What Happens After New York

The first few lines

On the 20th November 2009 I finished work for the final time having taken voluntary redundancy from my employer of almost ten years. I had little or no idea of what to do next but the idea of remaining deep in the mediocrity left me with a substantial desire to leave, so when the opportunity arose I didn't hesitate to act. I received a little over one thousand pounds for every painful, tawdry year I had spent trying to sell mobile phones to people who had very little interest in buying a mobile phone. Thinking this money would last forever I set about planning a trip around the world, to places I'd long wanted to visit and revisit some of the places I feel made me. The trip would also coincide with my much feared 30th birthday on the 24th of February 2010. What I would do with my life beyond this point I figured I would work out along the way, thinking then that most or at least some of the money would be intact upon my return. This trip is perhaps my shiny red sports car, my mid-life crisis. Sitting here now on what has become a mystical distant date, January 24th 2010, in Manchester airport, little or none of said monies remains and I have in fact taken a loan from my ever generous father just to get by, I hope. And so I'm now waiting, as I suspect I will become quite accustomed to, for this journey to begin. I will visit Hong Kong, Australia, New Zealand followed by America and hopefully Canada and Mexico, but first Dubai airport, a ten hour stop over until my connecting flight to Hong Kong. I will leave New York City on April 1st 2010, with no money, no job and few prospects, I will hopefully have a greater understanding of both the world and my place in it, I am hoping more than anything that I will by then have an answer for the question, what happens after New York?

It Begins

Dubai airport is amongst the strangest places I've ever been. It's obvious that airports are transient places but almost everyone seems to be leaving Dubai upon arrival, to the extent that finding the way out has taken me almost an hour. This could quite possibly be due to my overly relaxed attitude to paying attention to signs but never-the-less this is by far the most confusing airport I have ever visited. There seems to be vast numbers of people, I should say men, employed to stand around looking idle, many of them brandishing walkie talkies in a threatening manner and responding with almost total confusion to any enquiry despite their fluent English.
I am struck with awe, jetlag and confusion as I sit here cutting a loan figure in arrivals. There seems to be few people arriving yet the departures lounge, where confusingly I arrived, is like Time Square on a Saturday afternoon. It is now that I am glad, glad that I left my job, glad that I spent all the money I had and more on this trip. I barely spoke a word on the flight, surrounded by people heading off to their two week paradise or to visit relatives, some like myself I guess, shrouded in mystery yet a small enquiry is likely to reveal some mediocre endeavour no doubt. I wanted to tell people what I was doing, where I was going but I'm still not sure if it's a great adventure or a poorly planned folly, I'm not yet sure if I should be proud or ashamed of where I find myself. I am though hungry and somewhat preoccupied by a man with a very loud mop who seems obsessed with cleaning every square inch of already immaculate marble floor within two foot of me, so I shall once again brave the departures lounge. I have now eight hours to kill before my flight to Hong Kong and given that it's 3am here braving the city in the dark is not an option, I shall remain in the purgatory to which I have become so accustomed since leaving my job. I have, it feels, been waiting my whole life to arrive in Hong Kong.
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When sat at home in the room that had become my skin over the past six weeks, booking flights and hotels was fun and exciting, the idea of a ten hour stop over in Dubai seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do, it saved me a couple of hundred pounds and the experience would be one to look back upon with pride and envy of my former self, how wrong I was. Alas I am still in Dubai airport, my eyes are heavy, my ability to comprehend the most simple of tasks is fading and right now I would gladly sell myself to medical science if it meant a warm bed and sleep. I am struggling to remember life before this airport, my identity is fading and I am beginning to feel like a travel weary clone. Upon a recent trip to the toilet I walked into my own reflection in a full length mirror believing it to be an exit, I then apologised to myself before realising what was actually happening only to turn around to see a rather bemused looking fellow traveller hurriedly leave through the correct exit. This airport is a labyrinth, a vast colony of neutral colours and mass 24 hour retail. A sign indicates that it will take 20 minutes to walk from one end to another and like a great river it has tributaries branching off in every direction. Each branch contains its own ghost towns and over populated cities, each has its own character and sound. In some corners there are mass armies of empty chairs, low lights and occasional sleeping bodies griping their belongings like loved ones, in other corners there appear to be religious festivals and grand tours beginning and ending as far as the eye can see and the ears can hear. Caffeine is coursing through me adding to the confusion, I'm still dreaming of Hong Kong but I feel no closer now than when I dreamed up this crazy trip.
