“One night in Bangkok” is a vintage song from the 80’s playing in my head right now.

The lyrics depict the exotic nature of the city and its colorful night scene, delivered by a rather pedestrian gentleman in a soft-rapping fashion.

It was a hit.

But none of this makes sense to me now. Asia is not exotic, I see no dragons flying around with smoke coming out of their nostrils, nor tigers screaming out of water faucets.

I was born in Asia. I’ve been living in Asia for over 40 years. Asia is always crowded and noisy.

Energetic? Yes, that’s a good way to put it. But I’m too old for this nonsense.

Instead, I travelled across the world to spend one night in Porto, Portugal.

What?

Yes. There was this university reunion. It all started with a WhatsApp group that put together all my friends from the good ol’ days. To give you a backdrop, I got my Architecture degree in Porto 25 years ago.

The discussion was concerning a party they were about to launch.

Oh, good for you

I’m living in China now, you guys have a good one.

Yet things gained momentum. Soon they were talking about over a thousand guys attending the party. A big party, so it seemed. Everybody was going to join.

I realized it would be a unique oportunity to see all those guys that I haven’t seen for over 25 years. All there, all at once.

On a casual day

Pouring an elegant Douro red wine down the throat late in the evening while enjoying goat cheese we brought from Serra da Estrela last September, I told my wife:

Fuck it, let’s go!

You coming with me?

Of course she did – she always does. So we embarked on this crazy journey: depart from Hong Kong Friday night, arrive in Portugal on Saturday, attend the party, then take the return flight on Sunday.

One night in Porto

And the rest is History – yes, with a capital H.

The party was massive. To the point it came on the news in TV.

A blast.

It was crowded – not crowded like Asia, but crowded nonetheless.

It was the most pleasant experience.

It was all hugs and kisses whenever I saw someone.

Big hugs, enough to inflict pain on my collar bone and shoulder blade that were broken exactly a year ago.

Yet it felt good.

Seeing all my friends, all at once, after so many years.

In the university premises, where the party was held and where we spent 6 years together in the past, surviving the cruelty of crazy volumes of work assigned by the brightest of the brightest professors in Architecture.

(some or most of them were idiots, depending on who you ask, but that’s irrelevant now)

Just to get the Architecture degree.

It got emotional at times, I had to keep my tears in check. My wife kept telling me:

I’m happy to see you so happy.

Sunday

Hangover, you say? No, not really.

I was hyped up and excited, yes, but lucid enough not to drink like an animal – even while surrounded by the very same animals with whom I used to drink in shitloads.

I drank just enough to feel high and happy.

I travelled all the way for this. It would be stupid to drink to the point of not recollecting what happened the night before.

The walk

Woke up early and went for a walk with my wife. The hotel we were staying was nearby university and the place I used to live back then.

It felt like returning to a previous life.

I was replicating my past routines and had flashbacks of all the good memories that were hidden somewhere in the back of my brain.

From the times when my life was simple, I could afford to be carefree and irresponsible to some degree.

Just having a good time in a warm and welcoming city with good friends.

All these memories left untouched over the years, now springing back to life.

Trust me, it was the most memorable experience.

Signing out

With a cliché, yes.

We only live once so try your best to have a good one.

Was it worth the trip, the nonsense of spending as many hours in the plane as in solid ground, for a one night stand?

Fuck yeah.