Malaysia: Kuala Lumpur 2024. Part 3 - The Departure
Malaysia: Kuala Lumpur 2024. Part 3 - The Departure
Captains Log Day 13 - 06/01/25 10:20 pm.
The small airport was a welcome change from the sprawling chaos of larger hubs, with its straightforward layout making it relatively easy to navigate. However, that didn’t stop the captain from taking full advantage of his post-accident plight. At every checkpoint, he made sure to recount the harrowing details of his ATV accident, milking every bit of sympathy he could. Meanwhile, the admiral, not one to be outdone, rubbed her belly exaggeratedly to highlight her “extra-pregnant” state, a move that worked like a charm. Together, their combined theatrics even earned them the privilege of fast-tracking one security checkpoint entirely.
While waiting at the gate, the captain attempted to assimilate with the local culture, enthusiastically throwing around phrases like "inshallah" and "alhamdulillah." Unfortunately, he used them interchangeably, blissfully unaware of their actual meanings. The admiral, watching this with barely concealed amusement, could only shake her head at his attempts.
When they finally reached the boarding gate, the captain spotted a ground crew member and immediately launched into his well-practiced tale of woe, once again emphasizing his injuries and dramatically pointing toward the waddling admiral. The ground crew, empathetic to their "plight," offered a surprising solution: the entire squad, along with their luggage, could be lifted into the airplane via a chairlift to spare them the ordeal of walking up the stairs. The admiral, thoroughly entertained by this new twist in the saga, was eagerly looking forward to the chairlift experience.
But when the time came to board, the ground crew clarified that only the captain would be hoisted into the plane. The admiral and cadet, instead of enjoying the same royal treatment, were left to carry the bags onboard and struggle with fitting them into the overhead lockers. The admiral couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation as she wrestled with luggage while the captain was gently elevated into the aircraft.
Once seated, however, things took an unexpected turn. The flight crew, now noticing the captain’s obvious injuries, seemed concerned that he might not have medical clearance to fly. This led to a tense moment as the captain shifted gears, suddenly downplaying his earlier theatrics. With reassurances that he was "totally fine" and "fit to fly," the crew eventually relented, satisfied with his explanation.
As the plane prepared for takeoff, the admiral leaned back, still chuckling quietly to herself. The captain, triumphant in his efforts to secure special treatment, winced in his seat, already planning how to retell this chapter of their journey. Meanwhile, the cadet, blissfully unaware of the drama, was focused on the in-flight magazine, ready for the next adventure to unfold
As they waited for takeoff, the heat inside the plane grew unbearable. The admiral, on the brink of losing it, feverishly fanned the cadet with the safety instructions booklet, trying to keep him calm as beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. The captain, reclined in his seat, kept reassuring her, "It’ll cool down soon," though he looked equally miserable.
Finally, the plane roared into the sky, and the sweet relief of air conditioning kicked in. The trio settled in with onboard snacks, and for the first time in hours, there was a brief moment of peace.
The flight was short and uneventful, and before they knew it, they were landing in KL. But as soon as the wheels touched the tarmac, the cadet’s hunger struck like a thunderclap, triggering a meltdown.
To make matters worse, he urgently needed to use the bathroom, and this wasn’t just any bathroom visit—it had to be perfectly executed. His clothes couldn’t bear the indignity of a single droplet of water. Yet, a rogue droplet did find its way onto his shirt, leaving him utterly distraught. The admiral scrambled to console him, her patience thinning with every passing second.
Eventually, they emerged from the bathroom, a little worse for wear but determined to push on. At baggage claim, they retrieved their luggage with the wearied air of seasoned travelers. The cadet, still grumpy, tugged at the admiral’s arm, demanding food.
The mission to satisfy the cadet’s hunger had officially reached its most dramatic stage. After grabbing a quick emergency pretzel to tide him over, the captain took it upon himself to tackle the cadet’s next craving: sushi. He spotted the infamous sushi place, the very one that had refused to cut sushi for them on a prior visit. Undeterred, and perhaps fueled by residual frustration from the trip’s chaotic moments, the captain prepared for battle.
With determination etched on his face, he approached the counter and placed the order. The request was simple yet seemingly monumental: cut the sushi into smaller, manageable pieces. Predictably, the attendant refused once again, citing policy. The captain, already tested by the tumultuous day, tried reasoning with them, explaining that his son, the cadet, had no front teeth and couldn’t eat the sushi as it was. The conversation escalated as the captain grew more animated, pointing to the pair of scissors on the counter as a possible solution.
