Thursday, November 18, 2010

Krazeee Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia's East-West melting pot

It's Wednesday Nov 17 today – I’ve been in Kuala Lumpur since last Tuesday the 9th, following my escapade on a derailed train out of Singapore.

I have been taking it pretty easy so far here in KL, getting to know this metropolis a little more intimately by spending the first few days wandering about on foot with no real pans other than to explore. I've been to KL 4 times now, this is my 3rd visit in the last 2 years, so you'd be right to think I'm quite fond of this place. I've tried explaining to others I've met here so far why I've kept coming back, and I cant seem to articulate any one reason, but in my mind, I like the vibe here. It's a crazy city in many ways.
Traffic altercations are frequent in KL

The roads and traffic are one of the first things you notice – there are no traffic rules here. Well, there are, they just don’t apply most of the time. Crossing the road here can be harrowing experience. There are a lot of cars, and even more bikes. Red lights don’t necessarily mean stop, and zebra crossings are little more than some [yellow] lines painted across the road – they don’t mean the same thing here as they do in Australia, they're merely cosmetic. Luckily I remembered how to deal with crossing the road here – when you see a chance to cross, lights green or red, you go. Hesitating will be your downfall, resulting in either injury, or a seriously long wait to cross to the other side, if at all. One of the constantly amusing sights for me here in KL is watching apprehensive tourists trying to cross roads. Usually in groups, at a break in traffic one of the group will step out onto the road at which point they check to see if their friends are following, by which time a group of mopeds and scooters are already on target, hurtling towards them. The lone “crosser” moves back to group. This can happen two or three times, each taking a turn, before they get frustrated, and either start repeatedly pressing the traffic lights button (if one exists) or more often, a simultaneous “power in numbers” approach, albeit as hastily as possible. There is one junction in particular that I now avoid, simply due to the timing of the traffic lights, right turning lanes and so on. I actually waited there one afternoon, to see how long it took before I actually got the green-man to cross the road. I gave up after 9 minutes.

I've even tried walking down one way streets in the opposite direction to traffic - seems a safe approach as you can see all on-coming cars - but it turned out to be just as dodgy as any other road, if not moreso, since motorbikes were whizzing past me from behind..travelling against the designated one-way direction.
Tabung Haji Building
Traffic here is chaotic. That's the best description I can give you. There are lines painted to separate lanes – but they aren’t used. Wherever you can fit your vehicle, you can go. But it seems to work. And there is little road rage, if any. Chaotic roads is normality here in KL. Even the Malays claim they are some of the worst drivers in the world too!!

Rubbish and sanitation are the next things that jump out at you – especially compared to clinically-clean Singapore. There's quite a lot of rubbish in the streets, the drains smell putrid in the sweltering heat, and the water here is consumed from bottles only. Tap water here is to be avoided – odd considering that Singapore get all their water from Malaysia yet you can drink tap water there – one can only assume they have some pretty serious water treatment facilities. I went past the water treatment areas on the way to Singapore Zoo – but of course, entry by unauthorised persons was strictly prohibited, signage sporting a soldier in army fatigues pointing a gun at the trespasser. Toilets here in KL are a gamble too. While many places have western style setups, plenty do not. Instead you get a hole in the middle of something that resembles the base of a shower, a raised foot platform either side, and more often than not, a hose to clean yourself with. Furthermore, even in the giant, air-conditioned shopping centres, the toilets are generally not air-conditioned, and thus it's not the most comfortable of experiences. But I'm getting to know this city rather well now, and tend to know where I'll find a western style toilet, so that's handy.

Etiquette - there are a few things to be mindful of here in Malaysia. Due to the large Muslim population, alcohol isn't sold in many restaurants or shops, and nor is pork. Instead of pork or bacon, you can get turkey-bacon, which i've had before, and it's by no means a worthy replacement for bacon. Chicken and beef are by far the most common meats on menus. With respect to drinking, it makes sense that it would be polite, respectful even, not to enter a Muslim's store or restaurant with an open beer. 
The other behaviour to be aware of is pointing. I think it's a Muslim thing, I'm not sure, maybe it's a Malaysian mannerism, but it's rude to point with your finger. They point with their thumb! 

