Elephant Hills

Deep in the luscious rainforest of Khao Sok, Elephant Hills is a tropical tented paradise, submerged within the depth of the jungle. Arriving, we entered an idyll microcosm of jungle paradise. We walked through the leafy terrain with only our thoughts to occupy us. Crickets and birds chirped the words of the jungle. Admittedly our tent was luxurious, mosquito proof and an en-suite bathroom, "how can a tent be so beautiful" you think? But it was, it is. So we camp within the depths of the jungle and play in the hammocks that hang from the patio of new home. We leave the tent to go on our first excursion. Words aren't sufficient to explain the pleasure of our time here. We are transported to the elephant camp on an old army truck, we enter a surreal environment. Elephants are in their natural environment, close enough to touch, to feel and to stroke. A mahout looks after an elephant at all times, the elephants are raised with the mahouts. The bond is easily observed, a man and an elephant work as a singular form. We see a baby elephant, not even a year old. Our guide 'No. 1" makes jokes and our experience is very pleasurable. We laugh with him, as he plays with the elephants, humanising them. They respond to his affection with pleasure. We prepare the meals for the elephants, chopping up plants for their afternoon lunch. We feed them, not minding the saliva that gets onto our faces and hands. The pleasure is worth the spit back. The elephants have a 'bath' much like the small child you see in the washing powder adverts who gets themselves muddier before sparky clean. The mahout guides us whilst we scrub the elephant gently and the hose her down. We learn that elephants are matriarchal (if only the world could learn from them?) The elephant kisses us with her trunk and we say goodbye, ready for our next jungle adventure. The world is a much more beautiful place when you take everything away and realise that things can be so simple and pure.

Arrival

30 hours travelling, 30 hours of severe bum numbness. 11 hours of inconsiderate people winding their chairs fully back on the plane. 10 minutes of frantically running a mile to the connecting next flight. 5 hours listening to The Weeknd and other various artists that remind me of home. 2 hours in between sleeps watching 'Wreck it Ralph'. 1 hour reading 'The Little Prince' (thanks Danny). 2 hours coercing mum into letting me rest my legs on her. A little amount of time being sad about leaving certain people. A large amount of time being nervous. A 2 hour thunderstorm, watching the rain pelt down, certainly sure of the end of the world with the ferocious angry god like claps of thunder and Zeuslike bolts of lightening.
Two hours drinking Singha, under a beautiful star filled sky. No amount of time spent realising that this is where I belong and my new home. Citronella fills the air to ward away those lady loving mosquitoes, I have a beer in my hand. It's warmer than I have been in the past six months. They are playing Incubus in the beach bar. My heart is slightly heavy but will be okay. Time for fun.

Leaving

The decision to leave your entire life behind is incomprehensive. You fall in love, you fall out of love. You have a working family, you don't. Friendships, life and loves are fickle so why not leave? People don't leave, you watch them, they get stuck, they stay the same. It's scary leaving everything to hope to be someone you aren't currently. You can write who you are. You can be who you are. I'm a scared little girl with nothing to write about.
Little Loz, first person. I don't want to be back in the same place, I want to travel, not just for myself but for my amazing dad too. Live the dream. He never got to. YOLO.