SATURDAY
Leaving the City
Part Nine of Sister-kind
There’s this sixth sense that kicks in right at the end of your sleep cycle, the mental alarm clock already triggered so that you know even before that alarm bell goes off that it’s time to get up and go. So when the phone rings I’m not even a bit surprised, I go to answer it like I’m ready, but instead I wait, open my eyes a little more, then pause, taking a moment to swallow clearing my throat, I grab the handset whispering ”Hello?” and then hear the automated voice of a young lady telling me that “the time now is 6.30am”
And so it begins, the stumble to the bathroom played to the tune of a walrus mating call, my back cheeks clapping which is a prelude to the unloosening of collected storage from my lower colon.
I snap and wave goodbye to brown town and shower, cleaning every part twice over, I hate feeling unclean before taking a flight, though once you’ve arrived it’s like you’ve been coated with this invisible layer of yuck. All skin cells clinging with this tinge that removes any sense of hygiene. I towel off folding all of towels and bathmat, placing it on the side of the bathtub, I leave it there and at the mirror I throw on some Carolina Herrera 212 EDT splash on and proceed to brush my teeth.
Dressing now and I’m calm, all the time and worry spent the night before seems to have paid off nicely, there is no need to hurry, I’m ahead of schedule.
I’m wearing my chinos and the golfing Ralph Lauren polo top with my NB urban hikers. Once I’ve laced up, I do a quick pat down check, wallet, passport, papers - check, then tuck my toiletries bag into my Berghaus backpack which will be my carry on, then do a last minute idiot check around the room making sure everything has been cleared out, all the trash is in the bin, my bed linen is folded into a neat square for housekeeping and there’s nothing of mine that isn’t packed away or any unsightly mess. I take a moment to look around the room for the last time, while doing so I look back to the bureau and think to call Jeff to say goodbye, but it’s still very early and he’s leaving much later than I am so there really isn’t any point in bothering him.
I’m wearing my chinos and the golfing Ralph Lauren polo top with my NB urban hikers. Once I’ve laced up, I do a quick pat down check, wallet, passport, papers - check, then tuck my toiletries bag into my Berghaus backpack which will be my carry on, then do a last minute idiot check around the room making sure everything has been cleared out, all the trash is in the bin, my bed linen is folded into a neat square for housekeeping and there’s nothing of mine that isn’t packed away or any unsightly mess. I take a moment to look around the room for the last time, while doing so I look back to the bureau and think to call Jeff to say goodbye, but it’s still very early and he’s leaving much later than I am so there really isn’t any point in bothering him.
 |
| My shopping bags |
 |
| Many pairs of shoes were bought |
Once this is completed the concierge says, “We hope to see you again soon”, but I don’t say anything, instead I smile and wave politely knowing that I will be back here someday soon.
Outside there are no taxis and the taxi I had arranged hasn’t arrived and the taxi rank manager offers to call the driver to see how far away he is. While he does this he says I should go inside and take a seat, so I do that choosing to sit at a table off to the side of the lounge and on the table is today’s newspaper. But after just a short scan of the front page the taxi has arrived, the driver takes my bag and I thank the taxi rank manager for all his help during the week and I’m off to the airport.
The trip to the airport is quicker than my arrival a week earlier, the freeway is mostly clear of outbound traffic, it’s a Saturday morning and the city hasn’t awakened properly yet. My driver is pretty quiet, he only talks to me a few times to ensure that its KLIA and not LCCT that I want to go to, I know the situation he’s attempting to avoid and I reassure him each and every time he asks me that we’re heading to KLIA. We don’t talk and I look out of my window at the jungle and I still cannot get over how thick it is, so dense, so green, so different to the Australian bush and this is just beautiful by comparison. When we get to the departures gates he lets me out and unloads my suitcase from the back, I heft my back pack onto my shoulder, looking rather casual with it hanging off my arm, I adjust my sunglasses centring the Ray Ban aviators high on my nose, meanwhile my driver extends the carry handle on my suitcase and motions it towards for me to take hold. As I do this he smiles and I have the sudden notion to give him a hug, but I don’t, he continues to smile at me pleasantly and I walk away somehow feeling as though I’ll be genuinely missed.
