Melaka: Historic Streets, Current Problems

July 6th 2015...oh dear, as behind as ever. Well, twenty three days behind to be exact. Perhaps eventually it will be 20,000 days behind, and then my blog title would make sense ;) 


Apologies if this post seems brief, everything happened so long ago, and I cannot remember everything. Also, I am on beer no.2, and I have only just started. If my writing gets worse, blame my hostel, where beer is by far the cheapest drink available.


Melaka was a destination which I had looked forward to visiting since I had done my initial research on Malaysia back in March. It had the history and syncretic culture of Georgetown (Penang), but with the additional influences of earlier Portuguese and Dutch colonialists. It seemed like somewhere that I would be loathed to leave, and miss when I had left (more on that later), and I had a brilliant start to visit there as my first night coincided with the last night of the weekend night market on Jonker Street. I am never one to miss up on an opportunity to browse a market and eat street food, as I demonstrated in the previous blog entry.

The delicious weekend market along Jonker Street.

The following morning, I was eager to get an early start and explore the city. As my hostel did not serve breakfast, I wandered along the road until I found this beautiful Chinese teahouse which offered breakfast for just RM7 (£1.18), which included a free refill on my tea (a small gesture which I appreciate greatly).

Not a bad setting for breakfast.

Sadly I did not get to use these...

T-Selfie!

Over breakfast, I decided to split my exploration of Melaka into two halves, which corresponded to the two halves of the city which were divided by the Sungai Melaka. Today, I would explore the western portion of the city centre, filled with Chinese shophouses and narrow streets, before tackling the eastern portion the following day, which was filled with the buildings and edifices which were all that remained of Portuguese, Dutch and finally British colonial control. In reality, I had a day off between my two explorations days (which was needed for reasons explained later), but I roughly stuck to this plan.


So, onwards with my first full day in Melaka.

I started along Jalan Tokong, which is famous for having places of worship for Muslims, Hindus and Chinese Buddists all within sight of each (historically there was also a Catholic church situated on the street as well).

The Kapitan Kling mosque was unlike any mosque I had seen in South East Asia, which was perhaps a testiment to its age, and aspects of its architecture seemed more Christian than Islamic (ie the minaret which looked like a church steeple).

The building in the foreghround is the Hindu temple, whose name eludes me.

Two minutes further down the road stood a Chinese temple, whose facade for some reason did not get photographed. Instead, here is a collage of various carvings and statues within the temple. 

At the end of Jalan Tokong, I made a sharp left turn onto what was historically the main road in the city: Jalan Hang Jebat, previously known as Jonker Street. I had been here only the previous night for the night market, but the street looked markedly different in the daylight with no market stalls but plenty of traffic (Melaka has a SERIOUS traffic problem, and authorities should really look at pedestrianising parts of the historic centre of Melaka, as Malaysians seem to see the pavement as a parking spot).

The shrine of one of the founding fathers of the city. It was unclear what religion it was, but the simplicity suggests Islam.

The road ends at the green, neglected Sungai Melaka, where I took a brief stop before plunging back into the winding streets.

Melaka continued to remind me of Penang with its syncretic culture, historic architecture, and less expectedly through the amount of street art sprawling on building sides and doorways.

After a brief stop in a brilliant coffee shop for some iced coffee and macaroons (when a macaroon is less than £0.50, it is very hard to say no), I decided I should visit at least one of the museums that were speckled across the city. Many of them were very small, and were decidedly created less to inform than to profit from the tourism industry. I eventually decided on one which came well-recommended in my (hand-made) guide book: the Cheng Ho cultural museum. The museum was dedicated to the adventures and journeys of the famous Chinese admiral Cheng Ho (Zheng He), who visited Malacca at least five times, and his impact on Malaccan and regional history and culture.

You know a museum is not that impressive when I photographed lanturns rather than exhibits.

It was frankly a waste of money. The museum's exhibits were primarily in Chinese, with English (and Malay) exhibits added as an obvious (and badly-translated) after-thought. The content was interesting, but it was markedly thin on the ground, and had been dragged out to fill the museum's premises. There was an interesting building which had been turned into a cross-section of Cheng Ho's ship, and another room which contained scale-models of the admiral's fleet, and his temporary settlement in Malacca. Perhaps my expectations were too high after the well-funded and informative museums of KL, but it was frustrating for me as the museum had potential but was being allowed to decay and decline in order to maximise profits.


I spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing in the hostel, enjoying the decent Wifi, and then in the evening I headed out with many of the other hostel's guests for Supper Club, where one of the hostel's employees/long-term residents take guests to local restaurants. That night, I was able to try Stingray for the first time.


...it was delicious, but full of spines made of cartilege (stingrays have no bones, like sharks).


I spent my evening drinking beers with my fellow supper club guests, before heading out to a bar where I had to be tactful to some rather drunk Malaysian men who became offended other people were not sharing weed (I did not partake, but rather stuck to 8% strength special brew).



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July 7th 2015


Understandably, I did not wake up early the next morning, but eventually staggered out of the humid hostel (no AC but it was only RM16 (£2.70) and found some brunch at a local hostel. I spent the early afternoon chilling in cafes and wondering aimless along the city's historic streets.


It's here that I should explain my main reason for coming to Malacca, which was to take on a volunteer job as a night manager in the hostel I was staying in. I was running low on money and simultaneously I was suffering from slight travel fatigue, and thought I would enjoy spending a fortnight or more in Malacca getting to know the city as a local would and restoring my desire to explore and travel once more.


The plan was to spend at least two weeks working in Malacca, but ultimately, I only worked two nights. I have nothing against the hostel or its owner (which is why I am not going to say at which hostel I was staying/working). The job mostly consisted of sitting on the front desk, checking guests in, and handling enquiries and problems (I've lost my keys, etc), which was enjoyable and not difficult at all.


My objection to the Workaway placement however was that I felt the owner was seriously taking advantage of volunteers such as myself. Here are my reasons why:

• The stated hours were 6pm-11pm, where I was meant to check guests in, keep an eye on the two hostel properties, and generally ensure everyone was happy and the common areas clean. Five hours is already more than the standard four hours asked on the Workaway website, but I did not mind too much.
• What was not made clear is that I have to start at 6pm, but I can only go to bed when the last guest arrived, which on one night was after midnight. Then any problems during the night, I also have to deal with (as I was the only 'staff member' on site).
• The owner arrives at 10am, but many guests want to check-out earlier than that in order to catch buses or flights. I initially just told them the night before to leave their keys on the desk, and pay their bill the night before. However, this apparently was not allowed, and I had to be sat on the desk by 8.00am in the morning to check people out.
• So in summary I was working 6pm until 10am. 
• During this time, I could not really leave the hostel. I could of course leave for a few minutes to buy a snack, but I certainly could not go and have a meal. This meant I missed Supper Club, and there were few options available when I was able to leave sometime between 11pm and midnight. 
• In return for working in the hostel, I had a fan dorm bed, and was given a daily food allowance of RM10 (£1.70), which barely covered a cheap meal in the city. 
• Between 10am and 6pm, I was free to do what I wished, but if I was in the hostel for any reason (Malacca is too hot to be outside for too long), I ended up helping in my time off. Once people knew I worked there, if the owner was outside having a chat to a friend, I would be looked at expectantly to help them.
• Finally, the owner had a day-off on Sunday, which meant the Workawayer had to work the entire day, from 8am until midnight. But the volunteer did not get any days off...

To put it bluntly, it was a crappy Workaway role, and I felt really used. I would have felt very, very differently if I were working in a school or for a NGO, but this was a hostel, and the owner was only using volunteers to save costs and because Malacca had a serious shortage of English-speaking staff, visible in the sheer amount of vacancy notices posted around the town. The final straw was when I found out that the owner had another hostel in Malacca where he did the exact same thing: using travellers to avoid having to pay for local staff.


However, I was not to know this when I started, so I spent the afternoon of the second day learning the role, and then the evening sitting in the humid, hot common area panting in front of a fan. I enjoyed it, but already had reservations about staying.



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July 8th 2015


I really wanted to have a lie in today, but sadly I was up at 8am, bleary-eyed, sitting behind the reception desk with a mug of tea. At 10am, the owner arrived, and I headed out for some breakfast before coming back to shower and plan my day. I had planned to just spend another day in cafes, relaxing and attempting to blog, but two guests arrived, and the owner was having a chat somewhere, so I stayed for a few more minutes to check them in and show them the hostel. 


