Took a morning walk along Portobello Road with my family. As it was a Saturday, there were alot more stalls selling raw and cooked food. Lunch was in a Malaysian eatery (along the same road) called "Makan" (i.e. also means "eat" in Malay). My body was feeling so bad that I did not even want to drink a beer; you could imagine how bad that was.

Went to Heathrow in the late afternoon in hope of securing seats back home for both Mum and me. The flight was supposed to be full but at 40mins before flight departure, the check-in staff called me and issued boarding passes! The best thing was both of us even got to sit together. Anyway, I was told that there was an unusual high no-show rate for this flight. Perhaps it was due to a delayed domestic flight resulting in missed connections.

This trip was ok and the objectives were duly fulfilled. I.e. Brought Mum to London to visit Bro and made a personal pilgrimage to Camp Nou. It was not something to die for though; I had learned to give typical western European cities (with all that affluence and development) a miss. My impression of gloomy London still has not changed though Bro's wonderful hospitality savaged valuable points for it.

As of all trips that were coming to an end, I wondered if I ever have the opportunity to visit Europe (or in broader sense, the rest of the world) again. With my impending departure from being a high-flying (but rat-slimy) executive of a corporate airline, the possibilities had decreased tremendously (since I would no longer to buy cheap staff tickets). Well, one would have to let go somehow, but it is precisely when one knows what he/she would be losing that makes it all the more difficult.