2) FROM HK TO KL

Just as Dipal made me stressed, Ranjit made me relaxed – which he might say is a balancing of cosmic energies. My seat mate to Kuala Lumpur, on the second leg of his journey to Kerala for a three day Hindu pilgrimage to Sabarimalai for the God Swami Ayyappa, was a delight from the start. An IT guy from Silicone Valley, his sojourn in America had rekindled his faith and his desire to relocate his family back to India - ironically for many of the reasons that led him to leave in the first place.

Ranjit and I parted ways at another monorail, this one with two tracks, beneath the glass domed enclosures of the KL airport. One of the most tranquil places any traveller could be lucky enough to find themselves stranded in, KLA was constructed on tropical forest land and somehow manages to fuse modern transport with natural habitat whilst avoiding the perils of kitschy Las Vegas theme-decorating.

I spend an hour in the customs line simply because my Canadian sense of decorum does not immediately permit me to partake in the jostling antics of my fellow travellers. But after at least 2 tour groups, and several families of 12 push past me and I found myself still lodged between two marble columns. I partner up with a New Zealand tourist and use elbow thrust manoeuvres on both flanks to quell the surging hoards behind us, and maintain position against those already ahead trying to sneak in stragglers.

In the arrival hall, I scan the crowd, but my Aunt and Uncle are no where to be found.I trundle my suitcase along towards the information desk as I feel the masses descending. Although nothing can compare to the onslaught of ‘tour guides’ that besieges travellers at the Port of Tangiers, past experience has taught me to refuse anything offered and always to do it with a smile and a quickened pace. A security officer dials my uncle’s cell phone and I spot him not 10 feet away.

We emerge from the airport and the air is thick and moist. 30-something degrees and I am wearing a wool sweater, jeans, wool socks and sneakers. I peel off the layers of winter wear and roll up the cuffs of my jeans, placing my faithful blue Havianas on my tired feet. Speeding down the highway towards Kuala Lumpur, my back sticky against the vinyl seats of the 1960s Mercedes taxi, my eyes slowly adjust to the sunlight and the sight of all that lush green vegetation.