Tales of a Wanderer

A collection of personal journal entries

[wiillderness-blog]

Sanctuary in Saigon [23/04/16]

I am sat at a marble table within a gazebo atop raised ground. Amongst the scooter swarms of Ho Chi Minh city is a great park which holds the Reunification Palace: I grand presidential building containing underground bunkers, helicopters and as with most buildings like this, a lot of tourists. 

I’ve concluded it’s not a bad thing that I have gone so long without writing. I feel adjusted to the wandering life of a backpacker and all the distractions out here keep me fascinated and lose track of recording my experiences. 

Yesterday I crossed over the Vietnamese border from Cambodia. For me, Cambodia didn’t produce much inspiration. I found it to be quite a sad place and lacking in a unique culture. Even the great temples of Angkor Wot, whilst truly beautiful to look at left me feeling disillusioned. It’s likely that the armadas of Chinese tourists left a slight shit stain on my time there. `of course I still enjoyed my experiences there but as I crossed the border i felt Vietnam would act as a fresh start.

[wiillderness-blog]

Thailand Backpacking: recap [07/04/16]

I think it is safe to say that it’s been too long since I have recorded any of my stories and in that time of absence a lot has happened. I think it will help if I work backwards...

So currently, I am writing from the hills of Northern Thailand safely tucked away in an elephant sanctuary. This three day trekking tour has been one of the best things I have ever done: reaching the peaks of Chaing Mai mountains during it’s annual burning season has felt like living in a hazy, dreamlike paradise. 

Everything from waterfalls, to strangely enchanting forest fires, to a group of complete strangers atop a mountain hut sharing stories and drinking stupid amounts of Chang. 

Before the tour, I spent a little while in central Chaing Mai just wandering around and after renting scooters, venturing 80km/ph down the main road and nearly dying a few times we made it to ‘the grand canyon’. An old quarry flooded with water for the purpose of allowing tourists to jump off the cliffs. No matter how unique or trivial my experience I am constantly left feeling fulfilled with my time spent in this happy and exciting land. 

 Of course, before this taste of exploration and culture came a shameful but truly unforgettable time spent in Phi Phi. Now whilst I could spend time writing about the drunken episodes me and my newly formed group of travellers experienced, I think I’ll keep it short and sweet. 

Essentially, Phi Phi consisted of buckets, roosters, snorkelling, infection, some of the most brutal hangovers of my life and most importantly some amazing people that I intend on remaining in contact with. One of the greatest things I have come to learn about travelling is the friends you meet along the way. 

[wiillderness-blog]

Hell (a monologue of a man on the brink) [25/03/16]

My body is no longer mine.

I have surrendered my comfort for a sense of adventure and what a waste of a sacrifice that feels like now.

I sit naked under the dim light of the shack, it’s 4am and I have hardly slept.

The insect bites are overwhelming , I am dehydrated despite drink more than the contents of a bath tub and I feel more weary than ever before.

Is this travelling?

Alone, disconnected, lost. 

I don’t really know whether I need to sleep or vomit, all I know is that I can’t sleep. 

The sounds of the insects and birds should be refreshing, but all they do is remind me how far away I am from home. 

I will escape this place early in the morning, maybe if I get to the beach for sunrise I will remember what brought me here. 

(This is my favourite entry to read back through because now I find it hilarious, at the time however I was in a pretty serious state)

[wiillderness-blog]

The ‘not so mellow’ Hostel (hut) [24/03/16]

On arrival to Railay Beach I was in desperate need for accommodation and with the only available options being beach resorts and hotels far out of my humble backpackers budget, I was getting desperate.

I had heard a few people mention a place called Cabana which was situated on the edge of town, nicely hidden away by the tall trees and towering limestone cliffs. The urgency for me finding a place to stay was closely linked to these cliffs, Krabi is one of the worlds most sought after climbing destinations and I felt I had something to prove.

As I walked down the long dusty road away from the main hotel district I came across a sprawling settlement of stilt houses with a perfectly matching sign that read ‘low budget accommodation’. It was at that point that I knew I was in the right place. 

I had been sat at what appeared to be a reception building for a few minutes when a woman and a small fat boy drove up to me on a scooter asking if I was looking for a room. Desperate to escape the brutal heat on my unadjusted skin, I followed the boy down the path through what in the daylight appeared quite a charming place: roosters clucking away, smiling faces, all is sweet.

After passing numerous poorly constructed wooden shacks we arrived at D7 and the boy showed me inside...

Now I don’t feel as if my description or photos can do this place justice. It was a room that you had to be in to understand the lack of appeal (bearing in mind I was fresh of the plane, not yet a seasoned traveller). Looking down at his happy, chubby face however, and still adopting the ‘backpacker mentality’ I took the keys for the night for the Thai equivalent to around £10 which is actually bloody expensive but apparently this was budget in Railay Beach.

So I am stood on the uneven floorboards of my new abode. A state of the art padlock clung on to a cardboard like door and upon entry the one light flickered on hesitantly. There was a bed, and curtains, and a fan. None of which looked like they could do their jobs successfully. All that was keeping me situated was thinking of what my Dad would say...

“it’s an experience!”

“You’ll have everything you need”

“You’ll learn from this!” 

Or even more inaccurately: “It’s great here!”

But I stayed and endured the bathroom without a toilet flusher or paper for that matter and although I am currently approaching my first nights sleep I don’t doubt that my Dad’s words will appear true in the morning.

[Read next entry:Hell]