Sean and I had decided to move straight onto teaching our own classes, three each. I began with the Class Three mixed with Four. I didn’t actually want Class Three (they were clearly going to be trouble), I wanted Four, Five and Six… but we had to compromise. I lost my favourites – Five, in exchange for not having One or Two. Fair deal.

Not wanting to overload them immediately with the difference between teeth and tusks, or how many tails a giraffe might have, challenges for a more ambitious day, I thought we’d do something on the field. In the spirit of escape and espionage, we would start with evasive actions.

I am running!!

I am jumping!!

I began with relevant acting to explain the point. They would then all follow me shouting it out as they did so. “Line up, two lines” I commanded in Thai. Splitting automatically into boys and girls, they obeyed. If I said ‘Jump’, the front two would each jump to a target while shouting out ‘I am jumping!’. Run, the same. Moved swiftly onto hopping and cart wheeling. Shortly we were able to mix it up enough to have something of a competition, which they seemed to relish. The boys won.

After a while of that, we moved onto playing ‘Duck, duck, goose’ (an odd game, explained in some detail here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duck,_duck,_goose. They were clearly well briefed on the rules ). Instead of duck and goose though, we would say ‘walking, walking, walking… HOPPING!!’. And vary which actions were required to make it around the circle.

Afterwards, we sat and rested, having an informal chat on the field. I’d ask names, ages, what things were, their favourite foods etc. Which was a really nice way of warming down and bonding together, and for the most part they were quite engaged in the discussion! We walked back towards the school (“I am walking, I am walking…”), where Sean was finishing off with his ordeal of One and Two. We sat on the wall, and I started teaching them a song. They weren’t best impressed however (didn’t blame them really), and so I retorted ‘Fine, teach me a song’.

And in unison, as they were all sat on a wall around me, they broke into song! No silly nursery rhyme, but a song I think from The Sound of Music. (I’ve not seen the film so I wasn’t sure). It was so cute and unexpected, and such a great end to the lesson. Sadly no video of them, but a photo which still didn’t quite capture it: !!

The Sixes were just as co-operative, and excelled at their English, hopping and somersaulting abilities, though lacked quite the same degree of cuteness.

As that was all of our classes over for the day, the afternoon was free. Our director offered to take us to a ‘nearby’ town / village to eat at KFC. One hour later, we arrived. And three meals were ordered. After ten minutes, out came out one portion of chips (btw no-one else was there). Then after five more minutes, two of the drinks arrived. More minutes later a burger and some nuggets arrive. Then another drink. More chips. Etc etc. It was truly bizarre. Afterwards though, we recovered with a shop at Tescos!! Again not quite the same English experience (no ‘Tesco Basics’ or ‘Taste the Difference’), but still familiar enough :)

Afterwards we went to visit our directors nephew, or cousin, or some relative, at where he worked. We didn’t really know who he was, and neither did our director it seemed. Still he offered to translate our questions, so that we could converse with his relative. Sean and I looked at each other, confused, but struggled through some questions of what it was that he does. We still have no idea. It was a strange, surreal meeting. Maybe you had to be there though. But, just in case it wasn’t strange enough, we all travelled to a local primary school. I’m don’t think anyone knew this school or that we were invited… but we sang a song and took photos with them all. The surrealness was quite intense now.Mercifully we were whisked back to the school. I enjoyed a meal with a new found friend and Sean hung out with the teachers. An early night was blessed. Once again, I found myself like a little kid at Christmas night; head buzzing from the experiences of the day, and eager to get back and play with my new found joy of teaching.

Goooood Morrrrrniiiing Claaass One. My-Name-Is-Teacher-Tom!!

Began our intricately, and rather ingeniously devised lesson plan. We would just wait for the replied chant of “Good morning Teacher Tom and Teacher Sean”, then embark upon learning how to describe objects using all of our senses. “The flower smells nice”, “This chilli is very hot”, etc etc.

