Thialand
It felt quite late when I landed in Thailand. I had been on a flight for two days, if you include the time travel. Bangkok was waking up for its evening shift when I left the airport. As we drove to the hotel, the sky was dark, the streets lined with vendors selling everything from the usual t-shirts to tourist souvenirs to household objects like batteries and pots and pans! The excitement was beyond real. The city was full of life. The dark sky was bright with lights on clubs, shops, skyscrapers and the sounds of people speaking in different languages from all around the world. I felt so alive, even though I was on the brink of exhaustion. I couldn’t believe I had made it. Thailand was on my bucket list for so long. I was ready for anything—but first, sleep. Even if I felt like a party pooper, I knew there was tomorrow.
With the short time I had in Bangkok, I was able to visit historic temples, pick up elephant pants, partake in the famous nightlife, and enjoy latenight mango sticky rice with a side of crickets. If you’ve never had a cricket, I highly encourage you to give it a try! It’s crunchy and may taste slightly better when under the influence, but it’s definitely a must every time I go to Asia. Tropical trees line the streets with delicious food vendors setting up restaurants and stands on the sidewalk; the rapid transit system operates above. I tried new foods, not knowing their names with ingredients I’d never seen before… Tuk-tuk rides when I walked too far, treating myself to massages (open 24/7!), and beautiful architecture everywhere.
From here, I went to Phuket for New Year's. It was wild. The beach was packed with tourists and locals coming together to celebrate the year we left behind and excitement for 2025. I prefer to ring in the new year in another country; always on the beach with fireworks, locals, and people from all over the world. This one was the best yet. The night was supposed to be spent at a moon party. Since the area was packed with people, no cars, tuk-tuks, or scooters could get through the streets. I could barely walk through the crowds. No luck with finding the meeting point for the moon party. The real party was here, in the streets and on the beach. The fireworks went off for what felt like 30 minutes, and while looking up at the sky, the coast was lit with people celebrating, like one big family. Down the beach, a concert was in session, the bars were packed, and food vendors were selling my favourites, Nutella crepes, mango sticky rice, and shawarma. My end-of-night snacks were decided, I’ll have one of each.
As I sat there looking up at the sky, staring at the moon—the same one I stared at through my bedroom window—I reflected on being in a country with a rich history dating back 20,000 years, walking where so many have passed before me. There was a point where I didn’t think I’d ever make it here, to Thailand, Asia, or anywhere.
New Year's Day, I hopped on a boat to visit the Phi Phi Islands. I video called my family to ring in the new year with them back home and spent the entire day island hopping, snorkelling, and exploring. Jumping into the ocean never gets old; I am always the first person in the water and the last to get out. The reefs were colourful and full of life. Sometimes you see bleached coral, and I cry in my snorkel mask because it makes me so sad that it’s dead and the inhabitants have all left, but not this time. Fish of all sizes swam around me. The ocean was buzzing with life. The ocean is a picturesque blue, the sun reflecting off it, twinkling like crystal, and islands of all shapes and sizes line the horizon. Right out of a movie. The 2000s movie The Beach with Leonardo DiCaprio was filmed on one of the islands I visited. From Phuket, I went North to Chiang Mai. Exploring temples, night markets, getting lost, taking a cooking class, and eating all the delicious food, like khao soi. The main reason I came to Chiang Mai was to visit an elephant sanctuary. In 2012, I spent the most majestic three days volunteering at Elephant Valley Project in Senmonorom, Cambodia. When I was diagnosed, these memories flashed before me. That feeling of being trapped and thinking I’d never see an elephant again destroyed me. Now, it was happening.
It was a three-ish hour drive away from the city and into the mountains, where the temperature dropped a little. I was on my way to spend the day with elephants. As soon as we arrived, I made my way to see them in all their glory! If you’ve never seen one, they are as big as you imagine, with soft eyes and skin like cracked leather with flyaway hairs sticking out like when your hair starts growing back post-chemo. We fed the elephants, played with them in the water, and walked alongside them as they grazed the forest. I was smiling the entire day, present in the moment I would cherish forever. I shed a few tears. Their eyes are a window into the soul, and elephants are emotionally intelligent like humans. Safe to say I wasn’t feeling trapped anymore and on the way back into town; I dreamt of my next elephant adventure.
The final week of my trip ended in Singapore, another place I never thought I’d be able to visit. Singapore is extremely hot, and this part of the trip was much slower with less bouncing around. I spent the week visiting hawker centers that are openair buildings full of food stalls selling a variety of foods and cultural dishes from China, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Philippines, India, and traditional Singaporean eats. Most stalls have been there for decades, selling famous cultural dishes. Aside from eating, I spent most of the time visiting different neighbourhoods, walking around with a dropped jaw at how beautifully the skyscrapers are designed and covered in tropical plants. If you are a fan of the movie Crazy Rich Asians, you’d know all the spots I visited, and they look even more beautiful in real life. The city buildings and overhangs are designed to keep you cool and provide shelter as it rains a lot, with the high humidity. I was in awe at how beautiful the city was. Not one building looks like the other, and it doesn’t even feel like you are in a big city with greenery all over the place, including the buildings.
Since being on this trip, the cancer side effects have all but disappeared. No more phantom itches, skin rashes, or stomach problems until I returned home. At the beginning of my diagnosis, it felt like I wouldn’t be able to travel like this again. The backpacking type of trips were over and I was limited to only travelling within Canada, no more two-to-fourweek trips. One of the things I grieved the most was not moving abroad when I was younger or travelling for months at a time, because now I couldn’t do that. I thought the threeweek visits for maintenance treatment post-chemo would be the ball and chain holding me back from the things that brought me joy and feeling alive. I want to see the world’s cultures and soak up the motherland of friends and family. I want to enjoy the foods I eat in Toronto in their original origin with local ingredients, learn the history, see natural wonders, different architecture, experience transit systems, enjoy public spaces, street art, see the different ways of life and social norms that change from place to place. I want to get lost and have an adventure.
During this trip, I realized how far I’ve come and reflected on all the things I have been able to achieve. Two months after chemo ended, I took my bald head to Mexico and proudly showed off my port and the few hairs I had. Later that year, I went to New Orleans and Jamaica. Safe to say I kept travelling. I jumped on a plane to Scotland two days after one round of gamma knife radiation to the brain in the fall. How wild is that? To me, it just seemed like the normal thing to do; nothing was going to come between me and my trips.
I realized how far I’ve grown and accepted my cancer diagnosis. As I write this, I’ve learned the cancer has spread to my lungs and my spine. The first thing I thought about was, well, I should book a trip in the fall. I need to enjoy life the way I want for as long as I can, and for those who can’t anymore. This trip set me back on track and reminded me I need to dream bigger and that I am living life the way I want. The only thing holding me back is myself, and sometimes diarrhea.🌿
Julia Girmenia
Nonprofit leader. Diagnosed at 33. Inflammatory breast cancer, Stage IV de novo, HER2+.
A proud Torontonian, Julia finds happiness in big and small adventures: wandering her city, discovering new eats, attending concerts, hopping on planes, getting lost, and soaking up time with family, friends, and her dog Choi. Julia is passionate about community, advocacy, and making space for real conversations about life with cancer—the messy, the beautiful, and everything in between.
“Thialand” will be published in Wildfire Journal’s upcoming 2025 “Living Well” issue. Order the full print copy in the shop; available in the subscribers’ library Saturday, Aug 23, 2025.