Five minutes later, they were back down in the common area, and the long-term British resident/sort-of-staff-member suggested we all go for lunch at a local Sikh temple. I had little else planned today, and I had never memorably visited a Sikh temple, so I tagged along with the two guests, who I soon learned were a Dutch/German couple called Anna and Fred, who were both vets (what it is with doctors and vets dating and marrying within their professions?).


After a long, hot walk we arrived at the Sikh temple, where we paid our respects (and a small donation) before sitting with the other locals to eat a 'free', simple Indian meal. What I did not realise is that after eating, we were expected to help wash up not just our own dishes, but a great trough full of other peoples' dishes. (The locals were crafty, and just dumped their dishes in the sink). The four of us became a well-oiled machine, and quickly worked our way through the great piles of metal and plastic, before we took off our head scarves, and started walking back towards the hostel.


Hannah and Fred decide that they are going to explore the Dutch colonial buildings and Portuguese ruins, and as I had not seen them yet, I tagged along once more (it became something of a recurring theme over the next few days).


I feel part of the reason they agreed so readily to me coming along was that I had mobile data and GPS on my phone, and knew the Chinese-side of Malacca reasonably well. ;)

The central clocktower.

The colonial area of Malacca is centred on St. Paul's Hill, on top of which used to stand a Catholic church, which was subsequently gutted and only partially restored. 

Fred photobombed this photo...

On the far side of the hill we found the only remaining original fort gate. It looked rather forlorn, sitting isolated in the middle of an open square, it's contorted entrance-way now protecting nothing.

At the base of the hill, we decided we should visit at least one of the dozen museums scattered over the hill, and decided on the Malacca Sultanate Palace Museum, which sat just to the east of Bukit St. Paul. The building was a replica of the palace of the Sultans who once ruled Malacca before the imposition of colonial rule, and held a collection of regalia and costume from Malacca and beyond. It was an odd collection of items, stories and dioramas, but it was at least entertaining.

After we had seen as much as we wanted to in colonial Malacca, we crossed the river and wandered around the historic streets and Chinese shophouses. Hannah, following a walking tour elaborated upon within her Lonely Planet, led her to some Chinese temples I had not seen before, which were vibrantly-painted, and full of the smell of incense and smoke.

After a brief stop in a cafe for a refreshing iced coffee, I had to rush back to the hostel to start my shift, whilst Hannah and Fred continued exploring. I spent an uneventful evening sitting at the desk, chatting to any guest that wandered through, and feeling jealous when the Supper Club set off and left me with my instant noodles. 


Fred and Hannah were amazing human beings, and when they returned that evening, they brought a slice of rainbow-coloured fairy cake to share with me.

Over tea and cake, they mentioned that they were heading on to Singapore early the following morning. I really wanted to accompany them, and leave my horrible volunteer role behind. Not long after they arrived, another guest arrived back at the hostel. He was cycling through South East Asia, but had broken his foot, leaving him stranded in Malacca whilst it healed. We were discussing my role, and we agreed it would be perfect for him to do whilst he was recovering, as he could save money and keep busy.

Everything seemed to fall into place, and so I decided to leave.

I wrote the owner a note, return the money I had been paid, along with paying for the nights I had stayed for free, and agreed to meet Hannah and Fred early the following morning when we could head to Singapore together.

Goodbye Malacca, and Malaysia!

DSP

Melaka: Jonker's Street Night Market (Photo-blog)

July 5th 2015...I am catching up - I have found a hostel which is conducive to being productive in Phnom Penh :)


Whilst more thorough and descriptive blogs of my time in Melaka (Malacca) will be coming in the next day or two, when planning out those blogs, I found that the night market I visited on my first evening in the city did not easily fit into the narrative, but that there were plenty of photos that I share of that enjoyable evening.


My solution was to have a separate post just for the night market.


I feel I should give a little background here. The night market in Melaka, which runs along the temporarily pedestrianised Jonker Street, is one of the major attractions of the city, and only runs on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. The market stretches for nearly a kilometre, and is a combination of food stalls, clothing stores, and tourist souvenirs. The market even retains some original stalls targeted at locals, selling knifes, vegetables and toiletries, and as a result, the market has a healthy mix of locals, Malaysian visitors, and foreign tourists, though like everywhere in Malaysia, the Chinese tour groups dominated.


