Parting is such sweet sorrow...

I'm writing this from a swanky hotel in Bangkok. Not as exciting as it sounds, as I'm staring outside at the smog that sluggishly drapes itself around Bangkok's cityscape like a sticky shawl. In one direction the mud-flavoured river snakes into the distance, dotted with long tail boats and river cruisers, some of which sport trendy Thai style roofs. In all other directions the city spreads it's fingers infinitely, slums and luxury high rises living side by side, fighting for available space and light like plants competing in an overcrowded urban garden.

I am weary and emotional. I feel that I have had my fill of Thailand in this particular chapter of life. I look ahead, and yearn for the moment when I can feel my parent's deep pile hall carpet in Alzarin Crimson under my beach worn toes. I look back, and feel a lump in my throat as I see the faces of my friends I exchanged the most poignant goodbyes with earlier.

It's 5.30pm local time, which means I left Pattaya 5 hours ago, in a mini bus packed full of my worldly possessions, Bangkok bound. This also means that I am due in the bar within the next few minutes, to sip a Singapore Sling with my dad (a.k.a. Big Jeff), beat him at cards (again), and cheer myself up with a plate of fresh ravioli stuffed with spinach and ricotta, drizzled in a basil and green pesto dressing.

Our flight leaves tomorrow morning from Bangkok International Airport, so I shall endeavour to behave myself this time, and avoid suspicious behaviour around bins, unlike last time. I've over-stayed my visa and will have to pay extra, so I fully expect to be manhandled from the passport control queue, in fact I'd be horribly disappointed if I wasn't. :)