Some people find themselves by sitting still. Ren found himself by leaving.
Ren quit his office job in London, loaded up a rucksack, and bought a one-way ticket to Bangkok—a year long search across Southeast Asia for Life, Love, and Meaning.
He wanted heat, risk, crystalline beaches in paradise, and a backpacker nightlife under flickering neons. He got all that—plus hustlers, mercenaries, and a Brotherhood with goat head stew.
The search took longer. And took him further.
Set in the 80s and 90s, when Burma denied visas to journalists, Beijing had one budget hotel, the USSR still existed, and the best currency was Johnny Walker Red, this journey is less Four Seasons, more Four Cockroaches in a Dorm, a coming-of-age celebration of wanderlust for anyone who’s ever suspected that certainty is overrated; and that the only way to find out where you belong is to throw away the map.
Editorial Note:
Based upon the Ren’s UK origins, British spellings and idioms are consistently used throughout this work.
When choosing Rubies and Rucksacks for the title of the book, someone warned me that ‘rucksacks’ is not American word. I checked, and Google replied, “Did you mean backpacks?”
So, I tested the title on a friend, and she thought I said ‘Rubies and Rough Sex’.
I assured her that there was only a little bit of rough sex in it.