The trip to the airport is quicker than my arrival a week earlier, the freeway is mostly clear of outbound traffic, it’s a Saturday morning and the city hasn’t awakened properly yet. My driver is pretty quiet, he only talks to me a few times to ensure that its KLIA and not LCCT that I want to go to, I know the situation he’s attempting to avoid and I reassure him each and every time he asks me that we’re heading to KLIA. We don’t talk and I look out of my window at the jungle and I still cannot get over how thick it is, so dense, so green, so different to the Australian bush and this is just beautiful by comparison. When we get to the departures gates he lets me out and unloads my suitcase from the back, I heft my back pack onto my shoulder, looking rather casual with it hanging off my arm, I adjust my sunglasses centring the Ray Ban aviators high on my nose, meanwhile my driver extends the carry handle on my suitcase and motions it towards for me to take hold. As I do this he smiles and I have the sudden notion to give him a hug, but I don’t, he continues to smile at me pleasantly and I walk away somehow feeling as though I’ll be genuinely missed.
It’s not until I’m inside the airport looking for the Malaysian airlines counter that it dawns on me that the warm smiles were more than likely in the hope of some generous tip. This is classic Me, unaware of the custom, never quite sure of the proper etiquette, I roll on and look up to LCD display panels scanning for my flight number. It’s a search by numbers to connect to the correct check in gate and this takes an unusual amount of time, so much so I’m still unsure when I get over to the Malaysian Airlines pontoon that this is the right place for my flight home.
Within the Malaysian Airlines area I go to an automated ticketing machine and place my passport down face first to be scanned and then go through several touch screen prompts that asks me to enter my flight details, my passport number, my name etc but when I’m certain that I’m at the end of this process the machine kinda goes bat shit like it’s stuck, and the result is that it doesn’t complete it’s program cycle all the way through. So when I go at it a second time around to confirm my place for the flight it’s buggered up by saying that I’ve already checked in and won’t issue me a
e-ticket.
Okay, don’t panic, that’s the first rule, I find my way to the general luggage check in and join the tapered maze of queues that lead towards the luggage check in counter. I line up and I manage to get to the front within 15 minutes which is by some miracle that one flight got routed to another check-in counter and this speeds up my place in the line considerably.
When I get there I tell a young lady what has happened and she takes it all in her stride like it’s nothing new, she follows her well practised routine, asking for my flight number, name, passport, she does a quick check and hands it back, then she asks me to put my suitcase onto the scales, she rolls it forward on the rubber treadmill and the weight reads out in large red LED’s that it’s 21.5kg, I tense up knowing the weight allowance is 20kg, but the Malaysian Airlines counter clerk does little more than sigh ever so slightly, she decides to let it through as she can’t be bothered charging me for the extra amount, instead she wishes me well and I’m on my way.
e-ticket.
Okay, don’t panic, that’s the first rule, I find my way to the general luggage check in and join the tapered maze of queues that lead towards the luggage check in counter. I line up and I manage to get to the front within 15 minutes which is by some miracle that one flight got routed to another check-in counter and this speeds up my place in the line considerably.
When I get there I tell a young lady what has happened and she takes it all in her stride like it’s nothing new, she follows her well practised routine, asking for my flight number, name, passport, she does a quick check and hands it back, then she asks me to put my suitcase onto the scales, she rolls it forward on the rubber treadmill and the weight reads out in large red LED’s that it’s 21.5kg, I tense up knowing the weight allowance is 20kg, but the Malaysian Airlines counter clerk does little more than sigh ever so slightly, she decides to let it through as she can’t be bothered charging me for the extra amount, instead she wishes me well and I’m on my way.