This display of passion, however, unnerved the staff. Fearful of the captain's intensity, the attendant refused to hand over the scissors, citing safety concerns. Realizing that he might have come across too strongly, the captain took a deep breath and shifted tactics. He pleaded with them, toning down his frustration and appealing to their compassion. Eventually, the attendant relented, cautiously agreeing to cut the sushi into smaller pieces.
Triumphantly, the captain returned to the cadet, who was contentedly nibbling on his pretzel. He recounted the sushi saga to the admiral, who couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
While the cadet dug into his freshly cut sushi, the captain set off once more to find food for himself and the admiral. Navigating the bustling airport, he eventually returned with sustenance for the two of them. However, the pretzel place they were at enforced a strict “no outside food” policy. Undeterred, they gathered their belongings and moved to a nearby spot where they could eat in peace.
As they finally settled in, the cadet happily munching on his sushi and the adults savoring their long-overdue meal, a rare calm descended over the trio. It wasn’t the smoothest or most dignified dining experience, but in the chaos of the day, it felt like a small victory.
The next skirmish was spearheaded by the admiral as she ventured to secure a post-lunch treat for the cadet: ice cream. The shop, however, was out of cones, and instead of offering a compromise, insisted on charging double for a cup. The admiral, already weary from the day’s battles, stood her ground. She argued firmly against the absurdity of the upcharge, but the shop staff remained unyielding. Frustrated but principled, the admiral refused to pay the inflated price, walking away empty-handed. The cadet, devastated by the lack of ice cream, began voicing his displeasure in a tone that was quickly becoming his signature battle cry.
After a tense lunch aftermath, they hailed a cab to their hotel. However, this too turned into an ordeal. As the grab car arrived, the captain—still in his determined yet limping state—approached a nearby security guard to request help with their bags. The security guard listened intently as the captain explained their situation, nodding in empathy and even agreeing to assist. But just as the grab car pulled up, the security guard mysteriously vanished, leaving the captain, admiral, and cadet to fend for themselves yet again.
In the end, the bags were loaded into the car with great effort, and the crew finally piled in. As the car drove off toward their hotel, the three exchanged weary glances, silently acknowledging the unrelenting chaos of their day. Yet, despite the constant hurdles, they carried on, bound by resilience and an unspoken understanding that these were the stories they’d laugh about—one day, far in the future.
The flat, even ground of the hotel was a welcome reprieve for the captain, who hoped that the lack of slopes might finally aid his recovery. At the reception, the crew was greeted by an exceptionally sweet receptionist. Spotting an opportunity, the cadet turned on his signature charm, beaming at the staff with an irresistibly sweet smile. The strategy paid off: they were offered a complimentary room upgrade to the coveted club room. Elated, they made their way upstairs.
Upon entering their upgraded accommodations, the crew was overwhelmed with joy. The air-conditioning was crisp, the room spacious and luxurious, and for the first time in days, they felt a wave of relief. In celebration, they danced a little jig around the room, united in their gratitude for a moment of peace and comfort.
Eager to make the most of their evening, they decided to explore the Times Square Mall, conveniently connected to their hotel. Within its cavernous halls lay the famed indoor theme park, the largest of its kind in Malaysia. The group headed to the floor dedicated to children’s rides, only to discover that both the captain and the admiral were required to pay for entry—even though neither would be riding anything. Reluctantly, they paid the fee and entered.
Inside, the level was eerily empty. The cadet had the entire space to himself, but the joy of unlimited access to the rides was slightly tempered by the absence of other children. Still, he made the best of it, darting from one ride to the next, while the captain and admiral sat on the sidelines.
By the time they emerged from the theme park, it was late, and the mall was winding down for the night. Their hunt for dinner became a race against closing shutters. The only options left were less than appetizing: chicken kebab and rice that looked as though it had been sitting in the bain-marie since breakfast—or perhaps the day before. The cadet began eating the meal with some hesitation while the captain embarked on a last-ditch effort to find something else.
This quest led him to a fast-food joint called "Reecheese," where the offerings were nothing short of alarming. The menu consisted of greasy, cheese-covered burgers with ominous names like "Nuclear" and "Atomic," paired with a fluorescent pink drink. Desperate and resigned, the captain brought the food back, only to discover that the insides of the chicken burgers were an unsettling shade of pink. Determining it was safer to go hungry, he abandoned the meal entirely.
They prayed—“Inshallah” and “Alhamdulillah,” used interchangeably as ever—that no food poisoning would strike. Exhausted and still somewhat hungry, the crew returned to their upgraded hotel room, grateful for a clean and comfortable place to sleep. As they prepared for bed, they consoled themselves with the thought of the hotel’s breakfast buffet awaiting them in the morning. It was a small but necessary glimmer of hope to end the day.
