Homeward Bound.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia - Toffee Nut Frapp- uccuino in hand - and oddly, across from a Cheers restaurant - we sit in the Kuala Lumpur Inter- national Airport, one hour into the many, many hour trip back from our sojourn abroad (one hour from Langkawi to KL, 14 hours to Paris, nine hours to Toronto, two hours to London). Of course, all times are approximate, given what we went through to get here. At least our bags are checked right through to Canada and we have a bulkhead seat for the next stretch.

Anyway, there's much, much more to come from our wonderful time in Langkawi, but in the meantime, I thought I'd share shots of a couple of our new friends. The monkey at right was at the Seven Wells waterfall, one of ten times we crossed paths with the little, climbing critters. A little mohawked teen, he was one of the friendlier guys we met. Likely because he was quite keen to find out what SCS had in her green plastic bag. Alas, he didn't get to find out, so he scurried away, lost in the canopy.

Upon originally looking at resorts in Langkawi, I had become excited by the prospect of seeing swimming monkeys. We didn't find any, but we did see several swimming monitor lizards. Snaking their way through the green water, tongue forever flicking in and out. We found the one at right in a mangrove forest, crawling through the muck and getting generally dirty. His mom's going to be angry. Then make him get out the Tide. One of the locals tossed it a chicken carcass, which was soon dissolved into mush. Finger lickin' good. Quite an impressive creature.

Another flight to catch -- more to follow.

Penang: Day One.

Penang, Malaysia - Having left KL behind, we had a great day on the island of Penang, which is to the north-west of the nation's capital and on the Straits of Malacca. It was an earliesh start to the day, but we had to be sure to get one more Hilton breakfast under our belts. Literally.

By high speed train to the airport, we passed Putrajaya, a recently-planned city designed to ease the burden on Kuala Lumpur. Home to the new Multimedia Super Corridor (MSC), which is intended to replicate silicon valley and push Malaysia to so-called first-world status by 2020, Putrajaya also serves as the current base for the Federal government. And the Prime Minister's home, atop a tall hill, looms large above. Over the half hour trip, we also passed many of the palm plantations we saw upon landing earlier in the week. They really do stretch for as far as the eye can see, all in perfectly ordered rows.

One of SCS's friends picked us up from the airport and brought us to the Hotel Vistana, where we will spend a couple of nights prior to heading to Langkawi for a bit of R&R. And hopefully, some monkeys! We're staying just up the street from Universiti Sains Malaysia, a hike from downtown, but in the shadow of a tropically verdant mountain. Interestingly, outside downtown, nearly all homes are gated.

Wandering downtown was one of the neatest experiences thus far for someone interested in how people live. Gorgeous buildings, but most in need of some serious repair. Sidewalks that end abruptly, dropping off to the street. And into the gutter. Weaving in-and-out of archways hanging from which are Chinese lanterns, blankets and other wares. A little tougher to navigate for tall people. Small, one room homes you can peer into, almost all of which have a Chinese alter directly in front of the door, candle light flickering over the walls while children scurry about, helping make dinner or watching television. Or others, in which all of one's worldly belongings are stacked to the ceiling in a single room. In the face of very real poverty, people's faces are painted as brightly as the colours on the doors, shutters and archways that carry you into their worlds. Bamboo blinds, blinking. Motor scooters dueling with rickshaws on the road.

You cannot effectively get many places here without some form of transport- ation, so there are a lot of cars, but even more motorcycles or scooters, and bicycles. One man lugged a dozen or so bleach bottles of detergent, tied -- hanging like jewelery -- to his bike. Another, strapped his eggs to the back of a motorcycle. One accident in this heat and you'd have a giant, instantaneous omelet. And likely, a street party. People's livelihoods strapped to two wheels and their balance -- the way people drive here, that's a serious risk.

Everywhere, little shops filled with trinkets, antiques and artwork. Alleys which open into vast spaces filled with fabrics in a full array of colours. Chinese temples, Hindu temples and the occasional Buddhist temple tucked quaintly between people's homes. Apart from occasional, small alleys, jutting jagged like veins in random places, most buildings are attached to each other. And the roads: not designed according to a grid.

We wandered through Little India, which was also awash in colour: bright flower leis in oranges, reds and yellows. Saris in combinations of all colours. Small backpacker havens which could be had for the equivalent of $6 CAD a night. With a fan.

A little peckish, we stopped into one of the street side Indian restaurants to sample some local fare. Taunting the taste buds, some of it was spicy enough that I saw colours. And not from all of the flowers hanging outside. But it was also extremely tasty and the blackberry lassi certainly helped to cool things off. Completely full, all for a few dollars. It was a satisfying way to take in some of the local culture at what appeared to be a family-run establishment, the matriarch perched on a chair, silently directing the men about the restaurant as they gathered us food bathed in yellows, browns and reds.

