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Travel, Sex, and Train Wrecks
Travel, Sex, and Train Wrecks
Travel, Sex, and Train Wrecks
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Travel, Sex, and Train Wrecks

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What does one do when they’ve suffered a bad break up, and are trying to “find” themselves, but aren’t quite ready to deal with reality? Travel, of course.
And so begins the adventure, or should I say misadventure? Seven months taking on Southeast Asia trying to find the answers to life, God, relationships, and sex."
I'd spent the last five years overseas teaching English and was currently living in Taiwan. I was thirty three. My ten year marriage had fallen apart and I suddenly found myself single with no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I had questions with no answers and a divorce I didn't want to deal with.
So, I ran. To Thailand. To Cambodia. To Vietnam. To India. To Sri Lanka. I mean really if you're going to go on the lam can you think of a better place than the exotic beauty of Southeast Asia?
In Travel, Sex, and Train Wrecks I present the whole sordid story of my journey. Just to give you fair warning it does involve sex, hot men with accents, Pad Thai, and bizarre travel situations. And it will probably leave you with an uncontrollable urge to travel to Thailand.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJulie Morey
Release dateJul 17, 2012
ISBN9781476467351
Travel, Sex, and Train Wrecks
Author

Julie Morey

Julie Morey is originally from California. The travel bug bit her in college when she visited Europe with a couple girlfriends. 50 + countries later she is still traveling. She was last seen somewhere in South America. And yes, the crocodile is real.

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    Book preview

    Travel, Sex, and Train Wrecks - Julie Morey

    TRAVEL

    SEX

    &

    TRAIN WRECKS

    By Julie Morey

    Travel, Sex, & Train Wrecks

    Copyright © 2012 by Julie Morey

    First Printing, July, 2012

    Publisher: Julie Morey

    Published on Smashwords

    Cover design by Michael J. Guthrie

    Formatted by eBooksMade4You

    * * *

    All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    * * *

    Find out more about the author, her travels, and upcoming books on her blog www.mytravelconfessions.com or contact her at mytravelconfessions@gmail.com

    Twitter: https://twitter.com/travconfessions

    Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mytravelconfessions

    * * *

    Table of Contents

    Author’s Note

    Introduction – Travel, Sex, and Train Wrecks

    Chapter One – Flashing the World

    Chapter Two - An International Buffet of Men

    Chapter Three - Life, Spirituality, and Happy Pizza

    Chapter Four - I Can be your Hero

    Chapter Five – It’s Like An Abusive Relationship

    Chapter Six - I’d Sell My Soul for a Roll of Charmin

    Chapter Seven - Sex in the Air

    Chapter Eight - Now all I Need is Harry Potter’s Invisibility Cloak…

    Chapter Nine - Yes, I Sleep with Strangers…For Free

    Chapter Ten - What happens in Asia, Stays in Asia (Well, Until Now)

    Chapter Eleven - Ultimate Speed Dating

    Chapter Twelve - I Kissed a Girl

    Chapter Thirteen - Enjoy the Silence

    Chapter Fourteen - Howling at the Moon

    Chapter Fifteen - Stand in the Rain

    Conclusion – Oh The Places You’ll Go!

    Rules of Backpacking (How to Rock out Southeast Asia)

    Rules of Engagement – Southeast Asia Style (How to Drive A Scooter Without Dying)

    Acknowledgments

    About the Author

    * * *

    To my best friends Valerie Jackson Narey and Kelly Bebout. Thanks for your friendship over the last twenty-five years. You always made me believe I could do anything.

    * * *

    Author’s Note

    This is my first book and it has been a much more intensive, time consuming, and fun project than I ever imagined. When I returned from my last trip all my family and friends said, you should write a book. In my head I thought, yeah, yeah, everyone writes a book, but the idea had taken hold and it refused to be dislodged. When I found myself waking up in the middle of the night scribbling thoughts and ideas on a piece of paper I knew I was doomed. The result is here before you. Travel Sex and Train Wrecks.

    I am publishing as an ebook because it seems to be the up and coming way to read books and I can present it in an inexpensive format for anyone to read. If this does end up in your hands and you enjoy it please pass the word on and maybe even write me a glowing review. :) My hope is that you enjoy my story and I might even make enough spare change to keep traveling this crazy world.

