I see a pattern returning from my time in Europe in 2019 – I’m not good at making time to write blogs when I’m on holiday. I’ve been in Israel for 10 days now but I’m taking the day today to catch up on my blog.

I arrived in Bangkok late at night and was thoroughly scalped by my taxi driver – 300 Baht, or NZD$15, for a 5-minute ride. My hostel was as close to the airport as I could get it and I enjoyed a return to Thailand prices ($37 for two nights in a private room) even if I didn’t particularly enjoy the return to Thailand heat and humidity! After a cold shower I passed out and was extremely pleased to manage to sleep through the night – when I’d arrived in Phuket almost two months prior, I’d been up at 4am from jet lag.

After a breakfast of free bananas in the hostel’s lounge (local Thai bananas are completely different from the commercially grown variety, and I absolutely adore them), I managed to reserve a moped from a rental company in the centre of Bangkok and set off in a Bolt (Thailand’s version of Uber). An hour later I was picking up a very nice moped and was off for a day of exploring. First stop, a vegan restaurant with some delicious nuggets made out of oyster mushrooms for lunch (oyster mushrooms are one of my favourite foods, and prohibitively expensive in NZ); then a long ride through the baking heat of downtown Bangkok to the Grand Palace. I’d missed riding around Thailand, it’s a very specific kind of chaos and I really enjoy it. But in the two months since I’d been there the “winter” dry season had ended and “summer” rainy season was beginning, and the humidity and temperature were extreme. I rode through countless patches of air hotter than my body temperature – you can tell because as you ride through them, it feels like someone turned a fan heater on you, and the faster you go the hotter it gets. But eventually, and very dehydrated, I made it to the Grand Palace.

On my last trip to Thailand, despite spending 5 weeks in the country, Yinon and I didn’t visit a single holy site. So although I’d read a million times that there are dress codes for them, I’d completely forgotten that when showing up to the Grand Palace. For 100 Baht I picked up a cotton cardigan to cover my shoulders – thankfully I’d worn long pants – and with a cold bottle of coconut water in hand I entered Bangkok’s most famous attraction. Entry was 500 Baht and I forked out another 200 Baht for an audio guide, which was definitely a good call as I learnt quite a lot about the beautiful buildings and relics I was seeing.

The Grand Palace incorporates countless stunning buildings and the crown jewel is the Emerald Buddha, housed in a breathtaking purpose-built temple. The walls are covered in murals, the ceiling a vivid red and gold, and the altar on which the Emerald Buddha sits is probably the most gold I’ve seen in one place in my life. Visitors must remove their shoes before entering and sit on the Italian marble floor with their feet facing away from the Buddha. Photos and videos are strictly prohibited within the temple, although the Buddha can be photographed from outside the temple through the central door. Only members of the royal family may enter through this door and as such it’s cordoned off; tourists enter through the left door and exit through the right. The Emerald Buddha is Thailand’s most holy relic and in addition to the multitudes of tourists I saw several Thai people bowing and praying to the Buddha during my minutes soaking in the grandeur of the room.

After seeing the Emerald Buddha I decided nothing further in the Grand Palace could top it; and besides I was entirely too hot and forgetting to bring sunscreen to combat the burning sun didn’t help. So I got back on my moped and headed to the centre of Bangkok for a Thai massage (I’ve really missed them!) and some mango sticky rice, one of my favourite Thai desserts. Later, wandering through the touristic streets, I found a used bookstore and bought a cheap copy of a book I’d once studied in high school and had been intending to reread; then settled into a cafe for a mango passionfruit smoothie (another favourite of mine) and the first couple of chapters.