I had not planned to tackle the night market on my first night, as I was tired, in need of a shower, and had only arrived at around 9pm. But it was a Sunday, and if I did not go tonight, I would have had to wait until Friday, or more likely, forgo seeing it. I like a good night market, and this one was famous, and so I was determined not to miss it. I dumped my bag by my bed, and headed out to see what there was to see (and eat).

There initially was not much to see.

Found it!

The market was brightly lit up with flourescent lighting, and stalls tumbled from their respective stores lining the street out over the pavement into the road. Hawkers called out the names of their produce in various Malaysian languages, whilst tourists and visitors browsed in mild confusion the kaleidoscope of goods on offer.


Waiting at the end of the street near the bridge was a fleet of neon-bedecked trishaws which supported glowing effigies of Hello Kitty and other Asian cartoon characters. The picture below cannot capture the cacophony of noise as speakers on each stereo blared out their owner's taste in music: Korean K-Pop blared over the warbling of Chinese karaoke pop opera, while Miley Cyrus could be heard proclaiming that she would not stop. It was not a pleasant sound.

Next to the overwhelming rickshaws were several stalls selling coconuts and coconut ice cream. I could not resist the idea of a coconut shake.

One coconut shake (with ice cream) = RM4 (£0.66)

Then I found an unassuming stall selling 'pumpkin cake' which I was intrigued, as it was only RM2 (£0.33). I decided to buy a piece, and was then amazed when I got not one piece but three, fist-sized lumps for the price. 

I should have known that when they asked if I wanted chilli sauce with the cake that it would not be my thing. It was rubbery and jelly-like at the same time, and had a strange lack of taste, which suggested it had been made with unripe pumpkins.

Three pieces of disgusting pumpkin cake = RM2 (£0.33)

My next purchase after a few minutes was at this stall which proclaimed' Fruit Candy Stick'. I was intrigued as I had not seen this before, and so I bought one to try it. The fruit was prepared in a similar way to a toffee apple back in the UK, and was quite effective with strawberry and pineapple. Slightly odd with grapes though.

One Candy Fruit Stick = RM3.50 (£0.60)


My next stop was at a Taiwanese stall selling sausages. Among the flavours they had available, Honey Lime sausages sounded by far the most delicious, so I bought one. 


One Honey Lime Sausage = RM2.50 (£0.40)

It was without doubt one of the most delicious sausages I have ever tasted, as the sweet honey compliment the salty pork meat, and the lime cut through it all with a sour burst. It may not be to everyone's taste, but I loved it.

The stall also sold pieces of strange cake-jelly, which after the experience with the similar pumpkin cake, I declined to try, but it looked fairly appealing.

I briefly paused in my attempt to efforts to eat everything in sight to watch the karaoke performed by locals on a large stage towards the far end of the market. As the songs were mostly in Chinese, I was unsure whether they were doing a good job or not, though the apathy of the audience suggested they at least were not spectacular. Personally, I was more distracted by the advert behind the warbling singers showing footballers advertising Mister Potato crisps (they are basically mock-Pringles). It rather made the whole affair less cultural and more commercial!

There were these strange glow in the dark pendants everywhere.

Some of the stalls in the market used some odd phrases in English, and a couple were downright bizarre. This durian stall below selling 'Normal Clones' was particularly odd. 

Whereas I feel 'Big Tart: Cookies and Bread Station' was a rather deliberate use of English. In Malaysia, there are so many competent English speakers, but equally so many Malaysians unable to speak much English at all, that it is sometime hard to know whether the mistake is intentional or accidental. 

By now, it had been about ten minutes since I had eaten anything, so I found myself some miniature octopus on a stick to chew on for just RM 2 (£0.33). It was delicious and spicy, and made me miss the cheap seafood of Thailand. 

My final snack of the night was these amazing fritter-like objects photographed below.

They consisted of ready-cooked chips dipped in batter and re-deep-fried, which turned them into an unhealthy, salty, fatty potato fritter, or a super hash brown! It was incredibly delicious, and reminiscent of Chipsy Mayai (Egg Omelette) which I had loved when I visited Tanzania just under four years ago. 