    Thanks for reading and enjoy!!

    Julie Morey

    You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go...

    Oh, the Places You'll Go! By Dr. Seuss

    * * *

    Introduction – Travel, Sex, and Train Wrecks

    The familiar beat of JLo thumps along the beach as the glow from the full moon illuminates the writhing mass of bodies. Palm trees sway lazily in the breeze. That last pina colada was strong, I mumble to myself as the evening fades into a warm hazy glow. Some gorgeous, young guy pulls me into his arms. His body sways against me as he leans down, his lips barely touching mine, leaving me begging for more. He grazes my lips again and again before he claims my mouth; his tongue tangling with mine in a raw, sensual kiss. Ah, just another night in Thailand.

    This book is the whole sordid story of my most recent adventure. From flashing my privates on the side of the road at 2 a.m. to kissing random men with accents. From eating pot pizza in Cambodia to a whirlwind week long romance in Thailand. From ten days of silence at a Buddhist Monastery to an almost threesome.

    I’d just finished two years of teaching English in Taiwan and wasn’t ready to head back to the US and face reality. Thailand beckoned to me with its sultry beaches, cheap Pad Thai, and international buffet of male travelers. I decided a seven month trip through Southeast Asia was just what I needed and set off in search of the illusive answers to the universe, God, relationships, and sex. I had a lot to sort out. My life had been a bit of a train wreck for the last few years, and I was escaping from a painful divorce, trying to figure myself out. The exotic beauty of Southeast Asia seemed like the perfect place to go on the run.

    The travel bug had bitten me at an early age. By the time I was preparing to head out on this trip, I had just under fifty countries marked off on the map tacked up on my bedroom wall, if you counted peeing in Albania, which I did. I thought I was prepared for this new adventure, but as you’ll soon see, I had no idea what I was getting into.

    I started this book not knowing exactly how it would turn out, just feeling that I had to write an accounting of my most recent exploits. Never one to do anything in half measures, I threw myself into the project wholeheartedly. The book quickly consumed me—the words pouring out. The story took on a life of its own. It became much more personal, more sexual, and more honest than I’d planned. This trip was an insane, wicked adventure. I’ve done by best to put it to paper. Be warned, as you might guess from the title, this ain’t your typical travel tale.

    * * *

    Chapter One – Flashing the World

    Coughing on the grey cloud of fumes from the departing bus, I look around in consternation. I know it’s after midnight, but still I’d expected…more.

    My heart sinks as I look bleakly around the darkness. Shadowed shapes reveal open roadside booths closed for the night. I catch a glimpse of cabbage piled under a blanket along the dirt road. Shadowy blackness stretches out over the deserted area. I gulp and drag my backpack over to a small, filthy, wooden shack. It isn’t much shelter—with no door, and the front being basically an open air window—probably used to sell fruit or vegetables in the daytime. Still, it hides me a bit as my light skin and blond hair almost glow in the darkness, shouting out how much I do not belong there. It also allows me to see the road where I’d been promised another bus will arrive within fifteen minutes to take me the rest of the way to my destination.

    Two hours later, my eyes ache from looking hopefully into the headlights of every passing vehicle. I pray for the bus with a twisting fear in my gut that I am stranded. And, even worse, I have to pee—badly. I’ve been trying desperately to deny it, to hold it, but my aching bladder demands release.

    Covertly glancing left and right, I peer into the utter blackness. There doesn’t appear to be a soul around, but I feel like there are eyes watching me. I look about hopefully for someplace a little more private than my shack. There is nothing but a useless palm tree and a large truck parked along the side of the road. I sigh in defeat, and scoot back into the farthest corner of the building.

    I push back the sob I can feel forming in my throat. I don’t want to do this. I feel incredibly exposed as I hunker awkwardly in a squat, trying to pull my pants down far enough to pee without flashing too much ass. I pee as quickly as possible while aiming for an open spot in the cracked floorboards. I feel warm drops hit my toes and notice an unmistakable wet spot forming on my black capris. Brilliant. It’s 2 a.m. I’m stranded somewhere in the middle of Borneo. Alone. More than slightly terrified. And I have just wet myself.

