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In transit, again

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One of only two photos I took in KL: from the front of the mall where I bought my latest replacement mobile phone. Sigh.

Coming at you from Gate E1 at Bangkok Airport, where I am waiting to board a flight for Nairobi. I flew through Bangkok roughly a million times when I was younger, going back and forth between London and Sydney, and I remember the airport quite fondly, but either my standards have risen (hard to believe, given the amount of time I spend in Juba Airport) or Bangkok Airport has deteriorated, because it is grim and featureless and enormous and poorly signposted and I have taken violently against it. This could be partly because I have been transiting through late at night or early in the morning, the sorts of times that make you call into question everything in your life, as if you are poised on the edge of an abyss of despair. (Possibly just me.) Anyway! Soon I will get on the flight and I plan to quickly lose consciousness and remain so until Nairobi. (Or as much as possible, given that it is a full flight and I have a middle seat. Worst ever.)


  • Just finishing up William Gay’s Little Sister Death, which is brilliantly creepy and beautifully written.
  • Spent the last two days in Kuala Lumpur hanging out with my magnificent friend Nine and reading zines thanks to Biawak Gemok Distro.
  • In my last few days in Myanmar, I read Rainbow Rowell’s Carry On, which simply slayed (Her young adult writing works so much better for me than her adult stuff.) Various clever people have written already about the frankly brilliant way in which the book tackles fanfiction and Chosen One tropes and the legacy of Harry Potter, so you should go and read them, not me. Here, here, and here.

Also, I went to Lake Inle, and it was stunning.


Stupas in Indein

Managed to not fall off the boat into the lake at any point, which was more challenging than it should have been.


Fisherman at dusk, engaged in traditional standing rowing technique. My guide was very strict about only allowing me to take pictures of Real Fishermen, rather than the chaps who just pose for the tourists.

Great wings of misty light crashing down from the mountains. Oh, world, you are killing me.

Village; perfect sky; perfect water.

Written by Jess

November 9, 2015 at 12:00 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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