After lunch, the rain began to fall (which helped polish off the last remains of spice the lassi couldn't handle) and we made it over to the Eastern & Oriental Hotel, a bastion of Britishness that remains from colonial times. Swanky, even. As the rain fell harder, we huddled inside the dining room over a coffee, then a glass of wine, overlooking the choppy water. As the storm lifted, we were gradually able to see across to mainland Malaysia and the whitecaps soothed themselves back into the ocean. Venturing outside to take a couple of pictures, I was greeted by my new, little friend to the right. Not the best of pictures because the lizard skittered along the wet pavement better than I. Trying to get closer, it took off, dancing up a covered drainage ditch, splashing happily away. As did I.

We enjoyed dinner with a number of people associated with SCS's conference and partook in some Malay food, including fried seafood balls coated in -- essentially -- croutons and chicken wrapped in banana leaves. What a good day.

KL: Day Three. Eating it Up.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia - This city is so much about food -- it's every- where. Which, of course, makes me very happy. 

Restaurants, street corners, side street alleys: food is all around, wafting into your sinuses and wrestling you in new directions. What do you feel like? It's all here.

Big restaurants to little stalls with a couple of red, plastic chairs. Or the curb. Indian, Chinese, or just plain ol' food. Traditional family recipes. New ideas. Everywhere. And it's cheap. In most cases, it's people's livelihood. While I expected the so-called 'street meat', nothing really prepared me for people emerging from holes in the walls of dank alleys with Corningware dishes full of meats, potatoes and vegetables swimming in a variety of sauces and other coatings. 

A bag of fruit, served with a long wooden skewer, will maybe set you back a quarter. And there's little more refreshing on a hot day than a bag of fresh watermelon. Beverages, too, in colours that would make Benjamin Moore proud. Deep purples (no, not the 70's hair band), the limest of lime greens, bright reds and rich browns. Grape, lychee, starfruit and watermelon, all mixed with giant slabs of ice, carted around town to quench you from the omnipresent heat, which drapes itself over your shoulders like a giant, wool suit. I had the sugar cane. While these pictures don't really do it justice, hawker stalls are everywhere, some with little kitchens in the back where their owners pare garlic, chop vegetables and prepare meats for grilling, boiling or -- more likely -- frying. Others just appear, as though by magic. 

We walked down the alley to the right around 13:00 local time today, squeezing between tables and vendors, and it was packed. With likely a half dozen or so vendors in this alley alone, the smells, colours and commotion were frenetic, bombarding the senses. From each table we passed, you could hear people exclaim, "Mat Salleh! Mat Salleh!", meaning "White People". Apparently, in Malay, this also refers to "Mad Sailor". Well, I guess I was a mad flyer the other day. We had had too enormous a breakfast -- which included a waffle bar, an omelet bar, fruits and breads of every variety, as well as number of ethnic recipes -- to stop for lunch, but much of the food looked and smelled incredible. Bellies, aching.  

We spent the morning wandering through India Town, which had its moments of garishness (gold jewelery stores, guarded by large, gun-toting security personnel), bright colours (saris and other fabrics) and food for as far as the eye could see and the nose could smell. It was a good walk through some of the less-travelled (by tourists) streets. But far from quiet. We had hoped to make it up to the observation bridge which connects the two spires of the Petronas Towers, but all of the day's tickets had been distributed by the time we got there (they're handed out on a first-come-first-served basis, starting at 8:30).

In addition to food, there are also many malls here. For being a relatively poor country (though there are more millionaires per capita here than anywhere else in Asia), commercialism has sunk its claws in quite deeply. I wasn't quite able to get my camera out quickly enough to adequately capture the juxtaposition that seems to demonstrate this, but the picture to the right is of KL's 'Mega Mall', which was built right around a previously existing Hindu Temple. The circle shows a part of where this tiny temple hunkers in the shadow of the mighty Ringett. The many arms of Vishnu waving away Starbucks, The Body Shop and McDonald's, statues of Ganesh, trumpeting in horror. Capitalism, seemingly, the new religion.  

While our hotel has real pine trees in its lobby and a 30 foot-high Santa Claus, it still makes relative sense to me considering its clientele. But, along the same lines as the dichotomy described above, SCS and I were somewhat startled when we saw a Muslim woman wearing, on top of her tudung (a Muslim headdress), a Santa hat, replete with reindeer antlers. It was hard to justify in our minds, it was so banal. I didn't want to be insensitive when taking the picture, so I hurriedly took it from behind: a commercial, Christian holiday advertised by a woman in full Muslim dress. My, the dollar beckons. And yes, that's McDonald's -- offering McRingett Savers -- in the background.

