✈️ To Singapore

Warning: This is a long post. Proceed with care and patience.

Part one here.

Because our flight were delayed for quite a bit, when we landed, there were couple of ground staff to assist transit passengers whose next leg of flight is about to depart soon, quickly to their respective boarding gates.

Since I’ve got about an hour, I wasn’t considered late. Pfft. Rushed to and through the long security line to get my carry-onssssss re-x-rayed and when I’ve finally cleared, I only had 40 minutes left. At that point, I still didn’t know which gate and which building I’ll be boarding at and, most importantly, I’ve yet to do my prayers. *panic*panic*panic*

After few elevators and train to my get to my gate (oh the hassle), I finally reach the lounge.

For the past few trips, my gate seems to be riiiiiight at the end of the world wing. So if this time I’m boarding from the same gate, they either need to put me on a buggy or put me on the next flight.

This time, I was really, really, lucky. Like seriously. It was the first gate, to the right of the receptionists and to their left was the prayer room.

My heart literally went, ‘Alhamdulillah, Thank you Godddd’ as my leg whooshed to the ladies prayer room.

I literally chopped chopped did my ablution, peacefully did my prayers, played with a little boy accompanying his mother to prayers, chopped chopped put on my skincare again (aircraft’s air is seriously dry. Gave me nosebleed and flaky skin all) and ran past the cafe area, bidding adieu to the pastries that were shouting for me (cried a little inside guys) and ran behind the receptionist area to my gate.

As mentioned above, my gate is right at the front, first on the right. After running past the receptionists, I decided to brisk walk, cause entering the aircraft sweating is just. not. cool.

By then, the flight status was already ‘gate closing’ and the staff at the counter shouted to me from afar, going, ‘SINGAPORE!?’ and gave me hand signal to walk faster.

I was instastory-ing that moment (masih, eh aqilah. sempat sangat. #priorities) and with 4 carry-ons and a phone, and looking for my passport all. at. the. same. time, I couldn’t even raise my hand to signal her a ‘yes’.

So with all that I had, I gave her a soft ‘yes‘ and whatever pace I was walking was the best that I can give her. Hahaha. My carry-ons were really slowing me down. >.<

Since most people have already boarded (nothing new), I had to go down myself and luckily, a staff by the lift kindly helped me call for it (the lift), seeing that my hands were full. Bless that woman.

When I FINALLY stepped in the aircraft, a stewardess helped me with 2 of my carry-ons and despite all that help, my paper bag still banged on other passengers (yes, plural. *hides face*) .

OH.MY.GOD. Such ruckus in the morning.

I really Thank God no passenger made a complaint against me or kick me out of the plane.

Met an old couple on board and one of them gave me a smile and chuckled when he saw me unpacking LeeRoid.

I gave him a ‘You got your wife. I got my LeeRoid,’ smile. Bahahaha.

So yeah. That was probably the busiest transit I’ve ever had in my life. *dramaaa*

The first thing that I did after fastening my seatbelt was switch on the massage chair. GAWD. I SO. NEEDED IT.

Packing. Lack of sleep. Running here and there really took a toll on me.

Was looking for it in the previous aircraft. I guess that aircraft is a newer A380 but one feature that was not available was that. So, I’m just so grateful to be in this older new aircraft.

Ya feel me!?



Never switching this off for the next 7 hours. Bahahahaha.

*7 hours later…


…. and a moment of can you please let me be and allow me to control my TV at my comfort, 😂😂😂 #rebel #controlfreak #controlissues*


I touched down safely.


Poor LeeRoid has had a long day. *criesss*

Shafa once asked me, prior to flying back home, if there’s anyone fetching me.


Then I went on to tell her that when you disappear quite frequently, there’ll come a point in time where no one sends and pick you up anymore. The person who sends and pick you up is the taxi uncle or aunty.

So this happened.












They’re sooo sweet and I’m getting diabetes (choy ah!).

They were off to watch movie after fetching me, without me, worrying that I’d be jetlag and shagged whatnots. Puhlease, me? Jetlag? Jetlag can’t touch me. I’m invincible to jetlag and before they could even whip their ez-link card out or join the taxi queue, I packed both of them in the car that was sending me home.

Three of us finally meeting and ditching me for a movie was part of their plan? Na-ah. Ain’t letting that happen.

So when I finally reached home, salaam and kiss my nenek, meet the new helper all, I went to my room to look for my parcels of clothes which I have been buying for the past one year. Only found 2 boxes of scarves. No clothes. Hmmmm, I’m gonna be doomed but I’m also gonna be okay.

*calms down* open suitcases* panic again*



Luckily these two quickly turned their stylist mode on and helped me put together a decent outfit.


As you can see, I only have shawls and my furry friends with me.

The best part?

My clothes are only coming to me in 3 months time cause I chose freight by sea. #goodluckaqilah

(This post is being published three weeks after. So another two and a half months of goodluck to me.)

