I keep sitting down to write about the events of my time here so far, but get caught up in all the depth of how the experience of being here so far. I’m not sure if this blog was ever supposed to turn into a substitute for my journal (which is collecting a bit of dust on the desk) or a substitute for a friend I can open up to… which isn’t something I do in London anyway, so there’s another point to Bangkok: it’s actually getting me to use this site I’ve been paying for for 10 years and writing again.

And writing is something that makes me really come alive. I’ve wondered if I should chase my dream and natural gift for writing, or what I think is an inherited dream of travelling in its place. Maybe the two aren’t as exclusive as I thought?

Okay, okay, before I dig another hole where my tangents lie and blog posts get caught up in, what’s been occurring?

It feels like a lot and not much at the same time.

Right, now the dust has settled somewhat after constantly landing, I feel a bit more like I’m arriving ‘home’ here. The sun is shining (I think that’ll be temporary) and I’m sat here in front of my laptop (I think that’ll be be for longer when the rain becomes less temporary) waiting for a delivery, so what better time to catch up on the last few days?

I might even have a few of those travel tips, now! Which would most likely be common sense for anyone else, but I’m clearly short on that, and I’m sure someone as gullible and overly open like myself (and I am mostly writing for myself) would appreciate. And it’s a nice change to be gullible and overly open, instead of cynical and closed off like I have been for a while.

God, I love Thai people. I really like Thailand, even when it’s pouring down heavily, with rain so hard I feel like it’s trying to knock me out. I really, really like Thailand when the sun’s out, and the streets invite me to get lost a bit (when I’m not lost in my head trying to get shopping done). And I’m pretty sure I love Thailand when it’s dry and warm like last night, and the air feels heavy with excitement, the lights bring every bit of the city to life, and there’s an atmosphere of nostalgia, freedom and potential.

I know I love Thailand because of the people.

As someone who seems to exist purely in the past, it’s been a pretty interesting 3 days in Thailand. Not very eventful, but interesting in that I seem to be constantly shifting between 10 years ago and the present. I’m seeing and feeling very vividly how I did all those years ago and trying my best not to contrast and compare to how things are now, because it’s VERY different.

I guess there’s no need for me to wax on and off about my previous travels, because I plan to (finally) do that and fill in the blanks when I get back to London. I didn’t paint the picture of my time abroad then, but I’m going to do it, for sure.

But I don’t remember longer flights being so difficult… or such small things making me smile so much! The last time I boarded any planes was 2019, but those were more like flying taxis around Europe. I remember 10 years ago, being on an Air India flight and quaking in my barefoot shoes about what was going to happen to me when I landed. I can’t remember much of the flight, except for sleeping and panicking a lot.

This time, I was very happy to find a pillow, ear plugs and a blanket on the EVA flight (it’s nice to know little things can still spike my dopamine levels). And playing some Angry Birds (which I haven’t done in 14 years) on the seat screen impressed me probably more than it should have. And the food! A beef patty with potato gratin and pork and rice had me so happy! I don’t recall being this impressed or appreciative about such things back then.

Maybe I was too cool? Maybe my interest in Buddhism has changed me? Or maybe after being in isolation and survival mode for so long, I just can’t help but take on these small acts of hospitality as large acts of kindness that I lap up hungrily?

I’m here.
But it still doesn’t feel like it. It doesn’t feel right or real.
But I’m here.

At Heathrow Terminal 2, waiting to board a plane back to Bangkok. Back to almost a decade ago, to that place I landed at the start of my journey, and the last time I actually wrote in this blog. I remember those days preceding the flight and everything that came after very well, almost like it was yesterday. When I was such a different person.

I was more sociable, hopeful, optimistic and Bright-eyed. More invested in adventure and moving on from the darkness of the past and on to a brighter future.

Somewhere sunny, like Thailand.

And here I’m sat, 10 years later, feeling like a completely different person; not quite knowing what I’m doing here, or why I’m flying out. Clinging  to the safety and familiarity of the mental prison and poisons I have become so intoxicated with.

But one thing I remember feeling, thinking and writing in my blog way back then:

“I am fucking terrified.”

Looks like I’m not so different after all.

I’ve arrived in Bankok in one piece, but my plans (and I use the word ‘plan’ very lightly here) are kind of falling to pieces. Nothing overly drastic, but give it 10 minutes and I’m sure that’ll change – like the weather here – and I’ll screw something up! I’ve already exceeded my expectations on that front.

Clearly I’m not going to be writing expert guides and tips on what to do here like every other travel blog on the net, and since I’m my only audience I might as well write for me and give a few tips:

1: Prepare for getting abroad

As in don’t just book a load of things with your eyes closed and then jump on a plane within a few weeks. I’d suggest getting everything done at least 2 months before, because that way you can spread the nervous feeling out over quite a long time and you’ll soon realise how crap England is instead of not wanting to leave and latching on as if it’s you mother’s leg and she’s forcing you to to school for the first time in your life and abandoning you to this classroom full of weird strangers.

I am fucking terrified.

That’s the last thing I thought I’d hear myself saying or see myself typing the day before I set off to do this whole ‘travel’ thing I’ve been wunderlusting after for the last 3-4 years.

I’ve been clamouring to get off this rock we call England and away from the sky that forgot it should be blue for so long now… and tomorrow I’m off to Bangkok… and I’m fucking terrified.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared to take a big step in my life; that first day at university was a bit scary, but I was excited about it for the most part. Heading off to India? No problemo, especially because I was going with 15 friends and then breaking away from the group to travel solo was pretty easy, too. Flying off to America on my own was a little piece of cake. But this trip, this time really takes the cake.

I’ve been planning this so long, preparing for so long and now I’m here I feel like my toes are about ready to fall off because I’ve never had cold feet like this before.

I’m sitting in my AirBnB room, alone for the first time in a long time as I’ve spent the last month or so staying with my uncle, aunt and cousins who I hadn’t really seen for years. I’ve never really been all that close to family and preferred my own company, but circumstances led to me having to take up home in that full house, where I got very little done and decided an AirBnB the night before I left would be the best course for finising thins up and getting used to being alone.

It’s going to take more than a little getting used to by the looks of it.

It’s yet another grey, dark and wet day in London. I’m always angry at the weather, looking up at the sky with a frown and cursing the clouds, a hood over my head and two scarves tugging at my neck… but my mind quickly turns to sunshine, and in the Thai embassy I just came out of, it’s not too difficult because I’m sweating. Too many people are piled into here and I’m stripping myself of layers. I look around and see and old man on crutches, some younger girls with plenty of makeup on, a mother next to me with an adorable, new-born and blue eyed baby challenging me to a staring contest that I know I’ll win. There’s no room to move; just enough air to breathe but I can feel the excitement already. I feel like I’m on my way, I feel like we’re all starting our adventure here.

I give over my receipt at counter three to one of the unhappy looking girls working here, who flips through a few passports and I see my face. She picks it up and hands me back my new passport, with my new name in it, and inside is my new visa which is the first thing to take up anything on a page in there. The first of many, I hope, and the sign of a new beginning. I guess it’s only appropriate that I follow suit and (finally) make my first post here, pen a little digital ink on the first page of my digital book.