C from work has, very rightfully, commented that Kuala Lumpur’s Low Cost Carrier Terminal is mental after I posted a snapshot while waiting in line for check-in.
It’s a perfectly appropriate word for an airport that is considered one of the busiest in south-east Asia, especially when it comes to low-cost airlines, hoards of backpackers and schools of lost pensioners, disco-balling their gaze around in a chameleon-like manner, looking for directions or, simply, someone to save them.
I’ve travelled before, but this airport just left me speechless. The feeling that came to mind was raising my head to see a gigantic building or a sight – no previous knowledge and experience mattered here (except the one from there). The organizational system here is obviously mind-boggling to any westerner, especially when one realizes what it takes to go through the airport.
As soon as I got off the plane, I knew it was going to be an adventure. Bilingual (or even multilingual) signs don’t really help, because you end up going around in circles, roaming the airport in search of numerous and countless counters. People, similarly as in India, consider themselves rightful of extinguishing the signs, so they send people around to where they’ve been before. It’s a bloody maze.
Even thought I had plenty of time, I started having my concerns when I realized how long it’s taking me to get through passport check – an hour fifteen! You need to go T8, but go here first, clear customs, get the stamp, get out in the street, come back in, go to R07, go through the security x-ray, check in, get the exiting-Malaysia stamp, go to the departures terminal, then in the secured area (thirsty and hot), look around, sit down and take notes. By the time I was done and near gate T005, I felt like I have three atoms of energy left in me.
Couples take turn in electric massage chairs, Buddhist monks walk around with electronic equipment on their trolleys, a young Muslim strolls around, dressed fully in white-laced robes, wearing a matching white hat and carrying an, of course – matching, white iPad Mini.
Teenage boys all look like they were teleported from a Gangn-whatever video, girls don’t move around in groups of less than four, and they can always be located by simply following the giggling, a herd of mask-wearing Japanese just warped by me, obviously running for their flight – so much for punctuality.
The half or so hour that I spent out of the airport was so hot and humid that I’m concerned what Myanmar’s going to be like. The extended weather report went up to 40, which will probably prove to be very challenging when it comes to walking around all day and visiting sights.
I thought it might turn this trip into a lazy and laid-back one, which I didn’t think anyone would mind.
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