by Lucy Vine
Sigh. What’s a woman with a pointlessly functioning uterus to do?
At least the flight itself should be fairly badass. I got an email this morning reminding me it was my last chance to upgrade, and I had a hangover, so I HAD TO DO IT. I basically had no choice?? And anyway, I’ve spent such an insane amount of money in LA, I figured I might as well spend even sodding more. This is likely going to be my final luxurious hurrah before things get a bit dirtier and hostel-ier, so I wanted one last chance to use a real fork on a plane. If I’m going to spend four weeks trekking around East Asia, I wanted to feel the cool tang of metal cutlery on my tongue one last time.
Weirdly specific last request I know, but there it is.
And having spent so much money to ensure my LA exit was fancy, I’m frankly a bit pissed off about having a breakdown in the airport toilet calculating the long-lasting effectiveness of toilet paper. It’s just not how I pictured this going.
Maybe the air stewards will be able to help me? I limp towards the BA lounge, steeling myself for a whispered conversation with an uncomfortable stranger.
‘Hi there!’ a BA employee greets me enthusiastically as I approach and I pull out my boarding pass. The woman waves me in, encouraging me to ‘have a nice day’. I feel tearful thinking about how long it will likely be until someone else wishes that for me and decide not to ruin the special moment by asking her for a blood plug. The tissues will have to make do for a bit longer.
Once inside, I am immediately overwhelmed, and immediately lost. It’s like a fancy bar in here, but without bartenders. There are rows of plush-looking seats lined up everywhere in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out on to the giant planes tootling along the runway. And there are buffet tables of food everywhere.
It’s thrilling, but I didn’t bone up on the rules. What do I do, where am I supposed to go? Is this free? It can’t be free. So where and how do I pay?
I stand frozen with indecision in a corner, fearfully clutching my carry-on luggage. Thousands and thousands (tens) of white men in suits stroll languidly by me, looking more at home than I do at literal home. One particularly sweaty businessman stops by the coffee machines, grabbing a fistful of those packaged biscuits I thought you could only get when you donate blood.
‘Would you like a hot towel?’ a voice makes me jump. It is another smiling BA automaton passing by, holding a basket and a pair of tongs.
‘How much?’ I ask suspiciously.
She looks confused. ‘It’s free, hun,’ she says, shaking her head and holding out a steaming white hand towel with the tongs. I slowly take it, watching her carefully, waiting for something else to happen.
What is her game?
She walks away quickly and I examine my free tiny towel.
What the fuck is the point of this? Does she know I’m on my period? If so, white seems like a bad decision. Am I meant to use it when I go to the bathroom? In which case, shouldn’t they hand them out in there?
A small kid sitting nearby pulls expertly at his own hot towel, dabbing his face and hands with the cloth.
Is that it? Is that the whole point of this thing? It’s so rich people can wipe off any vestigial evidence of the world outside this lounge? Wipe off the poorness? Wipe away any skin cells of other passengers who can’t afford to be here?
In which case I AM SO IN.
I give my available skin a good scrub, and sidle up to the biscuits, emptying the whole basket into my bag. Mine now. These will get me through my long flight.
What about the rest of the food?
I text Mark, he’ll know.
‘I’m in the BA departure lounge, it’s so intimidatingly fancy.’
He replies fast. ‘How are you not out of money yet?’
‘Money is just a social construct,’ I type. ‘Stop trying to overdraft-shame me, it is not relevant to this conversation. I need your help because I don’t know what’s happening. I’ve stolen all the biscuits and also a now-cold tiny towel, but what now? Can I eat anything I want? I’m hormonal and really need food.’
Mark laughs at me over WhatsApp. ‘Still a cliché, Alice.’
‘Please help me, I want the food but I’m afraid. You remember how traumatised I was by shoplifting from Woolworths.’
‘Yes, Alice the pauper,’ I can hear the amused sigh across the airways. ‘You can have anything you want. It’s all included. Joe says to say have a safe flight and he misses you.’
‘Amazing, thanks! Aw, tell Joe I love him more than I love you.’
