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Published: January 5th 2007
"Ex-SAS types with easy smiles and expensive watches - Rolex? Omega." Ouch.
When Jamie and I planned our trip it was mutually concluded that New Years should be spent somewhere busy, with the potential to provide a memorable night (for good reasons). Consideing our location in peninsular Malaysia the capital, Kuala Lumpur, was the only real candidate and so we booked our tickets out of KL to Borneo for the 2nd. Stuck with this schedule, we ended up staying a little too long in the hot, dirty city.
Now, when you have so little responsibility in your life the concept of dates begins to fade and so I'm going to reconstruct the last few days as I see fit.
Merdaka Square and the National History Museum Merdaka Square is a large, imaculate grass square, conspicuous in its location on the fringe of KL's ramshackle Chinatown district. Apparently the square used to be a parade ground or some such - but this is besides the point really, as it was surrounded by interesting buildings (an ornate Mosque; strange, mock-Tudor period restaurants; the National History Museum), and that was excuse enough to wander around and take photos like a
responsible tourist. Because we are well-educated and thirsty for culture we went to the National History Museum (joking of course - we correctly indentified it as the nearest an air-con retreat). The museum's exhibits were relatively interesting but there is only so much information a young man's brain can take and so we ended up exiting after a brief tour.
Batu Caves One morning we caught a bus to the nearby Batu Caves. We knew this was a good idea as soon as we boarded a local bus and found John Travolta working as a conductor. It was like looking in a mirror, only not. In truth he wasn't fat and only looked like the original JT (and therefore like a lizard) when he smiled but hey, we were sold. The main cave in the Batu system is a vast cavern, the entrance to which begins high up the flat face of a sheer mountain. To reach the cave you climb a huge flight of stairs, which are flanked by an equally large golden statue of an Hindu god (educated guess - the area is heavily populated with Hindu shrines). Obviously a picture will paint a thousand more
accurately descriptive words, as soon as I can upload one via the archaic net connection that serves Borneo. The cave itself was pretty cave-ish and so the whole affair was brief. We were entertained on our walk back down to ground level by the gangs of Macaque monkeys which capitalise on generous tourists. The highlight of the simian circus was when one stole a large bottle of water and bashed it open to get a drink. I was of course
obliged to take a photo.
Other, Pre-New Year Events of Lesser Importance * We went back to the local Reggae Bar a couple of times to shoot pool, drink beer and generally pose.
* Looking to find some other travellers we ventured as far as the local Irish themed pub on the other side of town (and past it, actually, because J let me map-read). This was devoid of westerners under 50 though, so we just ordered cokes (always ready to party), watched football and split.
Have to interject with the scene unfolding around me as I write. Two guys are in the lobby with me (a Northerner from the UK and a Chinese guy) and they are quizzing the two female receptionists of how to find women to have sex with. I'd think they may be joking but, really, I can't tell.
* Went to a traditional Chinese Tea House where I beat J at chess and drank excellent coffee.
New Years Eve and Leaving KL
The day began with a trip to KL's plush KLCC shopping mall where J bought some shorts (on sale, ace) and we both ate a traditional Malaysian breakfast - Nasi Lemak. The meal consists of coconut rice, dry peanuts, dry anchovies, a boiled egg and a curry-ish sauce of unknown consititution. I hated it. Jamie loved it. Must have been nutritious.
With a couple of hours to kill we somehow found ourselves queuing for Casino Royale. Not wanting to rock the boat, we bought tickets and went to see the film for the second time. Like a fine wine, it just gets better wth age. Unfortunately, it doesn't get any shorter, but I can overlook the relaxed editing (more galling was the savaging it received at the hands of the Malaysian censors to remove sex and death scenes, many of which are important to a
Monkey
Theif.coherent Bond film plot). Obviously watching the film revived many in-jokes, and we particularly loved the in-film Omega watch commercial.
Back at the hostel we began to prepare for the Eve' ahead, in the best way we know how: Gin. Hollywood Gin in fact: at 7 ringitt (a pound) a 500ml bottle this stuff is officially more rubbish than Glen's Exciting Vodka, sold at Chicago's Elvet Stores in Durham. Mixed with Sprite (criminal, I know, but there was nothing else) the gin tasted of bubblegum. We bought more.
The plan was to hit KL's megaclub, Zouk, for a budget-killing but memorable end to 2006. So we (only just) squeezed into a carriage on the LRT (monorail-ish public transport) and set off, excitement in the air. We only needed to survive the crush for 3 stops but, upon arriving at the first, we were greeted with a huge crowd of people who also wanted on. I think both of us were mentally preparing to become intimately knowledgable with whoever happened to be next to us but, much to our suprise and relief, everyone waiting the train realised the sheer impossibility of getting aboard, and actually broke out in laughter
KLCC
Shop. Eat. Bond. instead of trying to force their way on. Don't remember that ever happening on the Underground.
