The End

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"Home, home on the range - where the deer and the antelope graze"
So sang the bloke on the Simpsons. But there are no antelope, or deer - not here. Just London buses, delayed trains, bored faces, clean streets, pavements, tarmac, coats, traffic rules and April.

But first, to fill in the rest of Bangkok.

We went to a shopping mall called MBK and we asked a tuk-tuk to take us, me sighing at John accepting such a high offer to get us there. But soon after we left the tuk-tuk driver, aghast at the traffic, advised us to take the boat at a cost of 9000 Baht (18p). So we bunged him something for his 5 minutes of driving (he wanted 5 times as much, but we laughed off the suggestion and he conceded with a 'alright, you're not such mugs after all are you' nod and laugh) and got on the boat.

Have to say - it was fucking brilliant! Why don't they have something like this in London? Actually, they do don't they, but regulations and the size of the Thames means it can't be as quick, efficient, or delightfully dangerous. We sped along to our destination in 5 minutes - it would have taken 45 minutes in the Bangkok traffic.

When we got to MBK it was collossal, and had other things integrated into it. We spent an exhausting few hours trundling around - we found the cheaper-looking market stalls to buy some junk but Graham was looking for provisions for his trip to New Zealand - intending to cycle round the whole country. Fair enough, I thought, but everything you're getting here which must be lugged on the plane, you could get in NZ probably for the same price.

So as Graham pondered I wandered around part of this department store, realising that I was out of habit inspecting the goods (I could as well have been in Debenhams) as if they were the Angkor complex, my prejudiced brain assuming there was something special about these ordinary household items because they were being sold in Thailand. I pulled myself together, and commented on this to John, who (holding an egg whisk aloft with a face aghast) realised he was doing exactly the same thing.

It took a while for Graham to buy his stuff, but pretty soon we were on our way back to the Khao San road. When we got back I realised that I hadn't yet checked in to my flight, and as G and J went to a bike shop recommended by someone, I went to find an internet with printer. The first place I tried had no printer, after I'd logged in and been charged for nothing, the second place I went to totally overcharged me for printing my two boarding passes but in a rare flash of western (or should I say my) stressing - something I'd all but banished while travelling - I was frantically marching round Khao San and Rhambuttri, confused about which was which and feeling like I was in a dream where you're constantly running, can't find what you're looking for, and the past two nights without sleep were catching up with me. Knowing that I was expecting the same thing this night didn't fill me with high hopes of making it.

At last, boarding passes printed, I headed for the nearest bar with pool table, ordered a beer, had a smoke and felt a whole lot better, passing the time until John and Graham came back by playing pool with a Thai boy, apparently ADHD, his clicking lips and frantic pool action doing nothing for the quality of his game.

John got back soon after, and so we went to find some good cheaper food (the bar I was in was more western a priced place). We quickly found somewhere with cheap good food and beer and sat down for a very pleasant meal - we talked about travellers, charities, politics, hypocrisy, being a tourist, women, wine, carpet shine - I don't know what he was talking about but I think I've an idea. Top bloke is John, all in all - I'm only disappointed that we'd not met earlier and done some travelling together. Oh well, with this short meeting he didn't have enough time to realise what a knob I am, but you know better, eh, readers? 😉

Then, through a combination of will-power, vodka-red bull buckets and pool, and talking ineffectively to a Khmer girl who didn't have any English, we finally made it to 4.40am and - realising the bus for the airport left in twenty minutes - pegged it back to Graham's guest house, barging down the door like we were in the Bill to retrieve our cases and blundering out at a fatigued gallop into the gaggle of squawking tuk-tuk drivers asking where we wanted to go "tuk-tuk, tuk-tuk" they each said with the staccato of a hen. To each one I said "you take us to England?... 300 baht, yes?", before running on with the deranged psychotic cackle of a man who hadn't slept in 3 nights, tripping over the odd pavement, cat or discarded spring roll en route.

Bangkok airport. 600ish baht left. Big box of cigarettes for Vita, as promised. 500 baht, some food, kindly subsidised by John choked up the rest. I sat eating my squid noodle soup and rice in a confusing daze - my body had no idea what was going on - I was eating a dinner at 7am, but my insides and brain didn't think this inappropriate, because there was no such distinctions of time any more - it was just food.

I parted from John agreeing to let him know what time I landed in Heathrow (we were with different airlines but due in about the same time. If you read this John, it was 6.32pm touchdown). On to plane - sat down - suddenly feeling very sick. Passed out. I awoke two hours later, the meals had all been served and mine was sitting in front of me, all cold an uneaten - the air stewardess had thoughtfully put an unopened beer next to it. Feeling absolutely famished (even though I'd eaten a meal a couple of hours before) I wolfed down the congealed splodge and sucked thirstily at the beer. I've never felt so wide awake - everything was funny, even the Disney cartoon I watched about Rapunzel.

