60, 70, 80... 90
The speedometer climbed as I pushed the throttle, the wind pressing hard against my face. And in that moment I felt it—was it freedom? Or was it just the reckless joy of unemployment?
The wooden shacks, rice fields, and endless green blurred past me as I weaved through the mountain roads.
Then it hit me—this is a lot for day two of learning how to ride a motorbike.