#53 Your Slow Sunday Scroll ☕️
back from my hols! a round-up of books/pods/links/inspo
Hi, I have missed you! I’ve just returned from three weeks in Vietnam. I’m back at my desk now, catching up on emails and admin and burning incense in a little gold turtle holder I bought in Ho Chi Minh City (similar one here). Three weeks away felt surprisingly long. Which makes sense: when you’re somewhere new, your brain is processing lots of new information. Apparently, the longer the processing takes, the longer that period of time feels. My sister messaged me saying “that was quick!” when I told her I was on the flight home the other day, and I thought: “really? I feel like I’ve been away for A YEAR. SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED.”
I felt incredibly lucky to have dipped out for most of January, elongating the state of denial about returning to work post-Christmas. I kept a journal the whole time I was away, writing every night in bed about the new experiences (the hikes, getting lost, the sleeper trains, the wonderful people we met). I am working on a post called "the unInstagrammable reality of travelling” because I feel like Instagram has kind of ruined ‘travelling’ as a concept. Instagram is full of people sharing perfect-looking ‘hotspots’ ruined by selfie-sticks, focusing mainly on producing envy-inducing Reels, or pictures of yet another infinity pool, but I want to hear about the real bits of travelling — how you got there, whether it’s actually good, what the breakfast was like, where the local pharmacies are. (I was disgustingly sick for the first week of the trip and spent many a Vietnamese đồng on throat spray, cough tablets, paracetamol: sexy.)
Following stints in Ho Chi Minh, Da Nang, Hoi An, Ninh Binh, Halong Bay and Sa Pa, our last destination of the trip was Hanoi, the capital city of Vietnam. It was fun being in a city again, grabbing street-food and takeaway coffees after spending time in beautiful middle-of-nowhere nature. We enjoyed visiting the Temple of Literature and learning more about Confucius, ate delicious bao buns, had multiple massages (one woman clicked my neck and I cried not from pain but from the release). I adored the culture, spotting gold Buddhas everywhere, the food (Bun Cha, new favourite!), the friendliness, the people, the scenery. It felt freeing to be away, enjoying warmer weather with a suitcase of plain clothes and wearing no make-up, but during those few days at the end of the trip, I just wanted to be home again. I felt guilty and ungrateful about this, as I feasted on yet another hotel breakfast, but I was over it. I didn’t need five different egg options.
I wanted to wear my London clothes again. I missed my bookshelves. I missed all the silly simple domesticities (that I so enjoyed doing today): boiling the kettle, sitting on the sofa with a hot water bottle, making toast, the view of the full moon from my bathroom window, the new season of The Traitors (and Claudia Winkleman’s outfits *chef’s kiss*), getting milk from my corner shop, putting the washing on, sorting through my mail, lying in my own bed. Heaven. I have realised that one of the main reasons I love going away is because I love coming home again. Which makes no sense and total sense.
It was technically our belated honeymoon (we got married two years ago) and the brief was “adventure”. We wanted to make the sort of memories that turn into private jokes or brilliant stories years later. Many parts were very classically honeymoon-y (a swan made of towels on our bed at Halong Bay, beach sunsets, mountain views and a deep wooden bath tub in Sa Pa), but — another reality of the trip — out of the 21 days we had together, Paul and I also spent some days apart. Not because we had an argument or anything, just because we are two humans who also like our own space. A part of my ongoing burnout recovery is noticing when I need time alone to digest, rest, read, be very quiet and still. And not apologising for it.
There was one day in Ninh Binh when I stayed in our little eco lodge and caught up with some reading (Substack mainly and Clover Stroud’s new book) and just sat out on the balcony and took in the quietness of the view with just the sounds of birds and mountain goats to keep me company. Paul rented a motorbike and went on an adventure, exploring caves and pagodas. Over dinner we were so happy to be reunited and tell each other about our day. He did loads, I did nothing. I think this should be normalised: being in a happy marriage and needing alone time, even on your honeymoon.
Since leaving social media behind more, my Internet experience is so much more joyful these days — and these Sunday Scrolls are full of those joyful nuggets I stumble across (links, podcasts, TV, articles). If you love to create new things, it’s important to keep that creative inspiration burning. These Sunday Scrolls remind me of the good old days of the Internet — finding things that light you up and make you think. Please also feel free to share what you’re currently enjoying in the comments, too. Hope you enjoy this issue.