After few rounds of ‘yes this is not bad’ and ‘no, I won’t walk beside you if you wear that’, we finally set our foot out of my house with me looking pretty decent.


As you can see, I’m wearing nothing fancy. Haha. All those trouble.

But seriously, without these two, I’d probably end up going out in a long gown and Tat Seng slippers rationalising formal clothes meets super casual footwear, don’t judge me, you ain’t no Tyra Banks, *flipsshawl* and all that shenanigans cause we all know how I’m sooo more than capable of doing stupid things like that, hahaha.

With that, my day ends through 3 cities, with an eighteeeeeen hour flight, a short ‘Hello home, I’ll see you tonight,’ a partially empty train ride (miss this! Say goodbye to London tube.), a trip to the movie theatre and a simple dinner before heading back home to retire for the looooooooong day.


Two of my few other rocks.

I heart you gals many many.


Oh, and, I take back about being invincible to jetlag. 15 hours of uninterrupted deep deep sleep for the next few days proves otherwise. Haha. Oh wells. *shrugs*

Share with me your most longest or most dramatic flight! I’d love to know!

Sultan Hassan Mosque

As promised in one of my earlier Egypt posts, I’ll save my favourite for the last. Aaaaand, unfortunately, we’ve come to the last Egypt post (unless I go back there again then a new saga shall begin). Hehe.

In Islam, there are 4 school of thoughts, not in order of anything, 1) Hanbali, 2) Maliki, 3) Hanafi and 4) Shafi’i.

I would’t say much about which is more strict-er then the other or how we reference ourselves to them cause 1) I’m not a scholar, which leads to 2) I might give wrong information.

The Sultan Hassan Mosque is also known as the 4 Mazhab/Madhab Mosque.


At first I wasn’t expecting anything aside for the charming worn brick(?) wall here. But the moment I stepped into the inner compound of it, it was breathtaking.

The very first thing that caught my eyes was the marble flooring that was very. very.very different than other mosque’s.


If you think this is beautiful (or not), wait till you see more.



I love seeing kids playing in mosques. Maybe because I grew frequenting a particular mosque, seeing kids playing and running around makes me relive those days.😍

If at this age I’m running around as freely as those kids, it wouldn’t take long before the security guard joins the fun and chase me out. Bahahaha.

Gahh…. being kids have it’s own perks. *jealous*

Anywho! The tiles! I digress….


It’s like everywhere you turn the tiles are calling you.

I was thiiiiiiiiiiiiiisssssss close to lying on the floor and roll around the entire area. It does not help that the place was empty. I just wanted to hug the floor.

I even wanted to get a penknife/scalpel and cut out the marble floor, roll it and bring it back home.

I know I sound cuckoo and crazy but I’m very sure that that’s nothing new to you.


I’m about to burst with passion about this floor guys, so, before I do, let me move on. *wipes virtual tears*

It was almost asr when we saw a door, that we could go into to look see more, got locked by one of the imam.

So the three of us just looked through the hole-y door to see what’s inside when the imam approached us and kindly brought us in.



If I’m not mistaken, this is one of the lecture area, maybe.

The grandeur is ah-may with a zinnggg.


The mosque is called the 4 Mazhab (school of thought) mosque because student/scholar in either mazhab can meet in (technically) one place, split themselves into the different area (school) for exchange of knowledge.

From where I’m standing is considered one mazhab area, the opposite, another mazhab area, to the right and left another two different mazhab area respectively.

I’m not too sure which is which though.

I’ll let the pictures do the talking.


God! We’re coming in!





Contemplating if I should start rolling from there. 😝





God, is that you? Hehe. I’m here!

If you ever get the chance to visit Cairo, I recommend you to visit this mosque.

It has an entry fee. There’s student discount as well if you bring your student card. The entrance fee allows you to go into two mosques which is this mosque and Rifa’i mosque which is in my earlier blogpost.


Remember this mosque guys.


When the call to prayer and success calls you.

Sighhh… I miss this place already.

And this lovely people, is the end of my second Egypt trip. May there be a third.

But most importantly, may you reach here too!


🌍: Sultan Hassan Mosque a.k.a.4 Mazhab Mosque, Cairo, Egypt.



No trip to Egypt will be complete without visiting the pharaohs resting place yes?

I remember the last time I went here, it was very crowded. Full of tourists. But thanks to the media portraying the condition of Egypt wrongly, saying it is dangerous and whatnot, this leads to decline in tourism which makes this tourist attraction empty which also kinda means that we get this place to ourselves.

Before pyramid fun, we also went to see Sphinx where I manage to do some public service of…


scratching it’s itchy nose.

I guess all these thousands years being there, it still could not get use to the dust. Teehee.



Not too sure what Aisyah is badly wishing for. Maybe rain or a lower temperature. Hehe.