‘He knows,’ he writes.
I am only half joking. I really do love Joe a lot. He’s just genuinely one of the nicest people ever. He’s one of those overly enthusiastic people you can’t help smiling around. You spend ten minutes in his company and leave feeling like you’ve taken speed. He’s a walking energy drink and I adore him. I’m so glad Joe’s gone with my brother to Australia; I know he will look after Mark, he always does. Even when we were kids, I remember Joe coming over to ours after school with a black eye and Mark whispering that Joe had stepped in front of a fist meant for him. That happened more and more as Mark got older and camper. Sometimes I get jealous of how close they are, but mostly I’m just happy to have Joe around.
I am about to put my phone away when another message from Mark pops up. ‘Are you about to get on the plane? I was hoping we could maybe have a chat on the phone? Do you have a few minutes?’
Shit. I know what this is. He wants to talk about Steven. He’s been trying a lot these last few weeks. He’ll try to persuade me to come to Oz.
‘Sorry dude, I’m going to stock up on supplies then I have to make a run for the gate,’ I lie, because I have hours yet.
‘OK, Alice. Have a nice flight, we can speak another time. Go eat everything. Except the hot towels, don’t eat any hot towels.’
I slip my phone in my pocket and regard the buffet. Triangle sandwiches, salad, pastas, crisps, cake, chocolate – all free. I feel like Princess Markle. Anything I want, I can take. And I want it all. It’s a lot but I can do this. I believe in me. I am going to be so loaded down with food for this flight. And if I still can’t find a tampon, I’ll just use sandwiches in my pants. It’ll be almost as good as a night-towel and probably more comfortable.
This is going to be the best flight ever.
Thailand
15
AWOL.COM/Alice Edwards’ Travel Blog: Living My Dream and Feeling Very #Blessed
21 May – 8.53 a.m.
Good evening, dream chasers,
I have landed in the wonderfully atmospheric Bangkok. I can feel the culture seeping into my pores, like some kind of Asian facial but all over. I will admit I am a little bit tired after my long flight, but this thrilling new place is already invigorating me. I must experience everything this world has to offer, there is no time for lying around! Luckily I am excellent at shaking off jet lag, so watch me go. I do not have long in this fair city so I must get straight out there and make the most of every second.
Until next time, my friends,
Alice xx
#JetLagSurvivor #NewPlace #Thailand #TravelBlogger #GoneAWOL #AliceEdwardsBlog #BloggerLife #Blessed #Brave #DreamChaser
3 Comments · 1 AWOLs · 25 Super Likes
COMMENTS:
Karen Gill
| There is no way you are not jet-lagged to buggery. You can be honest on here you know!
Hollie Baker
| Wow!!11 Your life just sounds soooooo wonderful.
Isabelle Moore
| Miss you already! Hope you enjoy Bangkok. Come back soon.
My mouth tastes like glue and my brain is also glue and the air is extra glue. I am deep into a jet lag state of mind. It’s a bit like an Empire State of Mind, but with less Jay Z. Staring at the ceiling of my Bangkok hotel room, from under the dark-blue sheets, I am obsessive
ly contemplating time. More specifically, the fact that I have caught up with UK time, and overtaken it. During the flight from LA, I have gone from being younger than people, to older than them. It is time travel. And time travel is not sitting well with me. My head is mush.
I’m spending my first few days here in a fairly spenny hotel – in Thai terms, at least. After the sleekness of LA, I thought it would be better to ease myself into hostel living with a bit of niceness. Plus, I’m a spoilt brat who some idiot gave credit cards to. I am considering making this whole thing a flashpacking experience, and then spending the next forty years paying it off. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?
Either way, I’m going to spend this week wandering around the capital city and immersing myself in this brand new culture. Which, if the airport was any indication, will be mostly people with neon signs shouting at me about Wi-Fi and international sim cards.
After Bangkok, I’m going to be travelling about a bit more. It’s a fairly stupid time to be in Thailand – just at the start of rainy season – but there it is. If only my life crisis could’ve come along around New Year. That would’ve been so much more convenient.