I don’t linger at the main terminal building instead I pass by a few stores I’d have probably liked to have looked at if I had more time, more spending money, plus more energy. It’s early and the need is to get over to the Satellite building where my plane is departing from at 9.30am. I pass by the first checkpoint where there are armed beret wearing guards, this sends a shiver down my spine, I dunno why exactly, it’s not as though trouble seems to find me, but the automatic weapons are a bit off putting. I can’t deny that there’s the playful interest that makes you want to touch the weapon, then there’s the fear of the guard not being able to read my mind and know the mad shit I’m thinking. The guards are checking tickets, I get mine ready and he looks at my ticket with little interest and then asks to check my passport which I hand over diligently, he looks at it quick and try’s his best to smile back at me as he hands it back, I take it back wearily and I know I’ve got no reason to be nervous at all but armed men, police, army whatever fuck my shit up, I dunno what it is, fear of cops, fear of guns, whatever it’s the idea that something bad could happen and I want to be nowhere near it when, if, it ever does.
The monorail link is still out of action so I go find a bus that takes me over to the satellite terminal and then do some legwork to find the gate for my departure. After riding travelators I get to the very end of the satellite terminal, it’s the furthest point to the east on the map and when I get there I discover that the gate hasn’t actually opened yet, so I think back to more immediate needs, do I take another shit or do I go find some breakfast.
I roam around on travelators moon walking backwards, basically goofing around, I walk by people that are asleep on the bench style lounges, some lay stretched out, others rolled into balls, but all with their bags tucked up under their arms. I see lovers entwined pretzel like around each other, their bags in between them like a new born baby or beloved pet. I think to get out my camera but can’t be bothered with the effort required. I get back to the intersection of the T in the Satellite terminal and go up a glass elevator and on the upper floor notice that Burger King is open and I go inside and spend less than RM10 for a chicken burger, fries and raspberry Fanta. I sit next to some girls just out of their teens or maybe early twenties and off to side are couples around my age who look fucked and bored. I eat slowly, taking my time, I use the ketchup for my fries, something we never get offered here at home, the burger and drink goes down well and I check my G-Shock and realise I still have under an hour to kill.
The monorail link is still out of action so I go find a bus that takes me over to the satellite terminal and then do some legwork to find the gate for my departure. After riding travelators I get to the very end of the satellite terminal, it’s the furthest point to the east on the map and when I get there I discover that the gate hasn’t actually opened yet, so I think back to more immediate needs, do I take another shit or do I go find some breakfast.
I roam around on travelators moon walking backwards, basically goofing around, I walk by people that are asleep on the bench style lounges, some lay stretched out, others rolled into balls, but all with their bags tucked up under their arms. I see lovers entwined pretzel like around each other, their bags in between them like a new born baby or beloved pet. I think to get out my camera but can’t be bothered with the effort required. I get back to the intersection of the T in the Satellite terminal and go up a glass elevator and on the upper floor notice that Burger King is open and I go inside and spend less than RM10 for a chicken burger, fries and raspberry Fanta. I sit next to some girls just out of their teens or maybe early twenties and off to side are couples around my age who look fucked and bored. I eat slowly, taking my time, I use the ketchup for my fries, something we never get offered here at home, the burger and drink goes down well and I check my G-Shock and realise I still have under an hour to kill.
I walk out of Burger King and walk past Harrods, which is reduced to the size of a small kiosk, then walk around other stores that are apparently closed as well. I wander back towards my gate and find that a small store about the size of a walk in wardrobe has opened, they sell sarongs, things made from glass crystal and other trinkets made from pewter, like the Petronas towers, it’s all trash, but I buy a few pieces of this n’ that, hoping that the choice I’ve settled on will please my mum. I make small talk with the girl at the counter, she’s nice enough but bored and disinterested in talking about anything in particular. I bag it up and walk to my gate stopping to take a piss and then when I get to my gate I find that they’ve opened up the waiting lounge and so I go inside and chill.