The reply didn’t quite come. They seemed rather fixated on things on their desks. Comic books, or often, random unimpressive scribbles of pieces of paper that I  guessed must be drawings. Which weren’t good. It was the sort of standard of work that you might expect to find in the Tate Modern, but never to be proudly hung up on a kitchen fridge.

Our lesson plan would need an immediate revision.

Class One, Stand UP!!

I spoke boldly and signalling up with my hands at the same time. For the most part they joined in. I smiled for a moment. They looked intently.

Class One, Sit DOWN!!

I spoke again, signalling with my hands. After repeating this a couple of times, we tried to catch them out, “Stand Up” I’d say, signalling with my hand to sit down. Some were caught out, others just about caught on, but most laughed. We were having fun!

Our director came in and suggested that we take them outside to learn about some of the animals in their farm. First of all we went to the lion. We crowded around the animal, enclosing it in a circle, some kids sitting on it (it was only little, and probably worth mentioning, not real).

This is a lion! This is a LION!!! THIS IS A LION!!!! this is a lion…

We would shout and whisper, getting them to shout and whisper it back. As clearly encountering a real lion in the wild would require either shouting, or whispering this fact to any one around. And I guessed it would help with pronunciation and confidence. And survival.

This lion has FOUR LEGS!! This lion has SHARP TEETH!!

We would chant in a variety of silly voices, and they would mimic back. All essential information again to convey to the emergency services if encountered by such a beast in the wild. This would be repeated with other animals, (tigers, pandas, and, quite horrifically, bronchasauruses), and with other classes. If they seemed to be going with it well, started making it more interesting…

What colour is the panda?

The panda is white with black stripes!

The majority of the oldest class replied rather impressively.

The first day of teaching, overall, was an exhilarating and tiring day. It was spent as mentioned, mainly with animals of the jungle and late Jurassic periods, again essential survival stuff, and gave a great building block on which to base our next few lessons.

For the evening, a small party had been prepared, where we were able to get to know some of the teachers better, and the food on offer in the village. Several interesting dishes had been presented, which we would get to know very well over the coming weeks. The ones to stand out particularly vivid are ‘Bone Chicken’ and ‘Papaya Salad’. The salad, made of that strange, tasteless fruit (the one the kids had prepared for us a few days previously for us to try), had now taken on a quite a different taste. Firstly, it is much spicier than chillies, which I didn’t really think possible for a fruit. And very bizarrely, it has a seafoody taste. And after being put off seafood for life, by the jumping shrimps in noodles, the dish all in all was, uniquely disgusting. One that everyone but me and Sean seemed to be happily tucking into. And Bone Chicken is as it sounds – chicken bone on a stick - “Lots of calcium”. Apparently.

Fortunately there was plenty of very edible and enjoyable food to enjoy, and this was all back-dropped by the sounds of Thai and English sung karaoke. Never having done karaoke in front of other people before, this was ten-fold more nerve racking then any teaching I had done earlier, or really anything I’ve done in quite a while. Still, I sang with a lyrical elegance approaching that of the local chickens at 5:00 that morning, some Beatles songs I’d never heard before; but was clearly a hit amongst the teachers.

Later on, we returned to the final night of the charity festival being held in the village, taken this time by the teachers. We enjoyed more food, met with more local people in the community, played the fairground games... where I won a monkey!!! I say ‘I’, what I mean is that I told one of the teachers and another girl that I wanted the monkey, and they said no problem… which it evidently was after five attempts, but persistence and a steady trickle of money paid off. Afterwards, Sean enjoyed a match of Thai boxing, whilst I got dancing lessons from one of the teachers and one of her friends. (Though to be honest I think there’s as much hope as teaching me to sing).

Once again we returned to bed drained, but invigorated, and eager for the next day of teaching!

Heads hurting, we rose fairly early to take in another beautiful day. Our plan for our first Saturday was to take the hours drive, and travel back into the town of ChiangRai. The arranged collection time was just before midday, in order to give us some shopping time.

