England has always been and still is a special place/destination for me.

Weirdly, when I was growing up in Alor Setar, I used to either dream or imagine about sycamore trees in England. Yes, weird. Why? Because I didn’t know what a sycamore tree was or looked like. And, I didn’t know what England was or looked like either. This was back in the day when there was no Google to look up information, much less a computer or a smart phone. All I had were school books, and hardcopy broadsheet newspapers.

And yet, I had this recurring dream or just my imagination conjuring up images of sycamore trees, which in my head were big, tall trees with loads of leaves lining the streets and growing between houses in England. Again, a country I was clueless about. So, when I finally landed in England in 1982, courtesy of sister number 3, I was exuberant. My first overseas trip. I had just completed my first year at university, and was on my  semester break. How opportune.

I remember… Sister number 3 worked at St Bart’s Hospital, and stayed in a nurses’ hostel. It was so close to St Paul’s Cathedral, where Princess Diana and Prince Charles got married (the first time). We walked all over London. To the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, Hyde Park, Harrods etc. The buildings and roads were so different from what I was used to. The architecture was grand. We hopped on buses (a new experience as I had never been on double-decker buses) and travelled on the underground (another new experience as there were no LRT or MRTs then) when we needed to. I lost count of the number of ‘wows’ I mouthed.

We watched two plays and one musical during my stay. I thoroughly enjoyed ‘The Pirates of Penzance.’ It was the first time I had experienced performers emerging from the stage and from amongst the audience. It was so uniquely clever and exciting. Back then, nurses were given tickets and/or discounted tickets to plays and shows. Yay.

Sister number 3 and I also went to Paris by ferry from Dover. Another first for me. Two foreign countries visited at a go from not setting foot outside of Malaysia. The ferry journey felt endless as I didn’t/don’t travel well on water. Never mind. I remember … We went to a Sri Lankan restaurant the first night in Paris. Yes, why? It was open. It was late. It was across the road from our accommodation. It turned out to be a pleasant surprise. The owner was a kind and welcoming gentleman from Sri Lanka. He not only spoke in Tamil, he treated us to dinner, and arranged for his staff to take us around Paris. Chaperoned by two young men, we visited several touristy places. Plus, takeaway food for our return journey. All true.

After that holiday, I returned with my mum to England to attend sister number 3’s wedding in 1988. The journey was an adventure in itself. First, there was a bomb scare on Turkish Airlines. The flight was cancelled, and all the passengers had to disembark. We chose not to stay at the airline’s designated hotel that night. Instead we returned home to Subang Jaya, where/when we lived with brother number 1 and his family. The next morning, we were back at the airport for the rescheduled flight.

We took off ok but landed at New Delhi airport, which wasn’t a planned stopover. Istanbul was. My mum and I sat in the airplane on the tarmac for hours. We finally took off and arrived in Istanbul late in the evening. I cannot recall seeing any friendly faces at the airport or at the hotel that we were allocated. No lifts and no porters, I had to carry both our luggage up four flights of steps. My mum and I were assigned a room on the fourth, and highest floor. If that wasn’t bad enough, we were asked if we would share our room with a total stranger. At that point I was running a fever and not friendly myself.

My poor mum worried about me and stayed awake all night, frightened to go to sleep, just in case we had intruders. Hmm. Next morning, the coach to the airport didn’t show up. My mum and I, and two Malaysian students, who were in a similar predicament, hailed a taxi and got there ourselves. The bus did arrive, much later. Once in the airplane, the flight was without incident.

We missed my sister’s hen night but were present for the wedding. Yay. It was there that I met my husband and his family. Since we got together, we visit England regularly. For my husband, its a ‘Balik Kampung’ of sorts. For me, it’s still a special place/destination.