Going Homer

I have finished Homer's Odyssey, and have decided to elevate my standard of language and frequency of classical references. I have cast off the superfluous ejaculations of youth and have become as a man, like the thoughtful Telemachus, when he fought with Zeus' favourite, the lion-hearted Odysseus and his father, the steadfast Laertes. It was with this in mind when I set off, bound for Vang Vieng.

As Dawn appeared, fresh and rosy-fingered, I acquired a chariot and departed the happy home I had enjoyed in Luang Prabang. I approached Vang Vieng from the North, helped by a strong wind raised by the mighty earth-shaker Poseidon. Thereupon, I rested for some days, enjoying the warm hospitality offered there. I feasted like a king, on the fattest calves, and the wine flowed ceaselessly. And when the libations had sufficiently addled my wits, I would return to my bed, where the aegis-bearing Athene would close my eyes in blissful sleep until golden-throned Dawn would appear once more.

Alas, I grew restless once more on my long journey home and once more set off from my kind hosts. This time, with a favourable wind, I found myself in Vientiane, the capital of the country of the Laotians. This citadel has little to recommend it to a weary traveller on his way home. Zeus, who marshals the clouds, has seen fit to conjure a dark storm on the distant horizon.

I will arise and go on the morrow and will fly to Bangkok, like Hermes, the keen-eyed Giant-slayer, flies to Hades.

Tobius.