Sunday 29th November 2009, 10pm, Koh Samui.
You'll have to forgive the mismatched dates and times of these posts. Inevitably whenever I want to write I am nowhere near a computer and so will have to type up these 'live feeds' when possible. As long as I remember to include the actual date and time of writing it hopefully shouldn't become too confusing.
Now, for example, I am sat on a bench in the foyer of Koh Samui airport waiting for my travelling companion to arrive. I much prefer to write things in my notebook as and when it's happening - it feels as though I am including you in my experience; carrying you around with me in my backpack and talking to you about it then and there. Much more favourable than a somewhat detached, ill-remembered retelling, I hope you agree.
The notebook in question is a travel journal bought for me by a friend and given to me on my birthday last year. Her inscription in the front cover reads, ''Happy 22nd Beautiful! Now there's no excuse... Love Always.' I am 23 years and 5 months old, and am very glad on this balmy, peaceful evening on Koh Samui to have finally put this notebook to the use for which it was lovingly intended.
Monday 30 November 2009
L.O.L.
Sunday 29th November 2009, 7pm, Bangkok.
I had 11 hours to kill on the flight to Bangkok, so decided to watch Sacha Baron Cohen's Bruno. I'd loved Borat but never got round to seeing the next one in the cinema. I have friends who won't watch a comedy at the cinema with me because I laugh too loudly and Í've always thought their embarassment misplaced and maybe unfair! However, I'm starting to think they may have a point.
Man that film was funny. I laughed like I was on my own, I flinched, I covered my face in my hands, I squealed, and I prayed that no one in the seats adjacent to mine was peering across at my screen during the numerous gay sex scenes or gratuitous close-up penis shots. Thankfully for my modesty though, most other passengers were fast asleep whilst I flew over Kabul, cackling at bondage incidents and Mexican furniture people.
Not everyone was asleep though. A male air steward on the night shift was quite visibly delighted by my own animated display - so much so that he spent the duration of the film and indeed the remainder of the flight after that sneaking me exclusive and delicious treats from the 1st class kitchen without any request or need for hinting from myself. So while I chewed away on Green & Black's dark chocolate and Parma ham salad and pineapple pudding, he told me that it was nice to see someone enjoy themself, and he liked that I'm 'not afraid to laugh out loud'.
Far more scary, I told him, to never find anything to laugh about, to be able to contain yourself - that is something to be really afraid of. Then he went away and brought me back some ice cream and a big mug of coffee - a kindred spirit I think.
I had 11 hours to kill on the flight to Bangkok, so decided to watch Sacha Baron Cohen's Bruno. I'd loved Borat but never got round to seeing the next one in the cinema. I have friends who won't watch a comedy at the cinema with me because I laugh too loudly and Í've always thought their embarassment misplaced and maybe unfair! However, I'm starting to think they may have a point.
Man that film was funny. I laughed like I was on my own, I flinched, I covered my face in my hands, I squealed, and I prayed that no one in the seats adjacent to mine was peering across at my screen during the numerous gay sex scenes or gratuitous close-up penis shots. Thankfully for my modesty though, most other passengers were fast asleep whilst I flew over Kabul, cackling at bondage incidents and Mexican furniture people.
Not everyone was asleep though. A male air steward on the night shift was quite visibly delighted by my own animated display - so much so that he spent the duration of the film and indeed the remainder of the flight after that sneaking me exclusive and delicious treats from the 1st class kitchen without any request or need for hinting from myself. So while I chewed away on Green & Black's dark chocolate and Parma ham salad and pineapple pudding, he told me that it was nice to see someone enjoy themself, and he liked that I'm 'not afraid to laugh out loud'.
Far more scary, I told him, to never find anything to laugh about, to be able to contain yourself - that is something to be really afraid of. Then he went away and brought me back some ice cream and a big mug of coffee - a kindred spirit I think.
Sunday 29 November 2009
Destiny and The Wizard of Oz
Sunday 29th November 2009, 2am, trans-atlantic.
On Saturday morning I went for coffee (medio, Americano, black, no sugar - it was all I could stomach but it made me shake) with a friend (primo, Hot Chocolate, whipped cream, sugar, chocolate croissant - made of stronger stomach and faster metabolism than me) and she asked me if i believe if anything is ever meant to be. If the things we had planned for ourselves today don't work out will the universe conspire with fate and re-align itself to offer us the same opportunity in a month, a year, a decade from now? Will everything that is meant to happen to us happen, despite our own decisions and diversions?
I would like to believe that I am being steered, that something or someone wiser than me is keeping me on a path, a Yellow Brick Road, placing my feet firmly one in front of the other as I blindly stumble forwards. Que sera sera, whatever will be will be, the future's not ours to see... so I'll just carry on moving and trust that I'm being pointed in the right direction.
Right now though, as I sit scribbling this in my notebook from my Economy seat on flight QF2 to Bangkok; I feel as though I have abandoned my luggage, skipped off the path, spat on the Keep Off The Grass sign and cheerily waved all manner of Scarecrows and Tin Men and Lions goodbye (which incidentally encapsulates quite succinctly all 3 categories of the majority of my previous dating partners - either no brain, no heart or no courage). I'm hoping that despite my drastic and unexpected change of course, everything that is meant to happen to me will happen, and maybe already is. Hell, if this is a misjudged foray off the the path then I know there will be people to pull me back, and possibly some stronger force than people to keep laying yellow bricks in front of my feet - in whichever direction I wander.
