The moment the warmth of the air touches my skin, my body starts to feel more like itself again.

While most people in Malaysia might be happy to get away from the heat, I actually dread going anywhere that’s not tropical, that’s not humid.

Although I enjoyed Seoul, the weather was a challenge for me. Physically. Only a week or so and my legs are covered in mysterious bruises. My skin acts up in unfamiliar ways.

I was glad to be back in Kuala Lumpur. To feel the air on my skin, warm and heavy with moisture.

“I’m a dragon,” I say to people, as a way of explanation.

When I was living in Melbourne, I could spend up to a week without leaving the house, bundling myself up in warm clothing, staying under the covers. I even did this during spring when I spent a week in Apollo Bay. 19 degrees with sun was not “nice weather” for me.

When visiting my brother in London, I spent a lot of time curled up in his armchair reading, eating chocolate digestives with Earl Grey tea. That was my idea of a proper cold weather holiday – spent indoors.

Home is where the heart is, yes. But for me, home is also where the heat is.

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