(n.b. I don’t really have any photos from this time as my camera was broken)

However, time passed, and we started to wonder where our director might be… In the meantime, a couple of kids from year 6 were lingering around on the school grounds and asked if we wanted to play kickball with them; we said ‘OK’. They took us over to where the pitch is, which is also next to one of the teachers houses. The teacher in question, just so happened to be hanging around aswell, and upon seeing us, grabbed us. “We’re going to play kickball.” we protested. “No, no, teacher time.” he explained.

We were sat down outside his house and another one of the teachers joined us. Glass after glass of whisky was poured. A whole variety of fruits and nuts were offered. Sitting out in the hot sun, as much food and drink as we liked (though by no means as little as we liked, there was a minimum consumption requirement), we had no complaints that we were late getting into the nearby town!

Eventually, five hours later we made it into the town. We check into our hotel at £2 a night. We ate at a restaurant, though I’m not sure what I ate (this was due to being unable to read Thai, not due to the whisky), but I think it was frog! We found a western pub, which the other volunteers had recommended us. I started talking with an English guy inside; after a few minutes we discover that we’ve come from the same village, an hour away. He asks where in England I’m from, “Bournemouth”. He looks quizzically. “Where in Bournemouth?”, “Talbot Woods”. And we find that we live a five minute walk from each other in Thailand and England!

We drink more beer, I play on the keyboard with the band which was in there (much to their frustration after a few minutes). We went for a massage at the place opposite (don’t).

By this time it’s late, and sensibly Sean heads back to the hotel. Less sensibly, I head to a club with my newly found friend from England. The club is kindda bizarre, there isn’t a dance floor as such, there’s just tables everywhere. So we don’t stay for too long. I head outside, and all of a sudden, I can’t find John. Fair enough I thought, I can find my way back. After an hour of walking I knew I was wrong. I can’t find a tuktuk or anyone who can speak English. I phone back to England, “Annie I’m lost. Can you find me on Google maps?”. Several minutes of searching back in England, and fighting off the onset of exasperated tears, Annie comes back with the answer. ”No”. Another forty minutes of walking and I eventually find a club that was open, and I get a tuktuk back. Finally, exhausted.

Waking up bright and early (midday), my head hurt. A lot. We had to get up early as we were meeting our director shortly. We go for some breakfast at a random place, again coincidentally, it was where John was staying. The three of us go off in the car firstly to see some ostriches, the majestical, native Thai bird.

Imagine, if you have not before seen such an animal. They stand at a horrific eight foot high or so. Naked, scrawny legs and necks. A stare with such intensity to intimidate the hardiest or predators. An enormous rubbery looking body covered in dirty black and white feathers. They balance and bound around with a sense that they are defying one of Newton's laws. They are to put it simply, possibly the ugliest animal I’ve ever seen. And for £2 you can ride on this prehistoric mistake, where intelligent design just went wrong. It was a very odd experience.

Three ostriches are there running around a pen. After paying your fee, the pen-keepers try and sneak up behind one of these things, with a long pole that has a hook on the end. They then try and hook this around the animals neck such that they can pull its head with the pole. Finally, a hood is placed on the ostriches' head so that it can’t see anything. Sounds simple I know, but the process can take many attempts, depending on how co-operative the flightless fowl is feeling. And aswell as being ugly, you might have guessed, they are unsurprisingly unfriendly. Eventually, with hood on, it stands very still.

They then got some ladders for Sean to walk up on, and sit on this ostriches back. He looked hung-over and scared. I knew exactly how he felt. They kept saying hold onto their wings and keep your legs in tight. They took it’s hood off… The ostrich literally went from under Sean as it made every effort to rid itself of it’s unwanted passenger!! It was a very funny sight. But increased my fear ten-fold. I climbed onto it’s rubbery feathery back, and gripped for my life, feeling slightly giddy. Off came it’s hood, and off it shot. The energy and focus to stay on it’s back as it bounded around with the others was tremendous. But we couldn’t stop laughing; out of fear, and the oddness of the situation. Eventually, I had to slip off it’s back, as it is far from a comfortable experience. I was shaking all over and could hardly stand up, still laughing uncontrollably. Starving, we got our reward and ate the animal. As you might have guessed, not the best meat. All in all though, hilarious!

