The gap year traveller

It’s strange to think that it has only been a year since I was nervously awaiting my A-level results. I don’t feel like I am the same person I was when I anxiously waved goodbye to my friends as they went off to university, hoping I had made the right decision to take a year out.

Although I probably would have been perfectly happy had I gone to university last year, I would have regretted not travelling at a point in my life where I didn’t have any serious commitments or financial restraints. The past year has shown me how important it is to take opportunities as they present themselves

I can easily see why gap years are becoming increasingly popular with students, universities and employers. Having experienced complete freedom at an early age, I have found out how much I value my independence and how much I need to open myself up to new experiences and concentrate on spending more time doing things I enjoy.

In a way, I don’t want this year to end, and it is tempting to take another year out. However, I now feel ready to go to university and I am looking forward to meeting new people and settling into life in halls. Whatever happens in the next few years, I will always have fond memories of cocktails on the beach and the friendly and accepting people I met on my gap year travels.

Wednesday, August 25

Back home, but not for long

Back in England, the novelty of being home lasted for a couple of days until everything started to become mundane and ugly in comparison to what I had left behind. I looked at the list I had made on my last day in Bangkok of all the things I had missed about home.

After a few hours, normal toilets, drinkable tap water and clean clothes ceased to be exciting. Once I had seen my family and friends and emptied my backpack, I had to come to terms with the fact that it was all over.

Having thoroughly enjoyed my first taste of the travelling lifestyle, I had to admit that I had got the bug. Even on the flight home, I had begun to plan future trips. My time away had not only shown me how much more of the world there was to see, but also proved how accessible it was. While I got back into the hard grind of employment, my mind was buzzing with the possibilities available to me during the last few months of my gap-year.

The fact that it was so easy to travel and that we got to know so many Thai people and European travellers was largely due to their fantastic grasp of the English language. Only being able to speak English and a few basic words of French, I was often left feeling completely ignorant. Inspired by this, I thought about starting Spanish lessons, which would give me the perfect excuse to go to South America for a couple of months to test my newly acquired language skills.

Although far-away shores were calling, I had to accept that it was getting to peak season and I had to save some money to go to university. Anyway, it doesn’t take a palm tree to make a place interesting. I started looking at the options slightly closer to home and settled on travelling around Eastern Europe with some friends who I had missed while they had been busy settling into their first year of university.

Once again, the backpack was filled and the passport sat awaiting a new destination.

Read Annika’s final travelog on Friday

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Monday, August 23

Easing back to real life

By the time we returned to Bangkok, one of my friends was ready to leave while the other was looking for any excuse to stay. I was still undecided. Although I was having a great time, several months of basic facilities, biting ants and the incessant heat had made me long for home.

We had stayed in fairly basic guesthouses for most of the trip and I had begun to crave privacy, clean clothes and, most of all, my bed. I had become bored of eating in restaurants and began dreaming of peas, potatoes and gravy.

The sheer abundance of food in Thailand had caused me to put on about a stone in four months and much to my annoyance, the Thai men enjoyed complimenting me on my large stomach, big thighs and small eyes. They also seemed to like the colour of my skin, which had lost its transparent quality and turned a sort of off-white. It seemed ridiculous that Westerners were sunning themselves on the beaches while the Thai women applied whitening cream and stayed in the shade.

It was soon our last day and I decided to get a Thai massage to take my mind off home. Although massages had varied throughout Thailand, I had always walked out feeling relaxed. However, on this occasion, it seemed that the masseuse was trying to inflict as much pain as possible by standing on my back and pulling my joints out of their sockets. Feeling bruised all over, I decided that I was happy to leave behind the experience of Thai massage for other unfortunate travellers to suffer.

One thing that I was desperate to take back with me was the laid back lifestyle I had become accustomed to. Unfortunately, I only managed to stick to my mantras of peace and inner clam until we reached the airport. There was no way I could continue my life of leisure back in England, where I would have to think about employment and organising myself for university.

During our wait at the departure lounge of Bangkok International Airport, I contemplated how easy it would be to get on a flight to Australia.

Knowing that I would regret my decision, but with a return ticket to London in my hand, I stepped onto the plane home, hoping that there would be many other opportunities in the future to travel to other parts of the world.

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Friday, August 20

From desert islands to rainforest adventures

Time had flown by and we were 60 days into our trip. We took the advice of other travellers to cross the Burmese border, so that we could remain in Thailand without having to organise a more permanent visa.

From the boarder, we were taken by boat to a rather dilapidated raft-house. There was a worn-looking sign hanging outside with ‘Immigration’ written on it. Our visas were stamped and we put one foot across the boarder before being deposited back on Thai soil. We now had official permission to stay for another month.