So I spent the 1st two nights in a hotel to try and get a good rest. Hostels are great for meeting people, but the downsides are they can be noisy with people coming and going at all hours, and so a good nights sleep isn’t always guaranteed. But I’m sure it just takes getting used to.

The hotel was cheap – but fairly impressive in terms of the quality of the lodging. I'm talking about $35-40 a night. This place had a pool, a restaurant, bar, and a disco. The pool looked great the night I got there, beautifully lit with a fountain gushing water into the pool. In daylight though, the pool wasn't so appealing. I think it was more for show than for having a dip. I was also lucky enough to have my room upgraded upon check-in. Bonus! That got me a big-ass King Size bed, and a balcony looking out into the KL mayhem below.

I spent my first full day walking around the city. First to check the awe inspiring Petronas Towers – they really are grand, majestic buildings. I had two firm plans for the day – neither of which I thought would take too long. The first was to head to the Bangladesh Embassy to find out about how I go about applying for a visa, the requirements, cost, etc. I didn’t yet have a map of KL – instead navigating by memory, and a very unhelpful picture of their location on my iphone. As I still had my Australian sim card in it, using the gps wasn't an option. I needed to head north-east of the Petronas towers to government district up on end of Jalan Ampang (Jalan = Road).
Instead, I ended up more east than north, outside the Pavillion shopping centre. Which was actually fortunate, because by now it was about 1.30pm, and I was hungry, and the Pavillion has a particularly good food court, with all kinds of Asian cuisines at good prices. To my surprise, they now also had a Nando's stuffed into one corner of the food court. Nandos is cheap here too, compared Aus of course.

I got myself some local nosh, a Ginger Chicken Kuay Teow – and soupy flat noodle dish, with egg and massive chunks of ginger. Very tasty! 6.80RM (Ringgit of the Malay currency. Roughly 3RM = AUD$1)
I sat myself down opposite what I assumed was a local Chinaman. In Malaysia there are many Chinese people who consider themselves Malays – hence the term local. He was joined by a Malaysian bloke, who quickly struck up conversation with me asking me if I was on holiday. These guys turned out to be really nice and both spoke very good English. The Malaysian man was named Zaccharia – and had studied at Monash in Melbourne. I told them about my plans and so on, and had a chat about costs of things here, in Australia, just general chit chat. They offered me some of their food, and went and bought me a Teh Tarik – which is a local, malay-style tea, which is poured back & forth from one jug into another, to give a really frothy head. Good tea too! Zaccharia worked in Superannuation for the Defence force here in Malaysia. His Chinese counterpart worked for one of their investment agencies or something. I asked them if they could point me in the right direction to get to the Bangladesh Embassy – or to the closest RapidKL station (train station) – Zaccharia ended up walking me down there after we'd finished our food.
In the end though, wherever he had taken me, there wasn't a RapidKL station. But I had a rough idea about where to go on foot, so I trudged on.
It probably took me near on an hour though to finally get there, after a couple of wrong turns and back tracking. It was really hot and humid so I had to stop off for fluids a few times.
A coke here in a servo will cost about 1.80RM – so that’s like 60 cents.

I finally made it to the embassy, dripping with sweat.. No air-con here either, just a fan, and a room full of what I imagine were Bangladeshi’s. To my dismay, I would get no help here today, as they were closing.
“Come back at 9.15 tomorrow” I was told as I was ushered out the door. Damn. I wanted to come to the embassy early on, because I suspected that it may take a few goes to get this visa organised. How right I would be.

Royal Selangor Golf Course
I walked back to the nearest train station on the way back – I'd probably walked for about 3 hours already for the day already and the heat was draining me. My next mission was to head to Chinatown, and then a little further, to a department store called Sogo. It's where the locals went to get clothes. Cheap – decent brands and rock-bottom prices. I got myself 3 pairs of Pierre Cardin sports socks for 19RM.
And a half-decent shirt for 22RM. Bargain! You know you're in a good, local shopping area when you're the only white-boy around. I'd probably spent another 90 minutes exploring the streets on my way there, so with my plans fulfilled, I was knackered, and set course for the hotel for a rest. The evening was spent in the hotel restaurant eating and righting the 1st instalment of this blog. An early night.

