The Lamentation of a Wannabe Traveller

It is actually a very serious consideration to stop travelling. Planning for a trip is too exhausting a process and not to see it happening is just unaccountable in its waste and frustration. Two problems I have identified; the lack of independence to travel alone and the shallow pool of potential travel buddies.

My parents are generally happy to let me go anywhere in the four corners of the world but not without its precondition: That I must have a known travel buddy. Figuring out a new place on my own is deemed too dangerous to even be considered. This extends to joining an organised tour that comprises of strangers. I have their blessing but another recipient of this must also be recognised and to be an eligible candidate, he or she must be known by my parents.

Which leads me to the second problem. I have to admit that I don’t have a vast circle of friends. Worse, I can’t really call that many people as compatible travelling companions. But the biggest hindrance is my choice of dream vacations/destinations. They are either too prohibitive in terms of cost or too exotic that the safety quickly becomes suspect. Invariably, they are both. I’ve always wanted to go further afield, not limiting myself to the beaten tracks to too familiar places but nobody seems to see it that way. Unless I’m willing to go to Amsterdam or Barcelona or the ubiquitous favourite furthest-destination-for-UK-students, Turkey, I’ll never be able to find a travel buddy. I don’t mean they’re lousy choices but at the risk of sounding boastful, I’ve been to some of the places or they don’t really appeal to me that much (this actually works in the opposite way too. That, I must realise). Of course, I’ve attempted to use the formula by choosing the so-called safe destinations in my future itineraries but I think I’m too contemptible to travel with that the interest is yet to be seen.

This is an unwinnable battle for me as long as the conflicts remain unresolved. So, I should just stay at home, read a novel, or simply sleep until I lose track of the time. It’s not too bad an option, perhaps the wisest one as no expenses are incurred, no jetlag to be nursed away, no broken heart to be mended. The only exotic place I wish to visit now is the high street for some mindless shopping.

Plot bunnies, go away...?

So, I've been enticed by two plot bunnies. I know I should get my priorities right but the want to write is overpowering. Oh wait, I haven't even started writing anything! Anyhoo, I need help to decide on which one I should write. I have two skeletons of stories to consider.

1. Andrew's travelog

Andrew Smith, now 20-year old, is embarking on a trip of a lifetime. Fresh from graduating from MIT (summa cum laude), he's very excited to make his way around the world sans the comfort of first class flights, fine dining, and Hilton double duvets. He'll go to the most far flung locations, off the pesky tourists' track, and he'll do what locals do either to earn money or just for the heck of it. Will he get mugged on the streets of Colombia, or will he be eating exotic cuisines in China? Will he find voluptuous foreign girls or will he run into his mother in more than one occasions? And will he discover his true self at the end of his journey?

I'm thinking of writing this from the first person point of view. Like a proper travelog. There'll be side stories on the characters from the past like how Ryan is coping with the medical school or why Timmy takes the decision to drop out and does what he does now, which is a tad too unsavory...

2. The second one is a completely different story altogether. I get this idea from the recent/current volcano ash skirmish that saw/sees thousands of flights grounded and more people stranded.

Bill is a 42-year old man who is attending a business meeting in Shanghai. Towing him is his wise cracking, insanely gorgeous 16-year old daughter, Nicole. As he makes his way to Shanghai-Pudong Airport to hop on his scheduled flight to London, he finds out all flights into Europe have been cancelled. Normally, he won't mind the trip extension but he has an extremely important conference with his lawyer and his soon-to-be-ex wife's lawyer. The woman in question is Sandra, a fierce, aristocratic woman who eats men for breakfast. If he doesn't make it to the meeting, he's risking losing half of his possessions and also the custody of his children. But his biggest concern is not Sandra; he has a date fixed with his latest girlfriend, Maria who looks very much like Penelope Cruz. If he misses the date, the repercussion is dire.

He re-books his ticket and both of them are now flying back to London via Chicago and New York. This way, he has the chance to visit his estranged son who is now studying in New York City. He'll figure out a way to get back to the Queen's Realm once he gets there.

Little did he know that the journey he and his daughter (who also has her plans-to meet her secret lover in Chicago) is going to be more than what he has bargained for...

So, which one? Should I write both? Knowing my writing speed, it's highly unlikely.

?

Whatever happened to this space?

I'm sorry for neglecting you but I've never been this apathetic before. There was one time when sharing the most mundane of happenings seemed rather cool. Now, even the biggest events are not worthy of reporting.

I've been kinda busy of late. But not that busy that I can still spend at least hours on Airline Manager everyday. Which is dumb. Really. Dumb. And now I'm foraging through the jungle of information for tomorrow's PBL. Maybe I should be the scribe so I'll appear occupied with the task of jotting down points pitched by other members in the group rather than looking like a Law student who had stumbled into an operation theatre.

It's killing me, this pathetic feeling of apathy. I honestly don't know what's happening to me nowadays.

Maybe I should be a scribe...