Zouk Zouk (www.zoukclub.com.my) consisted of a cavernous main room playing hip hop (Bar 19), a roof area, an upper room playing indie/electro/girl/boy psi-fi synth pop, and an underground area that we wern't permitted to enter (Klute VIP). We arrived early and it was quite quiet so we ordered the drinks included in the cover charge and watched the clowns, locals and fire-breathing midgets (honestly). We drank steadily till 12 when we went to the roof for the fireworks. Unfortunately, they never really came. Apparently this was because it was also a Muslim holiday and, well, I'm not sure of the particulars but at the time we were quite happy to just go dance. Flitted around the club all night but settled down in the indie room, dancing with the riotous locals to: Muse, Bowie, Killers, Postal Service, Trash, by Suede, Disco 2000 by Pulp (J singing it with a Peter Jackson lookalike) and various others. The local clientele was extremely friendly and many a hug and a "Happy New Year" was bestowed upon us. J embraced the opportunity to try and improve international relations via the medium of dance; I was, according to one of the girls, "Too moody". As if. Walking home from Zouk, tired, hot, hungry and thirsty, we were befriended by an Indian guy working in KL, who invited us to come to India and stay at his home. It was never a possibility but he was so sincere and in love with his country that I said we'd try our best.
Don't Believe Everything You Read The Lonely Planet has become something of a bible for travellers and we have relied heavily on it - planning our route to the airport to catch our Borneo flight was no exception. Therefore, we were dissapointed to find that the Planet had neglected to mention that a whole new airport had been built in KL for domestic flights
10 months ago. Excellent. We threw money at the problem and it went away, allowing us to catch our flight (but not after we had to guess which counter we needed for check-in, as the signs were displaying misinformation).
Borneo
I heard once that Borneo is the third largest island in the world, after Australia and Greenland (maybe) and, since I'm too lazy to think of better opener, I'm going to go with this (potentially true fact). I spent a couple of months here, in Sabah (one half of Malysian Borneo which is, in turn, one half of Borneo, the other being controlled by Indonesia. Brunei is also here, for good measure), in more first gap-year, volunteering at the Orangutan Sancutary and just generally mincing around. Therefore I was interested to go back, for nostlgic reasons and to show Jamie around. As well I remembered, Sabah's capital, Kota Kinabalu, is particularly bone dry so I hoped we wouldn't have to spend much time there (here). Unfortunately, Jamie was a bit ill (he ate out the night before at a Steamboat stall, where you cook your own meat, arranged on skewers, in large vats of boiling water in the centre of the tables. Not being hungry, I had stayed at home so it was just him and a Canadian girl from our hostel. In hindsight, a good decision on my part) so we decided to stay a day or so. The remainder of or our arrival day was particularly slow (much reading of books) and was enlightened only by (much) conversation with an extroverted Aussie girl who had just come down from climbing Mount Kinabalu and was in town to rest before getting a flight on.
Manukan Island As we were going to be in KK another day before heading on, we planned to hit a local island the next day with the Aussie girl, Helen. Jamie's attendance was in the balance (the rest of him was in the toilet) but, most probably spurred by the fear of a day alone in the hostel with only the slightly scary, women-hating, obsessive-compulsive German ghost lady also sharing our dorm for company, he decided to brave the beach. We caught a small boat over and settled into a relaxing day of reading, swimming and getting completely owned. It went a little bit like this: hungry by lunchtime, we approached the beachside BBQ buffet, which appeared to be the only option available to us, with trepidation. Manukan is a resort island and we expected an expense. When we were told that the all-you-can-eat meal would set us back 16 ringitt each (2 quid-ish) we were quite relieved. Sure it was above our meagre budget but, considering our position (bargaining posture highly dubious, hungry) we greedily accepted the invitation to take a table and eat. The meal was above-average (squid, large prawns, satay chicken etc) and having fed our fat faces for a half hour or so we were pretty satisfied and pleased with our achievements.
It was then, with perfect comic timing, that the waiter brought our bill. 180 Ringitt. 60 each. Too dehydrated to cry, we laughed it off, paid and made obligatory 'chalk it up to experience' comments. After all, we only spent a whole day's budget on one meal...
That was the day today and now, back at the hostel, nursing sunburn (Jamie's is, again, spectacular), free Internet beckoned and a new masterpiece was written. Until next time, dear readers.
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Bouche
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Theiving Monkies
Crap records in the 60's and now i find out that in there retirement they're stealing from tourists in the mystic east. Bastards.