I told my friend that I didn't know. That I am a cynic, an amateur star gazer, a half-hearted philosopher, a failed Christian and a really appalling physicist - no authority on destiny. What I should have said is, have faith my darling, and hope that the pain you are currently feeling is only a precursor to the relief and the joy you will feel when you have walked far enough to get everything you deserve and want. Have faith that something or someone can see where you're walking, and knows better than you.
As for me, today: not quite at the Emerald City and definitely no longer in Kansas. Just rolling about getting drunk on poppy fumes (actually, inexhaustible supplies of Qantas' complimentary sparkling wine) wondering if I'm doing the right thing. Soon to discover I imagine, that for better or worse, there's no place like home.
On Saturday morning I went for coffee (medio, Americano, black, no sugar - it was all I could stomach but it made me shake) with a friend (primo, Hot Chocolate, whipped cream, sugar, chocolate croissant - made of stronger stomach and faster metabolism than me) and she asked me if i believe if anything is ever meant to be. If the things we had planned for ourselves today don't work out will the universe conspire with fate and re-align itself to offer us the same opportunity in a month, a year, a decade from now? Will everything that is meant to happen to us happen, despite our own decisions and diversions?
I would like to believe that I am being steered, that something or someone wiser than me is keeping me on a path, a Yellow Brick Road, placing my feet firmly one in front of the other as I blindly stumble forwards. Que sera sera, whatever will be will be, the future's not ours to see... so I'll just carry on moving and trust that I'm being pointed in the right direction.
Right now though, as I sit scribbling this in my notebook from my Economy seat on flight QF2 to Bangkok; I feel as though I have abandoned my luggage, skipped off the path, spat on the Keep Off The Grass sign and cheerily waved all manner of Scarecrows and Tin Men and Lions goodbye (which incidentally encapsulates quite succinctly all 3 categories of the majority of my previous dating partners - either no brain, no heart or no courage). I'm hoping that despite my drastic and unexpected change of course, everything that is meant to happen to me will happen, and maybe already is. Hell, if this is a misjudged foray off the the path then I know there will be people to pull me back, and possibly some stronger force than people to keep laying yellow bricks in front of my feet - in whichever direction I wander.
I told my friend that I didn't know. That I am a cynic, an amateur star gazer, a half-hearted philosopher, a failed Christian and a really appalling physicist - no authority on destiny. What I should have said is, have faith my darling, and hope that the pain you are currently feeling is only a precursor to the relief and the joy you will feel when you have walked far enough to get everything you deserve and want. Have faith that something or someone can see where you're walking, and knows better than you.
As for me, today: not quite at the Emerald City and definitely no longer in Kansas. Just rolling about getting drunk on poppy fumes (actually, inexhaustible supplies of Qantas' complimentary sparkling wine) wondering if I'm doing the right thing. Soon to discover I imagine, that for better or worse, there's no place like home.
Friday 27 November 2009
An Attempt at Explanation
Tomorrow evening I will be getting on a plane to Bangkok and I do not know when I will next touch down on English soil. I have a return ticket booked, for the 18th June next year, but I also have a Visa that means I do not need to leave Australia on this day or indeed for many days after that, if it doesn't suit me. I would say "I'll definitely be back, sure, I'll miss everyone too much to stay away longer". However, nothing seems that sure anymore.
Just 8 weeks ago I was employed in a job that I loved, devoting all my time to my friends and family, planning short-break holidays to the Maldives, viewing flats off Brick Lane and weekending with loved ones in Canterbury, attempting to resuscitate long dead romantic relationships and making a list of hobbies that I thought I should master in the next 12 months; just merrily going about the life that had grown and bloomed around me. Then I spent an inconspicuous inebriated Sunday afternoon in a favourite pub on the Globe Road with a friend who was soon to travel around Asia, and decided that I too felt like stepping out of the soil, right onto runway tarmac.
I partly blame his enthusiasm and restless anticipation about his own adventure for my sudden decision to 'up and leave'. But I know that's not really the reason I made such a spontaneous dash to the travel agent the next day. I have a passion for Gallivanting and a yearning for Goodness. I have mastered the art of enjoying myself - travel, parties, drinking, dancing, irresponsibility and occasional debauchery. I also know that there's more than this, and set off tomorrow to find it. So, you see my friends this is why I can only call this an attempt to explain. I hope it becomes clearer to me and you both while I travel and write and write about travel. At least it finally got me blogging. xxx
Just 8 weeks ago I was employed in a job that I loved, devoting all my time to my friends and family, planning short-break holidays to the Maldives, viewing flats off Brick Lane and weekending with loved ones in Canterbury, attempting to resuscitate long dead romantic relationships and making a list of hobbies that I thought I should master in the next 12 months; just merrily going about the life that had grown and bloomed around me. Then I spent an inconspicuous inebriated Sunday afternoon in a favourite pub on the Globe Road with a friend who was soon to travel around Asia, and decided that I too felt like stepping out of the soil, right onto runway tarmac.
I partly blame his enthusiasm and restless anticipation about his own adventure for my sudden decision to 'up and leave'. But I know that's not really the reason I made such a spontaneous dash to the travel agent the next day. I have a passion for Gallivanting and a yearning for Goodness. I have mastered the art of enjoying myself - travel, parties, drinking, dancing, irresponsibility and occasional debauchery. I also know that there's more than this, and set off tomorrow to find it. So, you see my friends this is why I can only call this an attempt to explain. I hope it becomes clearer to me and you both while I travel and write and write about travel. At least it finally got me blogging. xxx
'Goodness but not greatness. How can she go on living her life knowing what she knows, that women are excluded from greatness, and most of the bloody time they choose to be excluded? Going on their little tiny trips instead of striking out on voyages.... The voyage out, yes.'
Unless, Carol Shields.
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