Popagandhi

If you’ve ever tried to pick up someone coming overland, you have to keep in mind that you have no way of knowing if the vehicle arrived an hour ago, or fell into a ravine along the way. Or if it is caught in a city’s maddening lunch hour traffic. So it was, as I waited for My Wobbly Backpacker (a.k.a Z) to appear at the central bus station. I keep looking out for a beautiful girl in fisherman’s pants and sandals, though I really should be looking out for a giant backpack engulfing a svelte female form.

2pm: she should be nearly here.
2.30pm: looks like a busload of Singaporeans has just unloaded because there is a jump in the number of overweight Chinese children (and all of them wear glasses).
3pm: no wobbly backpacker, no girlfriend.
3.10pm: I did say I’m waiting by the donut stall, didn’t I?
3.15pm: another busload of Singaporeans must have come � 200% increase in appearance of trolley luggage and adults saying things to children like “go hotel then go toilet.. they don’t use toilet paper here one”.
3.30pm: if you’re in an accident along the North-South highway I really don’t know what to say to your parents.
3.40pm: did you really need a 60L backpack to come to KL, or do they mainly contain makeup and hair products, again?

*Wobbly Backpackers � those backpackers so inexperienced that they wobble as they pick up their backpacks, and wobble as they walk with them. Backpackers like us.