Last week, I became sixty. My husband kick started my birthday celebration in January. Yes, sixty days prior with fun presents every day. There were also loads of birthday discussions and excitement about the youngest, that’s me, turning sixty, in my family.

My sisters, who live abroad, sent parcels of thoughtful gifts long before, leading up to and on the actual day.  At home, my mum and my brothers surprised me with more wonderful presents. All in all, I was the grateful recipient of customised cards; monies; skincare products; hair clips and Alice bands; a tiny book of birthday messages; an opal birthstone; a pendant; a CD of hit songs of my birth year; a mug; underwear and T-shirts; heaps of chocolate; assorted cakes, macarons, praline palettes and pies; beautiful rosses, sunflowers and orchids; inscribed balloons; cuddly toys; and a bicycle lock and a bell.

My husband, my mum, siblings, nephews, nieces, and my in-laws came together to make my day special and memorable. My school friends and university mates sent their well wishes. I was overwhelmed. I felt blessed. I was a happy 60-year-old. 

Unexpectedly, late on the eve of my birthday, I became rather sad and a little fearful.  About my mortality and my loved ones. Death is always dreadful. Especially for the one, who isn’t. The song, ‘The farmer in the dell’ played in my head. I didn’t want to be that cheese that stands alone.  About the many years already behind me compared with what was left going forward. I have ailments that will affect my agility even more so down the road. I’ve always been active. How will this impact my life, and our plans to do more travelling when Covid-19 is gone forever.

No answers. Without worrying about death and encumbrances I thought about happier prospects like places that I wanted to visit before it was too late. A bucket list of sorts.  Many years ago, I made a list. Thankfully, it’s considerably shorter since my husband and I have already visited some of them.

One being the Rocky Mountains. I was in tears when I first saw the Rocky Mountains. I couldn’t believe that I, a small-town girl from Alor Setar, would have the opportunity to see the Rocky Mountains in person. Naturally, John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High” completed the surreal experience.

I have also visited The Pyramids, which in one word is – WOW.  San Francisco was the other. A crazy fan of Michael Douglas and the TV series, ‘The Streets of San Francisco.’ I was mighty lucky to walk the streets that Michael Douglas drove his Porsche 911 on.

Now what remains on my bucket list are the Northern Lights, St Petersburg, Antarctica and Machu Picchu. I have read and watched on YouTube how mesmerising this electrifying light and colour show is. The plan is to witness it in the relative warm comfort of our rented glass igloo or glass window cabin in Rovaniemi or Kakslauttanen in Finland. The Northern Lights can be quite elusive, and we may have to stick around for a few nights to catch it. Better toasty and warm than cold and shivering.

We had planned to do the Trans-Siberian Railway journey from Beijing via Mongolia to Moscow, and onward to St Petersburg during our belated gap year in 2012. After traversing countries in the southern and northern hemisphere and living out of suitcases that weighed no more than 20kg each (the strictly enforced weight limit on value-for-money aka cheapo airlines) for six months, we didn’t feel much like doing that train journey.

But St Petersburg is still very much on my radar.  Must-sees are the almost magical looking buildings particularly The Church of the Saviour on Spilled Blood, The Hermitage Museum, The Peter and Paul Fortress and St Isaac’s Cathedral and colonnade.

Antarctica is next on my go-to destination. Why because it’s so far away, remote, and intriguing. There’s much written about the continent.  Enough people have visited it.  And yet it exudes a pristine, almost untouched and peaceful quality, that I want to see and experience.  It will be a long (10,899 km) and expensive trek but one that surely will be enriching with its stunning seascape and wonderful wildlife. And, bragging rights, after I survive the cold.

Machu Picchu is the fourth destination on my bucket list. The mystique that surrounds this ancient Inca civilization and architecture continue to fascinate me. I hope to climb either the Huayna Picchu or Machu Picchu Mountain to soak in the views of the Machu Picchu citadel.

It certainly feels weird being sixty. Even weirder being officially categorized as a senior citizen, who’s entitled to discounts on public transport. Weird or not, the plan is to work through my shorter bucket list, while body and mind are still in fairly good working order. God and pandemic willing…