Next we went to a temple that is currently being constructed, but huge amounts has already been built - Wat Rong Khun.  It is staggering. I’m guessing taken straight from a Disney Pixar film, it’s one of the most remarkable things I’ve seen. It’s a series of blinding white palaces, and elaborate walk ways between them. The first walkway is lined with hands coming out of an interpretation of hell. It is a strikingly gruesome effect. Inside the first hall, the usual paintings of a Budda cover the wall, but with distinctly western additions. Flying, crawling, and spinning webs, are Spiderman, Superman, iPhones and many other images you would never expect to see within a temple. The place is an exquisite attention to detail, and the whole project wont be complete for many tens of years.

Finally, we get back up to the school where we spent some time planning our lessons for the following day. We wondered off to the festival that we went to two days previously and got some dinner. Then at last, a hugely welcomed bed greeted us!

Surprisingly, I sleep really well. Surprisingly, because the bed is nothing more than a piece of ply-board, and dogs and chickens bark all night. But then I had had a tremendous lack of sleep and generous amount of whisky the night before. I’m eventually awoken by a deafening blare of music at 7:00 from a car with a massive PA system strapped to the roof, driving down the road (I’m told this after having awoken). I’d soon be learning the unique orchestra of the village, which involved many more players, I’m also told.

I greet the others and meet with some of the kids on the field. The volunteers are now saying their goodbyes to the teachers, and soon the children. It is an incredibly emotional scene. Tears from everyone, volunteers and students (though only about one boy). The headmaster also holds back his tears, and relished the opportunity to ‘take pictures of crying children’. Some are quite literally distraught. It seems amazing the bond that they had.

We drive away, leaving the teary scene, so that the others can get to their bus station. We stop off at an all you can eat buffet along the way. Mountains of everything. (Which Japanese and Thai food). All for £3!

Very happy and replete, the others are soon annoyed as they’ve missed the bus. So we head into the centre of Chiang Rai for an hour. This is the first opportunity that I’ve actually seen the centre of a city in Thailand since arriving… up until now has been drives through suburbs. And it’s not quite as I expect. Definitely the feeling of business, without many of the people to fill that feeling, and an odd misplacement of architecture and history. A magnificent temple and golden roundabout are particularly bizarre additions into this otherwise higgledy-piggledy city.

As soon as we drop off the other volunteers, we meet with my new house/ volunteer mate, Sean. We take the hours drive back up to the village and arrive late evening, time for the director to return back home. Together alone, and slightly unsure of what to do, we head for a walk into the village. Greeting more people along the way, we’re soon asked where we’re going. “Food” we say. And they respond, “Ah, food upstairs!”.  Unsure, as this was clearly no restaurant, we head upstairs. Sure enough, their family is sat around a bowl of… something. Whatever it was, was being cut up on the floor next to us. We chat (sort of), we try to learn each others languages and customs. And we drink more whisky; this time home-made.

Not really satisfied from the funny buffalo / cow / zebu curry thing, and vegetable that everyone was picking at with dirty fingernails, we insist we must go elsewhere. We manage to get all the way to their neighbours where fortunately they have beer instead, but still no food which is really edible. We soon get spotted and dragged back into the first house. Food was clearly off the menu for tonight.

A few of them kept going on about somewhere to dance. After several whiskeys, that was definitely a good idea. But as to where in this small village, we were very confused. The question was soon answered as we we led into a small festival, tucked into the depths of the village. The walk into the place was one of the most surreal scenes either of us had experienced. Here we were truely like rock-stars; everyone stared at us, people literally stopped in their steps. Not all were fans though, especially the guys, who would return more of a glare. A wave at a group of girls would start them screaming and giggling.

In general however, an amazingly buzzy crowd of all ages swarmed the field in which it lied. A group of about 5 – 25 of us grabbed a table and some beers (the group size fluctuated with the amount of  beer on the table), and took in the amazing atmosphere. Kids from the school kept coming up to us, saying hello, wondering what we’re up to. We dance on the main stage, drunkly, in front of this new home, our students, and their parents. Fun, yes. Embarrassing, definitely.

