Truth.

This morning I headed back to the footpath where I left my necklace. I had gathered from the quick responses of your emails that it wouldn’t take you long. I moved towards the place; I saw you, and you glanced up at me. My pace quickened…I could not make out your identity, besides to say that you greatly resembled the man who so forcefully grabbed my attention way back at the ship and shovel…and the trench coat. You wore it again…my trenched secret man. I could only assume you did so on a whim; just in case I was there to see you. You went as fast as you had come. The moment lasted but the blink of an eye. I panicked.

I saw your coat whip round the corner, flurried by the wind, and I ran. I did not stop, I knew not how to stop – I was so intensely compelled to meet you. Not that I would have had any inkling of what to say or how to feel…words would have been unnecessary, redundant. Perhaps it is because I have never felt such intensity before….or even really felt at all…but I simply could not let you escape my clutches this time. The tables had turned; you began the hunt for me and I will finish it by hunting you. You are more real to me than anything I have known…a ludicrous notion I realize, as we have shared no words or expressions, not even a place. Who would have thought that something so cold, so isolated and shielding as a computer screen could inflict such feelings upon an unsuspecting me. And you, Rune, I suspect…

But I can only get closer by running from you.

I turned the corner and you were gone. Out of sight…but seared into my mind. I have begun to question whether you ever really existed. Have I simply spent so much time on my own that I have forged a fictional character with whom to connect? Perhaps I can only truly commit to myself….or extensions of myself…realities which exist only for a moment before subsequently drifting with the wind into my subconscious, never to be seen again. And then, did I really spend a romantic few days with Anton? And is the name and number on a stained and yellowing old coaster really that of Tom, the bartender….or merely another, less appealing figment of my imagination…

The past few weeks have formed a blur. I think I shall find myself a nice, cold bench…not too dissimilar to my cold hard bed at home, the stark sheets obsessively neat –they have been that way for days – in the middle of a cold, dark and empty room which lends nothing to the imagination. I still have a couple of hours until my flight…I could use a short rest. It has been an endlessly frantic few weeks. It is 6pm, dinner time….oh yes I can hear mother calling; always the same time everyday. Her routines drive me insane.

Until next time.

My Gold Necklace: in a crack in the sidewalk

The second photo...

With the following message;

Keep Running. I will find you.

Yours faithfully,

Rune.

Just to hear from you made my day.

-Alaina.

My New Hairstyle...for as long as i can bear it!

I plan to retain my new look for as long as I can bear, or at least until I move on, away from this place, to an environment unsuited to such luscious locks. The past few days have seen me hitching a ride on a jet ski with a rather lovely young man who offered to show me the ropes, riding a banana boat ( more exhilarating than I expected!) and taking a speed boat out to phi phi island; the location for the film ‘the beach’, among others. The scenery was amazing; unlike anything I had previously witnessed in my short lifetime. The tour lasted the whole day and included a stop over at some amazing markets and a traditional Thai lunch. Our tour guide was a ladyboy….such an entertaining sight! I appreciated the eccentric commentary and overtly intriguing host, as I’m sure my fellow tour members did. Scuba diving along coral reefs was another highlight; once I mastered the scuba gear…which proved a great deal more challenging than at first thought, the experience blew me away. Fish of all colours, shapes and sizes dipped and swirled beneath and around me. The coral beckoned them back to their home with its outstretched arms, flailing with the currents…they abided…and left again. I could relate.

The Beach; filmed at Phi Phi Island

Now back in my hotel…I have had time to think. Funnily enough, I have not been thinking of much more than my secret man. Rune…. I feel I am at my wits end. I have heard nothing from you. I may have no choice but to move…and leave a small part of myself behind, again. It has become a sort of routine….and I am not accustomed to routines, but for you Rune, I shall abide. Your game, your rules. I leave my gold necklace, given to me by my grandmother on my 18^th birthday, in a crack in the pavement outside the Patong Merlin. Please retrieve it for me….i would rather it in your hands than whisked away by the sidewalk traffic unbeknownst to the passers by who fail to so much as register it on the Patong landscape. I know you will appreciate its being there…..

