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Published: February 17th 2010
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So this is where it all began. I still remember how I felt the first time I glimpsed Kuala Lumpur; the tallness of it (London Fen-like in comparison) the glint of the skyscrapers in the tropical sun, the smell of spices and incense mixed with hot uncollected rubbish, an unfamiliar paradise to me then.
I've seen more skyscrapers and Asian cities since then and KL is no longer the daunting and dense metropolis it once was, it's positively spacious and bubblegum light compared to some, but it's still nice to be back, to appreciate it in different ways. KL is like a training ground for the rest of Asia, the kiddie pool you learn to swim in before you jump into the sea. A simplistic but hopefully valid analogy. KL is an easy city to get to grips with, everything is in English, the transport systems (both local and national) are easy to navigate, fast and cheap (considering the great standards), and there's always an air conditioned mall (with McDonalds ........just joking! Obviously you're gonna head to Burger King) to take refuge in if the traffic gets too much. Every little slice of Asia is represented with food, culture and
language, with rainforests, caves, beaches and islands a short journey away by bus, boat or train.
Since my last visit to KL many more western companies have sprung up and there seems to be Nandos, Boots, Tescos and Topshops' where I don't remember them. But it's still an awesome mix of modern Asian commercialism (glass monoliths, monorails), old English colonialism (grand central station, the Tudor-style manor house and cricket ground in the very centre of the city), and Religion (the ornate mosques, temples, the gilding). Those are the Big Things. Filing the gaps between the Big Things are the food and drink vendors with their clear vats of acid-bright fruit drinks and ever frying woks, durian fruit stinking up the sun-warmed streets (yet tasting delicious), and roasting chestnuts. Market stalls selling knock-off Gucci bags, pirated computer software and Indian jewellery. Over all this is the Islamic leitmotif - permeating the city via the patterns in the stonework, Arabic street signs, colourful headscarves. There's not so many BIG experiences to have in KL but there is always something to experience, it feels like you could just slot right in.
The current Malaysian PM is doing his annual meet
and greet at a huge conference centre just out of the centre of KL. Malaysian politics is not my forte (and has some serious policy failings according to people I've spoken to, Malaysian and not) but there is free food, and gatherings are always interesting. It feels like half of KL is there, the line would put disney world to shame, spreading over at least 5 floors and what feels like miles, cameras flashing madly as we draw closer. There is a free buffet before and after the meet and greet and we get to try hereto undiscovered Malay delights.
Friends from the Cameron Highlands, Rebecca, G and I (we are later joined by Rachael who had left the highlands a few days before us to go to Taman Negara, - translated as
National Park - one of the national parks with the oldest rainforest in the world) stayed in a little bubble of bohemia in china town called 'La Village'; Three levels of charmingly worn colonial comfort, decorated with hanging chairs and potted plants, covered in bright and brilliant artwork. It's G's birthday so I run out and get him a little cake from one of the many
bakeries (thank you The English for your love of food with cherries on) and we make him blow out the candles in the open air rooftop lounge, as we chill out on well used sofas and the heat of the city seeps in. I hope he wished for Indian food and an England rugby match on tv, because that's what he got.
Rachael and I attempt to go to a golf course for a cheeky round, knowing how the Malays LOVE their golf, but we get distracted by shiny things on the way to the monorail station when we pass through little India and decide it's a
much better idea to buy saris instead. I fall in love with this beautiful one made of royal blue silk, as heavy as a small child and about as expensive. Moving down the price scale I find more beautiful material, embroidered grey and black silk, ivory edged blood red silk which also weighs too much. I don't think British Airways accept
'but it's pretty!' as a valid reason to exceed your baggage allowance. So I go for a lovely dark red material with gold edging that's light and not going to
use up my food budget for the week. Rachael chooses a light green which suits her perfectly and the lady in the shop expertly winds the material round us. We buy matching jewellery (40p for a million bangles) and head home.
That evening we have plans to attend Ladies Night at the Hard Rock Cafe in the CBD in full dress. Ladies nights are all over Asia like a flannel. We try to re-create the Bollywood look….we can't, there's too much material and exactly how are you supposed to fold
that bit? It's an art we are not adept at and our look is more fancy potato sack than Bollywood glam. That doesn't stop us from enjoying the experience however so we crack open a couple of beers, listen to some music and await Rebecca's return before dressing western once more and heading out for the night.
Ladies night means free drinks for ladies, mostly wine, some strange frozen drink. We smuggle drinks for the guys too, whilst watching a live band onstage who were possibly jazz, possibly not. We were all far more captivated by Al and Rachael's 'Dance Off'. On account of it being
captivating. It could have gone either way, both of them pulling out moves only previously thrown by professional Shape Throwers. BUT! just as it looked like Rachael had Al licked in the stamina stakes, Al pulls out the
Crab! It was a bold move, one that could have gone horribly wrong for someone not familiar with such high risk disco-ing, but he put it out there and walked away from the floor a champion. The outcome wasn’t without contention however; who was the
true winner? Is it style or substance that's important?
To most of us, the important thing was that the drink was free and we managed to drink our way through the white wine and into the red before heading back to the boys' hostel for guitar times and tea at 6am. The Haven Hostel where they were staying is run by the affable Evan, half Chinese, half Malaysian, some part English and all Giant. Seriously, he's one of the tallest people I've ever met, at around 6 foot 5", closer to 7. His smile is almost as big, and he
never sleeps, so he had no problem with the guitar. I met him first in
the Cameron Highlands where he retreats every few months to sleep for three days straight. He drove a few of us round to the see the sights and eat Chinese food and he'll happily give lifts to people between KL and The Highlands should he be making the trip. Go stay at the Haven if you’re ever in KL, he’s really lovely. And there’s some mean air-conditioning going on if you're into that kind of thing.
Despite the tea, I felt like hell in the morning as the hot Malaysian sun beat down through the curtain-less windows and the thick sticky street air choked up the room fans (not helped by overzealous air con units on every building and even more aggressive buses). I was heading to Langkawi with Al and James and needed Rebecca 's help to drag my heavy bag (thank you Little India) through that cloying noon atmosphere and the throng of KL in rush hour (rush hour=any hour) to the Puduraya bus station (only ten minutes from the hostel, but in a world of hurt), where I collapsed onto the cool stone bench to await Al and James. When they arrived I ate all
Batu Caves
now with new golden god their paracetamol then trawled the hundreds of ticket booths for a direct bus to Langkawi. I found out that they ran only in the morning, whereas it was now around 1pm.
We decided to go to Penang.
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