The World Between Worlds

Airports are funny places. For anybody who has read C.S. Lewis, I always think of airports as that wooded place full of ponds which were really doorways into new, or old, worlds – the world between worlds. That place was, I think, although it’s been a very long time since I’ve read CS Lewis, a kind of quiet place, but you couldn’t really do anything there. This place – Bangkok Airport – is mostly quiet at the moment (12:16 am) but there are plenty of lively places, one of which is where I am. I just spent $8 for a slushy and a small crispy sandwich. Let’s see, that’s almost 150,000 vnd, which is one night at the guesthouse on China Beach…

Leaving Vietnam feels strange. I am slightly dazzled by Burger King, Pizza Hut and Dairy Queen all lit up and next to each other. There are plenty of those kinds of places in Vietnam, but I usually avoid them like the plague. My last day in Hanoi was nice - downpour in the morning, drenching humidity and heat remaining after that, while I rode my motorbike around town trying to change money and looking at lakes and places again, knowing I won’t see them for awhile.

After the downpour, riding out to the airport in late afternoon the sky was brilliant blue with puffy clouds and the glowing green rice fields. My taxi had a minor accident on the way to the airport. Just a scrape, but the ensuing seemingly culturally obligatory shouting match did make me laugh. Being ahead of schedule, for once in my life, I was unconcerned by the delay.

…

I had safe flights, if sometimes bumpy. 4th of July fireworks that you can see from 36,000 ft up. A country with big cars and everyone is going fast and nobody blows their horn. It is good to be home, but also odd to be back. I’m sure I can come up with something more profound than that at some point, right now I am going to bed.