Interesting side note: Kuala Lumpur is the only city in the world to have a million-year-old primary forest within the heart of the city. That said, it's our last night in KL -- our Malaysian tour continues to Penang tomorrow and we have to catch our flight early in the morning. 

Back to the airport!

KL: Day Two.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia - Another busy day in Kuala Lumpur, albeit a slower one starting as we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and had to pack in order to switch hotels to the Hilton in KL Sentral. Whoa – feeling a bit like a rock star here. What an incredible looking hotel. The room is über- modern (isn’t anything with the word “über” in it?), with wood and tile floors, a deep marble tub and ceiling mounted shower head, sliding frosted glass doors throughout and a wall mounted flat screen television that is about four feet wide. Not that we’ve even had it on, but it seems larger than some of the cars outside.

Shirt striped diagonally under the strap from my bag, I’m pretty sure today was even hotter than yesterday. Yes, another sweaty one. There was also a massive tropical thunderstorm when we got back this afternoon, which made everything instantly white outside, it was raining so hard. Shaking the windows, the thunder sounded like giant church bells. If your head was inside them. We sat and watched it from the little chaise lounge in the bay window. Pip pip, quite posh.

When we got out wandering, we took the train to Masjid Jamek (enjoying a watermelon juice smoothie on the way) and over to Merdeka Square, the National Mosque and the old train station. Merdeka Square, home to the world’s tallest flag pole – at 100 metres – is where independence is celebrated. Because of the time of day, we weren’t able to go into the mosque, which can hold up to 15,000 people at a time. It was also over this stretch I saw some of my favorite architecture of the trip, with several buildings built in the Moorish style. The old and new train stations – across the street from each other – were fun to walk through and take pictures of. The postal building, too, is very neat – tall and white with cut-outs all the way up.

We then made our way over to Central Market, which sells crafts and antiques. To this point, I had thought the prevalence of Santa Claus and Christmas carols in Malaysia was the most anomalous things of the trip. But, no – brace yourself. First, SCS and I chuckled when we came across a store in the market which sold moccasins and other traditionally North American First Nations’ wares. Then, coming into the centre area, we were greeted by a crowd surrounding a Malay man, resplendent in a full headdress. Playing a harpsichord. Playing Celine Dion on the harpsichord. No, really. So discordant. I would have found this disturbing enough back home, but in south-east Malaysia? Way too much to grasp. Heads still swimming, SCS and I got some practice haggling with one of the vendors and I’m sure both sides felt they came out alright.

In Chinatown, one of the shopkeepers made us samples of tea in thimble-sized cups and we stopped into another for a snack and a drink. We also stopped into one of the temples, where coils of incense were burning all around.

For dinner, we met up with one of SCS’s friends and he took us to a Japanese buffet in another of the suburbs. There were more options than I could have possibly imagined. Sushi: check. Sashimi: check. Noodles: check. Shark fin soup: check. Ostrich: check. Wait a second. Check? Because Japan is really known for its ostriches, terrorizing the residents of Tokyo. Ostrich? Really? With how sharks are harvested for their fins and then disposed of, I wasn’t pleased to see the soup, either.

But, we did enjoy copious amounts of sushi, carefully avoiding those with lime green-coloured roe on the top. The thermonuclear colours on some of the sushi was a little off-putting. Pinks and greens and yellows. Children stood by, mesmerized by them, though. No, not really. Still, piles of salmon, octopus, eel and a variety of other fish. And some quail, which – even covered in sauce – looked startlingly like pigeon. But the star of the dinner was the mashed potato machine. Frightening. Absolutely frightening. Press a button and – presto! – liquid pours out from a boy licking his lips. Eventually, it solidifies and you can press another button and – presto again! – gravy. Shudder. As a part of the experience, we actually tried it. And we will never speak of it again.

Oh, and the hotel? Coming back tonight, I went for a quick swim in the pool that weaves its way around the outside of the hotel complex and overlooks the city. A full moon and palm trees, twinkling with white Christmas lights – and the city below. You know, it’s really a rough life sometimes.

Juvenile, yes. Likely even culturally insensitive (much like Mr. Dong saying, "yeah, yeah, I've heard them all before; enough already"). But it was a picture that needed to be taken. I find random coffin shops odd as it is, but the proprietor made it even better. Best of all, though: when SCS read the sign to me, she didn't think anything of it, beyond what the store sold.