    I crawl into my sleep sack, wrapping my arms around my body as I start to shake uncontrollably. I can’t hold back the tears anymore, and they run silently down my face as I quiver with sobs and fear. There is nothing I want more in the world than to be safe at home in my warm soft bed, snuggled in with my husband under our quilt. Todd. At the thought of him I feel my insides curl into an even tighter knot of hurt, remembering his last words to me…

    "We’re not married anymore. I’m not going to Borneo with you," my husband drunkenly hurls at me before stumbling off to bed. I fall into a chair, face in my hands, tears rolling down my face, my heart aching. ‘Has it finally come to this?’ The last four years have been a nightmare of impossible fights fueled by depression and alcohol, but somewhere inside of me I still believed that we could fix things. ‘We had loved each other so much once. He used to call me his happily ever after. How can he say we’re not married anymore?’ I know we’ve been fighting all week, but I was sure he would go on this trip. I need him to go on this trip. It’s our last chance to save this marriage. I don’t know what to do. Our flight leaves in a few hours.

    I swipe at the tears and snot with a much abused Kleenex and get up to finish packing, using the activity to keep my mind off of the panic that is sitting like acid in my stomach. I pack Todd’s bag, too, throwing in underwear and shirts distractedly while telling myself that he will change his mind when he sobers up. I try to keep his hurtful words from ringing over and over in my head. We’re not married anymore.

    At 5 a.m. I kneel next to the bed in our spare room, shaking my husband awake. He looks at me groggily. Please get up and come with me, I beg as I feel the hot rush of tears starting. Damn. I don’t want to start crying again, but there is no help for it. I feel wretched, because there is a part of me that I fear even acknowledging. A part that hopes he will not go, that I might finally be free of him. That this will be the final turning point, and I will escape a marriage that I feel trapped and bound in both by my vows and by my religion. Yet, I must make this last effort in good faith. Still, I am torn. Half of me desperately wants him to go…and half of me wants to run away. In the end, it does not matter. He will not go. And so I go alone. I have never traveled by myself. My palms are sweaty at the thought, and my heart beats a little too loudly in my chest. But, I have been planning this trip for months. ‘I can do this,’ I tell myself. ‘I can.’

    The memories fade as the first rays of sunlight illuminate my makeshift shelter. I’m definitely not feeling like I can do much of anything as I groggily attempt to stand up. My joints are stiff and cramped from laying on the ground. My eyes are gritty from crying and I have to pee again. I stumble over to a local diner I notice in the growing morning light to get some much needed coffee and to use a real bathroom. Through a series of gestures and repeating the word bus over and over again to the waitress, I determine that some form of transport will be by in about ten minutes. Sure enough, a dodgy looking contraption resembling a bus wheezes in a few minutes later. I jam myself on board with about twenty other locals and a couple tourists. The daylight pushes away the terror and loneliness of the night, and suddenly I smile. I have survived! I’ve not been killed or kidnapped sleeping outside. Maybe I really can do this.

    That night as I’m changing in my hostel dorm room for dinner, I hear a booming, slightly feminine voice that sounds familiar. Turning around in puzzlement, a delighted grin spreads over my face as I recognize John, a flamboyant, outrageous, and super fun gay guy I’d met in Taipei a few months back. Small world. We head out to eat with some friends of his and another couple I’d met. Dinner is an assortment of fresh clams, giant shrimp, and barbequed fish washed down with local Tiger beer. I lounge on the balcony of the restaurant, smoking a clove cigarette feeling content. (Yes, I’d temporarily taken up smoking; I figured everyone has to pick up one bad habit when they contemplate getting divorced.) I close my eyes, inhaling the spicy smoke. After dinner I head out with my new friends to take on the town. As I drift off to sleep sometime in the wee hours of the morning, my head spinning from more than a few beers, I mumble I can do this. I can.

    The next morning I wake up at the ungodly hour of 6:30 to dive Sipadan, a world famous dive site. It’s been on my bucket list for years. I leave everything behind as I deflate my buoyancy control device (BCD) and

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