Broken by Betsy Reavley

Author:Betsy Reavley [Reavley, Betsy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books

The next morning we woke at the crack of dawn and pulled back the curtains to reveal a dark cloud of smog. We were both shattered, but the prospect of being on a beach in a few hours kept us going. We made our way to reception and checked out, heading off in the direction of departures. This world was a man-made mess of buildings and I felt small wandering through the busy terminal, pushing the stubborn trolley. Jude fiddled about, searching for our tickets and passports.

Once we had checked in we were ushered through to the departure lounge. A little time passed before we found ourselves in our grey, carpeted seats preparing for take-off. I was a nervous flyer, having had a traumatic experience with turbulence a few years earlier on a trip to Italy. I gripped my armrests and braced myself as the engines roared and we taxied down the runway. Jude laughed and put his hand over mine – I felt reassured by his touch.

The long flight was uneventful. I noticed Jude admiring one of the female flight attendants and told him I would have made an effort to flirt with one of the male staff if they hadn’t all been gay. He laughed, as did a woman nearby who’d been listening. The food was typically dreary and the in-flight movies predictably dull. For the majority of the journey, Jude slept, his head rolling from side to side; I pulled out a book from my bag and read it from cover to cover. The story scared me but I couldn’t put it down.

Bangkok airport didn’t leave much to be desired: it was clean and clinical inside. Some international travellers wore facemasks, a hang-up from the bird flu scare years ago. I looked outside but couldn’t see past the runway, pollution hung in the air, carrying a distinctive, rotten smell. You could see the heat – it wasn’t only the jet fuel that was responsible for the haze – it was also the humidity. Our journey wasn’t done yet. We still had to get from Bangkok to the island where we were staying. After collecting our luggage and going through the rigorous obstacle of customs, we made our way out of the airport. Stepping out onto the tarmac in the evening darkness, we were blanketed by warm, humid air. Every bone in my body ached and I tried to shift my feelings of discomfort.

It was a chore locating the minibus that would take us to the resort, but eventually we found it and loaded our luggage on board. It was small and cramped, with few other passengers. Jude and I collapsed into our seats. The refreshing blast of the air conditioning showered our skin as the minibus pulled away.

We rattled down one of the fast roads, through the city: palm trees and exotic shrubs grew on the verges; large advertising posters separated the two sides of the bypass. Parts of the metropolis were elaborate and ornate, others grotty and downtrodden.

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