Countries

Traveling Lost

Opera, somewhere in Chinatown

This is a way overdue post mainly because I don’t know if I should even make certain things public and that the cat is on my laptop half the time which equals to no work day<3
Well given that I’ve edited, re-edited and stared at this post for more than 2 weeks now, I guess its time to publish it in all its angst without taking away too much of what I originally wrote.
The story/ ramble for this post is a little personal so skip to the images if that’s not your cup of tea.
The images in this post were made while I was lost in Bangkok(:

Opera musicians

Getting lost seem to be part of my job and life as that was how I spent most of my time in Bangkok, lost. While I was there, I somehow managed to get so lost that I would pick a direction, go ‘Hail Mary’ and started walking. Only to realize an hour later that I was either back to where I started or I had just walked in the opposite direction…

It does not help that the place where I stayed is located at the outskirts of Bangkok. In fact, it is not even known as Bangkok to the locals but ‘Fangthonburi‘.
Taking the taxi was a horror story as I had been warned many times by Emmy (the gorgeous Thai dancer I stayed with) that I should not utter a word of English in the taxi as the drivers might take me in circles before I get to my destination. Then again the drivers I met always thought I was Thai and were always in such a chatty mode! So for most part, I just smiled and act like I understood what they said -Which almost always did not work and I still have to speak to them in English>.> One of them even thought I was a lady boy…
To save money, I forced myself on the bus and tested my zero navigation skills. If you ever want to get lost in Bangkok, I suggest you hop on the first bus you see, fall asleep on it, Hail Mary and start walking…

Somewhere in Chinatown

Flower market 1

Flower Market 2

Flower Market 3

Somewhere in Chinatown

Somewhere in Chinatown

I guess most people think that it is kind of romantic to travel. After all, traveling is all about immersing yourself in self-indulgence, having fun and enjoying life no? I guess that is true to a certain extend but good lord, I’ve lost count of the number of my relatives who sat me down and tried to dissuade me from traveling.
Their freak-out-now level was at an all time high as I just came back from a month in Jogja and now I am going to travel again? Using scare tactics and horror stories like ‘I’ve seen things you will never imagine,’ almost everyone used the excuse that I am a ‘young girl’ and I should not be traveling alone blablabla.

Every time they did that, the retort I had in my head would be to say: Ok. I’ll go for a sex change if that ticks your clock.
After all, Jamie is a unisex name. I won’t even need a name change. How convenient. Besides that, Emmy is gay so I might even have a love story going on there as a guy.
Funny thing was that Emmy’s mum called and told him: ‘I don’t worry if a girl stays with you but I am VERY concern if a guy stays with you’
I love his mum and I have not even met her<3

But seriously speaking, the last thing I need is another relative talking about how terrible the people in this world are and the horrors of black magic.

Some say I love freedom but to me it’s not really freedom on a whole but just to move and not stay stagnant in one place.
So what if you go to Malaysia for three days? That’s not travelling. It’s just a holiday.
For me travelling is like a book. If you don’t travel, you are never past page one. Your life is just sad…
To travel is to ‘move’ and ‘see’. Screw your comfort zone and open your eyes. Which is why those people who told me that they would rather die than to stay in the village in Indonesia with me would never understand what it feels like to travel. Sure they can sit in their little cubicles and slog their life out for that week long trip to Europe but they will never travel.

Silom?

Chong Non-Si

Chong Non-Si

The thing about building a memory palace is that you never forget and associations trigger floods of memories. April is a month with a load of associations that I absolutely abhor, mainly because it’s the month where I have the worst memories. Every year, I’ll dread its coming and when April hits, I’ll normally sink into some sort of depression. As for this year, what better way to start the month then to find out that I might actually have bone cancer. It’s stupid because it’s just a ‘might have’ but this thought was weighing on my mind like a plague and eating at me since I had lost friends to cancer. Coupled with the fact that its April, I was in pieces and did not exactly have anyone to rant it out to.

The stupid thing was although I survived dragging myself to the almighty white coats to get a diagnosis, the brilliant first world healthcare system in Singapore dictates that I have to wait until July to see a specialist while I continue to be in constant pain and get high on pain killers.

Hua Lampong

Then again thanks to this lovely piece of news, I am writing this post in Hanoi.
I just came back from Ha Long Bay and although I am not a huge fan of rocks and caves, my lord am I glad to be alive to see such a beautiful sight.

I’ve traveled for 5 weeks now and I’m leaving Hanoi for Singapore on Sunday with so many stories to tell!
20 years from now if I ever amputate my leg or something, I will look back at my memory palace and instead of saying I tried my best to travel, I will sit in my wheel chair and go: I did it -no regrets there.

Somewhere in Bangkok

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