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Published: April 18th 2006
-- KUALA LUMPUR --
...Finally embarking on the adventure that for so long had seemed like a distant dream, I failed to put pen to paper as I tried to describe the melange of thoughts and emotions running too fast for my mind to translate...
...My solo travel through Asia: first stop - Malaysia. This conjures images of an exotic land, rich in culture and beauty. Driving up the west coast to Kuala Lumpur, such preconceptions do not appear fallacious. Irritated and uncomfortable in the bus, I am nonetheless impressed by the surrounding landscapes of emerald green palm trees and native bush spreading miles beyond visibility...
...Yet still, still there is a distinct inertia to continue travelling that makes me feel homesick. If Singapore was by any means preparatory for Asia then it was purely on a climatic basis, for by now I am becoming accustomed to feeling the asphixyating heat of the equatorial temperatures. Though of course the clean, orderly state of Singapore is culturally distant from its Asian neighbours...
...Arriving into KL, outside the former colonial railway station, no sooner had the bus stopped than the hoards of local taxi drivers began crowding themselves
at the door, hungry for their feed; their staple diet being tourists wanting to be transported to the city centre. Absorbed in my own self pitiful state of affairs, I ignored the prowl and collected my luggage. I eventually negotiated a price for transport to town and was oblivious to the drivel of the taxi driver as he entertained himself with idol conversation in which I had no interest. I know. sound like an arrogant, self absorbed, culturally ignorant westerner... which at that particular moment, I probably was. I asked for a ride to the Istana hotel on Jalan Sultan Ismail, and allowed the concierge to help me with my bags before asking for directions to the hostel, for as much as I would've liked to walk into the five star marble floored hotel, I was a backpacker and my reservations were elsewhere. Walked through the crummy backstreets, strapped with 20kgs to my back and front, being gawked at by locals, until I found the place. Gladly I had a four bed dorm to myself and spread my things out. The hostel was basic, but clean at least. Without all my usual tourist accessories, I draped a long black shawl
over myself and stepped out into the stifling, smelly 30 degree heat...
...In the pouring rain, I met another traveller, interning in Sabah but visiting KL. The rain plummeted faster and harder than any I've ever experienced, and we were soaked to the skin. Purchased a train ticket to.. somewhere. Then descended into tropical downpour once more before boarding the monorail. Squelching our way into the cabin, we went the wrong way. Again. Finally ended up in the right place. Cold, wet, hungry and homesick I was in no mood for the hawker food available on Jalan Alor. I craved a taste of home. A piece of toast, some cereal, anything! By the time we walked the length of the street, one long stream of open food stalls selling a variety of eateries that I cringed to even look at let alone digest, I had a stomach ache. En route back to the hostel I bought some fresh brown bread rolls that I munched on for dinner... It's one of those "why the hell am I doing this?" days...
...Thursday was an improvement. A busy day ahead with a never ending "to do" list of more planning, organising
and decision making. Where to head next? The couple downstairs helped to decide. Penang it was. Walked to the bus station to book a ticket. Already drenched with sweat, I now had one tick off my checklist. Then, off it was to run the next errand, and the next, and the next. Whacked and weary, I stopped for a quick fruit juice before trying to find a payphone from which to make the phonecall I'd promised. 40mins later, hot, sticky and exasperated, I discovered that my 30RM card was un-usable, paid for a call to Ant and to home. I suppose I felt better in the knowledge that it was business as usual back in England whilst I - ought to be enjoying exciting Asia. (no offence guys)! Made some purchases including white trousers, pink shoes and some sweet hot chinese doughnuts and headed back, utterly exhausted. Still, as evening fell, I couldn't leave out a visit to the famous Petronas Twin Towers. Out again. This time in flip-flops, avoiding yesterday's mistake of making my shoes minature swim pools for my feet. If I wasn't already distinguishable as a tourist, I certainly was by the time it began to rain
for the locals were sheltered by their umbrellas whilst I stood soaking wet in the downpour. At the traffic lights in flip flops, linen trousers and a t.shirt, a kindly chinese woman took pity and held her umbrella over me to share. Thanking her, I stood back to let her continue her journey yet she gestured for me to walk with her awhile. Realising the rain wasn't going to cease anytime soon, I carried on toward the Towers. Beshovelled by the time I got there, I browsed around the KLCC shopping centre and.. searched out the bakeries. Sigh. Aleem, I cannot believe the effect you've had on me. Found 'BreadTalk', impressed by the interior layout, I took some photos for you until I was told to stop. Thank me later! Did sample some bread too. Nope. Nothing hits it like European bakeries. Back at the hostel I collapsed in a messy wet heap. My jelly like muscles had just about enough strength to pack and to shower...
