Saturday, June 06, 2015

Poie PD

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"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:

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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. 

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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. 

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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.

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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.

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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.)  

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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.

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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.!

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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.)

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