Most of my friends have in the past year, whined about not being able to travel.
And yesterday's travel ban by Hong Kong made things worse.
Most of my friends miss eating catered food on the plane very badly, and even go as far as to say they miss having their ears blocked upon landing.
I am unlike most of my friends: I actually love being grounded.
I am what a friend in the travel industry describes as a reluctant traveller who flies around only because I have no choice.
Stanley my sex bunny friend is the exact opposite.
Reluctance is firstly not found in Stanley's dictionary especially when it comes to "flying around".
My idea of a holiday is being cooped up in a resort, switch between reading a good book and watching Netflix in bed, and once in a while, stretch my legs and sit at the balcony sipping coffee.
Stanley can accept my kind of holiday if there are certain modifications.
He's more than happy to be cooped up in a resort but the kind of activities he'd do in bed wouldn't quite involve Netflix or a book. And trust me, the very type of leg stretching he'd do would differ from mine too.
The topic of travelling is bubbling in our group chat recently especially since Singapore has been on its on-again, off-again bubble travel with various countries and cities.
I can imagine Stanley starting to do various leg stretches to warm up to the theme of borders reopening. Stanley the sex bunny is always excited by the opening of any sort of borders.
Watch out, boys. Papa Stanley is getting ready to prowl.
Stanley's favourite part of the holiday, he says, is not the actual holiday.
This throws our dense friend Carl off balance, who cannot begin to grasp the meaning of that sentence.
"Why are you talking like the Dailai Lama, Stan?" asks Carl the gym rabbit, whose favourite part of holidaying is helping old aunties put their luggage in the overhead compartments.
"The actual holidaying is fun," Stanley says though I dare not ask him what fun means.
"But holidaying is like a one night stand. The actual sex is one thing. The anticipation, the foreplay, the after-sex exhaustion is something I enjoy more than the sex itself".
Carl, who is lost amid the twists and turns of the plot, decided to fade into the background.
But I do get Stanley's point.
The entire travelling experience comes in a big package, and I can appreciate that Stanley loves those big packages.
For me, well, I enjoy fastening my seat belt and drawing up my window shades only when I'm travelling with J because I have him to myself.
Our first trip as a young couple was to the nearby Genting Highlands.
Back then, we were in our early twenties and weren't exactly Crazy Rich Asians, so we opted for an affordable holiday.
We took an 11-hour coach ride from Golden Mile Complex, and I remember sleeping on J's shoulders in the dark, air conditioned coach, feeling the synthetic rubbery touch of his blue windbreaker on my cheek.
There were many happy moments in that Genting Highland trip captured by glossy Kodak-printed photographs.
We were one year into our relationship when we took that vacation in 2003 and that was also the year I learnt that J had a fear of heights.
We were halfway into our cable car ride when I felt J's hands sweat: He didn't want his fear of heights come in the way of my excitement so he suffered in silence.
Stanley later said anyone who dared to ride me would break out in cold sweat and fear too.
I remember getting J a cup of hot chocolate after the ride to help him calm his nerves.
It was a memorable day. The taste of the sweet hot chocolate amid the cold Genting air and knowing that J had wanted to make me happy. It felt warm and fuzzy.
A year later, J and I went further.
We were in Chiang Mai where I again was impressed by him.
J was great with topography -- he could read maps a lot better than I, and he had led us around in an unfamiliar city.
Stanley said that was no big deal, given that in NS, Stanley was one of the best map readers. And he's also great with pornography and can take the lead in exploring unfamiliar territories.
During our 2004 trip to Chiang Mai, J and I fell in love with each other all over again.
The two of us had fallen ill from street food and during that trip, we had taken care of each other, making sure the other party felt better.
J later said that Chiang Mai would always have a special place in his heart because it reminded him of our first crisis, and how we both were capable of loving and taking care of one another.
Throughout our near 20 years, J and I had taken many memorable trips together and each one had its own meaning.
Like how some housewives would return from each trip with a fridge magnet, J and I would come back from each of our holidays with a special moment that marked another milestone in our relationship.
But with friends, I am not that accommodating.
I find all sorts of excuses to turn down travelling with friends.
I'm too old to explore caves and white water rafting. I'm too old to shop till I drop. I'm too old to try out new food places, whether they're in high society circles or in the far flungs of some dark smelly alley.
But once in a while, magic happens.
Four years ago, one of our university classmates Ming decided to tie the knot Down Under.
Stanley, who is always excited by developments down under, spurred me to go.
And so, I dropped work momentarily and said I Do to Ming who invited me, our other classmate Sa Sa and her husband B whom we also met in university.
It was the most magical vacation because being the Type A vacationer she is, Sa Sa planned everything. All B and I had to do were literally to just show up with our passports and go with the flow.
It turned out to be one of my happiest vacations with friends.
It came at a time when I was nearing the peak of my career and needed a break from working non stop.
The same was for B, who, like me, is serious about making our piggy banks swell.
The week-long trip was unforgettable.
For me, it was a combination of various things: Spending quality time with the most important people in my uni life, and taking a break from the stress I was then going though.
Despite being well travelled at that age, there were many magical moments waiting to be felt.
During that trip, Sa Sa checked us into a huge house right in front of the Great Ocean Road.
We had one of the best and longest dinners facing the beautiful view.
Sa Sa had whipped up steaks, and set the fresh oysters we bought from the local market on our huge dining table.
That evening, we feasted, chatted and drank way too many bottles of wine.
When we were finally satisfied from watching Act I of Mother Nature's dramatic crashing waves performance at the dining room, we retreated to the living area where we watched Act II: The dance of the hypnotic flames of our fireplace.
It was winter when we visited, and like excited kids, B and I took turns to chop up chunks of wood to feed the hungry fire, which in turn licked our plump pink marshmallows into perfect, brown melty crisps.
When night time fell and Sa Sa and B retreated to their warm nest, I stepped out to the balcony to feel nature.
The entire plot of land we were on was shrouded in absolute darkness. The winter air was cold and biting. I could feel the howls of the wind and hear the sounds of the waves crashing unto the shore. But I could see none of those elements. While I had intended to watch the stars, I felt being watched instead -- an intruder who dared venture into the mysterious dark side of nature.
It wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling. It was creepy but in a way, memorable.
When I related this experience to J, he immediately knew what I meant. Stanley too, said certain creepy experiences can be sexy.
Regardless, as we revisit the topic of travelling, I once again find myself a reluctant traveller -- this time, even more so.
I do value the importance of holidays -- if not with our loved ones, then on our own, just for sanity.
I'm also all for not being overly paranoid during this period.
But there surely must be a clear line between rushing out to enjoy ourselves, and safeguarding our health against this virus.
Complacency or false hopes of a vaccine shouldn't be our passports to our next destination.
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