The next leg of the journey, changing at Abu Dhabi (god the Arabs make neat-looking airports!) was smooth enough, and I got on to be greeted by an elderly Indian woman, who wanted to swap seats with me so she wouldn't have to sit next to a man. I shrugged and complied. The guy who was now next to me was a little more high and mighty - a self-righteous (and probably offended) scouser. "You shouldn't have baccched down so easily mase - I would have stayed me grrround". Too tired to care, we didn't speak for the rest of the trip. I sat down, got a beer from the passing air hostess and, after drinking it and putting on "Fair Game", passed out once again - losing out on the still amazing phenomenon of aviation.

Got back to London. Tube delayed. Tube cancelled. No keys. Contacted Becka. Met her at Royal Festival Hall. Got keys. Went to Waterloo. All trains delayed. Got on one train. No driver. Cross platform to train 2. Suddenly everyone rushes back to train 1. Then guard directs everyone to train 2 - saying it will leave first. Everyone rushes back to train 2. I'm too tired to care, so I stick to train 1. Train 2 doors close first. Train 1 leaves train 2 at station. Both trains arrive at Vauxhall. Some from train 2 dash to train 1. Train 2 leaves first.

I finally think to myself: welcome to London.

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Now then, it's 2 nights later (about 8am now) and my body woke me up at 5am. I think the combination of no sleep for a while and jet lag will be interesting for a while to come. On both occasions I've woken into semi-consciousness in the night and thought, in a panic "where the hell am I? I don't remember checking into this guest house! I've no idea where the bathroom is - I've no idea what this room is!" In each case it's taken me a good 5 minutes to work it out - it's odd if you get used to an ever-changing sleeping venue - the regularity is in the irregularity, so when you get back to a place you've slept hundreds of nights in, the regularity becomes highly irregular. If you follow me...

So then, what have I leaned, if anything? Well, the trip was a success inasmuch as I wanted a change of scenery - I certainly got that. I wanted to see some more of the world and challenge my preconceptions of what normal life is and what expectations I have from people, society, governments and cultural lifestyle - I got that too. In a short time Cambodia came to be a place and people I both love and pity - no one deserves what happened to them under Pol Pot but, as a hideous thought it is, I find myself thinking "but these people deserve it the least!! What about the Australians? Or the British? They're much less nice!" Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam of course broke all preconceptions I had about them - communist Laos and Vietnam seemed a great deal freer than so-called Democractic Kamputcha. After decimating Laos and Vietnam in a bid to stop the spread of communism, all that America showed is that communism, although in many ways terrible, is not that bad - inasmuch as it's not as black and white as democracy = good, communism = bad. The communists took over in Vietnam and Laos. Vietnam is one of the quickest-growing economies in the world. You are free there to start a business, raise a family, import and export goods (I met Vietnamese people who did all of the above), you can practise religion, law, be a doctor and pretty much lead a normal life. So it's not completely politically free, but where in the world is? It's not ideal, but where is? And the people of Laos must be the friendliest people on earth. Becuase it's compulsory (not legally, but culturally) to practise being a monk if you're a man (women are already sophisticated emotionally not to need this training, is my opinion), and spend a great deal of time meditating and learning Buddhist principles, there's a slow pace of life and very little confrontation, even in the capital. But these are only 3 countries in a big world, and I spent only a couple of weeks in each - I can't pretend to know that much about them. But what I do know is that what I have found, I like. This will not be my last visit to Cambodia, and I hope not my last to Laos and Vietnam.

Did I "find myself"? Well, I certainly found something. When you're travelling, you meet people for such short time periods that you can only afford to be yourself - with no reputation to upkeep, no concern about how others perceive you, no worry about your place in a community, society or a social group (there are none when you're travelling alone), I think you're able to see yourself out of the old context, and in a blank context where you really must truly be yourself - if you are not, people will see through it instantaneously. So what did I learn about "me"? Well, much to my surprise and relief, I learned that I'm alright really - more or less. I made friends with people from all around the world, people of different cultures, and people without any language in common with me. I had marriage proposals, expressions of undying love, good conversation, good food and realised that whatever language you speak, whatever culture or politics you are brought up in, most people are basically OK, if not nice once you get underneath the first impressions and pretty much want the same thing as all of us - food, drink, friendships, relationships, laughter, joking, fun. Those without many material possessions replace this vacuum in their being with a focus on relationships, and though my western materialist brain has trouble grasping it, they seem much happier as a result. As dear old Bertrand Russell said: "The essentials of human happiness are simple, so simple that sophisticated people cannot bring themselves to admit what they really lack."

Now, pretty soon I'm going to fall back into the old ways - stressing over a late train, complaining about money, saying "this is ridiculous" about some petty thing that doesn't deserve such a strong adjective - such as arriving on a tube platform and realising I have to wait 4 minutes for the next one. But if I do, I hope I'll remember the people I met who - although we might consider them politically or socially and certainly materialistically inferior - have nevertheless worked out what is important. They can learn, and are learning, economic and... capitalist lessons from the west (Laos and Vietnam in particular - for better or for worse)... but maybe we could learn something about happiness from them....?

Nope? Thought not.

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