One Missed Flight
Our first flight out that is supposed to kickstart our Burmese adventure, is scheduled at 6:55 a.m.. We rise like Superheroes at 6:15. That’s how our first international flight together begins.
No one breaks their shins while scrambling out of bed. Naturally, the words “shit!” and “fuck!” loyally trail behind as we curse the idiots that we are. We set 4 alarms before bed, pushing their volumes to the max, yet neither of us heard anything. This is a first for me.
My heart is racing, hanging right beneath my throat – I feel horrible! Is this a bad dream? I give É a pinch and get no response. I pinch myself and it stings like hell. “Maybe the universe is doing us a favor! Maybe the pilot on this flight takes advantage of the haze and decides to make a detour? Maybe…”
It definitely isn’t the most ideal way to feel about a goddamn holiday.
There in the living room at the brink of 6:30 a.m., you see a man and a woman both nervously searching for the next earliest, cheapest flight out on their laptops. Not even the fan is switched on.
There is no such a thing as a cheap last minute flight, especially when you miss one and need it the most. No travel expert can teach you how to fix that. A missed flight, is a missed flight. With a burn and a hole in two hearts, we purchase a pair of replacement tickets flying out as late as 6 p.m.
Myanmar is undeniably NOT a friendly country to travel to. I’ve been dreaming to visit Burma for the past three years (so try imagining my excitement when I found a travel partner), and I finally understood why nobody wanted to go with me.
We haven’t even started our trip and it already costs us more than 1000 euros. (That’s a fortune for a 3rd world country!) The visa application too, is a mission. Transportation within the nation is either cheap but very time consuming, or convenient but expensive like hell. Staring into the darkness while trying to sleep, I can only imagine more challenges coming our way; as everything has been pre-booked or paid for; arranged back-to-back.
I hope the red shirts rally doesn’t go crazy flooding the streets today and make us lose another flight. Need luck for that kinda unpredictability. Wish us some.
Nonetheless, happy 1Malaysia Day, everyone. Near or far, we should all be celebrating in our hearts – cherishing the fact that we are more blended as one, more than we know.
