It's big city time - Kuala Lumpur (part one)

The view from above...


The Highest, the Biggest, the Best - Is this America? Nope, The Petronas Towers, Kuala Lumpur

It’s big city time again - Kuala Lumpur. Less than 24 hours after we were sitting in the blissful peace of Tioman Island, we’re in the middle of 2 million and a whole lot of pollution. It is one of those places where you need to go indoors to get a breath of fresh air.


Kuala Lumpur traffic

Kuala Lumpur is indeed big and fast, though hardly unmanageable. There is a palpable sense of a couple things - firstly, as everywhere in Malaysia, a proud sense of nationalism - flags of all sizes are everywhere - on cars, on buildings, on buses and pretty much anywhere else there is a bit of space.

The country only achieved independence back in 1957, after centuries of Colonial occupation at the hands of the Dutch and British (not to mention occupation by Japan during the second world war). You can hardly blame the people for feeling proud after all of that, and the politicians for trumpeting it for all it’s worth.


"Towards the Best" - a relieving dose of non-western humility

There is a palpable sense that this is a city striving to transcend it’s past, though I’m not entirely sure what this exactly means.




No doubt, there is some "world class" stuff here - fantastic architecture and one shopping mall in particular that puts the high end of shopping in Copenhagen to shame.


Shopping under the highest buildings in the world - not bad...

Arriving to Kuala Lumpur, we’re greeted as we step off the bus by a bevy of guest house promoters. There are hostels nearby, including, oddly enough, one that is the most recommended hostel in Lonely planet 50 metres of the bus stop. This we find odd, since inevitably the area around bus stations anywhere and everywhere in the world is depressing - this one proves to be no exception. Nonetheless, we duly check out this Lonely Planet recommended hostel. Dirty walls, filthy toilets. I conclude that Lonely Planet writer who recommended it was surely suffering from a ferocious hangover when he stayed there, and as such was simply thrilled to get off the bus and stumble straight into a bed, any bed! We have the good sense to get away from the bus station and find something else.

Stepping out of this cruddy place, we meet a very persistent Indian bloke who repeats to us endlessly, “I take you to Wheelers Guest House, you’ll like it, it’s a money back guarantee! You can’t argue with that...I take you to Wheelers Guest House...” And so on. We have our eye on another hostel listed in the book, and are quite determined to go there first, but after promising everything and the moon to us with regards to Wheelers (which is the key in fact, as Lonely Planet notes that many of the cheap hostels offer only windowless double rooms, AND WE WANT A WINDOW. So we finally agree to go with him and check out Wheelers (he tars a few other nearby hostels mentionned by Lonely Planet with allegations fo bug problems and such, just for good measure).

As I tell Elisabeth he has promised a window room - she has been standing a couple steps away and missed much of the conversation, he directs his attention to her and begins practically pleading to carry her large and heavy rucksack for her. We are not about to give a stranger half our worldly belongings no matter how nice he is and how heavy they are, so instead I assure him that though she may be small, she is pure energy. He is a decent guy actually, even if persistant.

We get there and it turns out his promises have been good. Perhaps thanks to our reluctance to come along in the first place, he demands specific rooms from the guy working the reception desk. So just like that we have our new home, in the middle of Chinatown and complete with a view of the KL Tower.


A view from our hostel room

This is our third ‘Chinatown’ that we have seen of this trip, which has lead me to make a very unscientific observation. While each Chinatown is inevitable chaotic, there is also a sense of care and pride for it ,demonstrated by it’s residents. Not that they are necessarily polished, just a certain charm-in-use. When you watch the dishes being washed on the ground in the street restaurants of Chinatown, you nonetheless have a sense that somehow it end result will be clean dishes. It's not the same in the various "Little India" areas, which could be better described as neglected.



Dinner on the street in Chinatown - 2 euro - a beer, grilled chicken satay and rice, what more could you ask for?