We started the journey weaving in and out of memory lane. Ipoh's famous nasi ganja and Funny Mountain's tau fu fah, Kuala Kangsar's laksa tepi sungai and some famous yummy pau somewhere between there and Penang.
Tugs and pangs in familiar spots, pulling heart strings left, right and center. It was a recipe for disaster had it not been for the perfect travel buddies. Them lovebirds and my inhaler buddy.
Of all the things that happened within those 3 days (between the food, the cycling, learning the importance of slowing down, the touristy things, the conversations, the food, the sunset chasing, thefoodthefoodthefood), this left quite a mark in my then crumbly self: how the lovebirds, my inhaler buddy and i got lost on our last night.
We walked through semi dark alleys, looking for the greatest roti pisang ever (konon tak jumpa pun ngahah) finding ourselves lost - them on their adventure & me in my head.
I loved how they let me hang back though, stole glances so they know i don't wander too far. How they let me take my time (trust me, the weeks leading up to Penang was one helluva roller coaster ride) and slowed down with me. I loved how there were random chickens everywhere criss-crossing our paths.
And i loved how those darned chickens (real actual chickens, not them lovebirds) led me to a mosque with a message on the gate.
Sometimes, the most important conversation is with your silly self.
That's why our little trip has remained significant. It amazes me (still) how we managed to find little unfamiliar spaces of tranquility and peace in an island with far too many cars (and far too many memories).
Oh! I also learned that if you have friends who stand by you when you've just vomited by the roadside, in public, under broad daylight (or in a salon but let's save that for another post) - keep em close.
And so began my first few teeny weeny steps.
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