There’s a few screens rolling through info-mercial bullshit but sadly no TV shows, no local news, nothing but Ads, plus there’s no magazines or newspapers. I dunno how I manage to pass time but it waits for no man, so in nothing but a bit we’re being called for the flight. First class is called up first which is then followed for those in economy, starting with the back rows. I’m in row 40, a window seat, and as I walk to the very back end of the plane I’m thinking I’ll have this all to myself, but No, tucked behind the seat is a tiny Asian lady that doesn’t even have to get up to let me slide past her to get to the window seat. I get comfy and start rifling through in flight magazines and play with the TV remote and start flicking through the channels to see what movies and TV shows are on offer. I dunno why I should be expecting it to be different since I’ve only been gone a week, but I eventually settle on a episode of 30 Rock I’ve seen before and then after 5 minutes I switch to the movie Inception. The stewardess comes over and asks did I want the newspaper and I pass, instead I ask her for some water and in a jiffy she comes back with a small plastic tumbler filled with iced water. I take a valium out of the coin purse of my wallet and swallow it down, it clings to the roof of my mouth and I get that chalk taste, but I’m used to the chalk taste of valium so it no longer bothers me as it might other people.
In a few minutes we’re at take-off speed and i’m grinning like a mongoloid, I love air travel, well take off at least. The stinking toilets, the other passengers, the hobby kit sized meals you can keep, but gimmie that sweet looking female bringing my food, drinks, extra pillows and stuff and i’m happy as fuck. We get into breakfast and I get this warmed up death mix of eggs, sausages and hot coffee. It’s filtered coffee, percolated espresso, I take it black which is unusual for coffee that hasn’t been infused, I’m fussy like that, but not this morning. I eat about half of what’s put in front of me and with my belly full, I roll over the side and doze for about an hour.
When I awake I’ve got the embalmed belly effect from the drugs, but my neck is loose, I’m not tensed up and to my surprise the seat next to me is empty, our little Asian woman has relocated to another seat somewhere in the middle. The stewardess walks by and asks me if I want something to drink and I ask what she has, she runs down some drinks and I end up choosing a Carlsberg. I sip it straight from the can and find the remote wand that is tethered to a coiled cable, you know an older analogue telephone cord, it looks like that. I notice that the movie I chose is still on pause and I go back to it. While the first scenes of Inception play out I open the in flight magazine and scan for shit I might buy from the shopping cart. I ask for a pen and circle the things I like, the Davidoff number 5 cigarillos and the 1 litre bottle of Chivas Regal are a must have. I leave the magazine open in the empty seat next to me as I’m certain to buy something when they get into shopping time. I finish my beer and after less than 30 mins into the film I somehow manage to pass out again.
There’s a few screens rolling through info-mercial bullshit but sadly no TV shows, no local news, nothing but Ads, plus there’s no magazines or newspapers. I dunno how I manage to pass time but it waits for no man, so in nothing but a bit we’re being called for the flight. First class is called up first which is then followed for those in economy, starting with the back rows. I’m in row 40, a window seat, and as I walk to the very back end of the plane I’m thinking I’ll have this all to myself, but No, tucked behind the seat is a tiny Asian lady that doesn’t even have to get up to let me slide past her to get to the window seat. I get comfy and start rifling through in flight magazines and play with the TV remote and start flicking through the channels to see what movies and TV shows are on offer. I dunno why I should be expecting it to be different since I’ve only been gone a week, but I eventually settle on a episode of 30 Rock I’ve seen before and then after 5 minutes I switch to the movie Inception. The stewardess comes over and asks did I want the newspaper and I pass, instead I ask her for some water and in a jiffy she comes back with a small plastic tumbler filled with iced water. I take a valium out of the coin purse of my wallet and swallow it down, it clings to the roof of my mouth and I get that chalk taste, but I’m used to the chalk taste of valium so it no longer bothers me as it might other people.
