" I know I don't need them, but I want them..."
Ok, so the urge to take the maracas was clearly the part of Rani that just couldn't leave home without the kitchen sink... or the 29th top... or the blue eyeshadow palette that I have never worn, but thought might be useful, should I need to trade or barter with a drag queen door bitch in my travels (" if you let me into this club for free, i'll give you this limited edition eyeshadow palette with ocean dreams shadow AND turquoise waters....")
Unfortunately I was left with no choice but to leave the maracas, and 9 tops, a belt, 2 eyeshadow palettes, 2 pairs of shoes ( i guess 4 pairs are enough), and a whole lot of other random shit behind with my sister, because the suitcase I said I would not fill to capacity, I actually didn't fill to capacity, but still managed to weigh about 28.9 kilos. My ticket allowed for a generous 23 kilos. I negotiated with the very kind Qantas check in dude to allow me to take 23.6 kilos.
Adelaide to Sydney was pretty uneventful, although i did notice a particularly kind flight attendant called 'James Tongue', who gave me a bottle of water with a wink and a smile after notcing my blotchy, puffy eyes, and noticeably distressed sniffles as i boarded the plane. Note to self; must write to Qantas advising them that he derserves a promotion.
When I got to Sydney Airport,I thought perhaps a breather was in order, and proceeded to go outside where I met a nice couple; Richard and his girlfriend Mel.
"So what do you do when you're not travelling, Rani?"
"I used to work in Advertising." (DAMN, that felt good to say!)
" Oh really? I'm an Account Manager at BWM here in Sydney."
More career chit chat, and it turns out they are going to Bali. A quick exchange of travel tips, and I looked at my watch. Hmmm... 3pm. I do believe I have a flight at 3.50pm. A quick time calculation leads me to offer a rushed goodbye as it dawns on me that my watch is still on Adelaide time, and it's actually 3.30pm . Shit.
I run to immigration, and go through security where a german family of 6 are talking to a security guard about how much water they can take on board, and slowly unpacking their bags. S.L.O.W.L.Y.
Finally I get through security, and make it to the duty free shop, and remember that I promised my little cousins in Singapore some Australian chocolates. No time, so I run for Gate 7. I make it with minutes to spare.
7 hours, 3 bad chick flicks later (2 of which I didn't finish watching), I arrive in Singapore. Hauling my suitcase onto a bus on phase 1 of journey to cousin's house was embarrassing. Mainly because I couldn't do it, and the annoyed bus driver just stared at me until I looked at him helplessly, before he grunted and picked it up and flung it to the middle of the bus. He then told me he only took exact change for the fare, and he didn't distribute change, and I would have to ask the other passengers on the to change my $5 note.
"Does anyone have any change for five dollars?" I mumbled around the bus. Pretty much everyone stared at me, except for a group of three girls in their twenties that kindly fished around in their purses and between them, found me the right money.
Phase 2 meant catching the MRT train to his apartment, where I got off at the right station but couldn't remember what to do after that. Luckily my great sense of direction based on nothing more than the memory of going there about 4 years ago, led me straight to his front door.
Apart from that, I am proud to say that I didn't get lost AT ALL getting to my cousin's apartment. I might be really good at this travelling thing after all.
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