There’s no place like home

For the past six months, I’ve been on the road most days. My travels took me to three different countries, spanning eight different cities around the world. That’s not a lot of air miles in the eyes of the seasoned traveller; but to someone who only first stepped foot inside a plane when he was 18, it’s a potent mixture of flight fatigue and a little homesickness.

Growing up in a close-knitted family and being in a foreign land, keeping in touch every day with them surpassed any of my fundamental social needs. Travelling alone made this even more imperative. Even though sleeping and waking up in a different city every other day may seem like a novel idea at first, without friends and family by my side, I quickly grew tired of it.

Certainly, travelling solo isn’t an easy thing to do. The difficulty, unlike a decade ago, is not so much of finding your way around but the psychological aspect of keeping yourself sane enough through sufficient social interactions. And as much as I appreciated the autonomy of travelling alone, I can’t deny that sometimes I wished there was somebody here with me.

One day, long after these memories have faded, I might travel the world alone again. But until then, home, here in Singapore, is where my heart is.

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