In a few minutes we’re at take-off speed and i’m grinning like a mongoloid, I love air travel, well take off at least. The stinking toilets, the other passengers, the hobby kit sized meals you can keep, but gimmie that sweet looking female bringing my food, drinks, extra pillows and stuff and i’m happy as fuck. We get into breakfast and I get this warmed up death mix of eggs, sausages and hot coffee. It’s filtered coffee, percolated espresso, I take it black which is unusual for coffee that hasn’t been infused, I’m fussy like that, but not this morning. I eat about half of what’s put in front of me and with my belly full, I roll over the side and doze for about an hour.
When I awake I’ve got the embalmed belly effect from the drugs, but my neck is loose, I’m not tensed up and to my surprise the seat next to me is empty, our little Asian woman has relocated to another seat somewhere in the middle. The stewardess walks by and asks me if I want something to drink and I ask what she has, she runs down some drinks and I end up choosing a Carlsberg. I sip it straight from the can and find the remote wand that is tethered to a coiled cable, you know an older analogue telephone cord, it looks like that. I notice that the movie I chose is still on pause and I go back to it. While the first scenes of Inception play out I open the in flight magazine and scan for shit I might buy from the shopping cart. I ask for a pen and circle the things I like, the Davidoff number 5 cigarillos and the 1 litre bottle of Chivas Regal are a must have. I leave the magazine open in the empty seat next to me as I’m certain to buy something when they get into shopping time. I finish my beer and after less than 30 mins into the film I somehow manage to pass out again.
When I wake up the flight attendant is handing me a chocolate ice-cream bar, I ask her about the shopping cart and she says I missed it an hour ago, I ask her can I still get something and she says unfortunately No they’re not allowed past a certain point. I don’t understand why it has to be so but at the same time I don’t pester the stewardess with my first world problems by complaining or getting worked up over nothing important. I somehow manage to drip chocolate onto my new polo top and as i’m still a bit stoned I put it to my mouth to attempt to remove the chocolate from staining, this sort of works but I look like such a spaz while doing it so I stop.
I replay Inception, watch for an hour then doze off again, in doing this I never actually see the finished film, but I hear the score at the end of the film which is a powerful piece and that wakes me up just in time to hear the Captains voice. He makes his announcement in three different languages and I try and make out words he says in Malaysian which to me sounds like – “kuala bang, silly selmat bang bang, we hope you have enjoyed a little Malaysian hospitality from all of us at Malaysian airlines, kuala kuala silly bang bang”.
Before we land we’re issued these declaration forms for Australian customs that give you the run down on what you can and can’t bring back into the country. After filling out my card I get up and use the toilet to piss, when I emerge from the toilet we’re preparing for touch down. Looking out my window I can see that we’re still miles out from the runway, I see country houses, farms, which I imagine are somewhere beyond Armadale or somewhere near Forest Field, it feels like we’re hovering just above the tree line, every once in a while we see a pool in someone’s backyard and I’m anticipating our arrival at the airport any second. I’m already buckled up and ready for the landing, this is the part that I love and hate at the same time. So when the wheels make contact and the flaps change to help begin the braking procedure I start to relax a little, while at the same time the thought flashing through my head is probably the same one on every other passengers mind,
“We made it”.
I replay Inception, watch for an hour then doze off again, in doing this I never actually see the finished film, but I hear the score at the end of the film which is a powerful piece and that wakes me up just in time to hear the Captains voice. He makes his announcement in three different languages and I try and make out words he says in Malaysian which to me sounds like – “kuala bang, silly selmat bang bang, we hope you have enjoyed a little Malaysian hospitality from all of us at Malaysian airlines, kuala kuala silly bang bang”.
Before we land we’re issued these declaration forms for Australian customs that give you the run down on what you can and can’t bring back into the country. After filling out my card I get up and use the toilet to piss, when I emerge from the toilet we’re preparing for touch down. Looking out my window I can see that we’re still miles out from the runway, I see country houses, farms, which I imagine are somewhere beyond Armadale or somewhere near Forest Field, it feels like we’re hovering just above the tree line, every once in a while we see a pool in someone’s backyard and I’m anticipating our arrival at the airport any second. I’m already buckled up and ready for the landing, this is the part that I love and hate at the same time. So when the wheels make contact and the flaps change to help begin the braking procedure I start to relax a little, while at the same time the thought flashing through my head is probably the same one on every other passengers mind,
“We made it”.