Like Giant Steel Asparagus Reaching Into the Sky.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia - Just ahead of a thunderstorm this afternoon, we made it out to the Petronas Twin Towers, which was the world's tallest high rise of the twentieth century and remains the tallest set of twin towers. They were also the scene of the crime in the 1999 movie, Entrapment, featuring Sean Connery and Catherine Zeta-Jones. It's dizzying to look up at them and, for whatever the reason, they reminded me of giant steel asparagus. Must've been hungry at the moment. Of course, all the glass shards wouldn't be too tasty. There is also a park with fountains underneath, though they were not flowing today. We also missed the time to be able to go up to the bridge which connects the two towers, but will likely do so tomorrow. Oddly (though impressively), it's free to do.

We paused for a coffee inside the Towers at a Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf and walked around the extremely high-end mall inside. So tony. At its centre: a giant Christmas tree. Again, the prevalence of holiday trappings has really caught me off guard, considering Christians account for approximately five per cent of the population here (Muslims, Buddhists and Hindus predominate). But there was Santa around every corner, grinning and jolly. While looking at the tree, an Indian man decided to come over to ask if I would take a picture of him with SCS. Um, yeah. I declined. Another tried to sell me a 'Rolex'. Again, um, no. Not to be confused with UMNO, the nation's ruling party (and this, not being a democracy...)

Following this, we took the (above-ground) subway out to Bangsar, one of KL's neighbourhoods. My first experience on a packed Asian train -- I was definitely glad to be tall, and decided to be wary of pickpockets as song lyric "One of these things is not like the others" popped into my head. Was pretty glad I didn't smell like I did yesterday after the flight...

The funniest thing (to me) about the subway system are the posters all over which advertise (or loudly exclaim!) the long laundry list of things you must definitely not do on them, including (but not restricted to): chewing gum, carrying durian fruit (they stink) or 'be close' to someone (meaning, hugging or kissing). The last one even has a diagram, in silhouette, of a man and a woman, apparently embracing. Struck out through a big, red circle. Another reminder that I am visiting a different culture.

We poked around in Bangsar for a bit and had Thai food at "the Social". The smell of the thunderstorm hung languidly in the air as we enjoyed a variety of Thai delicacies on the patio.

Day one of KL is under my belt. Apparently, the people at SCS's conference this morning were impressed I had been 'brave enough' to venture out to Petaling Street on my first day. And on my own, no less! It has been a day of heat, a new culture and crazy, broken sidewalks where you're just as likely to find a motorcycle careening your way as anything else. It has also taken an adjustment while crossing the road to remember that the drivers are on the other side here. Check the wrong way and one of them will no doubt pick you off.

Um, okay? Or not.

KL: Day One, Morning.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia - A much needed respite after spending the morning trekking solo around KL, particularly considering the heat. It’s currently 32 degrees out, with the humidex pushing that up to 43 degrees. Yeah, it’s warm. Throw some curry on me, I think I’m done.

I had nowhere specific to go this morning as SCS is busy presenting at her conference, but I knew she really wanted to show me around KLCC (Kuala Lumpur City Centre), where the Towers are, so I didn’t head there. How to start the day was a bit of a dilemma considering I was keen to start discovering, but, being ‘on vacation’, I also really had no reason to hurry. So, it was a casual breakfast buffet in the hotel where I got my fill of food spanning a number of cultures.

Then it was off into the tropical heat, headed wherever my feet took me. A battered prison in the middle of the city, the blue-domed mosque and the famed Petaling Street, or China Town. I was also drawn to KL’s sports stadium, which was surrounded by extremely tall, spiked fences and seemed rather austere. The guard let me poke around inside a bit and it seemed nicer, if not very colonial on the inside.

As much as I expected this experience to be a smorgasbord for the senses, there were times they felt a bit overwhelmed. The noise was abundant: horns, people speaking in many languages, Christmas carols (yes, even though this is a predominantly Muslim country, Christmas carols), motorbikes and trains. It even seemed you could hear the heat. Smells of fresh fish, incense, diesel pollution and various foods blended in the nostrils like the mixture of cultures that are so evident here. Strains of Celine Dion, P-Diddy (or whatever he’s calling himself these days) and John Lennon mixed into Christmas carols – with too much bass – and Indian sitar. And then one figure (besides myself) stands out in the sea of dark faces: Santa Claus.