Thursday morning, and I had to check-out of the hotel and make my way towards Chinatown, actually, more like the Little India district where I would be spending the next 4 nights at a hostel called Back Home. The hostel was highly regarded, and cost only 42RM per night. And indeed it was an excellent hostel. Clean, modern, had a cafe, and a leafy outdoor area in which to relax. And especially comfortable beds to my surprise. Thursday night I was to catch up with Marco, whom I'd met in Singapore. I left the hotel on foot in search of the hostel – it was about a 10 minute walk with the backpacks. As I hadn't rested as much as I'd have liked at the hotel, had a siesta upon arrival.
About 5pm, while I was chilling outside, Marco came marching into the hostel with a wave and a big grin on his face. He'd just come back from Taman Negara – one of the oldest rainforests in the world, which he proclaimed to be an amazing experience. We caught up on our recent activities – turns out he had met a pretty Dutch girl who had just moved into the city for 3 months – so he wouldn't be staying at the hostel. We would hook up in the evening and hit the town for some drinks before he left for Langkawi on Friday morning. Upon returning to the dorm room, I met Ty – a Canadian of Vietnamese descent. He had just come from Thailand, and before that, Vietnam, where he was visiting family. I mentioned my plans to head out later to meet ze German and his new female acquaintance – he was keen to join us. We would reconvene in the dorm around 9.30pm to head out to the Bukit Bintang area ..the main drag in KL for night-life, eating, massages and shopping,to meet Marco.
In the meantime, I went for a walk – with the intention to get a beer, however I had gone in the wrong direction, and was standing on a corner scratching my head, wondering where the shop I saw had been, when a an ageing Chinese Malay approached me, and asked me what I was looking for. This guy turned out to be an absolute character. And a walking encyclopaedia. He was born & bred in Malaysia. Chinese parents, who had put him into an English school as a child, which he was most grateful for. While heavily accented, he spoked excellent English, if not more proper than we would. And he liked showing it off. Every now & then he would whip out his pen, and write a word on his hand and ask me if I knew this word. I knew the words, but to be fair, these were not words we use often – good works, like bleak, opaque, oblong and so on. He was a very intelligent bloke too. He thought it hilarious they way one letter in English can totally change the meaning of a word. His favourite example was Bleak – and Leak! “Totally different” he would exclaimed. And went on to say that most Malays wouldn't know the word “bleak” - because the education systems nowadays was poor, and went onto proclaim “there future is bleak hahaha”. But he was a really interesting fellow. But he wouldn’t stop talking. After an hour standing on the corner, I we sit down somewhere & get a drink. He still wouldn’t stop talking. It was non-stop, but he was interesting and so I quite enjoyed listening to what he had to say. About the government here. The populace, the way communities are quite segregated here in Malaysia, the penalties imposed for drug trafficking, but penalties which were not uniform, since the King could, and would, fairly frequently, by the sounds of it, grant Pardons to those who were in favour in his eyes. And then about how power and money are ruining the world, how we are being watched by cameras all the time now, being controlled. Nothing I hadn’t heard before, but he was such an animated fellow and his own take on it all was enlightening. After about 2/2.5 hours it was time for me to leave, I got the impression he must have been a fairly lonely soul. He gave me his number and said if I want to get a drink and talk again, he would be very happy because he would like to make new friends. I had asked him about his family – but I felt it was a sensitive topic – he mentioned a son, but said little more. He looked fairly poor. He had a job, but he definitely wasn't living the high life. He talked of his desire, all his life to travel, but that he has never had the money. He had been to Singapore, but that was all. He so wished to see Paris – he even spoke some French which was impressive. And some Spanish too. Self educated he had told me. He also loved Cliff Richard – and had seen him two times, once in Malaysia , and the other in Singapore. He was quite the raconteur, the story clearly bringing back memories as he smiled and laughed at how far away he was sitting at the concert, but how much he had absolutely loved it, and how he would probably never see him in concert again. A really, really nice old man, genuine and interesting, but he seemed very lonely which was quite sad. Poor guy. Oh, and his name was Nelson.
Tasty Indian meal in Little India

