It has been a week since I returned from my Southeast Asian research jaunt and still I feel the post-travel blues. It is a feeling I am familiar with following two previous travelling stints – inter-railing around Western Europe and 4 months in Southeast Asia. It is a strange feeling, one that doesn’t appear apparent to the conscious mind but it seeps slowly into your thoughts and your moods and before you know it you are grasping onto those memories like clutched straws, staring at photographs hoping they’ll spark those feelings once more. But they are gone, they were felt and then they were gone and now you are left with a dirty tan, worn-out flip-flops and a penchant for hairy legs.
It is amazing how quickly the tan fades, the socks are pulled up and normal hair removal regimes begin. Soon enough, I will be cursing delayed trains, bemoaning the ConLib Government and forgetting that magic feeling of waking up in paradise. But I do not want to go back to that. I have been away three times now and I have experienced too much to know how little I have experienced. There is a whole world of people and places out there and I am just a tiny speck in it all. So despite my self-indulgent post-travel blues I am going to brush myself down, splash cold water on my face and say hello to the wonderful, crazy, messed-up world out there, because it is the only one we have got.