*Disclaimer: Might have stolen this subject line from the “Cha Cha Slide”. Credit where credit is due 👍

Though they both share the same first name, South America and Southeast Asia are in no way close nor well connected. Bummer! After finally settling on Thailand as my next destination, I had a new challenge: how to get there? Buenos Aires to Bangkok ain’t a cheap flight—and it’s not convenient either. After sifting through what seemed like an endless amount of transportation options for days on end (it is surprisingly hard to plan travel when you have *literally* no parameters), I finally found a combo that worked: two separate flights—one from Buenos Aires to London, and then the second, five days later, from London to Bangkok. It was the perfect plan: somehow this route ended up being less expensive, would be better on the body, and afforded me some time to explore a city I hadn’t been to in over 10 years. London, baby!!! Here we come. 

Joey, I FEEL you!

In a way, stopping over in London was also a strategic decision. It was a chance for me to reboot in the Western world. To be at ease in a big city, just for a few days. To speak my own language again. To feel a bit of fall—a season I’d all but skipped this year. It was similar enough to New York to give me the little hit I needed to keep on keeping on. London, baby!! I was ready.

But what I didn’t anticipate was how … abrupt, for lack of a better term, the transition to and from London would be. While Buenos Aires was no doubt a sophisticated city, London was truly next level. My flight was due in at 3:00 am, and for my first night, I had decided to stay at a little inn close to the airport to avoid dealing with long, late-night public transportation to my hostel. I landed in Gatwick on time to a T. After arriving in customs, my US passport put me in a priority line—one where there was no line at all. I simply went up to a machine, scanned my passport, stared into a camera, took a photo, and was directed by a soothing robot voice to walk through a glass gate and into the UK. London, baby! I had made it! 

After sailing through customs, I walked through the airport to a taxi stand. An attendant entered my destination into a computer, which then electronically appeared on my driver’s iPhone. He walked me to the car, which, I kid you not, opened upwards like a freaking bat mobile. Five minutes later, I was dropped off at a small cottage where the receptionist had left a printed note, my key, and the wifi password on the entrance table. It was almost eerie how smooth, convenient, and automated everything was. London, baby! We are NOT in South America anymore. 

Over the next four days, I embraced this efficiency everywhere I could—and tried to take in everything London had to offer. I rode the highly prompt, incredibly clean Tube to Camden and Shoreditch. I paid for each meal and drink with my contactless credit card—even when buying from street vendors. I enjoyed beautiful buildings like the opera house and the British Museum. And, above all else, I relished the orderly, the navigable, the pristine, the safe. I felt like an addict getting my fix—high on English and history, on cozy pubs and sprawling parks, and, most of all, the feeling of home. London, baby! I couldn’t get enough. 

But then, my time was up … and Thailand was up next. My personal rendezvous in London was meant to be an exciting pitstop on the way to another adventure. But now, I was beginning to worry it would feel more like cultural waterboarding. After forcing myself face first into the intense, unfamiliar environment of South America for four months, I was able to come up for air in London—to breathe easy and let my guard down just a bit—only to plunge back into another crazy and chaotic place. I was trading cabs for tuk tuks. Full toilets for squatty potties. Price tags for haggling. And the elegant Regent Street for the wild Khao San Road. Even though this waterboarding was mental, my neck could still practically feel the whiplash. 

In reality, though, my transition to Bangkok was actually pretty seamless. I met a Thai guy on the plane who’d grown up in New York, and drove me all the way to my hostel himself. I discovered and downloaded the app, Grab—the Uber of Southeast Asia. My accommodations were actually nicer than those in London, and for a fraction of the price! And I could get Pad Thai or Pad See Ew on pretty much every block … ahhhh, just like being back on 9th Avenue in Hell’s Kitchen. Sure, Thailand was still verrryyy different than my previous destination. But it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. And sometimes the best way to get to know a country is to just dive right in.

Cheers ya’ll,

Caroline