After I got some food it was time to head out to meet Marco. We picked up a random dude along the way – an Estonian boy who had been working in Australia for the last year. We met him at a train station where he was trying to raise some cash to get home, by selling a fairly new iPhone 4. The rest of the night consisted of drinking copious amounts of beer at a bar. I couldn't have too late a night though, I had to get to the embassy again for my visa before 1pm, and Marco had an early flight to Langkawi – and Lydia, Marco's new found lady was joining him, but going by bus early too. Ty piked early, leaving us with the crazy Estonian, with whom I would end up stumbling through the streets of KL with for a while before deciding we didn’t know where we were, and opted for taxis.

Friday morning – nearly afternoon. I was up at just before midday and had to get my skates on to get to the embassy in time. Luckily the train station was nearby, and on the same line as the station I would alight at.

I made it to the embassy by 12.30. On their website, it clearly states Visa applications would not be accepted after 1pm. I had made it in time. At least, According to their website I had.
But according to the same surly bloke in the embassy that had ushered me out two days earlier, I was too late. I kinda had a feeling this might happen, but I thought at least I can find out what I need to provide, the cost, turn around time, get the paperwork, and the like.
So after telling me 'too late for application today' – and repeating himself twice more after I read out to him what it said on the website, a friendly man who had been waiting for his visa explained what I would need to do – since the consulate clerk, or whoever he was, just pointed to a piece of paper on the wall and grunted. Which had some guidelines on their that didn’t really apply to me. Letters from employers, things like that.
The clerk did manage to assist at one point, writing down the visa cost for an Australian passport. 158RM. That aside, I needed 3 photos, photocopy of my passport, and a copy of accommodation confirmation. I wrote this down. And then checked, and double checked with the clerk that I had everything correct. I did – but I would have to come back Monday morning now.

Upon leaving the embassy on foot it occurred to me that I was still hungover and was tired and hungry. I got off at the twin towers and had myself some lunch for 3RM before heading back to the hostel for a siesta. I got up after an hour or so of tossing and turning without any real sleep. Oh well. I wanted to head down to the old KL Railway station to take some photos as the sun went down. It was cloudy, but I decided to go anyway. We had a new fellow in the dorm – Shaun from Brisbane – a first time traveller who was freaking out at the quality of sanitation here. Turns out that Shaun was planning on a similar trip to my own through Asia – on the trans-siberian to Russia before setting up camp in the UK to work. Ty & I had a good laugh explaining that toilets and what have you are pretty much downhill from here – it gets worse.

Old KL Station at night
I stepped out to take some photos of the old railway station, and came back with a few extras of the national mosque which was nearby. En route back to the hostel I stopped in one street down from the hostel for a tasty Indian feed. This was “fine dining” according tot he sign – the bill was a hefty 20RM for a curry, rice, garlic naan, and a lime juice.
Old KL Railway Station
A quiet night was in store after the shenanigans of the night before – and just researched flights and accommodation for Bangladesh. I would have to book things in before getting my visa, accommodation at least, and wanted to get an el-cheapo flight before I missed out.