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It's now been over 30 hours and three countries since I last slept, I am bewildered beyond description, jet lagged but in total awe of Hong Kong. Arriving on Hong Kong Island from the airport by train was the most simple part of this trip so far and the taxi to the hotel was fast and inexpensive. Everything here seems to make sense and I love it already. It's 11pm but I must venture back out in pursuit of food, I will then sleep before any coherence can return.
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I awoke refreshed to my first misty morning in Asia still not sure if I was dreaming, i initially feared I may have nodded off again in Dubai airport and be dreaming still of this warm and comfortable hotel room. Arriving by night had not prepared me for the hustle and bustle of this city, just outside my hotel I found great torrents of people heading in every direction, it's hard not to feel the pulse of humanity here. Walking the streets I felt truly elated, this is indeed what I had been waiting for and it's glorious. Gratitude and apology are a given here and any additional pleasantries are met with confusion, which I like. Having spent some time in a small Cumbrian village earlier this month finding strangers thrust their polite hellos and good mornings on me was rather unsettling, here goodwill is just assumed and so no one thinks twice about moving out of your way. The only aggression I have found here is from men trying to hawk their goods, telling me 'you have a lucky face' or 'new suit?' Initially I had thought perhaps they were simply commenting on my appearance as one man said I had a very attractive forehead and he could tell from this that I was a very lucky man.
The Star ferry to Kowloon was everything the guide book said it would be but I couldn't help be swept up by the panorama. Kowloon, while architecturally fascinating seemed like one large tourist trap with bus loads of Chinese from the mainland on day trips. I can't help feel some pride at what the British help create here, perhaps without the empire it would still exist but the unique charm of the city is in the cliché of east meeting west. I am truly happy, it's not often I say that, but right now, with little time to reflect, I am delighted to be in Hong Kong.
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My second night in Hong Kong was a rather sleepless one, perhaps the combination of jetlag and exhaustion or the food I ate from a market in Wan Chai, I'm not sure but something turned my insides out. This morning I swiftly purchased some Imodium from a nearby Seven Eleven and that seemed to do the trick. I have developed this strange sense of guilt whenever I'm not out and about here in Hong Kong and so I have spent almost every waking hour in one part of the city or another. I've visited the peak and again crossed the harbour to Kowloon where once again strange men offered to show me suits, one man even followed me for a while muttering 'hey guy, what you want, anything, hash?' I just ignored him but I did wonder once again what this says about my appearance. The peak felt very similar to Gibraltar, a place very dear to my heart, the views were spectacular but the sign indicating a viewing point a twenty minute walk away was grossly inaccurate and I found myself deep in tropical rainforest. There are tens of different sides to this city and the number is doubled at night, I'm becoming addicted to getting lost as this almost always leads to a wonderful nervousness followed by relief when I realise where I am. I've taken to hopping on and off the underground in different stations, some lead you into vast shopping malls that are virtually impossible to leave. This city is filled with covered walkways and escalators that seem to lead you in large circles, disorientation is something the visitor is forced to become accustomed to.
I wonder, as I always do, why people look at me, I wonder if it's because I look odd or because my natural demeanour is one of anger and confusion but I think it's more than likely because I was first looking at them. I can't seem to help looking at every face, the people of this city are fascinating, a more confident version of me would be engaging people in conversation at every opportunity but like in most great cities that's not the done thing.
In the back of my mind and the periphery of my consciousness there is a desire to begin to tackle the deep frustrations that fester within me, after all that was one of the primary reasons for this trip. I want to try and give a deep meaningful account of my time here and then use this new found understanding to make sense of my life. I am however too busy looking upward at skyscrapers and having fun, I shun any dark thoughts, frankly all the darkness seems to dissolve with every new sight, sound or smell I encounter. Right now I am totally immersed in the wonderment of this city, I am the archetypal tourist and I couldn't be happier. My plan for tomorrow is to head out into the new territories, closer to the real China, as the guide book says.
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I am in love with this place, though it's more of an affair than a relationship. Often when I travel I find a place where I feel I would love to live, settle down, find a wife and live out my days as the locals do, not here. I would love to return but the idea of living here is beyond any fantasy I could create. I love hustle and bustle, I love feeling like the place I am in is at the centre of the earth, a hub of human activity and development, but to live here having not been born here would be a superhuman feat. I have just returned from a stroll during rush hour, rush is not accurate, nor is hour, busy 3 hours would be more precise, and busy by Hong Kong standards is nothing like anywhere else on earth. Often it feels like you have little or no control over the direction or pace of your own movement and to see a gap in the crowd is rare. When these gaps do appear it's because of beggars sat amongst the crowds displaying their ailments and injuries in a bid for sympathy in the form of coins or notes. Some of the conditions on display are quite disturbing, often what appear to be huge cancerous growths to the face or flesh wounds, one man had what looked like an infected gash so bad you could see the bone, this amidst the back drop of what is unquestionably the most modern city I have ever visited and possibly the most modern city in the world. I doubt very much these people would be left to beg in this way anywhere in the west, there is much to be said about the NHS.
