KL 17th

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Final Day, you guessed it, breakfast was amazing. I sat in the central area today, even walk to all types of food. There was no cooked salmon, nor smoked salmon today. Not happy Jan. I checked out of the hotel, with the bill added to my card in Australian dollars - nice. Big and small bag in tow, I head off to the training in the convention centre.

Training went well, and we covered almost all areas I was interested in, however the last two items were just demo only rather than fully configured on our own laptops. Something to setup once I get home I guess. I repack my bags putting all cables into the luggage bag, leaving the two laptops and external drives in my shoulder bag. I get changed into travel clothes, and head off to arrange a taxi.

At concierge I ask for a taxi, he says RM140. I smile and explain that I dont want a premium taxi, I want a prepaid budget one. He says, "you want meter". I say, "No, I want prepaid budget taxi for around RM70". He grumbles to himself and cracks out the ipad and punches in a bunch of stuff, then comes to me and says, "Meter taxi - 80 Ringetts". I do a quick recount in my head.... I have 91 Ringetts left, cutting it a bit fine, I agree. The taxi arrives within 5 minutes. I climb in, both luggage in with me as the boot wont open. I ask the driver how much it will be. We barter for a while, and I announce I dont care how much traffic, just that I dont have any more than 80 ringetts left. I ask if he takes card, and he laughed so hard it was scary - pointing at the featureless dash he explained there was no card machine in the taxi. We set off in peak hour traffic, a few metres a minute, driver man on his phone the whole time. I think he was negotiating some kind of share deal online, his samsung was flat out just keeping up with the sounds needed to describe the activity. Occasionally he would look up to check the traffic.

After about 3km we reach the 3.5 laned motorway and before long we are cruising along at 120kmh weaving in and out of trucks, motorbikes, other cars... left then right... changing lanes without indicators, one hand on the wheel, the other hand holding the two way while muttering gobbledegook and spontaneously laughing with no warning. It didnt sit well that the most laughter followed the word 'Australian'. The driver would always put on a glove before handing over money at the tolgates, I am now wondering if I need to sanitise my wallet when i get home - maybe just going overboard, I will be right, surely.

We apply the brakes eagerly as we arrive at KLIA, with the meter showing 43 ringetts. Driver man pushes a button and its up to RM64, then he states its another 5 ringetts for the tolways. Unphased, and happy to be there, I flick the man his RM70 and ask for a receipt. Again with the laughter, is it how I am saying it I wonder. He tears me off a pick slip from his pad of receipts and hands it to me. "you fill it out yourself". Righteo, will do sunshine. I am just pleased we made it in one piece, and i have 20 ringetts left over.

3.5 hours til the flight, I find things to fill my time like sleeping, watching the endless procession of cultures pass my way in the hall, finally we board. One senior Japanese fellow (SJF) has decided my seat is better, and pretends to ignore me as I ask him to move. I am a pure novice at this international gig, I shoulda let him have it. Hey, maybe next time I ask for an upgrade. Not long after take off SJF is allowed free passage to the mens room, while I juggle my plastic beaker of red wine. I am almost finished dinner when SJF again requests free passage for another relief break. hmmm, this isnt looking good.

Onto my third vino (the hostess is no longer asking, she just arrives with the bottle and pours). This will set me up for some solid kip for sure. I drain the beaker and wrap myself tight in the blanket to hide from the icy breeze coming out of the closed air vent and search for the land of nod. As we all know, they pump in cold air to quieten you down, but still, its freezing up here, is there a window open or something. SJF is managing to be nudging my elbow, and kicking my shoe at 15 second intervals that prevent nod from arriving. The pillow I stuff down between us takes care of his elbow, but the foot bumping continues. I aim to ask him politely to stop bumping me, but as I open my mouth, all I manage is an earthy grunt, which teamed with a convincing kick of my own, has SJF quietly in his corner and me off into slumber.

I slightly awaken to calls of 'chicken or mushroom'. No need for food thankyou, just bring me some water and keep it coming. I down a bunch of the stuff and soon we are navigating the unending line of grumpy individuals employed by customs. I am let back into the country with surprising ease. I find after almost manhandling a taxi to stop and take me home, they have moved the Adelaide Airport taxi rank. I had literally snared one off the street and was given the nicest, smoothest, cleanest, freshest, happiest ride home. I dont care that the 8 minute ride cost me twice what the 1 hour ride to KLIA, it was clean.

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