Everything is different but still the same.

I am pleased to report that I have arrived in Koreas safe and sound. Tha flight from Melbourne to KL took about 8 hours and arriving in KL felt familiar as it was the same place I had stopped over on the way over to Australia in January. KL International isn't too unique compared to the few other international terminals I have visited other than it being a Muslim country with many of the women sporting Hijabs and most itinerant workers looked to be Indian imigrants who had obviously immigrated to Malaysia for the chance of making some good cash to send back home. Most seem to be bathroom attendants or cleaners equally as proud of their position and responsibilities as any visiting businessman who creates the need for their work.
Security is tight with the military prominent at the various checkpoints. Customer service is forgotten by these folk with both male and female guards aggressively uniformed and armed with either pistol, machine gun and flak-jacket. The female guards, equally uniformed add a tightly wrapped hijab to their already menacing attire which makes them seem like a cross between a bank robber and a ghurka, the end result is quite unsettling and the idea of the many opportunities, albeit remote of others to meddle with my bag springs to the front of your mind and also the notion of 'did I remember to remove my nail clippers from my carry on luggage and are the prescriptiond drugs I have with me a trafficable narcotic according to them...
All these thoughts flood your mind as you make the walk of shame through the various check-ins.
I have never before, nor ever think I will ever in the future even entertain the thought of breaking any airport rule but the moment I walk to an airport checkin I feel as naughty as a school boy awaiting punnishment outside the principals office. I guess thats what they aim for, to deter even honest "gaad fearin" folk like me from doin anything stupid.
Anyway's, getting into KL was fine and because I had arrived at 8.45 I had plenty of time to kill until my 12.40am boarding call to Incheon. So the plan for the following four hours was in no particular order, get a feed, have a rest, find my departure gate and finally check out the massage room I had spied on my way over but never managed to visit.
This time would be different and the massage was the saviour and highlight of my trip over. I will never ever go without a mid flight massage again if I have the chance as the foot, calf, back, neck and head massage I got in KL was simply sensational. I paid $110 Malay dollars for the service and a 10 buck tip to the massuer, I have no idea what its worth in Aussie dollars other than money well spent. After selecting the desired service from a menu and paying the agreed sum I was ushered into a tranquil, dimly lit room with various big black armchairs and matching stools. After a brief wash of the feet in very recently boiling water I had to submit to the pleasure, pain and oftentimes the sickly delicious agony of the finest foot massage ever.
A half an hour later and both feet basking in afterglow it was my back, neck and shoulders chance to get similar treatment. Finally, refreshed rejuvinated and relaxed after a final cracking of nearly all vertibrae and neck like i'd only seen before on tv I said my goodbyes and walked out straight-up and feeling a million dollars.
My advice- if you ever have the time, need and inclination to get a genuine asian massage, do it, its a stitch in time.
After the massage I had a great feed at a 'Dome' cafe. All-Day Breakfast at 10.30pm washed down with a Chai latte did everything to the body that the massage had missed. I ordered the Big-Breakfast, not reallys ure what to expect and had to double-take when the waitress asked me if I wanted chicken or beef bacon with my breakfast? Of course, no pork in muslim countries..
The waitress. Hugh hefner would have gasped at the sight of her swanning amongst hijab clad, gun toting security guards and bespeckled overfed Europeans. She was a serene oasis of beauty and friendliness, not to mention a tiny physique which was doing its very best to burst through the tightest figure friendly mini and button bustimg top. I was interested in her from purely a anthrapological, sociological perspective of course and found her to be a fashion contradiction within the confines of a seemingly strict Muslim society. It didn't put me off my beef bacon nor could I see any other customers detered.
My flight from KL to Incheon was in 'Claytons' first class and I relished it to the point of even getting an hour or two of shut eye which served me very well for the 'Korean' survivor challenge I would be dished up on my arrival. Claytons, first class is the first row of economy, just after business class. No seats in front of you and at least two feet of space to stretch out. Another bit of travelers knowledge i'll never forget. Request the front row!