I am Always ME

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As I re read my blog entries I am struck with the realization that I have provided you with few cultural facts and few descriptions as to what things looked like. While my friend Sandra wrote a very detailed journal with dates, names, locations, I wrote nothing more than what I was feeling on that date and how the locations and people made me feel.

So, if as you read this you would like more concrete information I would be happy to raid the journal of Sandra. If you prefer the emotional journey read on...and if you are my father you would have expected exactly this.

The next three day in Koh Samui were low days for me.

When we got there we hoped in the back of the cab and told the driver the guest house we wanted to go to. Instead we were promptly dropped off in the middle of chewang beach and told “walk that way”.

Walk that way we did....for hours.

We could not find a single room within our budget.

Alright I will tell the story properly.

The first place we went had a bungalow with one big bed in it. I deemed it too depressing and asked to keep looking. This is were the walking began. Eventually we had to take out bags off and leave Sandra with them as Jenn and I went in search of accommodations.

Somewhere along the hunt I lost Jenn and ended up retracing my steps for about 5 blocks only to realize she was not there and had to go back. Eventually I found her sitting back at the original bungalow we had started at.

And so we booked the “depressing room” and for me it was.

I don’t have much good to say about this island. There seemed to be nothing to do but walk down over crowded streets and shop (which with no money I could not do) or sit on the beach while people tried to sell you things.

Sandra loved this island.

I will admit that I did not give it a chance and that we didn’t do anything in an effort to explore it.

I would say the highlight of this time was what I later found out a 95 dollar phone call home that confirmed to me that there was a world out there and that this bungalow would not be my life forever.

Parts of this trip have made me wonder how I can ever go back to real life while other parts make me want to pack up and go home right away.

It turns out that once you are home you don’t talk about the hard parts of travelling. You forget about the anxiety and depression you may have experienced. As you look at the pictures you think ‘wow that was the best day of my life” regardless of the reality.

I am happy that in retrospect this trip was fabulous but I am grateful that I kept a journal to remind me of the reality of life. Although I may be in paradise I am still me and after travelling across the world I am beginning to realize that the grass is not greener on the other side and that everyone regardless of

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