Kuala Lumpur


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Asia » Malaysia » Wilayah Persekutuan » Kuala Lumpur
July 15th 2013
Published: July 21st 2013
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Visiting Malaysia wasn’t part of our travel itinerary; in fact, we had never even considered it. However, with Bangladesh beheading non-Muslims, especially atheists, at the time, and us being lazy about procuring visas to Myranmar, we felt we were left with Thailand, where there were no visa requirements. While searching for tickets to Bangkok, though, we came across reasonably-priced flights to Malaysia (much cheaper than flying to Thailand) and, after a quick Internet search, learned that no visas were required there either. And just like that, we booked two tics on Air Asia to Kuala Lumpur.



Truth be told, as we discovered on the flight over, neither of us knew much about Malaysia, except for the mundane information that it is a Muslim nation, that it bordered Singapore, and - since it once had the tallest building in the world, the next one to have surpassed the Sears Tower (I still call it that) in Chicago – that the economy was probably in fairly good shape. As we exited the airport, after an amiable customs experience, we were immediately struck with the sights and sounds of an advanced and wealthy civilization, light years from what our experience had been for the previous 3 months: silver Mercedes Benz’s drove – nay, hovered - along immaculate and smooth roads; the glowing neon signs of restaurants shimmered in the distance, beckoning my nearly fasting tummy to dine in luxury; and, perhaps most unbelievably, everyone could care less that we were around - no hotel touts or tuk-tuk drivers. In another word, anonymity! All this was just as we stepped out of the airport: we were in another world as we entered a pre-paid taxi and sped onto a world-class expressway, with traffic lanes and cars that stayed in those lanes, abiding by the normal traffic rules as they signaled when changing lanes. But most obvious was the quiet… The incessant car and truck honking had ceased. I glanced over at Klaudia - she sat staring out the window in amazement; a smile from ear-to-ear had developed on her face: driving along in a taxi with air conditioning on a smooth four-lane highway, while staring out at palm trees and modern architecture, made us feel at home.



I’ve written this several times before, but it’s worth repeating: one’s experience of a place is determined by an almost infinite set of circumstances, so varied that they are impossible to list. Everyone will have a different opinion of a place, depending on where they’ve been, what they’ve seen and what they’re seeking. We had just spent a few months in one of the poorest regions of the world, having witnessed painfully abject poverty of the magnitude that, first, made me renounce hope for the world, then, second, became an aspect of our daily life, something we’d become accustomed to and almost no longer noticed. The man with no legs rolling himself around on a board with wheels who once made me cringe and almost sob had become commonplace – something to walk around just as one walks around a hole in the street. In Kuala Lumpur – as an Audi passed us on a highway conducive to speeds above 35 mph, and as we passed a race track for the Formula One Grand Prix - we realized we had returned to progress; and we were delighted at the opportunity.



“Where would you like to go?” asked our taxi driver in real English.



“Do you know a good hotel?” I inquired.



“No, I
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klaudia looks like she's going to the prom with harry potter
don’t.” I turned to Klaudia, confused. Was he trying to tell me that he didn’t have a friend or relative who owned a hotel? Was he saying that he did not have a hotel that would pay him a commission if he took us there? What did he really mean by “No, I don’t”? Was this some sort of new sales technique I’d not yet experienced? Were we still in Asia?



“Umm… Where do all the tourists go?” I asked.



“All over. I will take you to Bukit Bintang – there are many restaurants and hotels there. You can look for one there.”



“Ok, sounds good,” I replied, to which the taxi driver turned on the radio to a classic rock station. My mind was in disarray. This is what ancient peasants must have felt like entering Rome for the first time.



It was a long, but comfortable ride to our destination. We exited the taxi - stepping onto a sidewalk that is, after Sri Lanka, India and Nepal, where they’re customarily lacking, something for which I’ve gained an acute appreciation - and were immediately accosted by a hotel tout, providing me the reassurance that we were indeed still in the same dimension. This was a very short-lived feeling because, after inspecting a few hotels along the street, we learned that with economic progress comes a concomitant growth in prices that were out of this world. Ok, perhaps that is an exaggeration, and the sticker shock has lessened since we’ve traveled around Southeast Asia, but, again, one’s perspective is determined by one’s past: an average price of $30-40 for a room seemed astronomical when compared to the $3-10 we’d just been paying.



