I’ll admit its been a little while since I touched fingertips to keypad. But I’m not going to apologise. I mean, I’ve been in a strange place these last few weeks and anything I wrote just turned to shit. So, I guess I’d have been apologising to you then, had I had posted.
Right now, I’m back in my own bed, in my own (parents) house in London. It feels weird. It’s comfy and familiar, yes. But it’s weird. I can hear distant cars, not geckos ‘uhuh’-ing. I look out my window to see wood pigeons, not monkeys or bats. It’s cold. My brain is a little confused.
But hey, travellers run out of money inevitably right? It’s just my time. I’m not done yet.
I realise I sound very ungrateful. I’m not. It’s amazing to be home, to catch up with friends and family and to have a secure place to rest my head every single night, but I think I’ve come to realise what it is I miss the most so far since touching back to the UK.
And it’s this:
Isn’t that magical?
That was recorded on my phone in Laos. In Muang Noi to be exact. It’s one of the most remote places I’d seen and it housed an incredible mountain that was constantly asking to be climbed. So I climbed it. It took me 1 hour and 5 minutes. It was killer, it had rained over night so the ground was slippery. It wasn’t really a path, rather just mud and rock and tree with a rope to guide you.
Half way up, I’d stopped for air, drenched in sweat and starting to wonder why I’d put myself through this because there was no telling where the top was. As I stood there, I suddenly channeled in to what was actually around me. And that was the sound. The creatures, the life.
The leaves were damp with dew, spiders nestled in their webs. Ants scattered around. There was just so much life, everywhere. So I carried on. Up and up, until I got to the top. To this:
Nature has a funny way of kicking you back to life. Always listen, it’s worth it.