When we disembark the plane we’re immediately herded towards a baggage collection area and then on to customs. I’m in line and I’ve got my customs declaration card we’ve been asked to fill out all ready to hand in, then a customs officer stops me and asks to see my card, he checks it and says “You can just go on through mate”, he unclips the seatbelt railing, thereby taking me out of the line and bypassing the bag check procedure. I’m sort of confused, he says,” You’re right mate go on”
I pass by others still waiting in line and the scowl on their faces says it all - Why? How? I shrug my shoulders and look at people getting their suit cases tipped upside down and I feel kinda sorry for them....for about half a second, suckers.
Once I’m through these double doors I come out of the customs area and immediately I can see my Mum, Uncle John and my mum’s hubby John B standing together as a group. I go on and give Mum a big hug and shake hands with John B and my Uncle John. I look around for my mate Jason who is nowhere in sight, he’s meant to be picking me up here this afternoon. I try and use my mobile but the battery has since gone flat and I can’t recall his phone number. I’m ready to panic, it’s an iPhone and I’ll need a paper clip to remove the sim chip and put that into my Uncles phone, except their phones are both carrier locked so I realise that a phone call is impossible. We stand there as a group and I look for Jason but don’t see him and after a while of waiting, say 20 minutes, I decide that he must have had some serious pain the night before, (post op surgery) and that he might be sleeping it off. With some reluctance I decide to go get a taxi home but Mum and the two John’s make the offer of driving me home to the South. It’s an offer I can hardly refuse, the drive is at least an hour and that time travelled in a Perth taxi could be upwards of $70 easily.
I pass by others still waiting in line and the scowl on their faces says it all - Why? How? I shrug my shoulders and look at people getting their suit cases tipped upside down and I feel kinda sorry for them....for about half a second, suckers.
Once I’m through these double doors I come out of the customs area and immediately I can see my Mum, Uncle John and my mum’s hubby John B standing together as a group. I go on and give Mum a big hug and shake hands with John B and my Uncle John. I look around for my mate Jason who is nowhere in sight, he’s meant to be picking me up here this afternoon. I try and use my mobile but the battery has since gone flat and I can’t recall his phone number. I’m ready to panic, it’s an iPhone and I’ll need a paper clip to remove the sim chip and put that into my Uncles phone, except their phones are both carrier locked so I realise that a phone call is impossible. We stand there as a group and I look for Jason but don’t see him and after a while of waiting, say 20 minutes, I decide that he must have had some serious pain the night before, (post op surgery) and that he might be sleeping it off. With some reluctance I decide to go get a taxi home but Mum and the two John’s make the offer of driving me home to the South. It’s an offer I can hardly refuse, the drive is at least an hour and that time travelled in a Perth taxi could be upwards of $70 easily.
We head home to my place, along the way the telling of stories begins, tales of adventure and mayhem in a foreign land. There’s a lot of laughing, I have my mother’s dark sense of humour and she gets it, the gags, the wickedness and slight mischievousness to it all. Entering my flat the place looks somehow different, the air is stale, it just sort of hangs there and I notice that there’s a fine layer of dust in some places and when I go back to my bedroom to change my shirt I notice that the bed is stripped, it weird’s me out as I’d forgotten I’d done that and yet it’s only been a week.
The telling of stories continues over coffee. I have to use long life milk which doesn’t bother my folks too much, I hook up my iPhone and put it on charge, then give my mum a scarf wrap thing I’d bought from the store at the Satellite terminal. She seems happy enough with the gesture and is just pleased to have me home in one piece. After a while they realise the time and I walk them out to the car, there we hug and make arrangements to catch up next week for my birthday.