The morning began with a surprising sweetness from the cadet, who charmed his way through the early hours with impeccable behavior. Unfortunately, this serene start proved fleeting, as the day would soon unravel into a series of emotional storms punctuated by fleeting moments of calm.
The crew entered the hotel’s breakfast buffet, a lavish spread catering to every taste imaginable. Yet the cadet, feeling cold but stubbornly refusing to wear his jumper, erupted into tears and screams. A delicate mix of carrot-and-stick parenting finally coaxed him into eating his breakfast. Miraculously, he transformed into an eloquent, well-mannered child for a brief and hopeful moment.
The original plan to visit KidZania was shelved as the captain, still recovering from the previous day’s adventures, felt worse for wear. Instead, they opted for a local excursion back to Times Square Mall and its soft play center—a safer, more manageable outing for all.
However, the cadet’s good mood expired just as they reached the mall. He demanded ice cream, which he was promptly given, only to throw a meltdown because the portion was "too much" for his liking. After a great deal of negotiation, he calmed down enough for the group to continue to lunch.
For lunch, the cadet had one simple request: bread. The crew found a bakery called "Bread Story," where they ordered garlic bread. Meanwhile, the admiral attempted to order one iced latte and one hot latte from the café inside. What should have been a straightforward order quickly spiraled into chaos. Despite having four staff members behind the counter, no one seemed willing to listen to the admiral’s request. Frustration boiled over, intensified by pregnancy hormones, as she struggled to get their attention. Finally, she walked away with two iced lattes instead of the intended order, seething from the ordeal.
Meanwhile, the captain went on his own food quest for the cadet, returning to the sushi shop to buy him a favorite treat. Predictably, the staff once again refused to cut the sushi into smaller pieces. Tired, frustrated, and channeling his own version of pregnancy hormones, the captain launched into a passionate plea, detailing the cadet’s plight as a boy without front teeth. Though the staff remained unmoved, the captain walked away, muttering about the dire state of sushi-cutting services in Malaysia.
As they sipped their lattes and reflected on the morning’s drama, the captain and admiral began to recognize a pattern. They liked to think of themselves as kind and worldly travelers, but the challenges of the day had tested their patience to the limit. In hindsight, they realized they might have overreacted. Over coffee, they shared a knowing look, silently vowing to meet the rest of the day with a little more grace—or at least to try.
The day continued with a visit to the jungle gym in the mall, where the cadet unleashed his energy while the captain and admiral took the opportunity to rest. At one point, the captain escorted the cadet to the bathrooms. While waiting in line for the cubicle, he loudly remarked on the people taking showers in the toilets—a mystery he found both frustrating and baffling, given the perpetually wet floors and occupied stalls.
Back at the jungle gym, the cadet found fleeting companionship with another child before moving on to build a castle of blocks in a separate room. There, he was briefly "adopted" by another mother, who supervised his block-building efforts while the admiral rested nearby, appreciating the momentary reprieve.
After the jungle gym, the plan was to head to Petaling Street for some souvenir shopping. But the cadet had other priorities—first, he demanded ice cream, and moments later, he imploded with hunger, insisting on dinner. The crew managed to get through another challenging meal, navigating the cadet’s mercurial moods.
Just as they prepared to head to Petaling Street, the skies opened, releasing a torrential downpour that was forecasted to continue through the night. With the rain rendering their plans impossible, the mission to find souvenirs shifted to the confines of the mall.
The hunt for meaningful keepsakes turned into a frustrating ordeal as they circled the mall, walking endlessly only to find a handful of suitable items. The cadet and admiral eventually had to retreat to the hotel room when the cadet reached his breaking point. Back in the room, mayhem erupted as they tried to calm him down and settle him for the night.
Meanwhile, the captain pressed on with the search for souvenirs despite feeling increasingly sore and unwell. After exhausting his options, he returned to the room, where the admiral took over the dinner mission. Unfortunately, her efforts ended in disappointment—Subway had closed just minutes before her arrival, leaving her to settle for Nando’s. The chicken wraps turned out to be a disaster, with the offending chicken skin rendering the meal inedible.
Disgruntled, hungry, and thoroughly drained from the day, the crew decided to call it a night. With an early flight to Manila looming, they organised their bags in a way in which they could keep some in a locker and then they hoped that a good night’s sleep would restore their spirits for the next chapter of their journey. The captain triple checked the flight time.
