Travel as Metaphor

The blog of novelist Sue Swift.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Toward the end of the Oxford sojourn I have definitely had enough of the hostel. A bunch of clowns were yelling in German, playing a card game, really thumping down their cards noisily...one chick with them has an exaggerated sneeze and I wonder what weird germs she's spewing all over the hostel's common room. It's after 11 on a weeknight and people are still watching TV, partying on the street...fun town. There's a queue of people in front of a club. Rain streaks the windows.

Tuesday: I wake up in a good mood despite the stuffiness and smelliness of the room...after I went to bed no one opened a window and the place stinks of old food, which I noticed when I got up to pee at 6 a.m.

I read my emails, or tried to. One of my mailboxes is down, my usually reliable att.net. I phoned my brother, Colin, who's in Thailand and because of my dental issues I am definitely going to go there.

Back in Londontown: In Stumbling Toward Happiness by Daniel Gilbert, I read that our imaginations are bad at envisioning what will make us happy, and the joy/sorrow others take in stimuli is a better predictor. As I sit on the 82 bus up Finchley Road on the way to see family, I don't see many smiles.

If I am to leave the UK soon--early November, probably-- I had better see what I want to see.

Thursday: An amazing and beautiful day. Instead of burying myself in the library to do promo, I instead walk through Regents Park toward Euston Square, where the Eva Air office is. I stopped in by chance at a travel agent who gives me a better deal on an upgraded ticket to Thailand than I had found on the internet. I research getting my visa...it's all set.

I'm going to Thailand on November 8.

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