For now, I pack my things, ready to relocate to another exotic location…one which I have not yet decided upon but a decision which will be made with hast upon my arrival at the airport. My favourite place in the world, soon we shall be reunited. The anticipation and apprehension overcomes me…

I shall reconnect with you soon.

-Jane

What a breath of fresh…and remarkably warm air Thailand has been! This is my third day in the country; I spent 2 in Bangkok and now find myself on the Island of Phuket. While a tourist hub, I like this place a great deal; the people and the atmosphere suck you in and make it near impossible to leave….

I am staying at the Patong Merlin Hotel right on Patong beach; such a perfect location for shopping and lazy beach days. I had become accustomed to the refined dress codes, coffee stops and sight seeing mandatory to the European culture and weather…now I am free to wear what I chose and do next to nothing for days on end. It is not my usual style, but I think I could warm to it… I have just returned from a few hours by the pool. I have become obsessed with Stephenie Meyers novel ‘Twilight’; not my usual style either but it, too, sucks you in and compels you to endlessly turn page after page…but then, what is my usual style? It is quite a ridiculous statement really to suggest than I, of all people, have a usual ‘style’. I have never been committed to anything for longer than a moment. With the exception of this blog it seems…and thus I suppose you, Rune…if you are reading this. My back is seething under my loose white shirt as I struggle to find a comfortable and painless position in my brown leather chair. The humidity within the open aired hotel lobby does not aid in lessening the pain of my already deep crimson back, chest and legs. You are never too young to receive needless horrendous sunburn it seems. Reading a teen novel and burning my supple skin in the scorching midday heat…I feel I have regressed 10 years to my former 17 year old self…Curse Stephenie Meyer and her impeccably engrossing writing skills.

As I write this blog, many vacationers stroll in and out of the lobby. The occasional loud American tourist, plenty of aussies whom I try to avoid as this trip was meant to be a complete removal of myself from all things familiar and tied to my previous life. My mother enquired as to when my travels would end…I remain quite certain that they probably never will. A group of boisterous Australians do their country proud as they hustle past me; sporting ‘wife beaters’ (navy bonds singlets) and board shorts donning the Australian flag. You can see them coming a mile off. That is generally when I turn to walk the other way….

What an exciting day I have planned…no doubt more gripping than the lazy hours spent by the pool which precede me. First to a beauty parlor where I plan to get my nails done as well as a full body massage. They are so pleasingly affordable and like nothing else on earth…or so I’ve heard. I’m a little apprehensive as to exactly how to interpret this recommendation what with all the lady boys whom flood the streets at night, before scuttling off to their regular day jobs at first light. I resolve to ignore the warning signs and take the plunge…even if it entails having a slightly too close encounter with a slightly too masculine female…it’s all a part of the experience. After the massage, provided I still have enough bravado lurching within me, I plan to get my hair braided…ill post some photos of that when (and if) it occurs; proof that I didn’t run for the hills! Although it’s not a guarantee that I won’t at this point… so no promises. I shall fill you in on how it all plays out…should be an interesting day regardless! After the beauty parlor I may stroll by the markets on my way back to the hotel; haggling has fast become a favourite sport of mine. They say you should start at half of what the seller offers. The REAL starting point is in fact a quarter, at most. These cunning individuals have a real knack for ripping off unsuspecting Aussie tourists, with their cheesy but well rehearsed lines; ‘gday mate’, ‘hows it goin?’…expect a collection of bargain priced souvenirs upon my return.

In amongst the lazing about I have managed to fit a couple of tourist trips in, and have taken many a photo in and around phuket…I shall upload a few of the better ones onto flickr when I get a chance, so stay tuned! For now, this is a photo I took of some tuk tuks lined up along the street; they provide such convenient and inexpensive transport – if only i could take one with me on every adventure!

Tuk Tuks; the ultimate form of transport!

My Hotel: Patong Merlin

The highlight was most definitely riding elephants; they are such beautiful and mild natured creatures. The way the owners hit them and the chains they bore around their ankles angered and compelled me to join an animal activist group. While the splendor of these animals enthralled me for the time I was graced by their presence, their captivity shocked and appalled me. I Have now joined PETA (people for the ethical treatment of animals), and I urge you to also.

