A new adventure

Shweinhmyaw Pagoda, Hpa Ann, Myanmar

In June 2016, I watched London's iconic skyline fade beneath the clouds on a plane bound for Kuala Lumpur. After seven years in London, I felt it was time for a new adventure. Twenty hours and four blast chilled meals later, the plane descended into the clouds and over another urban skyline.

The first few days were sedative and restless all at once, a blur of humidity, highways and thunderstorms watched from hotel balconies. Kuala Lumpur is one of the fastest growing metropolises in Southeast Asia, a maze of skyscrapers and a veritable banquet room of Asian cuisine, a city where getting lost is an inevitable part of its discovery.

Four days later, I flew to the Philippines, where I was lucky enough to be joined by some travel companions who had flown in from London and Australia. With over 7,000 islands to choose from, we were not short of options, but Guimaras Island, world famous for its nectarous mangos, proved to be a good place to start.

Cameron Highlands, Malaysia

Most of the days in the Philippines were spent in or around the sea, snorkelling with majestic turtles in Apo Island or exploring the great karsts and lagoons of the Bacuit archipelago, snorkelling beside clouds of tropical fish and underwater cliffs of coral.

In Malaysia, days passed wandering the streets of Melaka, discovering hidden Buddhist libraries, seeking out food courts and stalls in Georgetown, Penang, eating endless roti canai. In Pulau Kapas, time glided by, the gentle curling waves a quiet metronome lapping the shore.

Durian stall, Singapore

After a few days in Singapore, I landed in the organised chaos of Hanoi, and begun an adventure in a country I knew from the outset would steal my heart, but there was something about the north in particular. Perhaps it was the verdant rolling hills of Sapa, the thrill of winding round the rugged mountain roads of Ha Giang on the back of a motorbike, or the joy of exploring the labyrinthian streets of Hanoi. Whatever it was, my melancholy at leaving was somewhat appeased by a sense that it wouldn't be the last time I was there (spoiler alert, it wasn't).

Crossing the border into Cambodia, onto a new adventure, and to meet a much missed travel kindred spirit. Days passed lazily in sleepy Kampot, before heading north to gaze up at the iconic Angkor temple complex through a curtain of tropical September downpours.

Lan Ha Bay, Vietnam

Passing briefly through Thailand's chaotic capital, we made our way to Myanmar. For three wonderful weeks we hiked mountains, slept overnight in monasteries, took part in a traditional matchmaking dance festival, crossed the highest bridge in Myanmar, and fell deeply in love with this magical, unique country.

Monasteries and mountains aside, my time at Chill Out House on the beautiful Thai island of Koh Lanta will probably be my most treasured memory of my time away. The energy of this little treehouse tucked away behind Long Beach was like nothing I've ever experienced, which may explain why an overwhelmingly significant proportion of guests stay much longer than anticipated. Guests turn into staff, days turn into weeks, casual chats on a swing at the bar turn into lifelong friendships. I am coming away from this little slice of paradise with a heavy heart, but also a refreshed outlook on life, love and travel, and an immense gratitude that I was able to call this place home, even for a short while.

Travel is, by it's very nature, transformative to some extent. Time becomes truly fluid. Days pass languorously, weeks fold into one another, while a month passes in what feels retrospectively like a blink of an eye. Half a year feels simultaneously like a minute and a millennium.

Six months, seven countries, two new tattoos later, the adventure continues.

TBC.