Managed to get a bit of a sleep in on Saturday morning. A broken sleep in though. The window to our dorm led out to the street which had trucks and buses hurtling down it from about 7am. The only downside to this hostel.
No major plans today – I wanted to get some cheap shoes, since I had discovered the day before, that the sole of my runners were wearing thin, when I stood on a bolt that was sticking out of the ground, which nearly went through my foot. I was walking on foam – the rubber had worn away. This also made it extremely slippery in the wet. So runners, and a local sim card were in order.
Oddly enough – for a city that gets a lot of rain, there is a lot of tiling for side-walk instead of concrete – which is super slippery in the wet. It's really odd.
Prepaid mobile setups are cheap here too. 50RM got me 20RM in calls, and 300mb data, which I wanted so I could use my phone's gps, and use the web on the go while in Malaysia.
Calls to Australia were cheap too – 0.15RM per minute – which is something like 10c a minute.
Back at the hostel I had another siesta, before getting up to get some dinner at a nearby place recommended by the Footprints guide. Coliseum Cafe – good steaks apparently. I'd been eating a shit-load of chicken since being in KL, so a steak sounded great, although I didn’t really have high expectations. Like coffee in KL, steaks aren't their forte. This place wasn’t cheap either – by Malaysian standard. I order a fillet steak with mushroom sauce, which was accompanied by fried potatoes, salad and a serve of vegetables, and some bread & butter. 38.90RM! Big bucks here, but only about AUD$13. Well, I must say, I was very pleasantly surprised. The steak was decent, not fatty, cooked OK (rare was not an option here according to the waiter (strange) – only medium or well-done. I went for medium.), and the sauce was brilliant! The salad, potatoes and veggies were respectable, if not on the small side. Ie. 1 piece of broccoli, and one piece of cauliflower, 5 small chunks of potatoes, a lettuce leaf, 2 slices of cucumber, and a slice of tomato, and on the side, what turned out to be a poor attempt at Thousand Island dressing.

After getting back from dinner, a lovely Canadian girl by the name of Breanna joined me, Ty and Shaun at the table outside for a beer. Later, Lee, a Pom from Brixton pulled up a a pew. This would lead to another another night of solid drinking, which included 3 trips to the local shop for supplies, 2 of which where the person to fetch was decided by a game of rock, paper, scissor. But after a few beers, we somehow tried playing the game with 4 people, which doesn't really work.
Lee, Bree and I had made ambitious plans to go up the Petronas Towers in the morning – we had to be up at 6am – an unlikely reality I kept telling them, yet they were adamant they would pull it off, so I told them to wake me for it.
It was about 3.30am before we called last drinks, and limped off to bed.

I was up at 8.30 and tired! I didn’t see the others, and assumed they couldn’t wake me and gone already. I had some toast, which didn’t cut it, and went out for brekky shortly afterwards, with Shaun.

2.80RM for a roti bread with onion and a pineapple juice at a nearby dodgy lookin eatery.
After breakfast I locked in my flights & accom for the 'Desh. At around 11am, Lee made an appearance – just up. About 15 minutes later, the Canadian girl made it out of bed too – weak I told them. I'd been up since 8.30! Ha!
Charming!
I was off to Batu Caves today – about a 40 minute bus ride from the hostel. The last two times I’ve been to KL I’ve not really been overly interested in them. I assumed they would be a tacky tourist attraction – but Shaun & Ty had come back the day before raving about how great it was. So I thought I’d check it out – Lee and Breanna were coming too.
Well, they were crap. gaudy, tacky and cheesy. 300 steps to climb on a particularly hot day. While the cave was impressively big, it was ruined by dodgy souvenir stalls, neon lights, a concreted floor inside the caves and other riff raff that completely detracted from the cave itself.
The highlight though, was the bus ride getting there. Holy shit. The bus drivers really hammer the buses in KL. At one point, we turned into a road lined with speed humps. The bus driver accelerated over the first speed hump – and continued accelerating towards the next. As we got to the point where I’d have thought we should probably be slowing down, the driver kept the pedal planted, still accelerating, we bounced over the hump and down the road, but he didn’t let up, and just kept it flat stick down the road. It was hilarious, the driver had a huge grin on his face as we cackled at how ridiculous it was, the bus literally bouncing the whole way down the road. The other highlight was over-taking a car on the corner of a two-way street, as a blue van came around in the other direction. The bus driver just cut the steering wheel and somehow managed to fit the bus in between the two cars in the middle of the road. Good effort.
The only item worth noting, was at the foot of the stairs up to the cave – a giant statue of the Hindu deity, Murugan. Seriously, this thing was huuuuuge! It must have been 30 metres tall. (Confirmed at 42.7 metres tall, and covered in 300 litres of gold paint apparently)
It was cheap excursion too. It cost us each a whole 5RM.
I needed a nanna-nap after my early rise once we got back. I felt like I was coming down with a bit of a cold, sniffles and a cough. Annoying. Once again, sleep didn’t actually come. Just some coughing and spluttering. So I got up and went to the pharmacy for some cough medicine, of which they have a very limited range here. Nor does it work very well I later found out.

