It was the books.
Children, at all cost, should be kept away from books.
My formative years were spent cutting out ‘plans’ from the likes of Conde Nast’s Traveller and imagining all sorts of mischief I could get up to in those far away unpronounceable lands. I whiled away time reading the likes of The Swiss Family Robinson and just hoping that with some sheer stroke of luck, I too could be marooned on a far off island – but of course with the ability to snap my finger and magic myself some home comforts, like hot cocoa, more books and a nice warm bath.
I have always lived a life looking out.
My surroundings, where my unconventional tastes and sensibilities made me both a target and pariah, definitely contributed to the need to escape.
There’s really no need to delve into the particulars of it all, because I’m still personally making sense of it all. What was at least certain was that I have always wanted to be free. But from what?
I wouldn’t dare call myself an escapist – But aren’t all deceivers, themselves, deceived?
There is truly is no denying that every single time I touch down on home soil, my emotions are abuzz.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s simply down to the fact that, “when faced with all that you have (technically) run away from, you have no choice but to accept that you’ve run away”.
I’m learning to love the new life I have made for myself in Bangkok and beyond. But…
Every so often my innate ‘good old fashioned English sensibilities’ pay me a visit, with a fine tooth comb, scrutinizing all my choices; nothing is spared, nothing is sacred.
It’s as brutal as it is derogating.
Meeting up with my old friends, recounting lost angst, dredging up old heartbreaks and recounting past feuds, has surprisingly filled me with a sense of longing.
The very things I once desperately tried to escape from, I actually want to return to. The cold sober (and rational) part of me is screaming Stockholm syndrome.
Whatever it is, it’s a steaming mess of emotions and it’s taken me close to a month, to articulate the wreckage…
I’ve been having fun! Tons of it, to be exact. But I have barely been able to blog, vlog or any of the social media gizmos that I now regularly speak life into.
I defy anyone to travel as much as I have and not have a wire (or two) looser than most.
The old cliche still stands, “traveling changes you”.
Wouldn’t you agree?
P.s All is not lost, for the most part, the wayfaring adventurer slash cook slash whatever is back! And I can’t wait to show you all the random things I’ve been up to… my regular twice a week blogging is just not possible with all the travelling I’m doing, but I will put in a video once a week.
Thanks for watching x