Finally, I’m driven back home on a moped; somewhat petrifying but an exhilarating end to another incredible day!

After the hour long journey in the car, I step onto the school grounds. Immediately ahead is part of the school, two stories, with one long front balcony overlooking the playing fields. Further ahead, is another similar building, the other half of the school,  in line with it. The school grounds are expansive and well looked after, with a rich scenery of trees, plants, and a cow. This school is not at all out of place in the beautiful surrounding countryside through which we’ve just driven. 

Still, I’ve not had any sleep, and I’m exhausted; but within seconds I’m bombarded from all sides… Kids are screaming and shouting out the windows and around me, “Teacher teacher, what’s your name?”, “Teacher, how old are you?”.

I walk to the front of the school and kids come flooding over, “Teacher Tom!!” , “Teacher Tom!!” !! “What’s your favourite colour?!” , “Where are you from Teacher Tom?!”.

It is really really amazing. I’ve never known such a thing. So much excitement, and genuine enthusiasm, all because of someone else arriving!! It is utterly overwhelming.

However, I’m still exhausted. I really really need sleep first before trying to take in this scene. So I’m then taken to see the house that I’ll be staying in… Right on the school grounds, it’s no distance to lessons in the morning.

I have been told previously that this house was built in a week. Sleeps four, kitchen and bathroom, all in a week. It is basic, but you wouldn’t want anything more; it adds to the fantastic immersion within this culture.

I don’t really sleep, but can at least get a shower. I go to meet the other volunteers who will be leaving the next day. They are a really fantastic group who have bonded so well and are also so welcoming.

Nearby, we’re told by someone, is a small lake where fish are caught for our dinner. We get on the back of their pick-up truck and drive somewhere close by. This ‘small lake’, is a nothing more than a puddle in the middle of some back garden. For some reason they seem to think there might be fish in this dirty water. None come out.

We head back into the centre of the village to get some lunch; a really fantastic dish of something, with a really great soup, in fact one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten, for 25p.

Returning to the school, and back outside, the children surround me again, and start telling me all sorts of things with so much excitement… I’m soon dragged off to the kitchen, where out the back I find one of the girls climbing up a tree, onto the roof in order to get a popiya off a tree… (I later asked about the health and safety of such things, to which I was told anything goes; do what you like). They sit me down and start peeling and clumsily cutting up this fruit with an enormous knife.  Several of us all sit down at the table to share in this freshly prepared fruit, something you would pay several pounds for in a Tesco. It’s disgusting. I’m hastily taught “I’m full” in Thai, by two of the other volunteers sharing in this culinary disaster. I’m taken by the children upstairs and shown into their classrooms. Around the balcony area the boys start saying, “Teacher Tom, four o’clock, football!”, and the girls say “Noooooo, Teacher Tom, four o’clock volleyball!!”. I eventually agree to the more persuasive group, volleyball.

Soon, somewhere within the daze of the day, I’m playing some sort of other sport, and then volleyball, and then another sport, handball.  The others are so eager to teach and help you, even after I fail to really contribute positively to the team I’m on. No annoyance from them at all.

After sports is general bonding with this kids, messing about and playing with them on the field. I chase them around, and ask them questions, and they chase me around and ask me questions. 

They soon leave, and I’m left feeling strangely energised. So I decide to go for a run. I go a short way along the road to where there are fields either side. I Wai (how you greet people in Thailand) some farmers in a field, and they shout to me “Here, here, Whisky!”. I join them briefly, a short way into the field. But declining the whisky on grounds of exercise, I instead get given some water. They cannot speak anymore English, but are excited by the fact that I have joined them.

As I continue to run further down the road, people continuously shout “Hello!”, hanging off the backs of bikes and lorries. It is yet another quite overwhelming experience.