 

 

 

 

I adore Phuket, perhaps more than I had expected. This may be due to the stark differences it embodies when compared with the European way of life. It suits me just fine right in this moment…

 

I am closer to home than I have been for a long while. Closer than you might think. And while it may sound absurd, I feel a sort of absence having not heard from Rune in a number of days. If it weren’t for the immense desire to stay in this place, I am sure I would have already fled if for no other reason than to beckon my follower. My secret man… where are you Rune?

 

I must know…I have never had such a desire to meet with someone, to know their motives, desires, secrets…

 

I have plenty to share myself.

 

-Alaina Jane

 

I always feel like I am nowhere, in limbo, with nothing to relate to or ground me and nothing concrete when waiting at the airport. The usual ritual of browsing the few uninteresting and overpriced airport stores begins the longwinded stint of boredom and restlessness, followed by the search for a remotely comfortable looking chair upon which I may read, attempt to sleep, or simply lay and ponder. Once all this has come to pass I habitually turn to my Blog; the one thing which grounds me in this expansive, white, tension filled place which I have for some reason found myself unable to connect with. Perhaps this is because I feel it is not in itself a place; merely a middle point between an origin and a destination. Whatever the case, my inability to feel comfortable in my surrounds has again driven me to this blog; a gateway through which I may connect with places I have been and wonder upon those to which a visit is impending. I have parted with London; it was not an easy thing to do but something I felt to be necessary; I had taken all that I could from the city and felt I should move on.

And then there is the man.

Or at least that’s what I am assuming he is…perhaps simply because I have never truly connected with another female over the course of my life. What would posses one to try to reach out to me now is beyond me….thus it has to be a man. A trench coated man…

I should explain myself further as I feel that my writings may be leaving you in a state of confusion…unless the photographer is in fact the only person viewing this blog, in which case it would all have made perfect sense. Nontheless, I shall fill you in on the more recent occurrences. In my last post I mentioned the red scarf which I left in a pot plant outside the ship and shovel as a means to say perpetuate a connection with the city and, as a second thought, in hope of a reunion with ‘Rune’ – he who sent the first email. Sure enough, I received a second email containing the following picture just this morning:

I left my red scarf in a potplant...

It seems my friend wastes no time in picking up where he left off…

Im still very unsure as to how to approach this. In a way I am flattered, in another I find it a little disconcerting. I find myself in an odd place, one unlike any I have encountered before. While I can in any physical situation merely remove myself from a place and become anonymous again in yet another, this blog entails that I am forever contactable, always grounded in some way, and reachable. By anyone, at any time, on any sort of impulsive whim which may compel them to reach out to me… This is a reality previously unbeknownst to me. In any normal situation I would find myself writhing and fretting at the notion of being ‘tied down’…but this is different in some way. I resolve to ride it out, take what comes for a change. There is always the ‘delete’ button regardless….one click and this whole thing never even happened…

The wonders of technology.

Goodbye for now…my flight to Thailand awaits. I have a clamoring urge to evade Europe for a time… and to serve up a challenge for Rune.

-Alaina.

The first email i received

The Second.

The ship and shovel was all that I had dreamed of in an English pub; wooden in and out with a few booths lining the edges of the pub and bar stools hovering near the bar; alluring the wearied businessman, rowdy local or lone traveler. I chose a stool near the corner; not too far out of the way as to be completely removed from the action but with enough distance to entirely soak up my surrounds and look upon my fellow pub goers with intense interest. I ordered a pint of lager in keeping with English traditions; as they say, when in Rome… Sipping from my dauntingly large glass jug, much more daintily than those around me might i add, I observed a group of 5 men laughing, swearing and singing the night away and smiled at their folly. Out of the corner of my eye I had noticed a man sitting across the bar who looked vaguely familiar…before I had a chance to take a closer look, the barman strode my way, cleaning a pint jug with a shabby looking old cloth, and enquired about what i was doing ‘down this way’. I spoke to him for a short while and explained my Australian heritage and current travels; he seemed interested in my lack of direction and said he admired my spontaneity; wished he could follow in my footsteps one day and leave everything on a whim. I smiled faintly at him; I’m sure it had been easier for me to leave the little there was to keep me back than it would be for him. He wrote his name, Tom, and his number on a used coaster and said if I ever wanted some tips on where to go, a place to stay or just a friend in a strange place, to give him a call. He was a sweet guy, but I had never needed any of those things from anyone…. Something I refrained from telling him in that moment. Sometimes certain things are better left unsaid…