Dinner was on the cards for the group of us – some Malaysian cuisine was the request, so I found the location of a good place that I’d read about – we jumped in a cab as it had been raining heavily all afternoon, arrived, and it was closed. Doh!
So we headed to Bukit Bintang and found ourselves a simple cafe serving Malay food on the main drag. Very tasty indeed! And super cheap! 6-8RM for main courses.
We went for a walk through the crowded streets of the Golden Triangle, stumbling across a group of Storm Troopers ...well, people dressed as Storm Troopers anyway. It was a promotional stunt for a broadband company over here. And a good one at that. They had the tunes pumping, and were dancing around and carrying on, toying with passers-by. It was hilarious! Hopefully Blogger let me upload a video of it!
(Video coming)

After a brief mosey further down the street we headed for Back Home. I wasn't feeling any better, and so a quiet couple of beers before bed saw out the rest of the night. I had an early rise in store for Monday morning. I had to check-out of the hostel, get to the embassy, and then find somewhere else to stay. I could have extended my stay, but I like the idea of trying out a few places while I’m here.

What a terrible sleep. Not much of it, my cough was relentless, and I was trying my hardest not to cough so as not to annoy my room mates who I didn’t really know (the others were scattered throughout different dorms)

Up at 8.30, I don’t think I managed to get to sleep until about half past 3. I felt wrecked, and not so great. And now I had to deal with my friend at the embassy. I felt a bit better after a small feed and a Milo, and proceeded by train in the direction of the embassy. Only I needed to find somewhere to print out an email to prove my accommodation in Dhaka, the capital city of Bangladesh. No luck near the station, so I thought I’d try my luck to see if I could use their computers at the embassy.
Waiting at the lights to cross a busy main road, a young Malaysian guy in a suit was standing next to me. So I asked him if he knew where I could print out an email. He wasn't sure, but said I could come with him, he might know a place. We struck up conversation about where I was from, and what I did. Turns out he had just come from a job interview, hence the suit. He was also in the same kind of business that I’d worked in back home. Billing. We had a good laugh about customers getting wrong bills. Turns out the place he'd had in mind couldn’t help. He apologised, and offered to drive me to the embassy. We stopped for a drink as we headed back to his car. His name was Manan – and a really cool dude. He loved the same tv shows I love so we had a good chat. I couldn’t help but notice, when I looked at his eyes, that he looked stoned. Or at least, he looked like he smoked ganja. Funnily enough, he then asked if I smoked, to which I replied yes, and offered him a cigarette. He obliged, and then went on to ask whether I smoked anything else. I laughed, “err yeh I don’t mind it” I replied. He laughed back, telling me he liked smoking weed. This surprised me, given the harsh penalties imposed here for drugs. He went on to explain that while penalties can be harsh, they are not quite as extreme, for marijuana at least, as is made out. Basically, if you do it in your home – there's no problem. Random searches in public are rare, if at all. So as long as you do it in the safety of your home, there is no problem. Not unlike Australia really – only getting caught in possession holds a far more serious outcome than in Australia. And over a certain amount in your possession in Malaysia could result in you being hanged. But not so for just a small amount. We chatted a while longer, I paid for our drinks, and headed for his car. We got on really well, he gave me his mobile number and invited me over for dinner one night if I want. He lived with two couples outside town, and his girl friend comes over sometimes too. He said since I've been here 4 times, I should make a local friend – he too was keen to make an Australian friend, given his wishes to go there someday. Fair call too I thought. A friend who's a local is definitely a good thing. He was one of those people that I could tell was a good sort too. He was on the same wavelength. I said when I was feeling better, I might take him up on the offer.
Police HQ