After settling in, we took to the streets, which, we quickly noticed, were full of the Western influences of massages and ladies of the night, but not without some sort of Islamic influence at the same time in the form of a intermittent signs posted around the streets reminding devout Muslims that they were not allowed to partake in massages and other corporeal pleasures. It is an interestingly tolerant nation. Also, more importantly to me as a married man, it is a country of potable water, thus, not only did I rinse my mouth with tap water after brushing (oh, how I missed that!), but I hit street food with a vengeance - satay, bbq pork, fresh fried fish, noodles and rice of all kinds, grilled beef… I was full within minutes, but still had sufficient room in my belly to stop at a street-side restaurant for some grilled prawns, clams, lobster tail and frog’s legs. Oh, and a couple beers, of course.



“What’s the exchange again?” I asked Klaudia when the bill came.



“3 to 1.”



“Hmm… Is that possible? That would make this bill $60,” I ruminated. I checked my conversion app again and received the same answer Klaudia had provided; I then asked for the menu. I knew beer was going to be expensive in a Muslim country, but, we hadn’t paid over $10-15 for a good full meal for the two of us in a long time. Along with the hotels, I now realized the food was going to sap our budget as well, or at least some of the food, like prawns, lobster and clams – the usual types of foods one would find expensive. It was another welcome from Progress.



“Well, we would have paid over $100 for a meal like that back home,” I said to Klaudia, trying to rationalize in the manner of the unemployed, long-term budget traveler. Well, we’d just have to be careful. It tasted so good.



With its cost effectiveness, my predilection for tasty street food only swelled, and I spent our next day in KL eating in between our sight visits. We also paused at an unbelievable donut shop for breakfast, and washed down the donuts with a coffee at Starbuck’s next door.

"Most of the developed world is pretty much American, but they just don't know it yet or simply refuse to admit it," I wryly said to Klaudia as we sat there in the air conditioning, staring out through the window at a Subway, McDonald's and other fast food joints. But she only shook her head and didn't take the bait, so I sipped my coffee - I have no issues with globalization.


Commencing our sight seeing, our first stop, of course, was the Petronas Towers. As the tallest building in the world for six years, and the tallest twin towers to this day, the Petronas Towers were built over a span of several years by two companies from two separate countries: Tower One was a built by a Japanese consortium, while Tower Two was built by a Korean one. The towers follow an Islamic minaret design, which is dominant in Muslim architecture. Viewed from practically everywhere in the city, the Petronas Towers rise above the city as the pinnacles of Malaysian development they were meant to symbolize. However, our visit to the top was postponed for a bit as tickets were sold out until the early evening.



To pass the time, we walked a bit to Aquaria KLCC, which made Klaudia feel like a little kid again. With its moving sidewalk through a surrounding, gigantic aquarium, the likes of which one would find at Sea World - full of dangerous looking sharks, gliding stingrays, and other large fish - it was truly a state-of-the-art aquarium. The place of was full of giggling children tapping the glass to various aquariums and reminded me of my childhood field trips to museums in Chicago.



We returned to the Petronas Towers at our designated time. I had read in several places that it is advisable to get in line early at 6:30 am to obtain tickets to the Petronas Towers, perhaps even buy them a couple days in advance. However, with an avid abhorrence of lines, I’m not one to get in them at 6:30 am for anything (except maybe a Tom Waits' concert, whom I haven't seen live yet). We had no issues obtaining tickets on the same day standing in line at a reasonable late morning hour, though, again, the tickets were for the late afternoon. Once the visit began, we were directed to a clever contraption: the wall’s edge let out streems of steam that acted as a screen for a projector. The images, literally dancing if you breathed too heavily, acquainted us with the history of the towers and some of its impressive statistics. At the film’s conclusion, it was time to head up to the sky bridge on a super-speed elevator travelling at 420 meters per minute. The views from the bridge, suspended in mid-air between the two towers, were splendid, and even better from the 88th floor observation room. We noticed the KL Tower, the fifth largest communications tower in the world, in the distance. We strolled to it as evening approached for a sunset view of the Petronas Towers. KL’s a nice town.



The following day, we caught the monorail (KL has an extensive, easy-to-follow transit system) to Chinatown, where we roamed the street markets and ate delicious Dim Sum: it was all just the beginning of Malaysia’s true culinary delight. Afterwards, periodically finding ourselves lost, we took a very long walk to the National Monument, built in commemoration of the individuals who had lost their lives fighting for independence. We then had another long stroll to visit the National Mosque of Malaysia, construction of which was completed in 1965 both as a symbol of the country’s main religion and as a symbol of its independence from British colonial rule, inaugurating a new progressive civilization and newly-achieved democracy. Personally, I thought that symbolization had been realized and I believed that the progress would only continue as I noticed billboards announcing various slogans of development, such as “Malaysia: a completely modern and technologically developed country by 2015.” I’m no expert, but I saw no reasons it would not be an achievable goal.


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