Thailand and Cambodia in a Nutshell

 Eleven days into the new year (and exactly twenty days after my return from Ireland) I boarded the plane in Quebec's wee airport, armed with a backpack, a buddy and four boarding passes, and had the most grueling patience test in my life. Twenty-eight hours of travel time later, my travel buddy and I landed in Bangkok, Thailand, 3 AM local time. We hopped a hot pink taxi and, with halting English and many gestures, got to the first of a fair few hostels we would stay at over the coming month.

It was exhausting, mentally and physically. We didn't have an idle day. Our time was spent visiting palaces, gardens, historical sites, temples, museums and markets. My brain, already taken up with absorbing all the artwork and culture and history, also had to maneuver a completely foreign language, adapt to local customs and learn to haggle like a pro. We met travelers from every corner of the world, a fair few Quebecois among them. We stayed in Bangkok for little less than a week, then took an overnight bus to Phuket, in the south. The beehive-like ambiance in Bangkok was both exhausting and stimulating, so I was more than pleased when Phuket welcomed us with a bit more calm. We rented a scooter and drove up the (steep) hill to the Big Buddha, went snorkeling and swimming in the crystal clear, if not brilliantly turquoise, water, and ate phenomenally well. From Phuket, we took a ferry to Koh Phi Phi, the "party island", then a second ferry to Krabi and a flight to Chiang Mai, up north. Chiang Mai was without a doubt my favourite place in Thailand. Calmer than Phuket, home to many elephant sanctuaries (not all of them good, but they're there...), and the coldest weather I encountered in Asia (hovering around 25 degrees C), it was incredibly relaxing to spend a few days there. We did visit an elephant sanctuary (and yes, we did loads of research beforehand) and made friends with three simply gorgeous and humbling creatures. We bathed them, fed them and just shared the love. It was amazing to reconnect with other nonhuman creatures after having been surrounded by so many people for so long.
After Chiang Mai, we took an overnight bus to Bangkok, a six-hour bus to the Thai-Cambodian border, got our Cambodian visas and hopped another bus from the border to Siem Reap, Cambodia. Dizzying, but worth it. Cambodia is stunning, golden from dirt to sky. The people are friendly and welcoming, the food delicious and the sites breathtaking. I was adamant about stepping onto the sacred and ancient soil of Angkor Wat, and we did indeed spend a whole day there. It was beyond humbling. To think that these massive, yet so intricate structures were built thousands of years ago, well before any concept of "civilization" even began to blossom in our terribly boxed-in minds.
Not too far from the site is a small temple, its inhabitants sociable and curious. A large family of monkeys had taken up residence there, and they were contentedly gorging themselves on fruit when we walked by. A few of the younger ones  were passing the time by climbing trees and jumping into the water of the tiny lake below. The older ones looked much like exasperated elders, sitting calmly on rocks and in the windows of the stone temple, watching their young with upturned noses but ever-watchful eyes. I made sure to take a few photos.
Knowing that Cambodia was our last little stretch before coming home to the -30 degree winter, we relaxed a bit and walked around the markets, buying gifts and harem pants. So may pairs of harem pants.
I didn't - and won't - calculate the amount of time it took us to get from Siem Reap, Cambodia to Quebec City, Canada, but rest assured that it was well over 36 hours.

If visiting Ireland and Scotland enabled me to look inward and find myself and my roots, backpacking Thailand and Cambodia made me sprout wings. I was plunged into a completely foreign world, surrounded by a language I have no knowledge of and a culture I knew nothing about, and I learned to adapt. I learned to improvise, learn things on the spot, make decisions and stay calm in a whirlwind of busy life. It was humbling, enlightening, fascinating and beautiful.

Happy New Year...Updates and plans

I'm a wee bit late. Oops.

Being rather ill and therefore lacking sufficient motivation to do, well, things that should be done, I figured it's high bloody time I set to writing stuff down again.

So it's 2015, has been for some time now, and I suppose updates are in order. Woo!

I returned from Ireland on December 21st, and it was the single most difficult thing I have ever had to do in my entire life. I bid farewell to Scotland the weekend before, and I was an emotional wreck for the better part of a fortnight. I found my soul in Scotland, and left it there. So when I left, I felt like a shattered porcelain doll. As soon as the plane lifted off the ground I dissolved into tears, and was fairly dehydrated by the time I landed in Montreal. The only thing that sustained me, and still does, is the notion that I will be going back. People have asked me why, seeing as I've already been. The answer is very simple - because I can't not go back.

Twenty days after my return, I was back on a plane, this time in the opposite direction. We flew across North America and the Pacific to Bangkok, starting another set of brilliant adventures. Though I loved my time in Asia and deeply value everything I learned while I was there, I can't say I was teary-eyed at the thought of coming home.

I've been working constantly since I got back, here and there and everywhere.

A year ago, I had started planning a volunteer project in Madagascar for the month of March, which very obviously didn't happen. As disappointed as I was, and am, I can't say that I was ready and willing to spend little less than eight grand to volunteer for three weeks. If I had that kind of money, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But I don't. Hakuna matata.

In regards to future plans....

People say that there are things you can't ignore. I'd be a fool if I ignored my soul-deep love for Scotland, and the maelstrom of emotions I feel when I'm there, which flit between heart-wrenching love and euphoria mingled with suffocating sorrow at the prospect of leaving. Three weeks from today I'll be boarding yet another plane, this one taking me back to Scotland, or as I prefer to call it, home.