Now to tackle the embassy again. I was there in plenty of time – so he wasn't going to knock me back this time for being too late in the day.
I had everything that he had demanded of me the last time – almost. I had it in my email – the accommodation confirmation, my passport (I knew they had a photocopier), my 3 photos, the receipt from payment of the fee. Sorted.
Apparently not! Firstly, he wouldn't let me use their computers to print out the accommodation info – how friendly! Nor did he know where nearby I might be able to do this, although he didn’t give it much thought. I didn't even bother to ask to use the photocopier.
But next, the big surprise. Today, I needed a letter from someone in Bangladesh who could vouch for my stay. A letter of invitation. A sort of guarantor. As soon as he'd finished this sentence, I almost barked back, stating that he had not told me that last time. He told me that because I've not been there before, I need a letter from someone living in Bangladesh – not negotiable.
What the fuck?! It wasn't the requirement that annoyed me, it was that he had never mentioned it before, nor was it on the list of requirements up on the wall for visa applications. I wasn't happy – but tried my best not to lose face, as that would only make things more difficult. I pressed him further about who might supply such a letter, turns out the hotel can provide it. Still, this meant more time, and yet another visit. It wouldn't be today – and tomorrow seemed unlikely too. So I stuffed my passport and photos back into my backpack and marched back out into the heat, calling the hotel in Dhaka as I walked the streets back towards the station. The manager of the hotel, thankfully, was very helpful and knew what I was talking about. He told me to send him an email with the details of my stay, and passport info and he would respond with a letter of invitation. Thanks heavens for the iPhone! I did it it on the run.

On the way back to the hostel to collect my bags, I stopped in at a couple of hotels. I'd had some good news about my tax refund just a few days earlier, and given that I wasn’t feeling great, I thought I might hit up a couple of nights back in a hotel and get some decent sleep. I had a place in mind that I’d seen a few times, but out of pure curiosity, I stopped in at the Renaissance – which is a tasty Marriott branded hotel near Petronas. But as expected, it was pricey. Cheap by Australian standards though, i.e. $130 a night – about the same price as the Hilton, or Sheraton, or the Shangri-La here in KL. Opulent. But I didn't really want to blow that kinda of money – tax refund or not.
I didn't stoop too low though – the Crown Regency for $65 a night is what I'd had in mind. And it's pretty swish I must say, for a measly $65, it also kept me on par for my average accommodation spend/budget while I’m here in KL. So why the heck not. The location is awesome!

In my new location, literally 700m from the Twin Towers I wandered down Jalan Ramlee in search of food. Found a good little local cafe, offering variations of Nasi Goreng for 7RM.
Some building with nice lighting
And damn was it tasty! Run by a brother & sister, these guys really knocked up a super tasty Nasi Goreng. I'll be going back there!

Following dinner, I headed up to KLCC, the mega-mall below Petronas Towers. I wanted a book to read, and had stumbled across a fantastic book store a few days earlier. This book store is seriously the biggest and most comprehensive bookshop I’ve ever been inside. MASSIVE! It makes Angus & Robertson back home look like a newsagent. I had a couple of books I had noted down for reading, and proceeded to have look for them. But got side tracked checking out all the amazing sections in the store … Ancient History – broken up by regions, with maybe 3 shelves per continent. Philosophy ...broken down by by all the famous philosophers over the ages, Science, Travel ...so many books! I spent two hours looking around before I realised I was getting tired ..and hungry again. Just as I was about to give up, as I’d not found any books that I had on my list, and had come across about 10 books that I wanted to buy – but couldn’t decide on any one of them, when I found a little compute that let you search the current stock. Much better! There were so many books that it was likely I’d missed the one's I was looking for anyway.
My first search came up negative – no stock. Hmmm... there was only one other book I really really wanted. I've never been able to find it in Australia – it as out of print according to all major book stores there. I typed in the title – bingo! They had it – and it was in stock!!The books title is Tristes Tropiques by Claude Levi-Strauss. Out of print my ass! Poxy Australian book shops I thought. Happy with my purchase I proceeded straight to the checkout and legged it out of there. On my way out of the shopping centre, I spotted a supermarket and stopped in to get some munchies, bread, cheese, tomatoes and beer. The perfect snack!