Some touristy shots that our guide/driver made me do which I tried to push it to Aisyah/Shafa but they just ignore me. *glares at them*.


*breathe in*breathe out*

One day I’ll make them do touristy shots on our homeland.

 But for now, I’ll just release my inner energy of


air bending. Hehe. Not bad la eh.


Niways, my maiden trip was probably a decade ago and the (very) young me was very scared at even the sight of the camels.

But now, I grew some balls and decided to give it a go. With a condition that either Shafa or Aisyah joins me.

Banyak punya berani! The minute we paid to get on the baby camel, regrets came pouring in my head.

Baby camel or not, it is HUGE!

Reminded myself that 1) I’m covered by insurance and 2) if someone boast that they’ve fallen off a horse whilst horse riding, I could act cool and say ‘Horse? Nahhh…I’ve fallen off a camel,’ beat that.

I mean, I would like to say that I’ve caught a bullet for someone (on the hands or something. No life threatening spot) but for now camel sounds good. Heh.






Wait. till .they .stand.

2 metres above ground with only a stick to keep yourself balance with no seatbelt nothing, it’s amazing I could even smile for the photo below.b

Obviously the camels only cared for each other. Shafa, Aqilah, who, what?

Picture above don’t do justice to how high we were. Either that or I’m exaggerating.

But don’t worry guys, we totally connected after the ride.


Eye contact and all. *winks*.


See you next time Jamal!

🌍: Pyramid, Giza, Egypt.

Al-Azhar Mosque

If Oxford has University of Oxford , Cambridge has University of Cambridge, Singapore has me (flips shawl), Egypt has Al-Azhar University and Al-Azhar Mosque.

Fyi, Al-Azhar University is considered a prestigious university in Islamic education. Obviously the lack of Arabic vocab and Islamic education foundation in me makes me a muggle that dare not even whiff the air around the university. (Don’t worry. I’ve passed by it. It looks brown). ✌️

But this mosque accepts anyone irregardless. Phew~

Situated in Hussein, it’s a little similar to Amr ibn Aas Mosque but definitely different vibes and history.


The carpet and ceiling is similar is Amr ibn Aas’s yes?



This has got to be my favourite picture. The three of us were crossing through the open courtyard when this elderly man was just sitting and resting pretty much away from any corner. Just somewhere nowhere. Hahaha.


With not 1 but 2 inattentive body guards. What if someone kidnaps me!?




Dear God…. My two bodyguards needs to be sacked! Bahahaha

🌍: Al Azhar Mosque, Cairo, Egypt.


Warning: Post is image heavy.

One of the area that we explored in Cairo was Hussein. It’s like a shopping district.

Consider it like Geylang in Singapore or Masjid India if in Kuala Lumpur. Except with more arabs.

First pit stop was none other than Hussein Mosque. This mosque has a very unique history.

Hint: Head and body got separated and buried in different places.

I remember it being very crowded and after a long day, we went in no more than 5 minutes. Brushing shoulders with a throng of people in a densely packed room is never in my itinerary.



When Aisyah says pose, you better pose. Even if it’s half-hearted facial expression.


Apparently this room keeps something of high historical value and this fasting brain can’t remember what it is as this post is being drafted.

It’s opened on rare occasions and only ministers are allowed in.

After that, oooohhhh! AFTER THAAAAT!

We went to one of my favourite shop in the whooole wide world!

Fine. After supermarkets.


❤️ A very heartwarming bookstore. ❤️


Choosing notebook to customise.

There’s a guy that will engrave your name for free. #cheapohere!




But before that!

I wanted my notebook to engraved in arabic.

The ‘Q’ in my name stumped me when converting it in arabic character.


Probably pissed this two figuring out how to write my name in arabic. Bahahaha.

Then comes a heroin to the rescue.


Whilst discussing, this lady who came before us approached and offered to help get this confused child sorted.

She’s teaching in a university in California(?) if I’m not mistaken. An Egyptian getting souvenirs for her little family back in another country. If a local personally get her souvenirs sorted there, trust me, everyone is in good hands. 😉

Whilst chatting, she told me that Hussein has 13 roads, where each has a different history. Shame we didn’t have time.


The three of us made a small memory with this book. Made as much abbreviation as we could. One of it is my go-to designer: Jovian Mandagie.






Before we left, we went to the juice shop that both Aisyah and Shafa was hyped about. I was only hyped about the fact that they had food. Fruit is food too hor. #glutton.

 I was pretty impressed by the system.

You’d approach grandpa and tell him your order. Pay and he’ll give you one of the little circle token you see in his cute lil’ orange basket.

Bring it in to the juicing staff and voila!

No fancy printing ticketing system or even cashier machine.

Old school, just the way we sometimes need.

Love and miss the vibe of this area. *bawls*


🌍: Hussein, Cairo, Egypt.