The telling of stories continues over coffee. I have to use long life milk which doesn’t bother my folks too much, I hook up my iPhone and put it on charge, then give my mum a scarf wrap thing I’d bought from the store at the Satellite terminal. She seems happy enough with the gesture and is just pleased to have me home in one piece. After a while they realise the time and I walk them out to the car, there we hug and make arrangements to catch up next week for my birthday.
After they go and I go back inside my place, do the dusting, wash the cups, remake the bed, unpack everything, put a load of washing on and then I call Jason. I get his wife Jenny on the phone and we talk for a while and she explains how I managed to have missed Jason at the airport, she tells me that he’ll be home soon and then before I hang up he comes walking in through the door and she’s telling me, “Hang on here he is”. Jason explains he was doing laps of the car park hoping to find me but he didn’t think to come inside the airport. I can’t blame him, we just never discussed the arrangements for the pick up, I also confess that I should have found a way to charge my handset so that I could have given him a call, but since his number was stored on an otherwise flat phone that wasn’t going to happen. He laughs it off like it’s not a problem, Jason is good like that, ever looking forward and staying positive. He tells me to come over so we can yap on about the trip. So, I grab my car keys and I go to Jason’s to retell the story.
For souvenirs I give Jason and Jenny cigarettes and give the kids some coins i’d saved. Hey, it’s the thought that counts. I give Jenny a packet of Marlboro Lights and give Jason a packet of Lucky Strikes, they ask me how much these were and I explain that these were bought for fun on the off chance when I was pissed I actually felt like a cigarette. I explain, “It happens sometimes”, and then I give Jason a sci-fi hobby kit that I’d bought from the XL Shop, it’s a 1:35 scale Gundam kit, it’s like some gyro copter thing, with these huge fans that sit underneath a motorbike like chassis for the pilot. He likes the kit a lot and says “Thanks”.
Jenny & Jason smoke the new cigarettes and Jason decides that Lucky Strikes are superb, he try’s the Marlboro Lights and likes the taste of these and mentions that, “We’re not allowed to call these ‘Lights’ over here”. I’m surprised, but then I don’t smoke. Jason goes on to compare the two brands he says that, “Lucky’s are the best”, then adds, “The next time you go mate, Can you bring us back a carton?” and I say that ‘I might’ because given that there’s a limit on the amount of tobacco you can bring back into the country (and as I had wanted to buy some cigarillos on the way home but fell asleep), I still might wanna get some tobacco products for my own bad self. But then again the price of cigarettes in KL is so ridiculously cheap I could Jason a real favour if I were to buy him cigarettes, a maximum of 250 cigarettes being allowed, so again I say to Jason, “I might”.
Jenny disappears into the kitchen and makes dinner, tonite it’s her world famous McJenny burgers which are a heart attack special. I absolutely destroy my burger and relish at the taste of real bacon, I even savour the taste so much so that I take the time to pick the bacon caught between my incisors and afterwards we eat desert together, a Sara Lee cheesecake.
We talk long into the night, I retell some of the best bits that I’ve shared here and also grumble a little over some of the limitations. The limitations are nobody’s fault really, though the next time I g overseas I’m certain that I’ll be a lot more adventurous instead of being overly so cautious, and maybe just maybe I’ll ease up a tad and trust myself to retain that basic common sense, and I know that if you’re sensible about it no matter what city you’re in, nothing should really stop you from having a lot more fun, just keep your wits about you.
Sometime in the middle of our conversation Jenny and Jason suggest that they would like to join me the next time I go overseas, this is of course dependant on a few things. I’m completely wowed at the thought that we might all travel together; which to me it would be the next best thing to actually travelling with my sister. Jason and Jenny know how to spoil themselves nicely, they don’t go without in life and have time and time again demonstrated to me that life is for the living, money is there to be spent, and sometimes it’s okay to spoil yourself and have nice things and to be comfortable.
