Pools of tranquility in a sea of scooters hooters.

Confucian antics, sweet milk and sleeper trains. An unusual wedding, wasabi torture and brotherly love. Beach bodies, deep fried pigs intestines and sleeping on the tiled floor.

The final musings of the wandering nomad. I sit in highland coffee the Starbucks of Asia, Westlife beautifully destroying my blissful Asian illusion to the buzz of speaker distortion topped with a blend of coffee grinders.

It feels totally right but painfully wrong. The concept is great. Fresh coffee, comfortable surroundings. Easy going staff. Air conditioning. But just as the AC creates a falsely implied 18c temperature in the humid 40c heats so does this place create a false impression of the nation, the people and the culture surrounding it.

If you scratch below the surface things are not as polished as the appear. Tiles on the floor are cracked, cups are chipped, toilets are dirty, chairs look and feel tired. A rickety ceiling fan whines in tumultuous protest as in the words of a famous Phil Hughes song goes 'round and round again.'

'seeings not believing'... Do I agree?

I think seeing creates unbelieving and relates the reality of truth.
The Singaporean with an Ipad2 verses the Cambodian brushing teeth In the river they empty their filthy waste into.

A 'western' toilet but not quite, built on a substandard drainage system where you no longer squat but heaven forbid you put toilet paper In the toilet and not the conveniently placed pink bin beside it.

Yet the culture cries respect above all else. People employed just to open the door I walk through. The 'have a nice day' culture inherited from our American cousins, what more can we do to make your stay more than described on the back of the cereal box.

I have found you cannot clump Asia as a common place or identity as I once theorised. Thailand differs to Laos with changes in Malaysia and Cambodia not to mention Singapore or Indonesia. Each unique in their own way.

I think respect is more prevalent here. For religion, your surroundings, your elders and family. You see no beggars or strays but you see mounds of rubbish littered with cockroaches.

An oxymoronic society balanced on a bed of fried noodles and sticky rice. Maybe my home is like this? Do I just no longer see the subtleties of my own situation. I return to the pinnacle of tourism, the crown jewel of world events....the fringe, for one whole month Edinburgh rules the world, she swells her massive girth, a grand old dame awakening from slumber in a new dress who sleeps not until fireworks announce the end of the feast. The thought of returning to that sickens me to the depths of my being after the rolling countryside and gentle people of Vietnam. Maybe I can wait it out, hide in my village within a city.

People often rant you don't know what you miss until you are without it.

I long for the cold winds of the reek through the Edinburgh closes, the highland spring water rains. To drink water and brush my teeth from the tap, COLD Guinness on a regular pour from Robbies among kindred spirits. BBQs of Aberdeen Angus with friends (Nate and Laura) rum in the sun (Gaz and Jonboy) or debating fence sitting late into the night (Owen)

Alas the time has come as I stare from my fourth story coffee shop window into the world below.

For all of those who have followed my adventures for the last month thank you for joining me on the journey I hope they have inspired you to see a bit more of our incredible world and after all remember is not where you go but who you meet along the way.

A journey of a thousands miles begins with a single step :)

Mark