"O eccentric beings, welcome to Air Aishah, an airline that believes in one miracle: now, everyone can fly through time." Yes, again. Cameron Highlands last week, because I was influenced by an assignment then. Port Dickson today, because school holiday is synonym with the place.
☙December 2013. Thistle Port Dickson Resort:
A company retreat for Kamal and his colleagues. Khalish and I, like the rest of the spouses and children, were there for a mini holiday. Thank you, company A.
The afternoon we checked-in, my little family simply relaxed in the room. Refreshed after a siesta, we walked towards the beach. As dinner was scheduled after Maghrib, none of us swam. If we did, it would be too much a hassle for the parents to fish the boy out of the sea before dusk.
While strolling, I asked Khalish, "do you remember being here when you were in my womb?" He answered me with a no, of course. Kamal was the one who first reminded me that we used to be there for babymoon, before Guoman became Thistle.
Free and easy day two. At least, for Khalish and I. Oh, I was happy at the likelihood of a conversation over chilled juice with two ladies as our children played together. Hearing it, my son seemed excited, too.
Unfortunately, Khalish was extremely unpredictable. Fortunately, I loved his idea to be at the beach all day long. (We were also grateful for the creation of sun block.)
The beach in front of Thistle has always been my favourite. It was a wonder that we were the only ones there most of the time. Which my son and I loved. Heh.
With nobody around, both of us created our own universe. À la Bikini Bottom. Our only wish was for Krusty Krab to be nearby. As our snack portion depleted, we returned to the room. At 4:00 p.m.!
The last day. Kamal, Khalish, and I performed an ancient ritual during which parts of our souls united with the spirit of the place. Kidding. (We did pray to return though.)