I get back, as it is getting dark now, and the others volunteers tell me that we’re off to a party at one of the teachers houses. We get driven there in another teachers car, a place somewhere in the village…  Everyone is sat outside in front of the house, with a lot of food prepared; huge shrimps, cockles, some huge pan in the middle with a fire beneath, which is slowly cooking beef in the middle surrounded by some sort of soup, and some other dishes that I can’t recognise! Much whiskey is poured out, four bottles between seven people in fact. Many songs are played by hitting glasses, plates or anything else with chopsticks or anything else. A guitar and some other instrument is also being played (sort of). Either way, the atmosphere is fantastic! The host of the party, Jim, shows us into his houses. He then starts making emotional heart felt speeches in a drunken, broken English. A very odd, strangely beautiful combination.

Towards the end, I’m offered to try another dish. I ask what it is. No answer; just try. I pick up a mouthful with some chopsticks. It looks like some sort of vegetable thing. Just before it reaches my mouth I stop… it looks kind of hairy. Another volunteer next to me has just tried some, told me it’s horrible, and to have much less than what I’ve just picked up. I continue to stare at it. I can now see eyes… they’re baby shrimp… Looking very unappetising, I agree a smaller amount is a much better idea. I put them back into the packet… but one of them falls to rest in a slightly unnatural way… as if it were still… and then it jumps!! They were all still alive!!!

However, this disturbance merely added to the rich colour that this incredible day had enveloped me in. We soon return home in the back of a pick-up car, no longer tired, but invigorated!

Without a doubt, at the end of the day, which seemed to just go on and on and on, I can easily say that this has been one of the most incredible days of my life.

The heat is overwhelming. The tiredness is unbearable. The hunger is stabbing. Being tall, I had very little leg space on the 11 hour flight, and the gentleman next to me, being very large, I had very little arm space as well.  But I’ve arrived, in just about in one piece.   

As I look out into the airport, despite my early resentments, my jaw drops. The architecture is incredible. An intricate design of curved steel work lines the massive panes of glass that look out onto the runways. Further on, a sprawling system of escalators and travellators provides an easy journey for all those exhausted from their flights. However, my enthusiasm for the place is soon quelled. We wait 40 minutes for passport and visa checks. I’m asked for my address at which I’d be staying that evening. I can only offer them an email address!

Soon enough though, I make it through, meeting with my transport. Passing yet further elaborate designs of taxi ranks and car parks, I soon find myself racing through the outskirts of Bangkok in a local cab.

As we negotiate the bizarrely complicated motorway system, constructed often of three lanes that rise grandly above the further roads below, the distance I can see the impressive skyline of a city that caters for the millions. Several skyscrapers protrude into the tired yellowing sky. More local roads house beautiful looking restaurants, Tesco Lotus’ and KFCs. An incredible feeling of high spirited energy seems to plague the millions of drivers who gridlock these roads. It is worth noting quite how relaxed the drivers are here. Drivers are quite happy to use their phone without needing to look at the road. Emergency breaking is one of the many manoeuvres that they utilise consistently; all without the use of any car horns!

White knuckled, I arrive 2 hours later at the organisers house to meet her husband, Dennis. Food is bought hastily for me, as Dennis and I discuss politics and philosophy; sadly no cure for sleep deprivation. The house is located just outside greater Bangkok and provided a relaxing stop-over for me to gather myself. 

That is despite another member of the course bursting in drunk when I was asleep in bed, telling me how awful the program is and that I was not going to enjoy any of it. He was hastily removed from the house and possibly the country. I’m not sure.

All in all, it had been an interesting start. I was apprehensive, and slightly scared. But I was keeping an open mind, and was excited.

The next morning I’m alone in the house, except for the housekeeper. I sit waiting for the arrival of someone. Still apprehensive. Still scared. Eventually, after maybe two hours, volunteers arrive with the course organiser, Suvanna. Slowly I’m made to feel very welcome. The others tell me of their placement in the north of Thailand. It sounds amazing. Beautiful. Too good to be true. And then, after a slight envy was growing inside me, I find that this is the placement that I will be going to.

