Right now, in Kuala Lumpar, I get off the plane, bone weary and tired, relieved that I was now on the final lap of a journey of a thousand miles. Darkness was starting to descend on Kualar Lumpar, as I followed my fellow travellers through what was now a familiar airport, having done the route previously back in 2011. Families, businessmen, couples, I noticed were rushing for the trains that awaited, presumably, into Kuala Lumpur's city centre. Others were making their gates or exploring all that KLIA airport has to offer. KLiA airport has one feature that stands out from other airports i've travelled through; a natural Malaysian rainforest that stands in the middle of the Satellite Terminal, you could walk around it and take photos. I opted to stay in the airport for a few reasons, one, I was in an Asian country, and I wasnt sure of the protocol of a lone female traveller traipsing around Malaysia, whether it was frowned upon, and not only that, respecting the cultures that forbid women to travel on their own; two, whether I would make it back in time for my flight and the ramifications of that if I didnt. (I did query if that was possible but the time and distance wasnt feasible.) three, I didnt want to miss my flight to Australia at all not even for a nanosecond.
So what did one do in the airport? It was quite humid in the airport, so I was parched for water, so I headed for the familiar WHS Smith store, (Yes, in Malaysia!) and the prices were in Malaysian currency, Ringgit, (funny word) so had to wrap my head around the exchange rate but regardless, I needed water and food. The five hours stretched before me, so may as well have a hot chocolate and the use of the Wifi thats free around the airport. (Thank god for that!) I explored the terminal, but all these fancy shops are way out of my price range even with the exchange rate. Only the for the very rich.
Surprisingly enough, the time flew, with the help of my trusty laptop and Facebook of course! Decided to head for my gate, so I could be one of the first one in the queue to board the plane and avoid the jostling, head- banging -against -falling -luggage and people -hogging- the aisle kind of thing. It certainly helps when you're travelling on your own and can easily shove your bag in the overhead compartment of the plane and slide neatly into ur seat and be buckled in, before everyone else is. Spare a thought for the harried couple with kids, trying to stove the luggage away, and strapping their kids, and trying to make sure that they havent forgotten anything else they needed for the tedious journey to Sydney Australia.
What is it about these airlines that think its prudent to wake you at some godforsaken hour to have your dinner at 12 midnight, then have your breakfast at 5am in the morning? A theory is that they're trying to prepare you for the crossing into the time zones and of course to minimize the jet lag. Apparently. As I stared out of the window, it was perhaps a daunting thought that as I left Ireland on the 4th July and arrived in Sydney, Australia, 2 days later, crossing two time zones and the Equator line, each time I was suspended in the air, no one knew, except the air traffic controllers, at what point in the world, I was in and that I lost nine hours of my life which I will regain on my return flight home. It was only when you landed, and the help of the social media, that you existed somewhere in London or Malaysia. or Sydney.
It was cramped on the plane which meant that sleep was impossible. The cabin lights were switched off and blinds drawn down over the windows. Silence and inertia came over us, as the plane headed to Sydney. How people slept, I did not know. People even slept with blankets over their heads, which I discovered on the many dreaded urgent trips to the ever more cramped toilet facilities. I found being seated in the window seat was hard going, for a young girl was seated next to me, and just my luck was one of those passengers who manage to sleep in a blink of an eye and are only roused for food and bathroom trips. I disliked waking people for fear of what they might turn into if one disrupted their sleep. They might turn into a roaring disgruntled monstrous passenger of some kind.
Having given up on sleep, I watched many of the films in the hope I might be bored to sleep or turned to music in desperation. No such luck, and cursing those silently who slept throughout the whole journey, I took a look around my surroundings as much I could see, and to my surprise, I saw a passenger on the far side of the plane opening up his blind and sun streaming through the window casting a shadow over the cabin. I opened up the blind slightly for fear of waking the passenger next to me, blue skies greeted me and you could see a glimpse of the land down below. The cabin lights came on and the smell of food heralded relief to my starving self. The end to the tortous journey was near and I'll stepping foot in... Sydney, Australia!
I hope you enjoyed the Journey of a thousand miles.
