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Well, this is it. The end is nigh. No more wanderings. In fact, the end has come and gone as I’m now back in good Ol’ Blighty, a hefty £5200 lighter (and that’s not including pre-trip and flight costs), where the only noticeable difference is the badgers that visit our garden have had a baby, and our bathroom is now painted white. Joy. Tony Blair is still in power, Mum is still watching Emmerdale five nights a week, and ‘going for a curry’ and wearing a hoodie is still all the rage amongst the teenage population. Indeed, sitting at the same computer that I wrote my first blog on, it sometimes feels like I haven’t actually gone anywhere, as, like Will predicted, it’s gone by shockingly quickly. But then I turn round and see all the postcards I’ve sent to my folks, messily arrange like a rugby scrum on the mantelpiece - at least one for each of the 16 countries - and it all comes flooding back.

From Arabian Nights to British Pub Nights

Simon Wadsworth
2007-08-24 13:28:47

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in the meantime, besides non-stop listening to music (all who know me, will understand my struggles since my mp3 player broke - oh how I've missed my music), I'm enjoying and appreciating luxuries I never thought I'd miss (at least for the first month anyway, before they become the norm once more): cheese, flat roads, restaurants and bars where the CDs don't skip, drinking water from a tap, carpets, cocopops and Apple tango, sofas and feather pillows, a daily routine, knowing where my next bed will be, having more than five tops to choose from, a DVD, the BBC, AC/DC, as well as not having to feel guilty anymore about wanting to relax, when, being so lucky to be in these places, I should be out exploring.

Now I have the fantastic task of paying it all back, and beginning work, on my birthday of all days. At least Waitrose will hopefully be giving me some dosh. And living with Caroline in a lovely part of London known as Twickenham I'm looking forward to the future! Weee...

I've also gained some random new skills - none of this fancy language business, or learning how to survive in a jungle, but developing a sixth sense of knowing when someone from behind is approaching you with a sales pitch, and an ability to cross a busy road by the simple Matrix-like manoeuvre of extending my outstretched arm and hand at the passing cars, as if to say "nope, it's my turn matey!" - especially useful in Saigon. I'll never complain about the British weather, or Glastonbury toilets again. I'll stop sulking about public transport (besides our trains, naturally), and be grateful for healthy tap water, and I'll start donating to the Cambodian landmine refugees fund. This trip has really opened my eyes. Anyways, enough of this dull reflective banter - let's talk about the wonder that was Zanzibar!

It was an awesome final week and much of this awesomeness comes from the fact that I hardly did anything worth writing about, unless you want to hear ...