I’d been considering going for a rubberneck in one of Thailand’s red light districts, but couldn’t decide if it was ethical to do so or not. In the end I decided against it, so after finishing my smoothie I rode back to the scooter rental shop to return my ride. It was only in the last kilometre or so that I realised the street I was riding along seemed to have some “adult” named bars in it. As I returned the scooter I realised that I was unwittingly on Nana Plaza, one of Bangkok’s most famous red light streets. With the closest Bolt over half an hour away (it was about 5pm, peak travel time), I went for a wander in search of a Chang, my favourite Thai beer. I tried the first busy-looking bar I saw, only to realise it was busy only because it was packed with Western men and Thai working girls, and did an immediate 180. A little further along I saw a much quieter bar with seating facing the street – perfect for people-watching – and got myself a seat. When my Chang arrived the man two seats away raised his glass and said “Cheers!”, and we ended up chatting. His name was Joe, on holiday with his wife from Korea where they work in the British Embassy. We had fantastic talks about the ethics of red light districts and the socioeconomic conditions that lead to them; the upcoming Thai election and whether the military will allow a democratic transfer of power to take place; the ethics of visiting North Korea (he’s heading there soon); and many other interesting topics that I’ve since forgotten. He was a highly intelligent and fascinating person, and I learnt a lot from our conversation. And remembering my experience with Sam in Melbourne, I managed to get a selfie before we parted ways!

After that I got my Bolt back to the hostel, went for a quick dinner of pad see ew and to the 7-11 for flight snacks, then passed out for a power-nap, waking up at 10pm. I was packed and off to the airport by 11pm – very early for my 4am departure time, but I’d not been able to find any information on when check-in opened, and I was extremely concerned about my luggage. Gulf Air, with whom I’d be flying the remainder of my journey, has very small baggage dimension allowances which I had hugely exceeded (although I was also way under my weight limit – a classic situation when transporting paragliders). And with no information about oversize luggage on their website, and a Gulf Air representative who’d told me over email that anything oversize would have to go separately on a cargo plane, I was really worried about check-in! Thankfully it was, as my mother would have said, “a waste of a worry” – I checked in no problem at around half an hour past midnight and was extremely early to my gate. On board at around 5am local time I promptly passed out again, and when I awoke 6 hours later it was to my first ever daytime view of the Middle East as we flew over the Arabian Gulf, looking down on the arid coastline of Oman.

I spent the remainder of the flight listening to music and looking out the window. We passed directly over Dubai and within two hours were touching down in Bahrain. The buildings I saw as we came in to land were so completely Middle-Eastern and utterly foreign to me, I felt like I’d stepped into a BBC News story. I could barely spare the time to blink, I was absolutely drinking in the complete strangeness of the place.

Bahrain Airport was the fanciest airport I’ve ever been in, and I’ve spent many hours in Singapore Changi, so I know how fancy airports can be! The airport interior was almost entirely clad in white marble, it was like being in a 5-star hotel. Bahrain is a tiny and insanely wealthy country and it really shows in their facilities. It also really shows in their prices – a coffee and a pastry set me back around NZD$25!! The airport was full of people from every corner of the world but of course plenty of people from the Middle East, and it was another massive culture shock to see Arab men with multiple wives in burqas, Hasidic Jews wearing their huge hats, heavy black coats and dangling tzitzit, and Saudi men in their white robes and traditional red and white keffiyeh head coverings.

My final flight, Bahrain to Tel Aviv, was delayed by an hour. I’d requested a window seat but it was over the wing, and the pollution is so bad here I couldn’t really see much of the ground – terrifying. But I had the entire row to myself and spent most of the flight sprawled out across three seats, back propped up by Gulf Air’s complimentary pillows, reading my book. I looked out the window for the last half hour though, watching as we crossed the thin line of the Jordan River marking the border between Israel and Jordan, circled over Tel Aviv, and finally came down gently onto a runway surrounded by arid red earth. After 74 hours in transit, I’d made it.

Customs was easy, I was granted a three-month visa on arrival, and although it took me a while to figure out how to use the luggage trolleys (you need to guarantee it with a credit card) I eventually got it sorted. Both my checked bags arrived and I finally started to breathe a sigh of relief that I’d made it.

