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Kuala Lum-Party
Entry 15 of 49 | show all | print this entry |
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Kuala Lumpar, capital city and base for our 2008 New Years Eve extravaganza!! Arriving on the afternoon of the 31st, we checked in to our hotel and embarked upon a mission so heinously difficult it is unlikely old Bond-y himself could succeed if asked. Attending a New Years Eve party at one of KL's most popular and best known venues (Zouk, sister club of the 'same-named' Singaporean 'zuperclub') posed a small problem. Flip-flops are strictly off limits (dirty alcohol stained floors, broken glass, lawsuits). Unfortunately, that left dear old Richy with a bit of a problem seeing as his only other footwear was a pair of (now broken) off-road crag-hoppers, ideal for jumping through small rivers, climbing wet rocks and kicking up dust. In fact having started off granite grey, due to trekking and other associated usages, they had adopted an entirely new light yellow hue. Further, and perhaps more importantly, they made me look like a dress-down geography teacher at a parents evening.
Raz had already managed to nab a cheap pair of knock-off dark trainers in Penang owing to his abnormally, probably bound as a youngster Japanese-girl-style monkey feet (size 4 I believe). The normally boisterous and oppressive fake-shoe sellers backed off in horror when confronted with my huge, exceedingly flat plates of meat. Several of the female market stall holders adopted the look of somebody threatened by a drunk rattlesnake when I asked if they had size 13's. A couple of the more entreuprenurial members of the market stall community adopted a subtle technique of stone-cold, bare-faced lying. "Yes I have your size" they would cheerfully exclaim, before trying to squeeze my foot into a size 10. Things were looking bleak.
Hence the 11-th hour mad dash around KL, a city we hadn't gathered our bearings in and had no idea where to start. I did however, find a few pairs that fitted the bill, particularly a lovely baby blue suede loafer. The man had my size, would measure my feet properly and make sure they were perfect. My optimism was dashed cruelly on the rocks, the shoes were mine at a snip, only 270 of the Queens currency!! Splitting up, I made a mad dash through the KL shopping centre (underneath the Petronas Twin Towers - very smart!!) and, rejecting a pair of 60 pound square toes from Marks and Sparks that would make an Essex pub bouncer blush, I finally found a pair of trainers for reasonable money in my size, in a Japanes department store of all places.
Enough about the shoes! The night was a success, lots of rather drunk Malay people, many looking a little too young to be out drinking, a fair share of dancing (even from Shahed - wonders never cease) and a long lie-in the next morning (I say morning, we got out of bed at 6pm) made for a successful NYE!
We were located in Chinatown, what some people would call the more 'active' part of town, some may call the 'live' part of town, some may call a 'bit of a sh*thole'. Plenty of restaurants, one special number an almost perfectly preserved example of the 1920's Sino culture, complete with ceiling fans, original fixtures and a creepy upstairs drawing room playing eerie 1940's music to beautiful rattan furniture (imagine a Malay 'Shining'). Also a very busy night market with every conceivable fake on the market, and witty little barrow boys selling 'real copies'. We passed our time browsing, sometimes purchasing (Shahed especially doing a good line in bulk buying tat).
KL itself is a real melting pot of races and religions. Malay muslims mix with Asian muslims and hindus and every other type of religion, living harmoniously with Chinese. They all seem to get along very well. Its busy, pretty much all the time, but also very civilised. Also strong of course is the ex-pat community, something we were introduced to on a night out on the town with one of Shahed's friends from home who has been living here for a few years and has, very oddly, picked up a semi-mid-atlantic/south african/american/chinese accent, despite being born and bred London. As per the English congregated in pubs, and we joined him and his friends in a few, invested in the local fayre (Heineken I think it was) before ending up in a late night, completely random 'where-the-hell-are-we?' Chinese drinking bar where we were the only non-Chinese in there, listening to pretty heavy trance type music until very early in the morning!! Random could not accurately describe this experience.
Shahed has left us now, a man who will forever be remebered by the Hotel Midah for ordering more club sandwiches then any other guest in their history. After the second day, they were familiar with his voice in room service, and by the third, they were ringing us at midnight to check he was still alive if he hadn't ordered at least two!!
We leave behind hotels, comfy pillows, soft non-bed bug blankets and satellite (or any) TV and return to the travelling existence. Onwards to the Cameron Highlands, 6000ft up and the site of the mysterious dissapearance of Jim Thompson...curiouser and curiouser...
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