At last, a quiet night on the couch, catching up on emails, watching movies in English on cable, and devouring vintage cheese Kettle chips.
Not much to report other than a relaxing early night, and a good sleep!

A good sleep indeed! Out of bed at about 1pm on Tuesday afternoon. Too late for the Embassy, but the letter hadn't come through yet anyway. I called the hotel in Bangladesh to check on the letter – he needed some more info emailed to him.Hung up the phone – email done. I stepped out to stretch the legs and considered my movements for the day. I needed that letter – then I needed to print it out, along with the accommodation booking confirmation, and a photocopy of my passport.

The letter arrived late afternoon – damn it had better be what they want. Print outs done, passport copied – I have everything they want. Finally. Hopefully. I would rock up Wednesday morning brandishing my documents with a big grin on my face I thought to myself as I strolled back to the hotel. It was 6pm already – I was hungry and so set off in search of food before retiring to my room.
Beef Rendang for dinner, and a lemon juice. Not bad. 10RM.

I rested a while back at the hotel, while it rained outside. It rains almost daily in KL ..but not for long, and usually late afternoon or early evening. As the rain cleared up and the clouds broke, I decided it was a good night for some photos of the glowing Twin Towers. The buildings are impressive during the day, but they're magnificent at night when lit up. Before taking to the streets, I had to have my anti-malaria medication. Doxycycline. Taken once daily after meals. Start a week before entering a malarial zone, continue during my stay, and then for 4 weeks afterwards departing such an area. 7 weeks of this stuff. Damn. Side effects: increased photo-sensitivity (i.e. More prone to sunburn), and possibly lucid dreams. Not too bad I suppose – far far better than malaria. It had to be done.


Petronas Towers of course!
As-Syakirin Moqsue
Turns out a good photo was not as easy as I'd predicted. The amount of light emitted from the towers creates a hazy glow all round them. I walked around the towers, taking lots of pictures with the tripod ..surely one of them comes out good. One is all I wanted.
I think I did alright, and got a couple of extras to boot.

I headed back to my room to rest. Watched some tv – a god-awful movie called Mongolian Death Worm. Followed by Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, before hitting the sack. In the morning I would duel my arch enemy at the embassy to secure my visa.
A 'fitting' sign above a bar full of hookers

Up at 8.30 – cheese & tomato sandwich and I was on my way. But as soon as I began my mission towards the station, I noticed something wasn't right. Where was all the traffic? I was 9am ..and I could have walked in the middle of the roads! Then a car went by – everyone inside was wearing a funny little hat. Crap – is it a public holiday? I pressed on anyway – in the hope that even if it was, it was a religious one only, and the embassy would be open for business.
It wasn't. Visit number 5 unsuccessful. And it was a public holiday. Shizen!
As soon ass I arrived at the embassy, I left and headed back to the hotel for an iced coffee. It was to be a lazy day then I'd decided. Slurping my iced latte through a straw, and homeless man that lives on the corner, near the hotel, approached me asking for a cigarette. Sure – no problem. He then came back a few minutes later and asked for a sip of my iced coffee. Hmmmm. “Errrr, ahhh, no sorry mate”. Feeling mean, I trundled off to the local milk bar and bought a bottle of water, which I handed to him, along with my remaining cigarettes as he dozed on the street. He thanked me, and proceeded to check how many cigarettes I’d given him. 3. But he seemed happy wandering about sculling the water and smoking his durries. Good deed for the day – check.
Hmmm...i see more than one interpretation for this...
Arriving back at my room – house cleaning were in their. Back downstairs and another iced coffee.
I went and checked out the pool, and started reading my book. When I was ready for a dip, I went and tested the water. To my astonishment, it was bloody freezing! And not just cold compared to the outside temperature, but cold by any standards. There was no way I was getting in. So I went back to reading my book, before retiring to the room for a chilled out afternoon checking emails again and responding to a few of them, and researching bit'n'pieces for travelling to Melaka in a couple of days time, once my visa was sorted.

And that brings me to now.
And for now, this entry is over.

Back soon!




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