One chip fritter = RM 3 (£0.50)

After I had demolished several chip fritters, I was really feeling full. I continued back through the market towards my hostel, briefly stopping to pick up some Peach tea from a vendor, before I turned off down a side street back to my hostel for a well-earned sleep.

Total spent on streetfood (excluding tea): RM17 (£2.87). Not bad for several hours full of eating! 

DSP

Kuala Lumpur, Day 4, 5, ..6, ...and 7, ...and 8?

(Day 4) 1st July 2015...enjoying a few days off in Phnom Penh to catch up on ze blogging.

Kuala Lumpur was difficult to leave. I had a brilliant Couchsurfing host, who introduced me to many of his equally brilliant friends, and brought me to amazing restaurants and sosphisicated (read expensive) bars and clubs. In the daytime, I had figured out public transport (just use Uber cabs) and had found my favourite places for food and coffee. I was settling down, creating a temporary home for myself, which felt amazing after nearly two months of itinerant travelling. As you can see, I spent over a week in one city, which even for me is travelling slowly. But aside from the first few days, I did relatively little. I slept in late, ate at street stalls, and went to bars and parties. These few days were a holiday from a holiday if you like, though few travellers would say that long-term travel is a holiday. It's fun, but it is not restful like a shorter vacation.

But on the first of these five day I want to cover, I still had sights to see, and was still eager to see them. My aim for today were the Batu caves located on the northern outskirts of the city. Over one hundred years agi, Hindu migrant workers brought to Kuala Lumpur as labourers saw the potential of this cave system as a place of worship, and religious attendance at this site, considered the holiest Hindu site in South East Asia, has been increasing ever since.

I think this might be the right KTM stop.

Reaching the caves was surprisingly straightforward. I ordered an Uber to KL Sentral station, and then hopped onto a KTM Komuter train bound north. The train cost just RM2, and terminated at Batu Caves which meant I did not need to keep track of the train's stops. It really could not have been easier.

A short walk through a shopping arcade filled with touts selling tourist souvenirs and religious paraphernalia, I emerged at the foot of a steep limestone hill, which looked solid and uninteresting. But as the wide path slowly curved around the base of the hill, it gradually revealed a huge open square dotted with tourists and Hindu pilgrims, watched over by a gigantic gilded statue of a Hindu deity, which guarded the steps leading into the hill's cave system and its shrines.

I assure you I was more impressed than my face suggests...

But, before I could attempt the steep climb in the humid heat, I needed a solid meal. On the far side of the square, facing the statues, stood a line of vegetarian Indian restaurants. I ducked inside one and had a delicious banana-leaf Thali and an iced tea for just RM12 (£2).

I have never seen a restaurant menu advertising SIM cards before...

Now, for the climb...

In all honesty, the climb was not that bad, as there was a cooling breeze higher up, and the tour groups, with their incessant photography, really slowed the pace and allowed for a more leisurely climb (I'm much more of a hike up, get it done sort of person).


Besides, there were monkeys to distract. I was thankful I did not have any snacks with me, as they could smell it from metres away, and all the monkeys homed in on vulnerable pilgrims carrying food offerings and (edible for monkeys) flowers. One lady, who was trailing a huge bouquet of flowers behind her, was completely unaware that a small troop of monkey were following her pulling out flower stems to eat.

The view from the summit of the steps was impressive, especially with the gilded god seemingly staring wistfully into the distance.

Inside the cave it was much less impressive, and too poorly lit to photograph. One cave had become just a walkway into a deep chasm at the bottom of which sat a squat, small Hindu shrine, which was the focus of the gathered devotees. I was not particularly impressed, and certainly the entrance of the cave held more awe for me than this cramped, dimly lit building. Its setting however was beautiful. 

Inside Batu Caves

Gathered pictures of the Batu Caves.

Underwhelmed, I headed back through the first cave, and began the descent back down the hill. The descent was a little more difficult, as the steps in places were not that wide nor always that even, and when stepping down all you could see was the base of the hill several hundred metres below you.


Luckily monkeys were on hand to distract once more.

So adorable...

At the base of the stairway, I took a few more photos, and after deciding that I did not want to pay to enter any of the other caves in the system, I walked back to the nearby station, and got onboard a blissfully air conditioned train to take me back into the city centre. 

