England calling

As the flags from the various embassies rimming London's Trafalgar Square clapped alongside a gathered crowd listening to an R&B group belt out Mariah Carey, Michael Jackson and jazzed up Christmas carols, I had a moderate twinge of homesickness and a too-familiar sinking guilt at being away for yet another holiday.  Lured to Trafalgar Square on the promise of lights and a Christmas tree, I was simultaneously disappointed by the lack of lit objects and delighted to stumble upon a live performance that was to last "only as long as the rain holds off" their conductor quipped.

Prior to wandering around London's early evening, I visited a recovering cousin and her husband and later popped into a girlfriend's wedding, where a night of free-flowing white wine and dancing cured my lingering jetlag.  Likely haunted, the reception venue was as enchanting as it was full of friends I hadn't met yet.  

My third time in London, I've been prowling around to former favourites while discovering new gems and checking off what I deem to be very British things - walking in the pouring rain, Eucharist at St. Paul's Cathedral, eating curry and riding the train - whether it's the tube in London or longer hauls, it continues to be my favourite mode of transport.  

I'm meeting a friend I met in Vietnam tonight, followed by an airport sleepover, then on to Morocco tomorrow!  Wish me luck, I'm nervous as hell for the latter!

Independently drying more goodbye tears

'You're so brave and independent. I could never do what you're doing,' a friend said to me of my travels and specifically of my solo undertaking of SE Asia. Yet when I'm an independent traveller is paradoxically when I'm the most dependent on others.

I lean on friends, family, my mother's second cousin's best friend's son and perfect strangers for rides to the airport, couches to crash on, entertainment and onward contacts and recommendations while I'm away from where I come from.

A closet introvert, I must backflip out of my comfort zone and be my most outgoing and open while away from that dynamic definition of home so I can meet other travellers. The formula scarely wavers. Within 10 minutes of 'Where are you from?' onward plans for the next half week together are made, washing powder is shared and tales from the trail and tail are gigglingly exchanged over the local brew while piecing together why the hostel has free wifi but no hot water.

This is why leaving London tomorrow for a winter in SE Asia will be difficult.

I have been staying at a Sharklab friend's flat. I have been hanging out with a friend from uni. I caught up with other friends from the Sharklab. Embedded in the intimacy of daily life - even if only for a while - with people who know me well has truly been a treat. As I have journeyed solo and been part of so many necessary-for-now, but ultimately temporary and disposable relationships I have relished these pockets of comfort, familiarity and ease with old friends.

Thank you Marc and Sam, my favourite filthy couple, for the room. Thank you Steven for popping my opera cherry. Thank you Steve for renewing my love affair with salt-water creatures. Thank you Louise for exploring York with me and later taking me home. To all of you and friends and family dotting the globe, I am most grateful for your time. The massive knot in my throat and filling-up eyes as I write this are a mere testament to how much I enjoyed our brief time together.