Souvenirs | Spring 2018

Page 24



or a drifter, home is a fluid concept. When I’m travelling, I tend to think of “home” as wherever I am on that particular day - maybe a hostel or a local park - any place I can be comfortable and happy. In the hustle and bustle of Old City Chiang Mai, Thailand, home was a tiny cafe. I arrived in Chiang Mai mid-morning, exhausted from long overnight flights and looking forward to taking a nap as soon as I got to my hostel. I was a bit



overwhelmed, as it was my first time in Southeast Asia, but I managed to successfully catch a taxi at the airport. The driver took me into the city and dropped me off along the side of a road, pointing down a short street towards where my hostel apparently was. Backpack already weighing heavy on my tired shoulders, I set out along the road but it quickly split, twisting off into a maze of narrow streets. There was no sign of my hostel. I showed several

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