We then headed towards one of the less developed islands off the west coast of Thailand. I had been told that it resembled Koh Samui in the 1970s, before the effects of tourism. It seemed to be the closest we were going to get to a deserted island.

I stepped off the boat to find the only way to get to our bungalow was on the back of a motorbike, ridden by a worryingly young looking Thai girl. Trying to forget the two motorbike accidents I had previously been involved in, I climbed on, gritted my teeth and attempted to balance with my enormous backpack swaying precariously from side to side. Thankfully we made it there in one piece.

We spent a few days in tropical bliss, then decided to travel via Krabi and Koh Lanta to Koh Phi Phi, where the film ‘The Beach’ was shot. Many pretentious travellers had warned us not to visit the commercial resorts, deeming them too touristy. Thankfully, we ignored their advice and were rewarded with friendly people and idyllic beaches - the perfect setting for our last few days in the sun.

It seemed like no time at all before we had to head back to Bangkok. On the way we decided to stop at Khao Sok, one of Thailand’s largest protected areas, where we spent a few days canoeing through gorges, swimming in rivers and battling through the jungle in the style of Indiana Jones.

During the last night, a tropical storm set in - the first rain we had heard in months. When it finally stopped there were a few minutes of absolute silence that seemed to last forever. I sat in our jungle hut, surrounded by miles of trees, rivers and mountains, straining to hear anything other than the sound of my own breath.

It was time to get back to reality and the next morning we packed our backpacks for the last time in preparation for the journey back to Bangkok.

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Wednesday, August 18

Diving into beach parties

Finally we reached Koh Tao and I was surrounded by crystal clear waters and white, sandy beaches. It was the place I had been dreaming about throughout my exams and long days at work.

I was surprised by how cheap diving courses were in Thailand and excited by the prospect of exploring the reefs around the island. It wasn’t long before I was fully clad in a wetsuit and breathing apparatus and learning how to clear my respirator.

It took a while for me to get used to the idea of textbooks and homework on the diving course, but a couple of hours spent reading on the beach seemed a small price to pay when I was eventually allowed to jump off the dive boat. It was incredible swimming among sharks, turtles and rays - like entering another world.

Island life revolved around the diving centre. At the end of the day, everyone would pile off the dive boat, tired but exhilarated and sit on the beach with bottles of cold beer to watch the sunset. Evenings generally began with cocktails, music and dancing at a bar and ended at one of the beach clubs.

Although most people intended to stay only for the duration of their diving course, many were tempted into staying longer. By the time I had completed my advanced diving course, the approaching full moon was starting to affect the tides. This was a sign to get the ferry to Koh Pha-ngan for the full moon party.

From the pier, we got a ride on a pick-up truck to the beach. It was full of people dancing to music being blasted from every bar. Within no time my friends and I had lost most of the people we had arrived with and resorted to find them the following morning to recount the night’s events on the return ferry.

We had become part of a traveller community on Koh Tao and tearing ourselves away proved too difficult for one of my friends, who ended up staying for the rest of the trip. However, time was running out and with countless other places to visit, I ventured on with my other friend to discover some of the other islands.

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Monday, August 16

With its exotic scenery and French colonial history, Laos lived up to every expectation I had. The banks of the Mekong were trimmed with palm trees and framed by distant mountains. As I climbed off the boat onto the golden sand, I felt like I was stepping onto Treasure Island.

We would wake to sunlight streaming through the windows and the sound of cockerels. After a cold outside shower while being observed by inquisitive lizards, we spent the mornings in bakeries eating banana cake and sipping strong Laotian coffee. Afternoons were filled with visits to temples, caves and waterfalls and evenings were always devoted to vast meals followed by some bartering at the night market.

As much as I loved our lazy days in Laos, I couldn’t help missing Thailand. It’s strange how quickly a place starts to feel like home. I had only just got used to converting pounds into Thai bahts when I was handed a pile of Laotian kip, which seemed to change in value continuously.

I had begun to crave activity and nightlife and having seen some of the northern Thai culture, I was more than ready to head south again to the familiar sights and smells of Bangkok.

Although I had heard many bad reviews of the noise, heat and general chaos of the city, I grew to love it. Tall, modern buildings surround ancient temples and the Grand Palace stands as a proud reminder of the city’s history while traffic constantly buzzes around it.

We decided to explore the local nightlife. After a few hours drinking an alcoholic concoction containing Thai whisky, we headed for the Pat-Pong district, one of the more insalubrious areas of Bangkok.

The next morning, feeling slightly worse for wear, I made the mistake of ordering a full English breakfast. Unimpressed with the offerings of a piece of ham and a boiled egg, I swore never again to order Western food in an Asian country.

In desperate need of detoxification, we decided to leave Bangkok. Within ten hours we were boarding a boat to take us to the white sands of Koh Tao.

