Exploring KL sights

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So Neina is heading to Frasers Hill on a school trip, where the air is cooler and apparently vipers just casually cross your path and health and safety is less than paramount on a 'dicing with death' type jungle trek with kids, in the pitch black. Let's get with the Malay way...? So Neina's flatmate Anne takes me down to the nearest 'Starbucks' (of which there are a depressing amount) and I book myself my first hostel experience.

I do the backpacker thing and walk til I find my hostel, set up camp in the female dorm and will myself to stay awake...I choose action instead of sleep and book myself on that evenings pub crawl (it is Saturday night) and here begineth name tags, booze, drinking games, very dodgy music and some nice people.... I don't know whether or not it was the jet lag seeping in, the sudden thrust into a weird social situation or the apparent lack of actual alcohol in the drinks but the alcohol was not taking effect. To cut a long story short, I met a very interesting Indian guy full of stories and made a couple of contacts I will meet up with in Thailand....slept it off and took the noisy bull of a city by the horns the next day. East meets West, old meets new...the dichotomy felt so real and it was changing before my eyes as I walked past the brightly lit massage parlours and through the high end shopping malls and out into the dusty streets.

My first impressions - quite hectic: development everywhere, commercial craziness, Western consumerism a plenty. I like the transport and ride the monorail with childish excitement whilst everyone else looks nonplus but decidedly less grumpy than most London commuters. There is a real diversity of souls here (mainly Malay, Chinese and Indian) and the sights, sounds and smells happily confirm this. It feels tolerant, eclectic and colourful. I stand out. I feel new. I feel aware of myself but I also feel safe and welcome. I start off navigating my way out of Bukit Bintang via rice and vegetables thank you very much! and my tired feet end up in Merderka square north of Chinatown, the sun setting and sights seen. I was grateful for Merderka square; a little pocket of calm, families playing with their little ones, tourists milling about taking photos. I sat and I looked and I let go of a breath, that until then, I hadn't realised I was holding. Old British colonial buildings lined the cricket pitch on one side with the domes and peaks of the Malaysian Textile Museum on the other. Palm trees lined the street and high above me flew the Malaysian flag (one of the tallest flag poles in the world) with KL's skyline towering in the surrounding distance, lit by the golden hues of the setting sun.

This was a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Chinatown where I had just come from. As I had walked through Petaling road in Chinatown I soaked it in: every item you could think of...jewellery, clothes, watches, shoes, hawker stalls with whole roasted ducks (beaks and all poor sods)....unwanted heat blasting from roasting chestnuts, refreshing cocunuts waiting to be guzzled by passers by and all above me hanging lanterns. I plodded through the crowds to seek 'Central Market' and on the way found myself laughing like a mad person. I think I may have stumbled upon mini India within Chinatown! Smiling and laughing like an idiot I shout "This is crazy!" but of course no one hears me amid the bengali music, locals talking and eating, buses honking, motorbikes and cars all jostling to cross the 4 forks in the road. Here, it is advised you stop at a red light you don't actually have to....safety in numbers - just go with the crowds.

Inside Central Market I've found my Aladdin's cave and my magpie instincts take my body on a journey through jewels, saris, trinkets, artefacts and souvenirs galore. I want to join the women trying on their headresses (I've seen all types already from habebs to full on burkhas) I tell myself this would be grossly innappropriate! and instead continue my meandering. I resist the dark blue harem pants and beautiful bag and settle for salt and pepper prawns for lunch. A quick trip to the facilities (best make use of them whilst I can find them), where in true British style I pay the man and watch the locals walk in. Hmmm. I avert my eyes from the suspicious brown markings on the wall and tell myself it looks nothing like what I have just eaten, NOTHING!!

I loved Central market but Merderka square was tranquil and beautiful as the sun went down. I made my way back to the monorail, saying goodbye to my peaceful haven and descend back into rush hour madness. As I walked, the heat of the day was still upon me and the buildings seem to be in line with my body. They didn't groan but instead released their toil of the day, dripping what seemed like sweat from every crack....and I find myself telling them off - they've had years to get used to this heat and I have had less than 48 hours. How dare they spit at me! I resign myself to be mad only to be met by two guys going the opposite direction on their mopeds; one has a large office fan whirling on his lap, the other a monkey dressed in leopard print....hmmmm again.

As I buy my ticket back to backpacker land the mosque's call to prayer aptly marks the end of the day for some and time for some to pray, some to reflect and well, some to just carry on with their high speed journey amongst the frenetic fun of the city. I know it's not my religion but the call from the mosque is calming and as a tourist in a new city tends to do, I walk a few good hundred yards in the wrong direction before getting my bearings back...the inevitable tourist backtrack...oh it's a bit scary but oh so worth it. Goodbye comfort zone...hello world!

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