Going overseas

One of the questions I often get asked is: Have you ever gone to another country? This is understandable given the enormity of the task of moving me, with my physical weaknesses and all, plus my mobility and medical equipment, abroad on aircraft or ships. Such a complex logistical operation defies imagination, which is why the answer to the question above is no.

Not in recent history anyway.

The truth is that I wasn't always the way I am now. My medical condition deteriorates over time. This means that I am much weaker now than I was when I was a child.

When I was a child, my sitting posture was a lot better and my trunk muscles a lot stronger, allowing me to move around in a baby stroller instead of a customised wheelchair. Furthermore, I could sit in a normal airline seat without falling over. My overall constitution was also healthier. All of these meant that my parents could bring me along on vacations. I was quite well-travelled as a kid. By the age of 10 I had been to Malaysia, Thailand, and even Australia.

The last trip I went on and the one I remember most clearly took place 12 years ago in Langkawi. It was a three-day holiday with my parents. We stayed at Pelangi Beach Resort, in a cosy little private chalet with a balcony and easy access to the sea and swimming pool. I lost one of my milk teeth on that balcony, and saw a real live pond skater (a kind of insect) in that pool.

The customary photo of the plane before the flight.

Just across the road from the hotel was a restaurant called Laman Padi. Apparently it's still around! The food there was so delicious and affordable that we returned two or three times during our stay!

#foodporn wasn't a thing back in 2005 and neither was #selfie. People on holiday actually took photos of one another using separate devices known as cameras, after which they would simply store the pictures because there was no such thing as Instagram. Oh how did we ever survive???.

We also ventured further afield. Langkawi is so small anyway. My dad drove around in a rental car with the guidance of a paper map. GPS technology wasn't so advanced yet, there were no smartphones back then, and my dad scoffs at those navigation aids even to this day. I was extremely obsessed with a spot on the map that said "cement factory" and kept asking if we were there yet like those irritating children in TV shows that go "Are we there yet?" incessantly. Needless to say, when we eventually got there, it turned out to be an anticlimactic jumble of vehicles and machinery. Oh well.

We also found various places of attraction such as the Underwater World and Cable Car. They might as well have called the Underwater World the Zoo of Langkawi because it had all kinds of animals including land-based ones like mongooses and anacondas.

Anaconda!

The Cable Car was quite literally the height of awesomeness. Sentosa's version can go fly a kite. The Langkawi one ascends the side of a steep mountain and takes you up to an altitude of 715 metres. At the top there is a deck for you to stand and admire the scenery. The view is breathtaking (the air IS rather thin up there...) and worth the heartstopping ride in the cable car, which jolts and rocks violently in the wind, evoking visions of the infamous Sentosa cable car disaster.

A view from inside the cable car of the small town at the base of the mountain.

The base of that mountain is also the site where I first tasted a carbonated beverage. Nowadays I can't do without them...

That particular holiday holds a special place in my memory because it was the last time I got out of this boring little island home of mine. These days, I rely on a motorised wheelchair with a backrest that is specially moulded to my body shape. It cannot be brought into an airline cabin and must be checked into cargo, but that would mean that 1) I have nowhere to sit while on the aircraft as I can no longer support myself in a regular airline seat, and 2) the wheelchair may be damaged due to rough handling by the crew, incurring hefty repair or replacement costs and leaving me stranded with no way to move around.

Which basically means that I'm going to be stuck here for the rest of my life, and all those times I sat staring out of the window watching the runway rising to meet the airplane, or playing multiplayer racing games (read: other passengers trying to play racing games while I just wanted to crash my virtual car into everyone else) with other passengers on the in-flight entertainment system, or being wowed by exotic sights, sounds and smells in foreign lands, will become artefacts of a time long since past, fading memories clung to tenuously, eroded by time.