Oscar McNicol is currently volunteering in rural Thailand, at a school teaching English, supported in part by a Footprinter Grant from Hazel’s Footprints Trust. Oscar has arranged his volunteer project with Project Trust. Here is his first update, written not long after he arrived in Thailand. The culture shock is tough, but he’s doing brilliantly in overcoming that. We’ve also been enjoying Oscar’s updates on his Instagram account, Oscar Takes on Thailand.
Saying Goodbye and Taking the Leap
On the 12th of September, I woke up at my mum’s house for the very last time. My head was a whirlwind of excitement and ‘what-ifs.’ I tried to take it all in—one last look at the room where so much of my life had unfolded. I smiled at the posters on the walls, each one tied to a memory, like snapshots of who I’d been over the years. But time was slipping away, and I had to get moving. My train to London was leaving Edinburgh Waverley at 7 a.m., and Alex, my best mate, had stayed over so he could give us a lift to the station.
While Alex went to get the car, I faced the hard goodbye—saying goodbye to my brother, his girlfriend, and my sister. I didn’t expect it to be this difficult. As I hugged them, I wanted one of them to tell me not to go, to say, “Stay just a little longer.” But they didn’t. They knew they had to let me go. Somehow, I held it together, but even now, thinking about it makes my chest tighten. As I walked down the stairs of my mum’s flat for the last time, it all came flooding back—the sense of home I had always felt here. If those walls could talk, they’d have plenty of stories to tell, from the chaotic house parties I thought I’d gotten away with to the birthdays that filled the flat with laughter. But it was more than just those big moments. It was the comfort of coming home after a long day, the smell from the bottom of the stairs to my mum’s kitchen, and the way I could just be here, without thinking about anything else. This flat had been my sanctuary. No matter what happened outside, I knew I could walk through that door and everything would be okay. It wasn’t just the place—it was the feeling of being surrounded by people who knew me better than anyone, who loved me without question.
The Journey Begins
When I got into Alex’s car, the silence felt heavy. If you know either of us, that’s a clear sign something’s up. We drove past streets I’d walked down countless times, but everything felt different this time. As my mum pulled my suitcase out of Alex’s car, I said my goodbyes to him. It was easier knowing he’d come visit, but it was still hard to say goodbye. I really miss him already—no one gets me like he does; he’s definitely set the bar high in what a friend should be.
The train to London went by quickly. The journey was smooth, aside from a brief moment of panic when I couldn’t find my wallet. After ten frantic minutes of searching, my mum finally found it in a side pocket of my bag. When we arrived in London, we headed to the hotel, dropped off our bags, and spent the rest of the day wandering around the city. It felt oddly familiar—London was a place my mum and I had spent a lot of time in over the years. Walking around, talking like usual, it almost felt like any other trip. But something was different this time. This wasn’t just a casual visit; London was only a stop on the way to something much bigger—Bangkok. The weight of that sat quietly in the back of my mind all day. We had dinner, but by the time we got back to the hotel, the nerves had really set in. As I lay in bed that night, the excitement I’d been feeling all day was mixed with anxiety. I was about to leave everything I knew behind, and the reality of it all was sinking in. Tomorrow wasn’t just another travel day; it was the start of something completely new. My mind wouldn’t stop racing, thinking about what was to come. Eventually, I fell asleep, but it wasn’t easy with the butterflies in my stomach.
Goodbyes at the Airport
Then I woke up, ready to catch the tube to the airport and meet the other volunteers I was traveling with. Lindsay, my mum’s friend—who I call my second mum—came with us to the airport. Having her there reassured me, not just because my mum and I both have a terrible sense of direction, but also because I felt better knowing someone would be there for my mum. I knew saying goodbye would be hard for both of us, and having Lindsay with her made it a little easier. That was probably the hardest goodbye, not because it was worse than saying goodbye to my dad or siblings, but because it was the final one. My mum, like me, isn’t great at hiding tears, and seeing her like that made it even tougher. I don’t want to dwell on it too much, because even now, it cuts deep. It’s a feeling I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Arriving in Thailand
Afterward, I met the other volunteers, and we headed through security. As usual, the airport was packed, but we managed to make it through. Naturally, we headed straight for a Wetherspoons breakfast like true Brits and swapped stories about our leaving parties. Not to be biased, but I’m pretty sure mine was the best. After breakfast, we waited at the gate and then boarded the plane for Kuala Lumpur—a 12-hour flight that was nothing short of hell. The food was surprisingly delicious, but the turbulence was something else. It was so bumpy, it felt like the plane was mirroring how I was feeling inside—nervous, unsure, and full of ups and downs. We flew through several thunderstorms, and the turbulence was so bad that I didn’t sleep a wink.
When we finally landed in Kuala Lumpur, I was beyond relieved. Our connecting flight to Bangkok was much shorter, only about two hours, and before I knew it, we had arrived. At the airport, we met our country rep, Aydan, who had been a volunteer himself, so he knew exactly how we were feeling.
Settling In and Facing Challenges
We arrived at the hotel, which was absolutely stunning, but in that moment, I was completely overwhelmed. The exhaustion from the long journey and the flood of emotions from all the goodbyes hit me hard. I decided to take a nap, hoping to clear my head and recharge. When I woke up, I felt a bit more grounded and joined the group for a beautiful dinner. The food was incredible, and for the first time, I started to feel a sense of excitement creeping back in.
The next morning, we headed off to Tha Ruae. I wish I could say everything’s been perfect, but it’s been a tough start. Since arriving, I’ve been pretty ill—two colds, constant toothaches that resulted in two teeth being pulled, a round of food poisoning, and the inevitable homesickness. Right now, I’m in Chiang Mai, and it’s such a beautiful city, so I’m hoping my luck turns around. Despite the challenges, I’ve already fallen in love with Thailand—the warmth of the people, the richness of the culture, and of course, the food. There’s something about this place that makes even the hard days worth it.
Learning and Growing
My mum keeps telling me, “This is probably the toughest it will get, so if you can handle this, you can do anything.” And honestly, she’s right. As tough as it’s been at times, I’ve learned so much about myself and what I’m capable of. Thailand, with all its beauty and its challenges, has a way of pushing you—but it also rewards you. Even with all the ups and downs, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. I’m growing stronger, and I’m ready for whatever comes next.