I got off the train at the northern edge of Little India, with the intention of finishing my explorations in that district. However, before that, I took a break in a Starbucks I spotted just outside the station. 

Ninety minutes later (I may have had some cake, and then another tea, whilst I goofed around on my laptop), I headed back into the sunshine, and wandered through Little India for an uneventful thirty minutes before I pressed onto the neighbouring district of Kampong Bahru, an exclusive-Malay enclave of the city with a distinctive character.

They have good greengrocers at least.

The road I was walking along soon became crowded with stalls selling ready-made food and drink, and I soon realised I had stumbled into a Ramadan market, which fasting Muslims visit in the afternoon to purchase food in readiness for the iftar (breaking of the fast at sunset). I decided to copy the locals, and bought my evening meal in the market, eventually settling on a couple of doughnuts and a murtubak (I may be misspelling that): a meat-filled omelette unique to Malaysia. 

Feeling tired and hungry, but unwilling to eat food on the street in the sight of fasting Muslims, I caught a metro train back across the city, and then an Uber back to Jonathan's apartment.


There, I bumped into Jonathan's other Couchsurfer: a Frenchman called Nico, who I spent several hours chatting to before heading out to a club to meet Jonathan. 


There was then some drinking, and some more drinking, and some awful attempt made by me to speak French, before we headed home sometime after 3am.



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(Day 5) 2nd July 2015


My fifth day in Kuala Lumpur was very much a lazy day. I don't think I woke up much before 10:00am, and spent much of the next few hours chatting with Nico (Jonathan had many hours previously headed to work: poor Jonathan!). I intended to move out of Jonathan's apartment back into a (better than the last one) dorm, as Nico was now staying, and his mother and sister would also be arriving the next day in time for Jonathan's birthday. Basically, it was getting crowded, so I decided to vacate myself to give everyone more space.


I eventually left the apartment mid-afternoon, and checked into a cheap hostel I had found when I was initially investigating, which cost only RM15 per night for a fan dorm. Sure there were fist fights and drunks in the stairwell every night, and sure one night I found a guy bleeding from his head on the landing: but it was cheap, and had a cafe downstairs which I liked.


After checking in, and enjoying a iced coffee downstairs, I headed out into Chinatown to do some shopping. I had ran out of most of my toiletries, and all of my shorts now had sizeable holes in the crotch: I could put off spending money no longer.

As the evening set in, I headed out to Little India to meet Nico and Jonathan for some bakuteh, which is a Chinese-influence pork hotpot dish. There were a lot of components, and it was all very nice, but as Jonathan kept saying, there was nothing exceptional about what Jonathan's friend Yameen had maintained was the best bakuteh he had found in the city.

After Little India, we caught the monorail to Bukit Bintang, and drank several glasses of wine at a very nice bar the name of which I have forgotten. Then, after a quick stop in Bangsar for some late-night Indian food, we all went our separate ways for the night.



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(Day 6) 3rd July 2015 - woo, only twenty days behind...two less than when I started this blog post though ;)


This day contained my major reason for staying as long in Kuala Lumpur as I had done: it was Jonathan's birthday party, and after he had graciously invited me to it (thank you once again), I could not really skip town and not come along. 

The invitation (sent over WhatsApp) :)

I spent my morning sleeping, and then in the atfernoon I ambled around Chinatown, tracked down a plate of my beloved Special Sauce Noodles, and then strolled through the Merdeka and found a cafe to get on with some blogging. 


In the evening, it was party time. I managed to turn up late, thanks to a very hapless Uber driver: he took two wrong turns resulting in huge detours before he realised he had put my destination into his SatNav erroneously. The party was at a brilliant restaurant located out in KL's suburbs which provides work experience for underprivileged local children, enabling them to earn a wage whilst also gaining valuable skills. 


It was a good cause, and the food was delicious as well.

Midway through the meal, several of the young people gave speeches about what the restaurant and related charity had done for them, and then the restaurant staff came round asking for a donation which I was more than happy to give. 

Soon, we were heading on from the restaurant out to a club. I cannot honestly remember all that much of that night, except that there were great people, great drinks, and that I did not realise for about two hours that the club was hosting a gay night. Sometimes I am so dense. Below are a few photos I took of the night.

Nico and Jonathan showing off their mad dance skills.

