How do I describe the last 24 hours?

How do I make you understand how overwhelmed I feel at the moment?

I’m sitting in KL airport, only half way through my 6-hour stopover. I haven’t slept properly in days, and there are moments when I think I’m hallucinating just from sheer tiredness.

The last day in Perth was pretty surreal. Saying goodbyes to friends and family, but still not taking anything seriously. Which I now kind of regret.

Should I have cried at the airport? I didn’t. I still feel this strange limbo of emotion, running the breadth of sadness, through to excitement and back to disbelief.

Actually – that’s a great word for how I feel at this moment – “disbelief”.

Anyhoo, back to the immediate setting laid out before me. KL airport is architecturally interesting, although a little too modern and minimalist for my tastes. But I really like the way it’s been designed so you move through the space in a circular way, whilst actually being in a structure that’s the shape of a cross.

There are young looking boys wearing uniforms and carrying guns, which whilst it’s expected, is still a shock to see. I had to catch a mini-train from one terminal to this one, and the whole way I was crowded against this 11 year old looking police officer, and his gun was so distastefully close to me, I wanted to move backwards so I wouldn’t be so close. I stopped myself because it would have been too obvious and rude, but I think he knew how I felt because he ended up switching position so I was further away from the gun.

Probably the best bit about the airport (other than the stores I can’t afford – Coach, Hermes, Versace, Harrods…) is that there is wireless network all through the airport, so I can play with my trusty Babar (that’s the name of my Mac. For all you Babar fans, you will have a giggle to yourselves when I tell you my USB thumb drive thing-a-mee is called Isabelle).

I’m plugged into my itunes, listening to The Frames, whilst lots of well dressed women click through the marble floored halls, and business men pull their Samsonite trolleys toward departure gates.

And I sit here. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

I can’t read anymore, I need a break from Scrubs (my TV series of choice to watch during my journey) and if I have another coffee at the Starbucks (which is as “eww” as I imagined it to be) I’ll end up jittering my way through the next 15 hours.

I’m still waiting.

Funny how much an anticlimax it is to sit around and wait in the middle of an adventure. The momentum fades.

Okay – I think this disjointed nonsense needs to stop for a while. Plus, I just noticed that I’m sub-consciously dancing (you know – the sitting down side to side movement with a bit of foot tapping thrown in for good measure), which explains why the nicely dressed women are starting to look at me funny.

Next post will be from the UK. Eeek!

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