She sits in the cafe
7901 kilometers from home
Clutching her lifeline in her hand
Her iPhone.
She came to escape, to see new things,
All she is really seeing is reality.
The thoughts flood her head
And tears steam down her face
Lucky there is time to think and cry
In this public foreign place.
Train stations, plane stations, taxis and trams
Have all seen her tears.
Public squares, cafes the same.
From Stockholm to Stanstead airport,
Federation square to Hoi An roasters,
She opens the emotional baggage but does not check it in.
It does not fit in the overhead locker,
So she has to unpack it there and then,
Sort out what is really needed and throwing away what is not
Or leaving it in a pile
And cause a security threat at Stanstead airport.
Always one to find a silver lining,
At least the beer is cheap.
At least she's got a sweet place to sleep.
Distractions abound in a foreign town
People to watch and streets to get lost down
This time she will not cry when she gets lost
Like the time she did in Kmart when she was four.
She stretches and creates space
Because there is time to think and grow
In this public foreign place.
Jj
Monday, 24 April 2017
Thursday, 20 April 2017
Yoga, Bingtang and Bali Belly
I am one week into my 8 week adventure.
This first leg has bought me to Seminyak, Bali, to join with my family in celebrating the marriage of my big brother to a wonderful woman.
The wedding was epic and requires a whole different post.
So many moments of this week have involved laughing, drinking, not much tanning and a lot of cuddling with the babies.
Not to mention massages, manicures, haggling and all the things one can find in this corner of the world.
I am staying in a hotel with 5 of my aunties, 2 uncles, my parents, sister, brother in law and their baby. Across the road is a stunning yoga studio in a loft, where the sexy tanned South American instructor has wanted me to do things wrong in purpose in the hope for some correction...(but not as wrong as falling out of a headstand with a crash like the dude with the CARPE DIEM tattoo across his back and backwards hat did.)
When the beer is cheaper than coconuts; literally, it sets the president for a certain type of holiday.....but thanks to my delightful timely attack of Bali belly the morning after the wedding (NOT a hangover I'm sure) the drinking has backed off in favour of a bike ride down a volcano through rice fields with all the rellies ( party of 9) and 2 Australian girls.
The bike trip was awesome, amazing views, great guide and some real back-streets action.
I also drank the infamous "Kopi Luwak" which is coffee that includes part-digested coffee cherries eaten and defecated by the Asian palm civet (Paradoxurus hermaphroditus)
It packed a punch, had a very dirt like taste, my Aunty thought "It tasted like shit" which is pretty correct considering.
Needless to say, it didn't do many good things for my unsettled stomach and the wheel of the minivan weren't the only thing to do a motion upon leaving that day.
In the avoidance of being "just another travel blogger" collecting anklets, tattoos, hearts and diseases along the next months, I am offering a disjointed take on it all-
There will be no
"Day 1: Singapore, stayed at the Hyatt, stole a robe, ate Western food by the pool all day."
Nor will there be
"Day 17: Mumbai, I really find that I am becoming one with this culture and getting to know myself better as I was sprinkled with dirty water on the street AT THE SAME TIME as there was a bell ringing in the distance and it represents me letting go of all my chattels so I'm going to shave the side of my head."
I got asked if I was a journalist or blogger the other day when I was eating a felafel wrap and scribbling notes at Shelter Seminyak cafe. I haven't bought a journal yet and was just reporting the last few hours, but was nice to start conversation all the same. Perhaps that is an 'in' to meeting people over this journey. Perhaps I could make it more obvious and bring a typewriter, ask for copies of the menu, 'poopoo' food and staring off into the distance to conjure a sentence like a teenager sneaking in late at night tries to conjure an excuse as to where they have been.
I digress.
It's going to be tricky to get into the swing of regular updates, as this hotel has computers but I'm not sure if our ones in Cambodia, Vietnam and India will. So, I shall try with little and often.
Or lots and seldom. It depends. I can't really think straight right now as I think my legs are being bitten by mosquito and i can't hit them as they are sore from VINYASA LEVEL 2 and also the huge graze I got on my shin from jumping in the pool fully clothed at the wedding.
More on that later.
Send comments and feedback PLEASE so that I feel some kind of obligation to write these. Also; sorry there are no pictures, I haven't found the proper app to load then from! .
Jj
This first leg has bought me to Seminyak, Bali, to join with my family in celebrating the marriage of my big brother to a wonderful woman.
The wedding was epic and requires a whole different post.
So many moments of this week have involved laughing, drinking, not much tanning and a lot of cuddling with the babies.
Not to mention massages, manicures, haggling and all the things one can find in this corner of the world.
I am staying in a hotel with 5 of my aunties, 2 uncles, my parents, sister, brother in law and their baby. Across the road is a stunning yoga studio in a loft, where the sexy tanned South American instructor has wanted me to do things wrong in purpose in the hope for some correction...(but not as wrong as falling out of a headstand with a crash like the dude with the CARPE DIEM tattoo across his back and backwards hat did.)
When the beer is cheaper than coconuts; literally, it sets the president for a certain type of holiday.....but thanks to my delightful timely attack of Bali belly the morning after the wedding (NOT a hangover I'm sure) the drinking has backed off in favour of a bike ride down a volcano through rice fields with all the rellies ( party of 9) and 2 Australian girls.
The bike trip was awesome, amazing views, great guide and some real back-streets action.
I also drank the infamous "Kopi Luwak" which is coffee that includes part-digested coffee cherries eaten and defecated by the Asian palm civet (Paradoxurus hermaphroditus)
It packed a punch, had a very dirt like taste, my Aunty thought "It tasted like shit" which is pretty correct considering.
Needless to say, it didn't do many good things for my unsettled stomach and the wheel of the minivan weren't the only thing to do a motion upon leaving that day.
In the avoidance of being "just another travel blogger" collecting anklets, tattoos, hearts and diseases along the next months, I am offering a disjointed take on it all-
There will be no
"Day 1: Singapore, stayed at the Hyatt, stole a robe, ate Western food by the pool all day."
Nor will there be
"Day 17: Mumbai, I really find that I am becoming one with this culture and getting to know myself better as I was sprinkled with dirty water on the street AT THE SAME TIME as there was a bell ringing in the distance and it represents me letting go of all my chattels so I'm going to shave the side of my head."
I got asked if I was a journalist or blogger the other day when I was eating a felafel wrap and scribbling notes at Shelter Seminyak cafe. I haven't bought a journal yet and was just reporting the last few hours, but was nice to start conversation all the same. Perhaps that is an 'in' to meeting people over this journey. Perhaps I could make it more obvious and bring a typewriter, ask for copies of the menu, 'poopoo' food and staring off into the distance to conjure a sentence like a teenager sneaking in late at night tries to conjure an excuse as to where they have been.
I digress.
It's going to be tricky to get into the swing of regular updates, as this hotel has computers but I'm not sure if our ones in Cambodia, Vietnam and India will. So, I shall try with little and often.
Or lots and seldom. It depends. I can't really think straight right now as I think my legs are being bitten by mosquito and i can't hit them as they are sore from VINYASA LEVEL 2 and also the huge graze I got on my shin from jumping in the pool fully clothed at the wedding.
More on that later.
Send comments and feedback PLEASE so that I feel some kind of obligation to write these. Also; sorry there are no pictures, I haven't found the proper app to load then from! .
Jj
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