And as I came out of the controlled area I saw Yinon waiting for me, with a beautiful bouquet of flowers; and the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on his face, perfectly matching the one on mine.

After three hours in the air I touched down in Australia. The lights of Melbourne were sprawling beneath me for at least 10 minutes at the end of the flight (keep in mind that 10 minutes at Airbus A320 speed is a LOT of distance) and I felt my small-town, small-country perspective for the first time in quite a while – intimidated and honestly a bit disgusted by the sheer amount of space we take up, the massive scope of human civilisation by comparison to every other species. But then we were on the ground and philosophising on the monstrosity of humankind went out the window, to be replaced by more mundane issues like why won’t my phone connect to the Melbourne Airport Free Wi-Fi?

From leaving the plane to walking out of the airport terminal took me approximately six minutes, by far the fastest I’ve ever crossed a controlled border – that’s six minutes total for passport control, collecting my bags, clearing biosecurity, and navigating out of the terminal building. Amazing! I tried to turn on roaming on my phone but my mobile data refused to work; and my phone could connect to the Melbourne Airport Free Wi-Fi but stayed on “connected, no internet”, so I was truly internet-less. 

In the queue for the Skybus into the CBD I asked the girl behind me if she was a local and could hotspot me some data – she said no, she’s not local, and can you believe this weather! It was 10pm and probably 13 degrees, and I was just about to agree that it was amazingly warm when she started saying she was freezing. My small-town response – “but didn’t you just come from Queenst- where did you arrive from?”. I’d forgotten that big airports have planes landing more than twice an hour and genuinely assumed she must have been on my flight. Turned out she’d arrived from Brisbane – no wonder she was chilly.

I thought my WiFi problems were over when the Skybus had free WiFi – then had the same issue with that network too. This was a bit of a problem because it meant that I was dropped in the Melbourne CBD at about 11pm local time with no map to my hostel. Through exceeding luck however, there was an interactive map at the bus station, and I was able to memorise how to get to my hostel well enough to only get lost once. It wasn’t a long walk but with 40kg of luggage weight going through one’s spine any walk feels long! 

Check-in was a breeze, I could connect to the hostel WiFi (thank God) and bar the slight mishap of my water bottle leaking about 800ml of water onto my duvet and mattress right before I got into bed (I piled towels on the enormous wet patch, it was fine) I managed to get a fairly decent night’s sleep. I was up at 5:55 this morning (7:55 NZ time – my alarm is always set for 8am at the latest so my circadian rhythm clearly knows what it’s doing) and by 7:30am was sitting in a little cafe around the corner from the hostel to meet an old friend for breakfast. 

Sam and I worked together at Critic, the student magazine for the University of Otago, back in 2014 – he as the lead graphic designer, and myself as a reporter – and neither of us could remember when we’d last seen each other but it’s been at least 6 years, probably more. We keep in sporadic contact through Facebook – isn’t the internet wonderful (when it works)? It was fantastic to see him after all these years and we chatted away happily over poached eggs on toast and excellent coffee. When the meal finished I requested a walk, and off we went around the CBD. I couldn’t have asked for a more enthusiastic or knowledgeable tour guide – we did a huge loop and saw lots of wonderful sites, including the Yarra River, Flinders Street Station, Batman Park (great name), and some extremely tall buildings. Sam’s a fast walker (like me – thank goodness because I have minimal patience for ambling) so we managed to fit lots in! I was craning my neck to look at the skyscrapers – many of them very modern, and stunning – and once again really felt my small-town (incorrect) expectations of the world being shifted. It’s not like I expect everywhere to be like Queenstown, obviously that’s ridiculous; but I’d completely forgotten the feel of these really big cities like Melbourne, and it’s a strange and unique feeling to re-assimilate that knowledge back into my understanding of the world.

Sam timed the loop perfectly so we were back at the hostel at 10am, and he helped carry 20kg ish of my luggage back to the bus station (thanks Sam!). The whole time on our tour I’d been looking for a good spot to take a selfie together (I don’t think we have one single photo together) and saying “We mustn’t forget to get a selfie, we really mustn’t forget” – and what do you think I forgot? I realised it about five minutes after I got on the bus – dammit.

