We've enjoyed pottering about Koh Samui for a few days but today the rain is falling hard and we're getting a boat and bus to Phuket.
Yesterday, in an effort to do something that didn't involve shops or tourist beaches, we went to the island's 'Snake Farm'. I'm not quite sure what we expected but it wasn't to see a dark room full of pickled snakes, other reptiles in jars and a few unhappy half-dead creatures in tiny, shabby vivariums. The contraption I made out of a bedside cabinet when I was 14 for my pet lizards was far more adequate than those we saw! I think we're done with visiting animals in Asian zoos!
We've been watching the news about the divers off Indonesia who got dragged off course by the currents and turned up two days later on a remote island. We were in fact planning a trip there in a few weeks as it's known for its excellent dive sites. It's still on the cards once Ric arm is healed.
I wouldn't say either of us is bored of our travels but we can't help ourselves from constantly thinking ahead, about ideas we have for books and films, and increasingly about our wallets. This has been an expensive week and we keep losing or forgetting things (Ric's swimming trunks, our passports, my bracelet etc. etc.). Ouch!
It is great to get away, it really is, but after only two months on the road, Ric and I are eager to be productive and creative in our different ways. We're as restless as each other. So I have bought some notepads for us. He wants to get going with his screenplay and I want to start writing. More than just this blog.
We're not very good beach bums are we?!
I especially find it hard to allow myself to stop and switch off for even just a moment. I've come away with a lot of 'I shoulds' and 'I wants' and other expectations, putting a lot of pressure on myself. I think when one goes travelling one assumes or hopes certain things will happen, patterns will be broken, shifts will occur in one's head, and I for one try so hard to seize every moment and enjoy myself that I think I prevent myself from rolling with it. And then there are my crazy thoughts. I'm presently contemplating the possibility that I've been zapped in to a parallel universe. Ric says I should turn my nutty ideas in to novel.
Some people seem to know with such certainty what they want in life or at least they are content with what they have, with compromises perhaps. I don't know what to do for a job when I get to Australia. All I really want to do is write. Maybe academia is my calling. I feel too old to be deliberating about a career still but I do know with some certainty that I will always be a restless spirit to some degree. Perhaps my main problem isn't my lack of ability but this sense that I want everything and now!
Perhaps it really doesn't matter what I do. Some times, trite though it sounds, when I know I am loved and find a kernel of self-love within, I think that's all I need.
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