Blast To The Past

So happens that last week we had to take half the week off due to some family matter in Johor. It turned out to be a good time to have applied for leave too, as the Actor's Studio Bangsar Gala Farewell went from 7pm (call time aka get your ass here for warm up and quick rehearsal before you go eat) till near midnight! Time passed by so quickly when you're caught up in the funny acts of our Malaysian comedians and all the other performances too.

So by the time we got back and had dinner/supper of Ramly burger (double daging biasa bawang saje black pepper sos saje) and showered and all...it felt just. So. Wonderful. To. NOT have to wake up early for work the next day. Pure bliss sleeping in all the way till past noon.

So, back to the reason for leave-taking.

Friday saw dad and us taking the train down to Johor, ayup, train, because mum had driven down the day before and it made sense to come back all in one car. We left the choice of transport to dad for his comfort (not to mention that he paid...) and that was how we both ended up on the 2pm Premier Coach train. Spacious with plenty of leg room, comfy seats that recline quite a ways back, but, ultimately, still the same kind of dreadful toilets.

The difference between our last trips by train and this trip? The overnight train, we sleep the entire journey. The afternoon train? Spent looking at the cup of Coke and complimentary orange juice stuffed into the front seat pouch as we dare not risk drinking too much that we had to visit the bloody toilet.

Bloody eff eff eff eff eff toilets.

Once in Johor, however, things feel different. Childhood nostalgia and all that. There isn't really much of a sense of familiarity of the place to us, because we're the only one of the family to be born out of Johor. For us the memories are more like, "Hey, there's Holiday Plaza! Eh, no more Holiday Inn already? What took over?" and "We think we recognize that, it looks different but that should be Plaza Pelangi!" Other than the few shopping malls and hotels, we know jack about the roads and places for food and the likes.

Worse than that would be meeting the parents friends.

"Wah, boy! All grown up already ah? Still remember me or not?"

Questions of those sort worry us. These questions all come from friends of our parents since their childhood and such. To our advantage we use innocent youth to mask the fact that we can't remember them - even though we might have met them before in our earlier visits. We trust our sis to know them better, though, and do the talking, phew.

On the upside, there's the food that we'd forgotten.

Mee pok. From Lau Di Kuey Teow. Dad and us were hungry for supper while sis just wanted a drink, but after smelling the pig-oil-infested-soup, everyone caved in and ordered a bowl.

Wan tan mee. The Johor way where the noodles are mixed with chilli sauce giving it a red look instead. We, of course, opted for the non-spicy version and mixed it generously with pepper instead.

As for our trip back up from Johor, suffice to say that our bladder did not endure as well as it did on our way down. But since we were heading back by car, we stopped by at some passable R&R around near Seremban.