The bus ride was uneventful (WiFi still didn’t work on the bus), as was check-in for my flight to Bangkok (WiFi still didn’t work in the airport terminal), and I was in the international area with 45 minutes to spare. While wandering around I had a sudden vivid recollection of being in the same area while on transit to Bali in 2018 – and that there had been a beautiful black baby grand piano nearby. I found it easily – it’d moved, but only 20 metres or so – and played two songs. The departure lounge it’s located in was packed and I almost managed to convince myself in the first song that no-one was listening (I get bad stage-fright), only for me to finish the song and have about 100 people applaud. Well-meaning and flattering, but it meant that by the time I was halfway through the second song my hands were shaking so badly I could barely play, and I wrapped it up after that.

We got away half an hour late on our flight to Bangkok and as I type this on my laptop Notes app for later publication we’re travelling 848kmh at 38000 feet. Melbourne is 2583km behind us and we’re tracking towards Darwin – 4941 km to go and 5 and a half hours remaining of this 9 hour flight. This is the longest flight on my itinerary, which surprised me to realise, as I expected Bangkok to Bahrain to be further. I’ll be happy to have it out of the way, and even happier to be past the halfway point on my journey to Israel and Yinon.

It’s been one thousand, three hundred and thirty five days since I last wrote a word on this blog – 3 years, 7 months and 26 days. I wonder who’ll see this? Any subscribers may expect quite different stories than I have to tell now. I contemplated starting a fresh blog, a fresh start; but my adventures in Europe are a part of me, as is Rene, and it seemed more fitting to continue with this one. After all, I’m still piloting, and still often barefoot, and still possessed of a desire to capture my experiences in the world and pin them down in words and images.

I’m writing this in the international departure lounge of Queenstown International Airport, at the beginning of 36 hours of travel involving four connecting flights, travelling from my tiny corner of the globe to one of the ancients seats of human civilisation, Israel. My partner, Yinon, is Israeli; he’s stuck out of NZ waiting for his work visa to be processed. Immigration NZ said something like 90% of applications are processed within 8 weeks, but he must be in the 10%, because we’re at 12 weeks and still counting. So I’m heading to Israel to see him, after almost two months apart (we spent 5 weeks together in Thailand at the beginning of his exile from NZ). I’m beyond excited to see him again, as well as his lovely mother Rachel (whom I also met in Thailand); and to meet his siblings, father, friends, and see the wonders of a country which has been packed with thriving humanity for over 5,000 years.

It’s been a hectic time getting ready – packing down my life, whether it’s for 5 weeks or 5 months is yet to be determined – but I’ve made it to the departures lounge in one piece. I’m stressed about the size of my bags (they’re underweight but oversize – a classic issue when transporting paragliders) and slightly apprehensive of the number of opportunities I have to miss a connection. Tonight I fly to Melbourne; tomorrow afternoon, to Bangkok; and 36 hours later, at 4am local time, to Bahrain and from there to Tel Aviv. I expect to arrive in Israel quite tired; but as long as my baggage all arrives with me, I’m happy!

My dear friend Eden dropped me to the airport tonight. He’s looking after my car and my houseplants while I’m out of the country and we had a lovely time sitting in the airport cafe drinking wine and, to quote both of us, “talking sh*t”. I arrived 2 hours early, expecting huge queues to rival the 75 minute wait I had when heading to Thailand two months ago; but apparently this is a very empty flight as there’s been not one person ahead of me at either check-in or security.

Perfect timing – there’s the call for boarding, ten minutes ahead of schedule. It’s already 8pm so if we can get away early and arrive early into Melbourne, all the better!

To finish the post, here’s a photo of Eden, toasting safe travels to me on my journey.

That’s all for now. Next stop, Melbourne!

PS: It sure is nice to be writing again.