Good job guys ;)

After yet another trip to an Indian late-night restaurant in Bangsar, I ended up heading back to Jonathan's, as I did not fancy staying in my sweatbox of a dorm room, and I think Jonathan was sceptical of my ability to get home alone...I was fine...I think...I can't remember...I was drunk.



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(Day 7) 4th July 2015 - nineteen days behind. 


My seventh day was fairly uneventful. Jonathan was an amazing human being, and cooked Nico and I a Filipino breakfast. I am fairly sure he told the name of it, but I forgot. I consisted of rice, a fried egg, and some preserved fish. It sounds gross now when I am writing it, but I remember it being delicious and perfect hangover food. 

I had intended to leave Kuala Lumpur that afternoon, but that...did not happen. I was feeling lazy, my possessions were halfway across the city in Chinatown, and my friend Lex was in the city and wanted to meet up. I accepted fate, and resolved to leave the next day instead. 

I spent most of my early afternoon comparing countries with Nico: we decided that Brittany and Cornwall were essentially identical, except for slightly differently spelt local languages (Breton vs Cornish). Then, as Nico needed to get on with work, I caught an Uber back to Chinatown, had a shower, and then headed to the Petronas Towers to meet up with Lex.

I had originally met Lex in Bangkok, and then bumped into him in Luang Prabang, and then again in Bangkok when I returned there in early June. I was really excited to see him again after a month, as when you are travelling, you are used to making friends who then disappear after a few days, so it is lovely to meet someone you already know, and with whom you can forgo the repetitive introductory conversations. 

We met underneath the Petronas towers, and headed to a nearby restaurant to have a sit down and relax over some food. Well, I had food (a delicious lasagne), but Lex restricted himself to just tea, as he was staying with a Muslim fasting, and was fasting alongside them in a gesture of solidarity. I felt bad...and I probably shouldn't have eaten, but meh, I was hungry!

Yum!!!!

I then suggested that we headed over to Chinatown so Lex could try some of the area's amazing street food in that area when the sun set. He readily agreed, and we caught the free GO KL bus over to Chinatown. However, as we were too early for Lex to eat, I instead took him around the Central Market, and to the Merdeka, which he had not seen. 


I knew that the Merdeka was closed in the late afternoons and evenings, but what I did not know is that that the roads around the square are closed because of the many thousands of Malaysians who choose to break their fast on the grassy field and the streets around it. 


We had accidentally stumbled upon an iftar celebration five minutes before sunset. The timing could not have been more perfect. 

After we watched the sunset over the surrounding buildings, and watched as thousands of Muslims broke their fast as an imam sung prayers over loudspeaker, we headed back towards Chinatown so Lex too could eat. 


He ended up with some Chinese noodles, whilst I had Chicken Feet soup.


It was disgusting. Do not try Chicken Feet soup.


Afterwards, we headed for Bukit Bintang for some drinks. He initially tried to head to a gay bar, but were told to come back later as the place was empty, so ended up at a Thai-run bar with cheap draft beer. Several hours later, we paid to get into the gay bar, which was hilariously empty still, and then had to sit through the (blissfully-short) worst drag show I have ever seen. About the only entertaining part of it was when one of the drag queens threw her prosthetic penis at someone (and you know that when penis jokes are a highlight,  how bad everything else was that night). We then headed for a better club across the city, but by the time we arrived there my previous few nights of excess were catching up on me, and after we had a mediocre Indian meal, and I had shown Lex the wonders of Uber in KL, we each headed our separate ways home.

There was time for a casual Petronas tower selfie en route to the club.

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(Day 8) 5th July 2015 - only eighteen days behind now!!!!


As I woke up on my eighth day in the same city, I was starting to feel cabin fever. I needed to start moving and start travelling once more.


But first, breakfast.

By around midday, I was ready to leave: I had packed, I had procrastinated with food and several coffees, but I could put it off no longer.

I ordered my last Uber ride out to the southern bus terminal (which is so south it was halfway to Malacca, my next destination), booked a bus ticket, quickly skyped my parents whilst I waited for my bus, and then left a city I had grown to love, and whose people I had bonded with.

Bye-bye Kuala Lumpur.

DSP


PS: Apologies for the amount of food pictures here. I had not realised I was so food obsessed.


Well...I'd realised. I had no realised I was quite so obvious about it.