... It seemed only moments had I laid my head on the pillow that the alarm rang. I gathered my belongings and once again hauled the 20kgs of my beloved belongings onto
my back in search of a taxi. Got to the Purduraya bus station where I waited for the bus to Penang. That was where I met Ninna...
-- PENANG --
...Ninna, a german student interning in KL, made my Penang trip bearable, enjoyable and everything in between. My transition to Asia had not been smooth. Despite being mentally prepared, being hosted by Michelle and having once before experienced the vigour of India, I was more homesick than ever. And this time it wasn't just the people I missed, it was England itself. The cold, wet streets of London, my rushed walks down Piccadilly, the vibrancy of my yoga class, the understanding of my yoga teacher, wholesome healthy chocolatiers, food, hygiene, sparkling clean bathrooms and great conversation. Anyhow, I digress... I waited on platform four for my bus. It departed from platform five. Of course it did. Though the bus itself was something to be marvelled at: resembling a business class airline, with wide spacing reclining seats and leg rests I lay back, catching up on the requisite info from my Lonely Planet guidebook. The bus to Georgetown stopped in.... Sunghai Nibong. Of course it did. I mean,
where else?? Grrrr.... It took Ninna and I a longggg twenty minutes before figuring out that we were in fact on the south side of the island, and had to take a taxi to town...
...Checked into hostel. Oh my God. I want to go home. Now. This cockroach infested prison cell of a room with decaying orange walls and concrete floors was an emotional assualt. Exchanging mutually disgusted glances, Ninna and I headed out to explore. Not a huge improvement, but a preoccupation nonetheless. As ever, I had more errands to run. Post, bank, and (somewhat comfortingly) my departure to Thailand. The folks here in Penang were no more hospitable nor helpful than those in KL. Of course, I do not want to make sweeping judgements about all Malays; I'm simply describing my own experiences...
...As it began to rain we stopped at a cafe in Little India, the remedial properties of the rain were welcomed. By the time we got back to the hostel, my head was pounding with undecided thoughts about where to go next, how, when etc.. Despite this, and our indescribable fatigue, neither of us slept, the entire night conscious of our unpleasant
surroundings to put it mildly. We were therefore early to rise and get out in search of breakfast that was not hot, heavy and spicy. Failing this, we settled for tea, Malay style i.e sugar, water..a few tealeaves, and more sugar! Still, it provided the carb injection required for the bus journey to Teluk Bahang where we proceeded to walk 4kms in the midday scorching sun in search of the Tropical Fruit Farm I longed to see. Walking, or rather, arduously trudging uphill we walked in silence, the both of us conserving energy. An hour later, arriving at what at what seemed like a closed down deserted farm barred with iron gates I could only smile and take it in my stride as part of the travel adventure. Besides, I was in a manner, enjoying the exercise and the tranquility of the hillside, a welcome retreat from the polluted congestion of the town. Onwards to the next adventure we caught a bus back to the centre and then to Iyer Itam; the locals finding great amusement at two lost foreigners. Got there eventually. Amongst the street stalls, one stood out as steaming fresh laksa was being continuously poured into bowls
for the queue of local customers. Ordered two bowls as well as fresh sugar cane juice squeezed on the roadside. We slurped the steaming hot laksa with chopsticks, spicy but our first feed of the day. Once we'd reached the bottom of our bowls, we stared desiringly at the roadstall making fresh spring rolls and other fried delicacies. Reading my thoughts, Ninna got up and ordered a plateful. Feeling full, we made the walk through the market place to the pagoda described as one of the finest on the island. Arriving into the interior I'd have had no difficulty in agreeing. With it's colours, designs, intricacy and grace, it represented all that I'd imagined a buddhist temple to be. Back to more organising, the old woman was right, travelling alone requires being on the ball. All of the time. Rested my head an hour or so on the excuse of a bed, this time not even attempting the futile, not to mention frustrating visit to slumberland. I simply waited for my 4am bus to the 'land of smiles'.....
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