When I joined a new organisation a few years ago, one of my primary responsibilities was to reconnect with customers across my territory. Like many of my business trips, this journey began with a simple objective—to visit customers in Thailand.
I flew from Delhi to Bangkok and then drove onwards to Rayong, one of Thailand’s most important industrial regions. Over the next few days, I met customers across Rayong, Chon Buri, Bangkok, and Hua Hin, spending my days in meetings and my evenings exploring a country that had become surprisingly familiar to me over the years.
For most travellers, Thailand means Bangkok, Phuket, Pattaya, or Krabi.
For me, it has always been Rayong and Hua Hin.
They are not destinations that appear frequently on Instagram or travel vlogs. They are quieter, slower, and often overlooked. Yet I have always found a sense of peace there. Perhaps it is the coastline, perhaps it is the absence of crowds, or perhaps it is simply because some places feel comfortable without needing a reason.
During that trip, I stayed at the Novotel in Rayong, a property I had grown particularly fond of. It was close to my customers, comfortable after long working days, and most importantly, only a short walk from the sea. Many evenings were spent sitting by the coast, watching the waves and reflecting on life while the industrial city quietly carried on around me.
At that point, the trip was supposed to be straightforward.
Five days.
Thailand and back.
Nothing unusual.
Then my phone rang.
It was my boss calling from Germany.
What began as a routine customer visit suddenly changed course. He wanted me to attend a meeting in Frankfurt and then continue onwards to Barcelona to meet the factory team.
Within a few minutes, a simple five-day business trip had transformed into a journey across four countries and two continents.
And just like that, Delhi—my home for more than two decades—was no longer the destination.
It became a transit point on the way to Europe.
Flying from Thailand to Germany (Via India)
That single phone call changed the entire trip.
What had originally been planned as a short customer visit to Thailand suddenly expanded into a journey across two continents. Instead of returning home after a few days, I now had to figure out how to get from Thailand to Germany, attend our annual meetings, and then continue onwards to Spain.
The first step was simple enough.
Fly back to Delhi, repack, and prepare for Europe.
Over the years, Frankfurt had become one of the most familiar airports in my life. In fact, I sometimes joke that I have landed at Frankfurt Airport (FRA) more often than many airports in India. Since 2016, when I joined Osborn, Frankfurt became my gateway to Europe. The company’s headquarters were located in Frankenberg, and almost every European visit started with a landing at FRA.
Some years I visited once.
Other years, two or three times.
Eventually, the airport became less of a destination and more of a familiar transit point.
Our Global Director, lived in Frankenberg and managed much of the international team from there. Every year, colleagues from different countries, along with senior management and board members, would gather for annual meetings, strategy discussions, and planning sessions. This year was no different.
After completing my work in Thailand, I flew from Bangkok to Delhi and landed late in the evening. I reached home around 10 PM, unpacked my bags, removed the light clothes I had carried for Thailand, and began preparing for Europe.
Out came the jackets, sweaters, jeans, formal shirts, and everything else needed for a European winter.
February in Germany is never forgiving.
After a few hours of sleep, I woke up before sunrise, booked an Uber, and headed back to Delhi Airport. Less than twelve hours earlier, I had arrived home from Thailand. Now I was already leaving again.
Such was life during those years.
Germany & Then Spain
The annual meetings began at 8 AM sharp every morning.
Like most corporate gatherings, the agenda was fairly predictable—territory reviews, business discussions, sales presentations, challenges, opportunities, and plans for the future. We spent hours exchanging ideas, sharing experiences from different regions, and discussing how to move the business forward.
By around 4 or 5 PM, the formal sessions would conclude.
The evenings, however, were often far more enjoyable.
Good dinners, detailed discussions, lively conversations, and of course, German beers.
For the next three days, this became our routine.
Meeting rooms during the day.
Restaurants and conversations in the evening.
Eventually, the meetings came to an end, and it was time for the next chapter of the journey.
Barcelona.
For me, Barcelona has always felt different from the rest of Europe. Germany is structured, disciplined, and precise. Barcelona, on the other hand, feels vibrant, artistic, and full of life.
I boarded a Lufthansa flight from Frankfurt along with a colleague and landed in Barcelona on a Friday afternoon. Spending the weekend in Barcelona before returning to Germany was always part of the plan.
But Barcelona was special for another reason.
An old friend was waiting there.
I had known Frederic for almost a decade.
Over the years, we had travelled extensively together across India and Europe. What started as a professional relationship gradually became something much deeper.
He became a mentor.
A guide.
An elder brother.
Someone who always seemed to know how to handle difficult situations, whether they involved business, personal challenges, or simply the chaos that life occasionally throws at us.
Meeting a person who lives thousands of kilometres away but still makes you feel at home is a rare gift.
Frederic was one of those people.
We spent hours catching up over dinner, discussing work, life, family, and everything in between. Despite the distance and passing years, the friendship remained exactly the same.
Another person who made the trip memorable was Joan, the head of our European unit.
Throughout my stay in Barcelona, he treated me less like a colleague and more like a family member. I had lunch with him and his daughter, met his wife, explored parts of the city with him, and experienced Barcelona through the eyes of someone who truly loved the place.
One of the highlights was watching a Barcelona FC match together.
The atmosphere inside the stadium was incredible. Thousands of people united by their passion for football created an energy that was impossible not to appreciate.
Beyond football, I spent time wandering through the city—walking along the waterfront, exploring the old streets, enjoying cafés, and simply absorbing the spirit of Barcelona.
Yet, despite all its famous attractions, my strongest memories are not of buildings or monuments.
They are of people.
People who welcomed me, guided me, and made a foreign city feel like home.
After a few wonderful days, it was time to return to Germany.
Robert accompanied me during my stay and even dropped me at the airport. It may seem like a small gesture, but those are the moments that stay with you when travelling far from home.
Back in Germany, I met my boss once again.
We spent an evening walking through the beautiful streets of Marburg, enjoying German pizza and talking about business, life, future plans, and everything in between. The conversation felt less like a discussion between a manager and an employee and more like two friends sharing perspectives over dinner.
The following morning, we met one last time for breakfast before saying goodbye.
I then boarded a train to Frankfurt Airport and began the long journey back to Delhi.
Thoughts About the Journey
Looking back, there was nothing particularly extraordinary about this trip.
There were no dramatic adventures.
No missed flights.
No unexpected disasters.
It was simply a journey filled with customer visits, annual meetings, factory discussions, hotel stays, and countless airport transfers.
Yet when I think about it today, I rarely remember the meetings.
I remember the people.
The mentors who guided me.
The friends who welcomed me.
The colleagues who treated me like family despite being thousands of miles away from home.
In my experience, those relationships are the true rewards of a career spent travelling.
Projects end.
Meetings are forgotten.
Presentations become outdated.
But the people who stand beside you through different phases of life remain.
And perhaps that is what we truly earn from all those flights, hotel stays, and passport stamps.
Everything else becomes secondary.
Writing this story allowed me to relive those memories once again—and reminded me how fortunate I have been to meet such remarkable people across different countries, cultures, and stages of life.