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Friday, August 13

One of the great things about travelling is that it introduces you to a diverse range of people of different ages and races. Even away from the main tourist areas, we were met with smiles, waves and embraces.

The Thai girls in Bangkok were as happy to guide us through the infamous nightlife of the Khao San Road as the lady in Nan was to invite us into her kitchen to cook us pad thai. The Thai people we met were immensely proud of their country and seemed eager to welcome us.

We met travellers of all nationalities along the way and spent evenings swapping stories and advice of where to go and what to do. I had imagined that there would be a lot of other gap year students in Thailand as it is an ideal destination for first-time travellers. However, most people we met had recently graduated or had left their jobs to travel and consider the possibility of a change of lifestyle.

I found myself mixing with people I would probably never have met, let alone socialised with, under any other circumstances. I remember sitting at a bar with a man who was contemplating the nature of reality, having recently returned from a commune in India. Next to him sat an ex-soldier who felt that he had experienced real life through his service in the first Gulf War. Needless to say, the conversation was interesting.

As a result of talking to people at different stages of their lives, I came to reflect on my own and found it difficult to come to terms with the fact that many people were trying to escape the lifestyle that I had envisaged for myself. I realised that it was more important to spend my time at university concentrating on finding out what I really enjoyed doing rather than use it to push myself into career that may not even suit me.

Through talking to travellers and locals we had heard many tales of the wonders of neighbouring Laos. Being so close to the border, we resolved to see some of the country for ourselves and set about organising visas. It was not long before we were clambering aboard a rather worn looking boat that was to take us along the Mekong to Luang Prabang.

Annika’s previous log is on page 6

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Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Months of exam pressure closely followed by an attempt to hold more jobs than physically possible made cramming everything in a backpack almost therapeutic. Deeming it slightly unnecessary to abandon all my home comforts, I ignored the advice I was given to travel lightly and filled my backpack to its capacity. It took about two weeks and the onset of chronic back pain before I realised how much I could live without.

Thankfully, I did listen to the advice I was given about travelling independently and opted to go with two friends instead of a tour group. By doing this, not only were we able to move about when and where we wanted, but I also gained a sense of freedom and achievement in doing so.

Flying into the centre of Bangkok was an amazing experience. I was not prepared for the culture shock I was to experience on my first trip outside of Europe. Feeling entirely confused by a combination of jet lag, new surroundings and oppressive humidity, we decided to venture north to Ayuthaya and Sukhothai and return to Bangkok at a later date, hopefully having picked up some of the Thai language.

Travelling by bus or train in Thailand is fantastically cheap and, provided you don’t try to understand the system or need to get anywhere at a particular time, it’s incredibly easy. Northern Thailand proved to be a dramatic contrast to the frantic pace of Bangkok. Huge Buddha images draped in saffron stood among ancient ruins, graciously posing for photographs whilst elephants lumbered through the streets and tuk-tuks rattled past. It occurred to me that I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt utterly free and completely safe.

I arrived in Chiang Mai feeling revitalised although perhaps having seen one too many temples. A month into our travels and Thailand was beginning to feel like home. Everything was running far too smoothly, until one morning over noodle soup and ginger tea I spotted a headline announcing the chicken flu epidemic. After a few days of eating tofu and scanning newspapers, we concluded that chickens were impossible to avoid in Thailand. Instead, we concentrated our efforts on elephant trekking, bamboo rafting and a Thai cooking course, which proved to be more than enough to take anyone’s mind of anything.

Read Annika’s previous entry on page 7

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Monday, August 9, 2004

When I filled in my Ucas form I was still not entirely convinced that taking a gap-year was a good idea. I felt pressurised into going straight to university, but I also thought that the opportunity to travel and get a taste of the world was too good to turn down. After some agonising, I decided to take the time to enjoy one last debt-free year in the sun.

I was keen to prove that I was different from the stereotypical gap-year student. I wasn’t a drop-out with poor grades, revelling in the idea of sitting on the sofa for a year.

Nor did I intend to return dressed in muslin having “found myself” in the Himalayas. I wanted to earn the money for a ticket to Thailand and see how far I could go on a tight budget and without the luxury of home comforts.

Of course I had initial doubts as to whether I had made the right decision. However, I was offered a place to study Law at Nottingham University with deferred entry and concluded that if they were happy to wait for me while I drifted down the Mekong and drank cocktails on the beach, who was I to argue?

By January I had survived six months of employment, five courses of immunisations and one dreary English winter, and finally found myself waiting in the departure lounge at Heathrow with one of my friends, the other having lost her passport.

Somehow the three of us arrived in Bangkok together and headed straight into town. A couple of hours and a few tequila sunrises later and I was having my aura cleansed in the hotel lobby.

So began four months of new people, places and experiences that I now look back on with no regrets whatsoever.