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A gentle breeze invites a long, deep breath. I look around to what I have been convinced is paradise reflecting back to me. The melodic sound of the ocean waves drift hypnotically against the warm crisp sand as though themselves whispering “nowhere to be, nowhere to go, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide”. Setting my shaggy hostel towel along a desolate patch of sand, I urge myself to tune into the present moment. “I’m here now, this must be the place” I badger myself, as my mind races with an accumulation of restless thoughts that I had unwillingly transported from the busy streets of Bangkok, or maybe it was Dublin. All I knew for sure was that I had finally found myself in the land of tranquil hippies and ecstatic beach-babes yet I couldn’t have felt further from the picturesque utopia that lay before my eyes. Conversely, the only permeable feeling surrounding me was that of absolute isolation. I had travelled so far to get here, convincing myself of the apparent freedom that awaited me during each transit along the way. “Why, then, do I feel so lost?” I repeatedly ask myself, subtly leering toward the cheerful topless woman to my left, distracted thereafter by the peaceful, clothesless lovers grasping hands along the seafront, wandering softly amid a loving gaze. The effortless tranquility beaming from the Moroccan gentleman laying just 20 metres next to me provokes my own feeling of utter alienation. Divided only by the layers of humility I had carried with me to Koh Phangan’s ‘Naked Beach’ that day, I yearned for nothing more than to taste the freedom these delightful strangers emitted in front of my very eyes. “I don’t belong here” flashed before my mind as the spandex strings of my bikini top began to unravel, almost as though on it’s own brave accord. Beyond the yearning of sunshine upon my skin, I somehow knew that the desire to unveil myself wasn’t that of vanity or pleasure. In defiance against my pestering mind, I allowed gravity to catch my bathing suit as it surrendered itself to the golden sand. Although egotistically using the varied collection of beach bodies as a comparative to my own, I recognized that this bathing battle was never directed toward my appearance, per se. Living as a petite, blue-eyed, blonde girl from the Emerald Isle, I was no stranger to physical attention. What I had become totally estranged with, however, was the union I shared with myself. The sheepishness that overcame me, sitting nakedly on the beach was merely the echo of a leaf fallen from a deeply rooted tree. Alluding to the belief that escaping my busy life, with ever growing responsibility, would equate to the freedom I had been so desperately seeking, I was quickly awoken to the truth that only this Thai salt water - 10,000km from home - could begin to cleanse away. Swaying knee-deep in the ocean, a symphony of ukulele, acoustic guitar and a doting voice penetrates through my being as goosebumps appear on my glistening, naked skin. Failing to recognize whether the rhythmic energy I’m feeling originates from around me or within, a familiar feeling of ‘home’ envelops me. This intrinsic sensation, however, held no relation to any place I had previously travelled. It was at this very moment that I understood our surroundings to be mere reflections of our inner worlds. Languages learned and cultures embraced, flights taken and lovers graced, travelling continues to teach that no destination is really unknown, but rather the journey you take as a person in a bid to get there. I spun around to greet the sun as an involuntary smile swept upon my cheek. Contradicting my earlier statement, “No, this is the place.” Like waves that drift hypnotically along the sandy beach, travelling is the one current that welcomes us all home.