Jenny & Jason smoke the new cigarettes and Jason decides that Lucky Strikes are superb, he try’s the Marlboro Lights and likes the taste of these and mentions that, “We’re not allowed to call these ‘Lights’ over here”. I’m surprised, but then I don’t smoke. Jason goes on to compare the two brands he says that, “Lucky’s are the best”, then adds, “The next time you go mate, Can you bring us back a carton?” and I say that ‘I might’ because given that there’s a limit on the amount of tobacco you can bring back into the country (and as I had wanted to buy some cigarillos on the way home but fell asleep), I still might wanna get some tobacco products for my own bad self. But then again the price of cigarettes in KL is so ridiculously cheap I could Jason a real favour if I were to buy him cigarettes, a maximum of 250 cigarettes being allowed, so again I say to Jason, “I might”.
Jenny disappears into the kitchen and makes dinner, tonite it’s her world famous McJenny burgers which are a heart attack special. I absolutely destroy my burger and relish at the taste of real bacon, I even savour the taste so much so that I take the time to pick the bacon caught between my incisors and afterwards we eat desert together, a Sara Lee cheesecake.
We talk long into the night, I retell some of the best bits that I’ve shared here and also grumble a little over some of the limitations. The limitations are nobody’s fault really, though the next time I g overseas I’m certain that I’ll be a lot more adventurous instead of being overly so cautious, and maybe just maybe I’ll ease up a tad and trust myself to retain that basic common sense, and I know that if you’re sensible about it no matter what city you’re in, nothing should really stop you from having a lot more fun, just keep your wits about you.
Sometime in the middle of our conversation Jenny and Jason suggest that they would like to join me the next time I go overseas, this is of course dependant on a few things. I’m completely wowed at the thought that we might all travel together; which to me it would be the next best thing to actually travelling with my sister. Jason and Jenny know how to spoil themselves nicely, they don’t go without in life and have time and time again demonstrated to me that life is for the living, money is there to be spent, and sometimes it’s okay to spoil yourself and have nice things and to be comfortable.
I’m filled with the excitement of future travel possibilities; oh it would be a wonderful thing if we could all go away together, maybe someday soon, maybe.
By the time we’re done with our coffee’s it’s well into Sunday morning, at this point i’m kinda talked out so I say goodnight to Jenny and Jason and drive home. Along the way I realise that even despite all of my meticulous planning, all the reading I’d done educate myself on KL, the crafting of wish lists for shopping, learning about places to go and see, all of it is meaningless, as what’s most important is the undertaking of journey itself.
What I realise now is that it’s all about moments, the unfolding of each day, the tumbling out of bed and today heading out to somewhere new, different, to discover something unexpected. There’s a great deal of joy in that and when you couple it with chance, risk and possess the ability to open yourself up to new things your perspective on the world changes dramatically. You begin to see what’s most important in your life, priorities, love, family, hope, making moments last. You learn that it’s about spending time to its full extent and to enjoy every second, to try and live in the moment, to love without fear or regret and to know that all the steps taken be they forward, back, sideways are all conducive to the journey itself.
So what could have done to prepare myself? Well the answer is easy - Nothing, because only through the experience of having gone through this journey that I know now in hindsight that there is nothing I could have done, imagined, pre- planned for, that could have predetermined the outcome of the journey to have made it any better. What I learned very quickly was that plans are well and good, but rather than sticking to them rigidly you just need to live from moment to moment; this leaves you more open to new things that ultimately give way to chance where you’re just able to decide to do things on the fly and the spontaneity leaves with this inner glow.
Sometimes this feeling is strong enough to carry you through weeks afterwards where you feel like you’re really connected to people again, sometimes this feeling can even last a whole year.
What I learnt was that in our daily lives we can all be free in this way, to be sensitive to one another, seeing with our eyes, minds, hearts open. We need to be hopeful, mindful and adventurous.
Oh sure we can all sit around and wonder about what it might be like, but sometimes you just need to go there and find out for yourself.
Oh sure we can all sit around and wonder about what it might be like, but sometimes you just need to go there and find out for yourself.
End.
No comments:
Post a Comment