Later on, we’re taken to the bus terminal from where we will make the 11 hour bus journey. Hardly recovered from the previous 11 hour journey, this isn’t the most attractive offer, but one of the volunteers continues to tell me of the incredible time that him, and five other volunteers had over the previous several weeks.

Apart from the incredible tales of all expense paid weekends, fun filled evenings, and hilarious teaching weekdays, which I wont mention here, as I’m sure I’ll be writing about them soon enough, the journey was uneventful travelling through the night. I arrive, once again not having had any sleep, to meet the director of the school. Feeling dazed and exhausted, I struggle to make much coherent conversation. But I can at least take in the local area. We’ve arrived in the outskirts of Chiang Rai, right at the north of Thailand. It is stunning.

Those that know, know well, that I have a tendency to leave things to the last minute. Such as applying for a visa one working day before going to the country, when the website explicitly states two working days are required.

So my first challenge was to get to the Thai Embassy and beg them to process my visa faster… After trekking for 20 minutes from a tube station, with my back-breaking bag, I realised I in fact needed the Thai Consulate. Another lengthy backbreaking walk,  I arrived, and they were happy for a Monday morning collection. Phew.

The other reason for arriving in London early, and in fact, the reason for the timing of this whole trip overseas, was to see the greatest band of all time, Muse. Excitement had been suppressed up until this point due to PGCE interviews, organising (yes I managed some), and panicking. But now everything was together, we had time to relax and unwind. After meeting with Annie and Matt, we made our  way to the courthouse converted hostel… The place was enormous, and the bedrooms were tiny. Similar to accommodation for bees, sleep was a luxury not to be found here.

However, we arrived at the high-spirited O2 arena, full of energy and excitement, and were not disappointed. As ever from Muse, the show was nothing short of spectacular. Light shows, stunning video footage, and incredible sound, meant that being right at the very top was still an incredible experience. 

The final hours in England were kept busy meeting with friends, last minute organisation, and panic at what I was about to do…

It was finally starting to dawn on me where it was that I had planned to travel. A slight fear was starting to sweep across me… I was going to teach at a school in Thailand where no-body speaks English… What if the kids don’t like me? What if I didn’t enjoy the local area or the immersion into a new culture?

The answers to these questions were soon to hit me, like nothing before. 

View Full Album

A train lies sleeplessly along the side of a restless platform. A low hum resonates methodically from the heart of the animal; a beat to the distant song of early morning traffic and impatient owners.

A hungry crowd is gathering at the platform on which I sit. They stand motionless, soundless, glaring distastefully at the beast. However, despite the apparent lifelessness of the crowd, an anticipation can be felt. I glance at the train departure times, feeling a different type of anticipation, and read the message:

“Stand away from the platform. This train is not scheduled to stop here.”

But it has stopped, resting, waiting. And this crowd, this babble of business ambassadors with expensive tailored hair, and cheap hastily trimmed suits, seem to realise something that the normally polite and perceptive sign programmer has apparently overlooked.

It could be that the train who lies in this sanctuary of medieval decor, is preparing itself for a long, newly trodden journey. It seems to gaze docily at the agitated crowd, and peers peacefully out of this final home; Bournemouth.

I should feel a deep sense of loss, a deep desire not to be torn away from here, ‘toms home town’. I reflect, staring out to the newly constructed landscape which has been menacingly placed into the little cities skyline; a vast castle of cloud, textured and coloured with a garish concrete grey. It stares mockingly at those in its shadow, whilst an engulfing moat of rain and barrage of arrow like wind, has kept this vast over-sized village beneath it at its mercy for the last few weeks.

But it is not this medieval monster which has quelled any emotional ties to this  town; why tiptoes of tears elude my beautiful blues… No, it is simply that I cannot yet comprehend the countless days of coercive adventure awaiting only a weekend away. This is a place that I will miss, months without friends and family. But right now, this reality is not a realisation, indeed still just an imagination.

And so on the platform, this tired, early rising twin, tom and transport, finish their brief reflections and goodbyes to the town, and leave for London and the other side of the world.