Either way, a beach is still a beach, even if I’m getting intermittently rained on. I picture myself standing in a bikini, back rolls bronzed and gleaming, the sand between my perfectly manicured toes, as the warm rain lightly grazes me. I am whoever played Leo’s love interest in The Beach. I’ve never seen that film, but obviously I’m going to check out Maya beach on the island of Ko Phi Phi Leh where it was filmed. That’s if it’s open. Authorities keep closing it down because tourists insist on ruining it. Which is so out of order! It’s not fair that I should be the only tourist not allowed to go along and ruin things.
That’s just one of many things on my list to do over here. After Bangkok, I’m going to head down to the lower Gulf islands of Ko Samui, Ko Pha-Ngan and Ko Tao. And even though there are warnings about storms around Phuket, I wouldn’t be a proper Westerner if I didn’t go there, right? Then I’m going to fly up to northern Thailand for my last week. I want to take a boat along the Mekong river to explore the Golden Triangle, where Thailand meets Laos and Myanmar. My Googling informed me it’s ‘one of the biggest tourist traps in the country, and is best known as the world’s most prolific opium producers back in the 1920s, until it was eclipsed by Afghanistan’. And honestly, they had me at tourist trap. Plus, the CIA came up with the name ‘Golden Triangle’, which is so totally badass, right? There’s also a restaurant up there called ‘Cabbages and Condoms’. So that whole thing is an Absolute Must in this soul-searching quest.
I really shouldn’t be in bed right now. It’s a terrible idea. I need to get up and survive the day. I have to try and right-way-up my head. But I’m so tired. But I also can’t sleep. But I have to.
There is a knock on the door and in a daze, I wonder if I have ordered room service. Or did I dream it? I definitely considered ordering food, so maybe I did? Before I can work it out, I am opening the door and, when I see who it is, I know for sure I am dreaming.
‘MARK?!’ I scream, my voice sounding raspy but real. He is laughing as he sweeps me up and we spin round in circles. I cannot stop shrieking, and someone yells, ‘Shut the hell up’ behind a door across the hall. I guess this hotel is not at the fancy levels I hoped.
‘Is it really you?’ I say pulling him in and shutting the door behind us. ‘Am I definitely awake? Is this happening?’
I cannot believe it. This is the strangest feeling. Someone you know so well, completely out of context. It’s like seeing a teacher down the pub. He laughs and hugs me close again.
‘It is me, Al, I’m really here. We got here yesterday, I wanted to surprise you.’
‘WELL IT FUCKING WELL WORKED, MARK,’ I scream again, so happy. ‘I can’t believe you’re really here. How long do I have you?’
He shrugs, grinning. ‘As long as you want me. I can stay here the whole four weeks if you like, or I can bugger off with Joe if you get sick of me.’
‘Joe’s here, too?’ I shriek. This is so wonderful. I can’t believe it, I really can’t.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I’ve been a bit worried about this part of my journey. America wasn’t that scary, y’know? Because I knew people in LA, and there was an element of familiar, shared culture. I grew up on US telly – we speak a common tongue, herbs/’erbs aside – and I had Isy if I really needed help. Thailand is so different, so loud, so foreign. I had no one to break in case of emergency. I didn’t want to admit how nervous I was about coming here.
But now Mark’s here and there will be someone to raise the alarm if I disappear without a trace. YAY.
We dance around the room some more, giggling our heads off, before we finally have a sit down on the end of the bed. ‘So talk to me,’ I say, still struggling to believe it. ‘I don’t understand. I thought you were in Australia?’
‘Well, I was,’ he says, side-eyeing me carefully before continuing. ‘But there’s not much I can do while Steven’s still out of it in hospital. He’s had another couple of minor strokes since the first major one, so they’re keeping him sedated. I’ve done nothing of use being over there these last few weeks, so Mum told me to get back to my life. I think she was getting sick of me.’ I look down and there is a silence before he continues. ‘But I didn’t want to go all the way back to the UK just yet. I want to be nearby in case . . . in case there is news. So I thought I’d come see you for a bit.’
