When I visited Inverness, Scotland a few years ago, I saw a large amount of people wearing “I <3 London” hoodies and T-shirts. In Bangkok, Thailand, I saw many a Union Jack and the very same “I <3 London” T-shirts. Now, in Bournemouth, England, I feel like I’m surrounded by a constant stream of “I <3 NYC” T-shirts (oh, and of course, the shops selling London-related stuff).
The question I want to ask of this is: WHYYYYYYYYYY?
I mean, merchandise bought from your travels is great – it boosts the country’s economy, gives you a souvenir that will last until you break it in some stupid manner, and is PROOF YOU WENT THERE. As the daughter of a former tour operator, I like to consider myself fairly well-travelled, and have many knick-knacks from my trips around the globe.
However, out of all the people I’ve seen wearing these goodies, I can be certain that at least half of them have never stepped foot in the location they’re so freely advertising. Several high street shops are currently selling items that proclaim the beautiful happy happy joy joy joyfulness of faraway places such as Paris and New York, with images covered in tacky filters and bad fonts. What I don’t understand is why people would willingly buy merchandise inscribed with the names of places they’ve never ever been to in their lives.
For me, souvenirs tell stories. If I see someone wearing a T-shirt or carrying a pen, for example, advertising a place I’ve visited, I will usually strike up a conversation and ask them about their experience of it, comparing and contrasting with my experiences. Even hearing secondhand tales of friends who brought these people back these souvenirs is interesting. It just really grates on me to hear, “I’ve never been to [place] before, but I saw this [item] in [shop] and bought it.”
Why would you do such a thing? Do you buy it just for the pretty colours, or to lie about visiting? Do you really love the place you’ve never been, or does it fill your preconceived notion about said place? One thing I’ve learned over the past few months is that a location everyone hypes up so much is never as good in reality. Yes, Paris may be considered romantic to some, but if you’ve never been there before, it just makes you look like a massive tool.
I feel like there’s something I’m missing. Please enlighten me.
Some people tie their identity to their hobbies, some to their work, and some, like I thought I did, tie it to the place they live. I don’t mean “place” in regards to the house you live in, because that never stays the same for me, but I mean the surrounding environment. In the last few months, I’ve moved halfway across the world and back again, for various reasons, and now, I’m just really, really confused. I’ve been a Londoner for what seems like forever, and now I’m just… Not. I don’t know what to call myself any more.
I was born in Bangkok, Thailand, but lived in London, England for over a decade. I loved my city, full of museums, shopping, the best transport system I could ever ask for (I know I whined about it constantly, but compared to everywhere else, Transport for London is amazing), and glorious nightlife. I miss the people I met in this city more than anything else there, but back at the end of June, I stopped being a Londoner because of wonderful opportunities I found in another place. I put everything I owned into storage, hopped onto a plane for 13 hours and found myself back in Bangkok.
And, I have to say, despite not being there in years, it truly felt like I’d come home in a way that London had never felt. Cost of living was so much cheaper, food tasted better, and, well, it truly felt like a homecoming. The people I met there are just… Amazing. Never have I felt surrounded by so much love. In the middle of September, for practical reasons (money, unfortunately, isn’t an unlimited resource), I had to pack my bags and come back to the UK. At Suvarnabhumi Airport, I was surrounded by people who felt excited to return to London, or visit it for the first time. Not me – I was the girl who couldn’t stop crying, even while we were in the air. I just didn’t want to leave.
I no longer have a place to live in London.
So what am I now? I’m an ex-Londoner, a former Bangkokian, and I just don’t feel comfortable in the place I’m living now, Bournemouth. I guess I have a rose-tinted view of all the places I used to go, and people I used to see. This will probably change when a pigeon craps on my head in Hyde Park, or when a taxi driver tries to rip me off near Victory Monument because my accent sounds just that little bit different.
I will be going to visit London again in a few weeks, this time as a tourist for the day (and perhaps for the night, too). There’s a large part of me that knows that it will feel just that little bit alien to me (because I haven’t lived there in months, not just because this is the longest period I haven’t owned an Oyster card since they first came out).
I still know the Tube map off by heart. I can still direct you to hidden places the average tourist would never dream of. I still love my adopted city more than most other places around the world.
It just isn’t home any more.
I have a good memory when it comes to songs. I can remember where I first heard most of the songs in my music collection, whether it be riding on a particular bus, in a house I used to live in, or just an episode of a TV show. I don’t really link people to particular tracks, unless they were with me at the time the song was played.
The one exception to this is Fine by Lemon Demon.
One. Two. Three. Four
Today has a way of scarring your eyes
with negative light, but it’s a disguise.
I put on my shades and see through the lies.
The convenient truth is:Light is on the way.
We’ll be having a fun time.
It’s such a lovely day.
