#travellersdiarrea

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23/03/17 - BKK Arrival: Embracing New Experiences.

My previous holiday experiences have basically involved me clinging onto my partner’s leg, reluctant to leave her side if only for a short trip to the shop. I am a sociable person with very little desire to ever be alone and cursed with a starvation for attention, it really is a bit boring laughing at your own jokes when the punchline is created by yourself. 

‘You’ll be fine!’ they said. ‘You’ll make loads of friends!’ they said. The thing is, I don’t want to. Thank you. In the nicest way possible, I have decided to do this to take some time out after a bad year and repair the remnants of a self inflicted midlife crisis, on my own. I want to experience brand new things and finally, source some independence for myself. Well really, I am simply running away from the mess and chaos I have created. My desire to be alone does not have anything to do with the fact my idea of torture, everything evil, sorcery, hell a distasteful experience, is sat in a youth hostel with people drinking Chang, wearing hareem pants, sandals made from Cambodian tyres whilst repeating the same old stories about the golden triangle, the best pad thai in Asia or finding themselves at the full moon party. I really honestly would rather find 33 beetles, crunch them up in my mouth, spit it out, roll it into a ball, pull my eyeball out, put the beetle ball in my eye socket and then roll around in a farm littered with live grenades.

New Experience #1

So March 23rd comes and I set off for 3 months of travel alone. I am strong, I am brave and I am independent. I am of course, with my Mother who I have roped into taking a Thai holiday as ha, think I am flying alone? I do not think so. The stopover in Dubai brings sickness and anxiety through a hatred of flying and a vile lack of rest that battles with my body’s lifelong reluctance to nap or sleep in public places. I take a sleeping tablet and a glass of wine and within minutes of boarding I am passed out. I wake up and I feel groggy, I take a few minutes to work out where I actually am and look around. It is there I see it, the most beautiful and unique sight of my whole 29 years and ten months on this Earth. As I peer out of the window I see the majestic aeroplane wing, posed wonderfully upon the most admirable runway of my life. It is sat there so elegantly and so rightfully accomplished after a successful journey with no deaths or any need to replicate those ridiculous cartoons on the safety form that are smiling as they plummet to their deaths.

I did it. And for the first time in my life, I napped. And I have slept through a full flight and I have arrived at my destination with no nerve wracking in-flight panic or turbulence. No counting down hours that seem like decades or struggling with 16 trips to the toilet that involve climbing over weird and selfish bastards that have the power to simply fall sleep when they wish. Okay, I have missed out on free booze, food and a binge session of Friends, but it’s okay. Because I tell you what, cross it off the bucket list: ELLEN SLEPT ON A PLANE.

Orrrrrrr there was just a delay and we have been grounded on the runway in Dubai for 2.5 hours, we are yet to even take off and I have a whole 7 hour flight ahead of me and I am going to kill myself. And the 3 children sat behind me kicking my back. :-)

Anyway, 9 gin and tonics later, cod in rat juice tomato sauce, Monica and Chandler’s affair in London to Rachel getting off the plane, I finally arrive in Bangkok. I bid farewell to Mother who is off to the Islands and here I go. It is time. Time to finally do this. Time to be brave and embrace this crazy City alone. But first I must go and meet my friend of 9 years who I have roped into flying out to be with me for my first four days as, well, hello? Surely you can’t expect me to start this independent lady thing IMMEDIATELY. 

The excitement of friends reunited bring a two day binge of singha, sangsom, cheap cocktails, hotel room gin with 7-11 mixer and some, but VERY little food. At the time it is great, our stomachs ache from laughter and we are drunk the whole time. The third day however, things are not so great and a violent hangover is mixed a ghastly case of food poisoning. OOOh must have been that absolutely NOTHING I ate.

New Experience #2

I spend the morning either sat on the toilet, or bent over it. Either way, everything stinks. I try a 7-11 toastie as it is the mother of all cures, but I can barely keep water in or down, let alone ham made from pig arse hole. Four gruelling hours later, I feel alive and ready to rise from the pit. Charlotte however, would clearly like to punish me for every wrong doing in my life and instead of throwing me to the tigers or forcing me drink the putrid Bangkok river water, she does the worst thing possible and drags me to Siam Paragon Mall. 

A  MALL. 

I have spent a lot of time in Thailand but I am yet to visit a mall. No reason in particular except I would rather put my breasts on a barbeque. Still, as I said, my quest here is to step out of my comfort zone and embrace as many new experiences in my life as possible and surprisingly, the most unique experience of my entire existence is about to occur on the BTS train on the way to the shopping centre.

Still feeling a bit ropey, I board the train. It is rush hour and it is like a cattle market on on here and I start to think I have done something to really piss Charlotte off. I let out a sigh that is accompanied by an exhaled breath that hits the Thai lady in front of me dead on her face. It rebounds from her cheek and all I can smell is stomach bile and a dead homeless man’s balls. She fumbles around in her pockets and immediately fixes a mask normally used to be shielded from pollution onto her face. :-)

Anyway, we are nearly at our stop when I need to burp. I am hoping I am not going to vomit at the same time the burp fizzles down into my stomach and I am the owner of a little bit of gas. I think about this, the people around me and the level of damage an odour could omit. But, I clench my stomach and decide it is a small pump and is destined for minor repercussions that my physical need to release outweigh. Just a little pump. A little pumpy, that will come and go, silently with little offence to anybody. Just a little pump, that is the slow friend arriving late to my food poisoning party that will pop it’s head in, smile and leave, causing nobody any trouble. Because of course, it is just, a little, pump. 

I HAVE SHIT MYSELF.

I HAVE SHIT MYSELF ON A FUCKING TRAIN.

I AM ON A TRAIN.

AND I HAVE SHIT MYSELF.

I AM 30 YEARS OLD. I AM ON A TRAIN. AND I HAVE SHIT MYSELF.

I AM IN THAILAND. I HAVEN’T CLEANED ELEPHANTS, OR LIVED WITH A HILL TRIBE. I HAVEN’T DRANK SNAKE BLOOD, DONE A BUNGEE JUMP OR PETTED A TIGER.

BUT HERE I AM. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NEWEST AND MOST FOREIGN EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFE.

I AM ON A TRAIN. 

AND I HAVE SHIT MYSELF.

I HAVE SHIT MYSELF ON A TRAIN. 

So, there you have it. Remember all you globe trotters, wanderlusters and those nobs who call themselves ‘Global Citizens’. New experiences are infront of you all the time, so be ready relish them and always carry a camera and some toilet paper. 

(Unique experience #3 - burying my soiled knickers in a sanitary towel bin)