‘So there’s . . . the doctors . . . they don’t think there’s much hope, then?’ I say slowly, looking away. Mark shakes his head. ‘But Alice, can we . . .’
I clear my throat, standing up to interrupt the forthcoming speech about hospitals and Mum and Steven.
‘What about your work?’ I ask quickly. ‘Don’t they need you back by now?’ Mark is a high-up badass in the City. They love him and he makes his company a butt-ton of money.
‘I’ve taken a sabbatical,’ he explains. ‘They said it was fine given . . . everything that is going on. They’re keeping my job open for a couple of months, but I can return sooner if I want to. I’m going to see how things go here and how Mum copes. She’s still got Hannah with her, of course, so I think she’s probably fine. Things are just a bit in limbo while he’s still in intensive care. If we just knew either way . . . I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ll do next. I might head back to England, or go back to Australia . . .’
I give him a small nod, as non-committal as possible.
‘You could always come with me,’ he drops casually as I stare out the window. ‘I would really like to . . .’
I sigh. ‘Mark, don’t start,’ I interrupt again. ‘I just got here, I’m so jet-lagged and I just want to enjoy the fact that you’re actually here. I still can’t believe it. Where are you staying? Are you coming down to the islands with me?’
Mark’s had my itinerary with a list of places I’m going all along – in case the police needed to look for my body, obviously. I guess that’s how he knew where I would be today. I still can’t believe he’s actually here right now, in my hotel.
He sighs, but leaves the Australia chat alone. I have a feeling he won’t let it be for very long though. I don’t know how many times I have to say that I’m not interested in seeing Mum or speaking to her. Not right now. I am not a cold person but I can’t just get over everything that happened between us.
‘Me and Joe are in a hostel round the corner,’ he says, smiling. ‘Can you believe how polluted this city is?’
‘Mark, that is racist,’ I say, outraged.
He snorts. ‘What are you talking about, Alice? Of course it’s not racist. It’s a fact.’
‘Oh, OK,’ I say, unsure. I suppose it does seem quite smoggy.
‘All I’m saying is,’ he says, still smiling, ‘I don’t think you should spend the whole week here. Bangkok is cool for a couple of day
s, but then you, me and Joe are heading down to the party islands for some full moon, full-tourist craziness. Let’s shake up Asia while we have time.’
I consider this. Maybe soul-searching can wait. ‘OK, I’m in.’
We high-five.
16
AWOL.COM/Alice Edwards’ Travel Blog: Living My Dream and Feeling Very #Blessed
24 May – 5.40 p.m.
Good evening, dream chasers,
After a few intriguing days in Bangkok, I am now heading to the infamous Phuket with two surprise visitors from home – my brother Mark and his BF, Joe.
Leaving the city so soon was sad, but my few days there were a truly transcendental experience. We immersed ourselves in the local life, taking scooter taxis from temple to restaurant to the stunning Grand Palace. We met many interesting people and I hope to stay in touch with every single one of them.
The three of us are now planning to fully embrace the joys of the famous islands and the locals, while also connecting with one another on a deep spiritual level.
Sending good thoughts,
Alice xx
1 Comments · 4 AWOLs · 19 Super Likes
COMMENTS:
Joe Downe
| Come out of the loo already, I’ve got shots ready and Ne-Yo on the stereo.
Right, I know that I said I wasn’t going to have any sex in Thailand while I focused on myself – but kissing is tewtally allowed, right? And maybe a bit of dry humping?
Because, too late.
Very too late, actually. I have kissed three men in the last hour and I’m thrilled about it. I got no names and ten minutes later, I could not identify them in a line-up. Except maybe in a tongue line-up. WINK. I am drunk, but nicely so, and basking in the feelings of being here and y’know being ALIVE. It is just so exhilarating. I am a million miles away from anything, feeling the sand beneath my feet and the atmosphere fizzing around me. My mind is nicely blank and empty. I really don’t know why everyone is so obsessed with mindfulness – mindlessness is much more satisfying.
