Leaving Malaysia

I fully expected it to be awful, but with the last minute rushes of packing, goodbyes and closing bank accounts I didn't have time to process the enormity of leaving. Equipped with enough hugs from Anna to protect me through the airport and beyond, I left KL. Even in Dubai I felt fine. Just travelling. That universal airport feeling, easy to associate it with good things.

But then, as the hours-to-go counted down on the in-flight info screen, the doom swelled heavily in my stomach. The hours trickled quickly into even more rapidly vanishing minutes. Heathrow in sight, I knew it wouldn't feel any worse if we were falling out of the sky with no engines or wings.

KL for Kids

Today I went to the launch of "KL for Kids" at Marmalade cafe in Bangsar. It was a friendly little affair and fairly well attended. The authors signed copies of the book and chatted to guests about their experience of making it.

This is an impressive book, not least due to the stunning photography of kids having fun in and around KL. It is easy to use and a pleasure to browse. The main places to go are given a lavishly illustrated double page spread, while other sections sum up lesser or more distant attractions and activities succinctly. The text is detailed in its information, both enthusiastic and realistic in its descriptions and hits the nail on the head with candid comments such as:

"It has some great flashes of genius coupled with a few dysfunctional gaps," (the National Science centre) and:

"Staff attitudes are a little haphazard," (Aquaria KLCC).

However, these are just points to be aware of - there's nothing in the book that the authors don't recommend. All the places who earned a
place in the book did so by providing children with an enjoyable experience.


I would heartily recommend the book to anyone with children, whether local, expat or tourists. It gives the details you can never quite track down elsewhere, such as prices, eating options and stroller access, along with the obviously necessary directions and opening hours. Best of all, through the lively text and fabulous photos it will inspire you to visit those places you've never quite got round to.

Pictured right: Lorien Holland (writer)

Pictured right: Kate Phillips (photographer)

"KL for Kids" goes on sale in local bookshops this week and is also available from http://www.amazon.co.uk/ and http://www.klforkids.com/

Malaysian parking

On this street, double parking (eg red car and white truck) is common, as is the sound of 'horning', as those parked in lean on their horns until they are freed.

Better still is the parking right round the corner onto the other road.

Another good use of a spare corner. The owner of this car returned as I got out my camera, but at this point he hadn't yet moved.

Double-parking on this street is managed by the 'jockeys' - a couple of unlikely looking lads to whom owners of nice cars merrily toss their keys. These guys park your car and then juggle and rearrange cars as you return to collect yours. I met someone once who returned to find that the police had towed all the cars and confiscated the keys, but apart from the congestion it causes, the system is generally reliable. It's also a good way of alarming visitors when you hop out of your car in the middle of the road and give the keys to a total stranger.

The Petronas Towers, Kuala Lumpur

Iconic of the city, the Petronas Towers are stunning beyond belief. For a few years they enjoyed a reign as the world's tallest towers, but no more. But it really doesn't matter whether they top the world or not. There is no structure this tall that is so breathtaking.

The design is strongly Islamic, the floorplan of each tower being based on the eight-pointed star used so much in Islamic art. Each tower rises in five teirs, honouring the five pillars of Islam. There are numerous interesting features which I'm sure you can read about elsewhere. I once watched a television programme about the building of the towers and was delighted to learn that the project had encountered some very Malaysian problems, such as a poor survey which meant that while one tower was to be built on rock, the other was due to be founded on a muddy bog. The high speed lifts, designed I think by an American company, had to be slowed because Malaysians don't like to move so quickly!

One of my favourite pastimes in the vicinity of the towers is to watch people trying to photograph them. They don't fit easily into the average viewfinder, so people lie on the ground, or set the camera on the ground then contort themselves in order to see what's on the screen.

At night - that is, a clear night - their lights rise over the city. In the daytime their glass and metal gleam blue and silver with a shocking brightness. I like them best of all at twilight, when their faces can still be seen but the lights are already on against a deepening blue sky. I never would have thought I'd feel a moment of excitement looking at a skyscraper, but in this case I do. Frequently.

Jalan Alor

Jalan Alor, in the heart of the city, has to be one of KL’s greatest nightspots. This is a place to come for food. All sorts of food. The street is crammed with local restaurants and food stalls, serving every Malaysian dish you could wish for. The abundance and variety can seem quite staggering. The little carts that make up the majority of stalls advertise everything from frog porridge (soggy rice – with frogs of course) to carrot cake (a savoury stir-fried mush). Bundles of squid hang above woks alongside leafy green vegetables. The air sizzles with the sound of frying and a thousand delicious smells assail you. There are barely-cooked shellfish which ooze blood (?) as you pick them from their shells, there are butter prawns with fried curry leaves, wantons, laksa, black pepper venison, soft-shell crab, lala, steam boat, chicken fish and a hundred kinds of noodles. Sugar cane squeezers grind to produce glasses of sweet, refreshing juice, while a huge stack of spent canes builds up on the pavement. On long thin barbecues satay is grilled, row upon row, smoke billowing as the cook fans it vigorously breaking off only to slop spicy peanut sauce into plastic dishes.

There are fruit stalls where you can buy mangosteen and rambutan and a dozen other local treats. An old man weighs huge, spiky durians before splitting them open with a hefty swing of a parang. At a table nearby, groups of people bite into the gorgeous, rich, creamy flesh of these mighty fruits whose stench overwhelms unsuspecting foreign passers-by.

Tables from stalls and restaurants spill out over the pavements, onto the road, where they butt up against parking meters, streetlights, parked cars and trestle tables full of pirated CDs. While you eat at one cafe, you can order extras from other nearby stalls. Cars nudge their way between pedestrians, men selling tacky light-up toys or packs of socks and children selling tissues. Mini-skirted girls in Heineken or Tiger outfits flit between tables taking orders for beer.

The whole street is buzzing. The lights and movement, sounds and smells give you a kick of excitement, but the atmosphere is always relaxed and friendly. This is Kuala Lumpur at its best.

Kuala Lumpur

Stepping out of the airport building, the hot thick air hit me. It always does, without fail, wherever you have come from. I find it at once both stifling and comforting.

All week I enjoyed being back, pottering about and spending time with the friends I have missed. On Sunday evening I stood at the edge of the night-market, watching. And the sensation that had been nudging at me all week became clear, a reality: this is no longer my home. What made me see this was the other matsallehs, the expats. How they, despite being as foreign as me, belong here. There was a purpose and certainty in the mundaneness of their evening that I will never have again.