It seems wherever you travel in the world Great Britain is never very far. I'm watching BBC World News, a channel which is broadcast in every nation I have ever visited. The News is of the poor relief effort for the people of Haiti after the recent devastating earth quake, it seems the world is much better equip at sending news reporters than it is doctors and vital supplies. I am certainly not missing home and right now I have few regrets about this trip, this would no doubt have me storming into one of what my father calls 'rants' about the state of the world and in particular the media. One regret I do currently have about this trip is one I had prior to leaving and that's the timing. One of my oldest and dearest friends, and someone I have before now done most of my travelling with; Stuart Todd, Toddy to everyone who knows him, at times including his parents, has today (yesterday at home) become a married man. The wedding was unfortunately planned after I had planned this trip so I don't feel a great deal of guilt but I am very sorry I missed this milestone. He is also due to become a father shortly after my return and I hope not to miss that. Seems everyone I grew up has now indeed grown up and I'm still searching for that plateau of stability and happiness, perhaps though it is this instability and variation that is to be my plateau, I rather hope not.
I visited the New Territories today on this my final day in Hong Kong, and like the guide book suggested it certainly felt like the China I had envisaged. Rather like those people with immaculate homes there is inevitably a closet somewhere with all their untidy and undesirable clutter, hidden away to create the illusion that they are perfect in their housekeeping, in part this is true of the New Territories. There are places of incredible beauty, misty mountains covered with deep tropical jungle, rocky bays and traditional fishing villages but almost all of this beauty and wonder is scared by building work and relentless tower blocks so densely packed that you could throw a stone at one and hit five before the stone reached the ground. This is a side of Hong Kong I would love to have explored further but during my four or five hours of train hopping in the incredible humidity the only non-Chinese face I saw was my own reflection in the perfectly maintained mirrored walls of the train stations. This would not normally be of concern to me but I felt at times slightly out of my depth as I wondered around entirely residential and industrial areas looking, I'm sure, rather suspicious.
I have thoroughly enjoyed Hong Kong and it is unlike anywhere else I have ever been, normally upon leaving somewhere I have warmed to I am desperately trying to reason with gods I don't believe in to afford me one more day in paradise. I am in no doubt that if I was heading home this would be true of Hong Kong but as it is I am heading to Sydney, my first venture into the southern hemisphere. I feel as though I already know Australia, like a tenacious little brother to a different mother or a cheeky cousin I have heard stories about but never met. It'll hopefully be everything I'm expecting and more but before then is the annoyance of 21st century air travel, the time aboard is not the problem, this is an alien period that is while quite uncomfortable also rather exciting, it's the getting to and from this that pains me. Still it could be worse, I could be getting up to go to work in the morning.
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It's a bittersweet feeling, sitting in airports waiting and waiting. I am enjoying watching the people go by and the occasional fantasies about adopting their life or their lifestyle, I would love for my life to have meaning, for me to be important, the idea that I might be of use to a company or country, that someone might wait for me with my name on a card and a plush car waiting outside. But these fantasies invariably remind me that I am none of these things, I wonder though if maybe they might be fantasising about the apparent freedom I have and the journey I'm on, I'm sure if I was important I'd be dreaming of the freedom I currently hold, the grass for me is always greener. Outside the hotel this morning while waiting for my taxi there was an English couple arguing with hushed but increasingly angry voices, it made me smile, made me happy to be travelling alone. The smile was not because of some sadistic envy but because every relationship I have ever had has been a disaster and I have so often found myself in such an argument, I spend most of my time longing for a relationship and missing the intimacy and connection, this was I nice reminder of all I am happy to be without.
I'm a little worried as my flight arrives in Sydney at 7am but I can't check in my hotel until 2pm, to add to this I've rather foolishly dressed in quite warm clothing today and it's due to be in excess of 30c in Sydney tomorrow, my logic never fails to annoy. Still, Andy Murray has made it to the Australian open final on Sunday and having followed his career from the very start I'm greatly looking forward to watching this final in the nation it's being played. I'm going to check in now and go through security, oh how I love airport security.