So, theepic tale of my family’s Asian occasion begins one dark and stormy Wednesdayevening. Amidst the towering cumulonimbus clouds, dragons dodged, dipped,ducked, dived and attempted to dodge rain drops, lest it dribble down the backsof their necks and caused them discomfort. The N2 was perilous. Puddles of wetwater soaked the saturated roads in the same way that sand does not.
Tempting askiddy fate, we broke through the precipitous, pretentious and alliterativebarrier and reached our destination: the Cape Town International Airport RoadLodge.
Inside, wefound a vending machine. I bought a beer and went to the front desk to check in. We hadthose cool card reader door locks. If I hadn’t been occupied drinking, I wouldhave spent another two hours playingwith it. Oh man, I can’t wait until we get fingerprint ID locks. Not even beerwill keep me away. I’ll have to move onto heavier stuff…somethinghallucinogenic. That way I’ll still be playing with the door lock, but I’ll atleast think it’s all that it is themost important thing.
We decidedto order Spur from the airport. It was either that or Panerotti’s. Clearly thebeer was taking its toll.
I decided to watch The Dark Knight, while theRed-skins at Spur made my Cranberry and Brie chicken burger the way theirancestors did.
Heath Ledger shouldn’t have died. He would have stolen the scene from the exploding octopus when they remake the Adam Westversion of the movie. Nothing against the octopus, nor Caesar Romero, butneither of them tapped both the Gyllenhaals(although…Nicholson still has time).
Our foodarrived. It would have been good, except it wasn’t. Then I started watching AndromedaStrain, a series about a sentient, alien virus from the future, sent backin time so that scientists from the past could find a cure for it before it wastoo late. Round about the part where everyone dies, the beer ran out. It wastime for bed.
The nextday was mostly uneventful. Mostly a lot of sitting around, in plane or airport.I can’t even make stuff up about it. I did realise this; an airport is a greatplace to buy condoms. The cashier will never see you again, and they’re dutyfree!!! (Monetary duty only. All other forms still apply.)
On theplane from Jozi to Kuala Lumpur, life heated up. We ate lunch, and breakfastfollowed about five hours later. I tell you what; Food was good. Do yourselvesa favour and fly Malaysia Airlines (MH). Roast Chicken in a mild peri-peribasting, roast potatoes and veggies. Spinach-omelette, with hash brown and sidesalad nyom nyom. And the beer!!! Most airlines do refreshments, food,refreshments, refreshments, food etc. but on MH, every third round of refreshmentsyour only choice was beer!!! Whoop whoop? I think so. Poor Asians. Most of themwere wearing anti pig-flu masks (our plane came direct from Buenos Aires) andwatching their eyes as they realised they would have to remove their masks inorder to drink, and eat. It broke my heart. Someone had ripped these poorpeople off.
In betweenthe culinary excitement, there was only TV. I watched John Cena’s remake of TheMarine. It’s called 12 Rounds, and theychanged the storyline a little bit too. John plays a man whose girlfriend gets takenhostage by bad guys, and it’s up to him to get her back. This time, instead ofbeing a marine, he’s a cop! Personally I thought the original was moreentertaining.
12 Rounds is actually too good to be enjoyed properly. At roughly4:30 pm SA time, we arrived over Madagascar, and the film finished at sunset.The Captain decided it was time for us to go to sleep, so they turned out thelights, switched off the in-flight entertainment and left us in the dark. Noone slept. In fact, it was about this time that all the kiddie-winkles underthe age of about 9 started waking up, running around, kicking seat-backs andall the other things kiddies do. Themovies came back on. I watched “He’sJust Not That Into You”, which posed an interesting question. How does a manchoose between Scarlett Johannson
Must be an alternative man…
We tickedover to Malaysia time, and the plane “woke up” at 2 am for breakfast and a movie about how not to get lost at Kuala LumpurInternational Airport (KLIA).
She’s so friendly …andpretty. She says “it’s impossible to get lost at KLIA” and you believe her.She was right. It’s impossible. Unless you don’t talk English, Malay, Chinese,French, maybe German… It’s an amazing airport. Rated number one in the world bythe ACI, which is some ratings board madeup of Malaysians…
I’m kindabored and sober right now, so it’s not as fun as can be, but I’m gonna missionon anyway. You know me, always a trooper.
KLIA isreally really big. You’ll see it in the pictures. We caught a plane to JohorBahru.