As I thanked him for the kind offer, I looked up to see that the man who had looked so familiar was pulling on his brown trench coat, and turned suddenly to Tom, saying I had somewhere to go and must be off. The look on his face told me he didn’t quite believe that one; a girl in a strange city with no contacts and somewhere to be in such a hurry? I smiled apologetically; I think he knew he wouldn’t see me again. After my eyes had lingered upon his for a short time I made my way to the door after the man, who had placed a 10 pound note on the bar and made his way through the door, which chimed a cheery goodbye, and into the bitter wind outside. I turned in a circle upon receiving the heavy wall of wind, only to realize I had lost him….he had obvisouly been in more of a rush than I. Perhaps it was nothing…perhaps I had never seen this man before, but I was intrigued and a little on edge after being sent a picture of the pink umbrella I had left in the tree in Paris, observing from its perch the passers by. Obviously I was mistaken in thinking that no one may have been following my blog. I have at least one reader who cares enough to track down the piece of me I left behind….perhaps my writings are in fact not for my own exclusive gratification after all….

The umbrella i left in a tree in Paris

Unable to decipher what all this meant, I thought I should put it to the test…I will leave my red patterned scarf within a potplant outside the ship and shovel… this time as a means by which to keep a hold upon London town even with my departure; which I feel to be drawing closer, and as a nod to the new owner of my beloved pink umbrella…

-Alaina

London. I’ve always desired a meeting with this place. I’m not entirely sure what the attraction has been but over the years it has grown ever stronger; and I have not been disappointed. I am staying in a small hotel room just near Charing Cross station (the London underground is a God-send, weaving its way through the city like spaghetti it is perfect for my unprompted far-flung ventures…). It is fairly small and boxy with a patchwork quilted single bed, static ridden television, neglected bathroom with a cramped shower, and some basic cooking facilities –a kettle and microwave. Despite its deficiencies it provides ample space for my purposes; I tend not to find myself spending too much time there anyway- the attraction of the expansive city I adore is enough to keep me away!

I have been here for 2 days now, apologies for not filling you all in sooner but its been an eventful few days!! Ive seen many of the major sites; Big Ben, Windsor castle, the London eye, but that which most appealed to me was in fact Madam Tussauds wax museum; a place I had not expected to appreciate to the extent that I did…wading my way through the stiff replicas, whom if not for their notoriety I could not distinguish from the hundreds of other onlookers; the manner in which their artificial life which seemed to writhe beneath their glossed eyes was disconcerting. How could something so life like be so void of any intellectual capacity or emotion? Staring back at Princess Di’s intent and impenetrable gaze I saw a kind of reflection of myself within her; existing in a room packed full of jostling, excitable people and being completely and inanely inept at communicating with anyone. I feel that sometimes I embody a wax sculpture in my life at times. This may be the stem of my spontaneous departure….and the reason why I am unsure as to who, if anyone, is actually following this blog. Sometimes I wonder if it is more for myself than anything…

These things seem such trivial and minute details of my life at the present time. I am traveling abroad, my own free spirit, drawn to whatever place on a whim with no ropes or chains or questions of others to tie me down or direct me. Just the way I like it…          

On that note, the ‘Ship and Shovel’ pub just down the road calls me for my first ever English pub experience… not to disappoint I’m sure!

The Ship and Shovel

I shall blog again soon… I’ve been a bit slack lately so ill be sure to keep you up to date on my travels!

-Alaina

The quality isnt the best but you’ll get the general idea. Welcome to your own little slice of my Paris! Enjoy

-Alaina