Home vs home Home

Home vs Home Home

Just before I return to the flooded valleys of England, I re-visit my Thai family, which makes me wonder about the differences between my two ‘homes’. Although I’ve stayed with and met other local families along the road, my Thai family tolerated me for the best part of a year, ensuring that I know them better than anyone else I’ve met on my travels.

The main difference between this home and home home (to the same people that use ‘out out’) is the fact that I chose my Thai home. More or less. Obviously I had no idea they would take me in – and the family would be so lovely, but I did get to choose the country, climate and general geography of the local area. Whereas my home home was somewhere that I always took for granted – it’s always been there and felt like it would always be the same.

After not visiting Thailand for a year, it felt like coming home as soon as I stepped out of the airport into the heavy and humid Bangkok night air. Which was incredibly welcome after the frigid dryness of the aeroplane cabin. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Bangkok, but just the smell of all that delicious street food mixed with the burning incense in the temples and shrines plus the fumes of the chaotic traffic is unique. Bangkok was the first city of my trip, so it was a fitting place to return to the UK from.

The familiar sounds of the Thai language welcomed me – along with the functioning Bangkok transport system! It’s a refreshing change after the mayhem of trying to get around Manila. Everything is noisy, dusty and crowded but somehow it all works.

One of the great things I noticed about being back in Bangkok is the security checkpoints at the entrance to each of the MRT/skytrain stations. After walking through a metal detector a guard casually motions you to drop your bag on the table and open it for a search. I have no complaint with the security – I think it’s great that they do it. But it used to annoy me no end when you’re carrying a heavy backpack with whatever other baggage and they only want to see inside the smallest top zip. What would I put in there? At least if you’re going to search my stuff, do it properly! Going through at least three of these checkpoints with an extremely full back pack plus wheelie suitcase and two ‘hand luggage’ bags I was hoping that the guards wouldn't want me to unload everything. Amazingly, all of them seemed content with a brief look inside my hand luggage bag. I know this doesn't sound very interesting, but actually it’s a huge relief when you’re travelling in rush hour in one of the busiest cities on the planet.

Meeting my family again was great. As expected, I had an unpredictable but fantastic time with them. As far as I can tell, it’s useless trying to have any input into activities whilst out with Asian friends. You’ll never know the full plan, so you might as well sit back and enjoy the ride! And so it was that myself and Harpa (Miss Iceland, from the boat) got taken to picnics by waterfalls, met the kids at school again (a spontaneous hug from 30 kids is probably one of the coolest things that’s ever happened to me), being taken to a factory for last minute super discount present shopping NOT TO MENTION all the delicious eats which were involved. We also had to go on an emergency airport run to take Kung to catch his first commercial flight. It was hilariously good fun.

After taking Harpa to the bus station the next day I accompanied Kru Goy to go and meet her mother, in a nearby field. We took a large, empty plastic bag with us. On reaching her, we found she had a basket full of molluscs which she’d spent hours digging from the mud in an empty shrimp pond. We tipped the basket into the bag – leaving her an empty basket to carry on with. After lugging the bag back to the motorbike, I went back into the field to catch up with Goy. She introduced me to her elderly auntie, who saw my hands full of the molluscs Goy had just given me. Motioning me to drop the snails, we squatted down in the muddy field under the baking sun while she read my palms.

Through Goy, I was able to understand various facts about myself – although I’d been born and raised in London, Auntie determined that I’d spend my life travelling and working in other places. It will be a long time before I get married, although right now I have two secret admirers (although disappointingly this didn’t equate to any surprises on Valentine’s Day). 
Hmm. 

I went back to Bangkok by coach the next day, of course for a last whisky/beer street party before my early morning flight to LONDON TOWN!!

Arriving back it was great to see some friendly faces at the airport – MASSIVE THANKS to Lauren and Megan for meeting me. I definitely would have been in trouble negotiating my way home with all that baggage AND a tube strike to work around! Seeing my family was slightly surreal, as my youngest brother appears to have grown two feet since the last time I saw him, but nobody looks too different other than that.

Something I was thinking about before my return – the smell of home. I remember being on Spanish exchange way back in school and realising that the Spanish kids smelt differently to us (not in a bad way, they just smelt like Spain). I wondered if I would smell different on my return (not that I’d be able to notice) or if anyone’s scent would be more noticeable as I’ve been smelling Asians for the last two years. Although this sounds like a crazy train of thought, it does makes sense. Whilst unpacking I realised that a scarf which had been given to me in Thailand now had a much stronger exotic scent which I hadn’t noticed whilst in Thailand! Also there are some smells that just don't equate in other countries. Like fresh rain in the UK is not the same as the smell as rain elsewhere. But then again, maybe I just got to smell more rain in the UK. :-P

Unfortunately my time at home has already flown by – meet ups in pubs with friends, a wonderfully relaxing spa day (shame my manicure was totally wasted on the slopes), dinner out, a day trip to Dover with a surprise visitor (Vtec I really appreciate you making the effort to come down to visit and I'm super glad you made me play tourist at home! Thanks) and lots of quality down time with family and friends.

I’m surprised at how expensive everything is here – I’d forgotten just how much things cost. Just travel is crazy: a one way ticket to Tunbridge Wells is OVER £10! That’s insane. In Thailand, you can basically travel on a sleeper train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai for that much (ok slightly more, but you get a bed and everything!).

So what else have I missed about being home?

Obviously, not the weather. It goes without saying that people – friends and family – are right at the top of the list. Unfortunately three weeks in Europe haven’t really been enough to catch up and spend enough time with everyone that I wanted to. And so I’m expecting to see a bunch of people in Asia/Australia in the next year, ok na?

Matilda came out with a great suggestion of things that will be nice about home – dogs. Dogs at home are (with one or two child-mauling exceptions) lovely here. In Muslim countries dogs are considered to be very dirty animals so they are not really kept. Everywhere else a dog is a functional animal – used for guarding the property and not considered a friendly pet. Whilst at anchorage in Coron, we met Skip and Tally, two lovely cruisers who charter their boat around the Philippines. Skip had an incident with one such dog – he bent down to stroke the dog which had appeared to be friendly. The dog changed its mind and jumped up and bit Skip on the face, losing one of his front teeth! Which just sums up my attitude to dogs in Asia; be very careful! 

It's also weird being home - in Asia I never had an accent but apparently here I do! Please feel free to laugh if you notice it. 

Something that’s slightly sad about the nature of travel – I was thinking to myself ‘I can’t wait to go home and see everyone’, but actually I don’t mean everyone. I mean everyone at home, yes. But so many of the amazing people and families I’ve met along my travels I’m not likely to see again. Thousands of miles will always separate us – we live on different corners of the globe or we’re both travelling in opposite directions. You make such quick friendships on the road – bonding instantly with the fellow traveller who’s also stranded in a remote paradise, waiting for that next boat which isn't coming. That’s what the magic of going home is. I know that even if the next time I go back is in five, ten or fifteen years’ time there will always be so many people I love that I can see again and again. Thanks for being there, people! 

Also incredibly grateful to my totally awesome parents for making it possible for me to see everyone (not to mention the beautiful skiing we've been enjoying for the last week!!)