We should pocket the sunshine
and never give it back
even if there’s a heat wave
or terrorist attack.
It will just be a close shave, I know.I know… that every bomb has a silver lining, I know.
I know… it won’t be long untileverthing works out nice in the end.
The sun will marry the moon.
It’ll be fine.
Why don’t we sit back mellow again
and have a nice afternoon?
It’ll be fine.I go for a walk.
The sidewalk is cracked.
I’m not superstitious,
but I made a pact with old Mother Earth:
She’d get off my back if I get off hers.Light is on the way.
We’ll be having a fun time.
It’s such a lovely day.
We should pocket the sunshine
and never give it back
even if there’s a heat wave.
We’re stalling on the track.
It will just be a close shave, I know.I know… that in a snap, all the birds will sing, I know.
I know… I’m full of crap, but still,everthing works out nice in the end.
The sun will marry the moon.
It’ll be fine.
Why don’t we sit back mellow again
and have a nice afternoon?
It’ll be fine.Fine…
Fine…
Fine…
Everything is gonna be
Fine…
Fine…
Fine…
Everything is gonna beFine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.
Everything is gonna beFine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.
Everything is gonna be…..One. Two. Three. Four??
Everthing works out nice in the end.
The sun will marry the moon.
It’ll be fine.
Why don’t we sit back mellow again
and have a nice afternoon?
It’ll be fine.Everthing works out nice in the end.
(I know…)
(The sun will marry the moon.)
Works out nice in the end…(that every bomb has a silver lining, I know.)
Why don’t we sit back mellow again(I know…)
(and have a nice afternoon?)Sit back mellow again…
(it won’t be long until)Everthing works out nice in the end.
The sun will marry the moon.
It’ll be fine.
Why don’t we sit back mellow again
and have a nice afternoon?
It’ll be fine, fine, fine, fine.
I was first introduced to this song by Katharine (who also hosts this website for me). I first chatted to Katharine a couple of years ago through Plurk, a social networking site we both used to use quite a bit. I won’t ever forget the first chat we had on something like MSN or Skype. I wound up listening to her music stream, and when I left the computer to go and wash my hair, she started playing creepy music reminiscent of Psycho. Nothing gets you out of a shower quicker than hearing scary, dramatic music, and getting mental images of the Psycho shower scene. Evil. Just evil. Anyway, we became friends, and one day, she sent me this song. She’d quote the lyrics to me randomly, or whenever one of us felt down about something. So, er, to cut a long story short, and because I’ve got 5 minutes to go until I fail this challenge, whenever I listen to this song, I’m reminded of Katharine because it’s taught me that EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE.
And I say this in the kindest way possible. Louise and Emma are some of the loveliest people I know, but they can be a bit, well, slow on the uptake. Their names link to posts insulting them/instances where they’ve pissed me off in some way, and I can usually handle only one of them at a time each day without having feelings of violence. Recently, I made a fatal error by talking to both of them within hours of each other.
To start off with, I phoned Emma because I needed to find out where we were going to meet for a gig we both had tickets to. Halfway through our conversation, I heard her landline ring. Instead of ignoring it or picking it up and putting me on hold, she said instead:
Emma: Are you ringing me?
Me: I’m talking to you on your mobile now. How could I possibly be ringing you?
AAARGH.
Later on in the evening, I decided to talk to Louise on Skype. WHAT WAS I THINKING? I discussed the conversation I had had with Emma earlier. Strangely, Louise seemed nonplussed, as if ringing the same person on two phones at the same time was a completely normal thing to do.
Louise: you could have been ringing her on /your/ house phone
Me: Why would I want to ring her if I was already talking to her?
Louise: to be annoying?
Me: ^ That is not a valid reason.
And I swear to God, she then said the following:
Louise: like an echo effect or something
Louise: oh no because then you could talk to her with two phones aw that would be quite cool
I was speechless. Mind you, I should have seen it coming, because when we first started talking on Skype that evening, she asked me what VAT was. I wouldn’t hold this against her so much if she was a tourist, but seeing as she’s lived in the UK for all her life…
Me: I can’t vote here, but can’t claim VAT back when I leave the country.
Me: When I go to Thailand, I can’t claim VAT there either as I hold a Thai passport.
Louise: aww no vat for rammi
Louise: …. wait what’s vat?
Me: The 20% tax you pay on purchases?
I should probably find some other friends who don’t make me want to bash my head against a brick wall repeatedly.
Addendum
I just told Louise I’d put this blog post up.
Me: You… You… SAY THINGS THAT NO OTHER PERSON WITH A FULLY FUNCTIONING BRAIN WOULD EVER SAY.
Louise: and i’m quite proud of that, makes me unique
Short version: The Thai Embassy, The Thai Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Amthaipaper sent me to Thailand last month.
tl;dr version is below. … Continue Reading
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