Routine

I can admit now that after 3 1/2 months away I am ready to come home. I am blogged, camera, and passenger rail'd out.

I've taken in breathtaking natural wonders, explored great modern cities and the ruins from ancient ones. I've eaten exotic dishes while in the company of great new friends and travelled by plane, train, boat, bus, tuktuk, and bicycle rickshaw. However, when traveling becomes routine it's time to head home, because it's at that point that you stop giving proper justice to the world's treasures that you've been so privilaged to experience.

Elements of bad routine have been there all along, slowly clawing away at the excitement of our adventure. These include our daily dose of malaria vaccination, constantly being on high alert over the security of our valuables, and tallying the daily budget.

At first, I hardly gave a moment's thought to the impact of these routine activities - how could I? Everything we were doing was new and exciting - Giza Pyramids, Petra, Taj, Red Sea, Goa, Himilayans, Diwali festival, Varanasi, Bangkok, Koh Pha Gnang, Angkor temples and cruising the Mekong Delta!

These things, along with experiencing new cultures, made up the good routine, except I didn't once think of it as routine until now. We've been away long enough for travel to become what we do - my face is hairy, I've got a bandana, and my clothes are in taters - it's time to look forward to coming home.

Suddenly touring ruins is normal, and so is eating new foods, riding on trains, driving motorbikes on tropical islands, visiting museums and sitting on beaches... enjoying a tall beer to a beautiful sunset - yup, even this becomes routine. I don't want travel to be routine. It's to be out of the ordinary and exciting to be fully appreciated.

Recognizing the good as routine makes that bad routine all the more pronounced. The side effects of malaria pills suck; I can't wait to go a day without indigestion. Packing a bag and dragging it all over town and being on guard the whole way is a nuisance. Waiting for table service everytime I want a cup of tea is tediuous. I always cringed at the thought of long haul bus rides, but now I am dreading trains too - and I adore train travel (When I retire I'm going London to London by train in a circle through Asia... that's right Iran I'm giving you 30 odd years to cheer up). Second guessing whether I'm getting a fair price for even a toothbrush is irratating, and tallying the budget each day as our savings shrink is frightening.

It's been to long once you're smart enough to avoid being ripped off by touts, you crave Starbucks and Hollywood, and you start spending more money in order to avoid the discomforts of budget travel.

So, 4 months appears to be my limit and something I'll likely not have the chance to do again for a long time. When I get home I wanna roll up the rim with Timmy H, eat an orange chocolate chip muffin from the Market on Yates and catch up on the sleep I lost to four months of subpar accomodation. Then after a week or two I'll probably start daydreaming about packing my bag again... What do say Steph-O??

Feeling sorry for me? Well, don't. Google image search Railay, Thailand. That's how we're spending the last week of our time away!

-- Posted from my iPhone