What'cha doin'?

Hi.

We're alive.  :)

We made it through a lot and I HAVE been writing about it, but in the good old fashioned way with pen and paper (my pen actually died before we even left Malaysia).  Here's what we've made it through so far:

• we got married (amazing wedding, amazing party, many happy tears)
• we flew to Malaysia
• I averted a pickpocket attempt on Malcolm in the airport (by kicking someone, no less)
• we took the Canadian family around KL to see things and stuff them full of food
• we had another wedding tea ceremony (amazing family, more happy tears)
• we had another wedding reception (oh, the FOOD!)
• we flew to Bangkok
• I got over food poisoning from the airplane food on that first glorious night
• boys went fishing, girls went shopping (though I really had to concentrate to get my poisoned shit together for two days following)
• we ate FOOD
• honeymooned in Krabi - I didn't want to leave
• returned to Bangkok
• I avoided another pickpocket attempt (this time a motorbike purse-snatcher) by having my wits about me...though I wish I'd managed to kick another someone else in this instance
• we got massages
• I caught a cold that I booted after a glorious day of sleep mixed with cable TV
• we bought stuff
• we ate stuff
• we ate more stuff
• we're going to eat more stuff

Of course there are more details, but those will come later. I think I need to go sit by the pool for a bit. :)

Wha' happened?

Food happened.

We're here! We're here! 22 hours in transit plus the time from the airport and we made it to KL. How's it been? Full of food.

My first order of business was to learn just how much Malaysians love their food. I should have known that it was always underlying in Malcolm, but I never saw this foodie in him in full force until now. The closer we got to his home town, the more this craving for food emerged. Thank goodness we lost weight before heading here!

It all started at the HK airport. A few hours after being fed an airplane-breakfast in flight (I picked congee which turned out to be quite good), we were deposited in Hong Kong for our 3 hour layover before transferring onward to KL. We took a quick walk through the arrivals wing before determining that everything was closed and not interesting, so we slid on through security to check out the departures side of things. 6 o'clock in the morning and the restaurant stoves were already ablaze with deliciousness.

Of my four or five choices, I forewent the sushi and McDonald's and instead decided on a huge bowl of noodles and dumplings (when in Rome...).

Malcolm, on the other hand, opted for something a little less traditional. I didn't take a picture of it, but he ordered Popeye's Chicken Fingers...with fries...and mashed potatoes...and onion rings.

After chowing down, we strolled around the airport to check it out a little more before heading to our gate. It's a big, beautiful airport, I have to say.

However, not long at all into our exploration, we discovered that we could have had 10 more options of restaurants to choose from had we not jumped at the first bank of retailers we'd come across.

Back on the plane, we were served black bean chicken on rice - I was barely able to finish it having not long ago finished my bowl of noodles, but not Malcolm - he polished that off too (though to his credit, he was too full to finish mine for me). Off the plane, through customs, and whizzing through the city towards home with his brother, I couldn't believe my ears: "Hey, can we stop for food?"

Stop we did.

I didn't manage to get a photo of it before we dug in (the boys much more heartily than me), but I took what I could and it was good enough as what was left was demolished a few minutes later. You could tell by the look on Malcolm's face he was happy to be home.

I think that was lunch--we still managed to have dinner later that night, and then breakfast, lunch, dinner, and midnight snack the next day. I have been REALLY lax on the photo taking, but I promise there will be more, just as I have been promised that this is only the beginning of the food to come...

Off we go!

It's ten to one in the morning this fine, November day--we're sitting, waiting for our boarding call at the airport, pumped full of adrenaline and simultaneous exhaustion. I forgot my sunscreen and a hard copy of my itinerary, but hey, those are the things that keep it interesting, right?

I miss you all already--I would have sent some more personalized goodbyes, but my phone just died, of course.

See you on the other side [of the globe, that is]!

< 3

It should have had a button

Coming up on our 17th hour en route to our first official destination of Athens, Greece, I've hit a roadblock with time-passers. I have no urge to sleep, watch, listen, read, knit (well, they wouldn't let me on this flight, but I wouldn't have felt like it if I could have), so I've turned to writing. We're currently soaring high up in European skies aboard our bright orange easyJet plane. And easy it is.


Upon boarding the plane (from the tarmac), we found we didn't have seat numbers and were free to choose any two seats together. With frequent flight times there was no over-booking so SilentR and I got our own row. The plane itself is spacious with high ceilings/overhead clearances and wide aisles.

Simply delightful? Sure, but of course the simplicity of the plane didn't stop there. All food and beverage service was a la carte. There were no TV screens or audio systems. And the kicker? No reclining of the seats.

Overall though, I'm not complaining. I think the fact that it was so clean bowled me over enough to forget the rest.

Yes, 17.5 hours now, still en route, but yes, I would have to say that this leg of the trip was easy.

