Went to Malacca on Saturday, come back to KL on Sunday (yesterday). Why? Cheng Beng. We do this every year for the past 13 years since my great grandmother died. Visiting her grave isn't as sorrowful as I think it would be. Instead, I feel a strange sense of calmness and comfort. I guess the whole family does too.
That's on the Sunday Morning.
In the evening, we had to go back to KL. It's on the way home that I experienced the longest-darn-journey in the history of all our "coming-backs". First, we had to stop our car because the fans cooling the engine malfunctioned, so the temperature shot up to boiling point. Secondly, we had to spend almost 2 hours hanging around in the petrol kiosk waiting for the car to be fixed. Thirdly, we had to spend another 4 hours in the darn traffic jam, which began from the Malacca toll all the way to Seremban. At that time I'm already feeling carsick. Sucks....
But all in all, it was a blessing in disguise to me. First, the car malfunctioned some 10 metres from the toll. It's a good thing we didn't stop anywhere further then that distance, or else we would be in trouble. Second, there's a petrol kiosk nearby, so we had shelter from the rain.
Reached home, went directly to my bed and zzzzzzzzzzz..........
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