Great Expectations

"You'll be fine after two weeks. Everything will seem normal. Give it two weeks." Not quite, guys. Try again.

We asked a lot of ourselves after only a couple of weeks, we're still watching the bikes whoosh past carrying families, whole stalls and furniture and thinking..."hmm. Health and Safety would have a field day." I'm still reaching for my HTC phone whenever something interesting happens, thinking "damn that was interesting, I'd better let Lewis know about this interesting thing which happened to me IN THAILAND!" And then reality comes back and I'm standing in the heat, surrounded by people giggling at my excitement over their normality whilst oogling my alien paleness with the same wonderment.

It'll take much longer than a couple of flimsy weeks, to get used to this.

Uthai is strange, or rather, what it makes me think is strange. One day I'll be sitting under a much needed air con, feeling sorry for myself and thinking "this town is my hometown...in Thailand. Might as well have stayed home." "Urgh! There's nothing to do here!" (never mind that at this moment I am sat inside, not actually making any effort to explore...) and of course, the unwavering "I want my teddy bear!" All these I'll think and then I'll start a new day, such as today, and I'll see the little side streets, the scurried away stalls of glittering wonderment, the wooden trails of colour leading to glittering white shrines of religion. Inviting exploration. Senses increase and I can see that every place will always have secrets to be discovered, you just have to step outside of your insular security long enough to find the love in them. 

Sarah and I have had a full on few weeks in Thailand, to say the least. I couldn't have coped without The Hives, Florence, Band Of Skulls and every other beauty. We arrived, we went to stay in a host house, with our host family, who we loved - we couldn't help but love them - but circumstances meant we had to move, and we had to move as soon as possible. Now we inhabit a small, deliciously clean, hotel room. Our toilet flushes. It's heaven. But I feel so temporary in a hotel, so out of place. I'm excited to move into our house. OUR house. Maybe then everything will fall into place and I'll feel a lot more like I belong. Despite the daily gawpings and "BEAUTIFUL [WHITE] GIRLS". 
 
The key to finding this town's inevitable treasures is to get lost, and I fully intend to spin myself into disorientation and discover its glitter.

Listening To: II by Unknown Mortal Orchestra (if you want to stay sane, some Beatles-like psychedelia is your medicine)