China Town was an experience unlike any other thus far. “Nike”, “Adidas” and “Mont Blanc” pens everywhere, interspersed with clucking chickens who didn’t know the end was nigh. Buckets of left over parts and fish heads hanging, grinning maniacally. A man, sitting on a butcher’s table, getting a deep tissue massage (were they planning to relax him prior to quartering him, I asked myself). A woman asked where I had bought my hat and looked at me incredulously when I replied, 'Canada'. Another man walked three or four blocks with me, telling me how his sister is moving to Toronto in the new year to be a nurse. I became a little skeptical when he later asked if he could meet me in a particular spot this evening.

“…Colonial stone crumbles into glass:
Commerce, the new imperialism.”

I long ago learned to not look as much like a tourist by walking as though I belonged and by not pulling out a map every twelve seconds (that’s my excuse if I get lost, anyway). It’s funny here, because regardless of how much I keep myself from gazing at the tops of buildings or wandering too aimlessly, I still stand out. In a country predominantly populated by Malay, Chinese and Indian, I come across as being pretty pale. And tall. I suppose the camera doesn’t help my cause either.

Day One. Oh, and Days Two and Three Thrown In.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia - 44 hours door-to-door. And that’s not considering the difference in time zone, multiple curry dishes, nor the two hours spent hosing down in the shower to scrape off those parts of the trip that decided to leech into my skin. Curry was but a part of that equation. After the day we had yesterday, I felt dirtier than Rick Solomon after One Night in Paris. And just as unfulfilled.

We arrived at the Hotel Istana in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia tonight around 20:30 local time (13 hours ahead of the time back home – and after having left on Saturday at 12:30 EST), on the heels of a circuitous route through Toronto, Paris and London, the last of which was an unexpected stop. 35 straight hours my eyelids kept running, clicking like shutters, until I was finally able to sleep on the twelve hour flight from London to KL.

Our flights were significantly delayed in Toronto, Paris and London – oh wait, that’s three for three – and cancelled in Paris. After much pleading in both English and French with Malaysian Air representatives in France – even pulling out the fact that SCS has a presentation first thing Tuesday morning for the Prime Minister of Malaysia – we were finally able to get seats on a flight to KL from London, England, leaving ten hours later than we had originally intended. But of course, we had to get to London first. And our bags had been lost because of complications with the cancelled flight from Paris. More than an hour later, they appeared in the nick of time and we ran to the gate just seconds prior to closing by surreptitiously jumping a few lines. Naturally, the terminal from which the plane would be leaving was miles away.

Oh, but wait – theme of the day – when we got to the gate, we found out this plane, too, had been delayed 90 minutes. At that point, it really didn’t matter as we would have been waiting several hours in Heathrow anyway, so it gave us an opportunity to see the newer (and nicer) terminal in Paris. And an opportunity for SCS to catch a Charlie nap.

The situation in France had been a bit of a farce and SCS and I had initially been laughing at our welcome to the country. The airport was beyond dated. And far beyond efficient. When we got to the desk to check in and to get our tickets, we were told the flight wasn't on the board yet and that we'd have to come back in an hour. So we made our way back down through the creepy caverns and back to the terminal's central hub to have a coffee and a pain au chocolat (I believe I have finally swayed SCS to the dark side on those at this point). When we returned to the gate, we were told that we were being given lunch at the Hippopotamus restaurant downstairs because the flight had been delayed three hours. No problems. Asking directions six times, we were finally able to make our way down to the restaurant in the 'Shopping District'. Which included a McDonald's, another restaurant, a pharmacy and a convenience store that had different names depending on which door you entered. Not much of a 'district'. Best of all, we were able to waltz out into Paris without ever once going through immigration or customs. So much for post-911 security.

The centre of the terminal was open-air and consisted of several glass tubes with moving carpets criss-crossing each other and taking people to different levels; that said, no matter where you were trying to access one, it was always going in the opposite direction. SCS likened it to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Hm, Charlie and Chocolate -- likely her two favorite things. And the sign in the elevator helpfully pointed to the floor for "Halls 2-24" and to another floor for "Hall 5". Must be a pretty big Hall. It turns out that one of the Malaysian Airlines planes from the previous day required repairs, stranding those passengers. They, in turn, took our flight, causing two days' worth of nightmares. The worst part is that we found out later they knew all along we weren't going to be flying, but didn't tell most people in enough time to make alternate arrangements. There were some pretty unhappy folks.

In the air, I saw the Eiffel Tower all lit up, and some fireworks over the Thames in London, as well as the Millennium Ferris Wheel. Flying over KL, you could see palm tree plantations as far as you looked, all ordered in perfect lines.

The hotel provides us with a great view of the Petronas Towers and is very nice, though we each described it as “worn”. We didn’t get to see much of KL on the drive in, though the Moorish architecture is one thing that certainly stands out. That’s what the next couple of days, and feet, are for – Discovery!