I Wish My Dad Was Liam Neeson ....

There are times in your life when you feel like you are in a sort of limbo. I felt it when I finished primary school. I felt it for the 6 weeks between finishing the school year and moving house at the age of 15. I felt it between finishing my leaving certificate and going to University. I am feeling it today. Its the awareness of ending a significant era in your life and beginning a new era that is going to be equally as significant. The unease that comes with a limbo is connected to the unknown.You know that what you have done so far has led you to this, and you know whether it has been good or bad. What lies ahead is unplanned and unknown. Its friggin scary.

So the last week has comprised of going to farewell parties, being given beautiful gifts of Thai silk, finalising salary payments, and packing. Of course it also involved saying goodbye to teachers I live and work with who I will genuinely miss, and students who have made my experience here in Rattanaburi Thailand so amazing. Its safe to say, it has been an emotional roller-coaster of  a week.One minute I am nearly on the verge of jumping around with excitement at the thought of what I will see and experience over the next three months of travelling, and then literally the next second I am struck dumb with fear of all that could go wrong; I could lose my passport. I could be robbed and have no money. I could miss my flight. I could make mistakes with my reservations and have nowhere to go. I could be attacked. I could get lost. I could be kidnapped. I could be arrested Bridget Jones style for drugs which are planted in my suitcase, and I honestly dont think the Irish government have a handsome and smart Mr Darcy to come and save me, and my Dad is no Liam Neeson (sorry Dad). I could be caught up in an all Asian war where all the phone and internet lines are disconnected and the rising power wants to eradicate all foreign influences and I have to go on the run to avoid being thrown in Nazi style work camps ..... ok so maybe I am slightly going overboard with the worrying ....

In all seriousness though, heading off alone at 21 years old with minimal Thai/Cambodian/Vietnamese/Malaysian could be considered bordering on utter madness. Sitting here looking at my packed suitcase I am the verge of concurring. But sure, what else am I going to do? No point going home to the cold right? May as well look at some temples, eat some food, lie on the beach and travel on buses and trains and planes alone and avoid alleyways and suspicious men on street corners and dodgy dormmates and anyone who looks like they are about to start a revolution ......

ooooooh someone make me a cuppa before I have a heart attack ....

Sawatdiikha.