Bad Luck Fortune already?

Hah, so a few years ago, I wrote about my string of bad luck while travelling in Japan. Well, departing for a whirlwind trip to Europe, I got stopped at the x-ray/metal detector. I'd warned them about Nikki (my camera), but perhaps they'd forgotten.

    "Is it the camera?" I asked the security guard.
    "Nope. What else is in your back, ma'am?"
    "Is it the lenses?"
    "No, ma'am. What's under the lenses?"
    "Um, my jeans?" I wracked my brain for other, possibly threatening, items.
    "Under that?"
    At this point, he was opening up my bag and pulling out the already mentioned items.
    "Um, extra underwear? Please just don't wave them around if you have to pull those out..."
    "No, I won't. But anything else in here?"
    "The bottom of the bag?" Because by then, he'd really pawed through everything and nothing had satisfied his interest--not even my knitting needles.
    "No, it looks like...it looks like it was just your book here. Have a great trip, ma'am."
    "Oh, thanks."

Seriously, my book? My paperback book? My paperback book about knitting?!

They didn't even bat an eye at SilentR's herbs...
...but they stopped me for my book? Strange.

I suppose getting stopped for nothing is better than getting stopped for something. Or burning a temple down.

It can't be THAT bad

There are vehicles whizzing by out there! And besides, the pumas don't even seem to notice.
...

(Now I'm just getting ridiculous...c'mon flights...let's go!)

Onward to the Land of the Rising Sun...

Yeah, I’ll give you Rising Sun alright...

I was up at the crack of dawn and nervous as hell as this was my first intercontinental trip. I double checked everything before locking my suitcases, resigned to the decision that if I’d forgotten something, it was too late to get it now. Mom and Dad groggily hugged me goodbye, triple checking all that I had just double checked, and I was finally out the door with Sherman as my chauffeur in the good ol’ golden chariot.

My flight was scheduled to leave at 9:30am, and being an international flight, I was advised to get there three hours in advance—hence, the rising sun. It had snowed through the night and although the roads were relatively clear, the traffic was not and it wasn’t until about 7:15am that Sherman finally unloaded me and my bags and kissed me a long goodbye at Terminal 3.

I dragged my bags through the terminal in search of my airline, NorthWest, and when I found it, I discovered that the line up was short, yet painstakingly slow. When my turn came, I bounced up to the attendant (my past flying experiences proved that the happier I was, the less disgruntled they would manage) and proudly handed him my passport and eTicket confirmation.

    “Where are you headed?”
    “Tokyo, Japan. Unless you mean literally which means that I’m heading to Detroit first for a stop-over before leaving at 12:30pm to arrive at 4:00pm in Japan.” I flashed a winning smile. Another trick that I’d picked up while was the ditzy-trick—the more clueless you seemed, the more information they felt they needed to provide you with—I like being informed.
    “Oh. Your first flight is delayed—we’re going to put you on a direct AirCanada flight because you’ll miss your connection.” The attendant started typing into his little terminal as he spoke.
    “Okay,” I started to fumble with my itinerary trying to figure out what time my connection had been—I was fairly certain there’d been a lot of lay-over time to deal with.
    “Alright, so your new flight leaves at 1:00pm and arrives at 4:55pm.”
    “That sounds about right,” I still hadn’t found the times on my damn booking sheet. “I didn’t think I left Detroit any early than that.”
    “No, miss, you’re not going to Detroit. It’s a direct flight. Your new AirCanada flight leaves at 1:00pm, flies direct, and arrives in Tokyo at 4:55pm.”
    “I leave at one? In the afternoon?”
    “That’s right, miss. You’ll also have to make your way over to Terminal 1.”
    “Terminal 1?” Let me tell you, I wasn’t working any tricks on this guy at that point. “But how do I get to Terminal 1?”
    “I’m about to tell you, miss.”

And the nice attendant pointed out my route and sent me on my way, still struggling with all my luggage, bewildered as anything.

One P.M.

I informed Mom, Dad, and Sherman, made my way all the way (by a really cool new train) to terminal 1, found my new check-in desk (though they wouldn’t let me check my bags), found a place to settle down, wrote this here little anecdote, and it’s still only 8:23am. In fact, AirCanada wouldn’t even let me check my bags because it was still too early to do so. Dang.

I guess that’s what I get for teasing HeroCookie about his flight being delayed an hour last night. Foo.


...

Update: 12:35pm

My flight's been delayed. My 1pm departure has now become a 3pm departure. I could have just stayed home in bed with Sherman. Boo. On the brighter side, I have free internet connection and HeroCookie let me borrow his SlingBox to watch TV with while I wait! Oh, and if they delay me one more hour, I think I get free food! I heard them do it for another flight over the anouncement system, so if anything, I'll be fed. :)

Take that snow storm! (what really sucks is that it doesn't even look bad out there...)