All in all, there didn't seem to be that much to see within KL Central. I was thinking about venturing out elsewhere but thought that it might be best if I save my money for Australia. I had no idea how long it would take for me to get a job and didn't want to start eating into the money I saved for New Zealand and America. There was nothing that I could think of that I really wanted to see. Even though I had already made my mind up that I wasn't going to be up to much during my last few days, I was sickie. I have no idea why or where it came from but I felt terrible. It was rather pathetic but there were still some things that I needed to do before I left for Australia.
Mel had told me that the sim cards and international call costs in KL are really cheap. I'd not spoken to my parents or anyone back home since leaving so thought it would be nice to hear some familiar voices. It didn't quite go according to plan. I organised a time with my parents - it was my mum's day off and the time scheduled was the start of my dad's lunch break - and a friend. I tried calling and it went through to voicemail. Why in the hell would my mum be on the phone when I'm supposed to be calling? I tried again and it said that my call couldn't be connected. This didn't look good. After several attempts I admitted defeat and swore loudly at my phone. I continued to chunter and spit out expletives despite the fact that I wasn't alone in my 16 bed dorm room. I didn't care. I'm still invisible in my room so they can say/do what they like. I wasn't happy at all. I felt crap and the only thing that would make my day worthwhile turned into nothing. What an arse of a day.
The following day I was in quite a bit of pain and experiencing weird hot sweats and dizzy spells. There was something going round the hostel apparently. I forced myself out of bed and one of the girls offered me some paracetamol. Normally I don't take tablets. Back home I just deal with it as I don't like the thought of taking lots of pills if the pain is manageable. That probably sounds weird but hey. I felt a bit better after I had a shower so continued with my day. First stop was the post office. As per usual, I had no idea where I was going. I asked reception for directions but they weren't very helpful. For some reason everything seems to be straight ahead...when it's not obviously. It's funny when you're with friends but when you're on your own it sucks. Strangely, a local helped me find my way. I was going in the wrong direction. He walked part of the way with me and gave me two copies of a more detailed local map. I could have done with that on my first day really!
My next challenge was figuring out how to send my crap back home. By crap, I mean crap. I have accumulated a lot of stuff that I'd like to keep but don't actually need. I have a lot of that at home too, which is why my room normally resembles a scene from How Clean Is Your House or Hoarders. I'm like the little old lady who won't throw out her battered biscuit tins.
I managed to find a padded envelope big enough to contain my hoard and walked around for a little bit. The stature of the main post office is quite overwhelming but the front desk area is surprisingly small. The decor is white and glass only so I feel like I'm in some futuristic laboratory or a mental institution. The latter would be very fitting for my state of mind whilst being away! After asking a series of (what felt like to me) daft questions, I queued at the correct till point. The assistant weighed it, attached a mailing sticker to the parcel, took my money then handed it back to me. Wait...what? He pointed to a lady at a desk on the other side of the reception area. Bemused, I sidled up to said lady and proffered my parcel. Success. I walked out with my head held high. I didn't look too ridiculous and there were just as many locals who didn't know what they were doing either.
By this point, I was quite far from the hostel and didn't fancy spending a further hour or bumbling about. I doubt I would be so lucky to find a friendly local willing to help me again. I decided to catch the train. On the way back I remembered to take some photos of the graffiti painted along the embankment. The local governing body allows this area to be an open canvas for local artists. The graffiti is kept for a period of time and then painted over for new pieces. If, however, a piece is especially brilliant, it will stay there longer.
Mel had told me that the sim cards and international call costs in KL are really cheap. I'd not spoken to my parents or anyone back home since leaving so thought it would be nice to hear some familiar voices. It didn't quite go according to plan. I organised a time with my parents - it was my mum's day off and the time scheduled was the start of my dad's lunch break - and a friend. I tried calling and it went through to voicemail. Why in the hell would my mum be on the phone when I'm supposed to be calling? I tried again and it said that my call couldn't be connected. This didn't look good. After several attempts I admitted defeat and swore loudly at my phone. I continued to chunter and spit out expletives despite the fact that I wasn't alone in my 16 bed dorm room. I didn't care. I'm still invisible in my room so they can say/do what they like. I wasn't happy at all. I felt crap and the only thing that would make my day worthwhile turned into nothing. What an arse of a day.
The following day I was in quite a bit of pain and experiencing weird hot sweats and dizzy spells. There was something going round the hostel apparently. I forced myself out of bed and one of the girls offered me some paracetamol. Normally I don't take tablets. Back home I just deal with it as I don't like the thought of taking lots of pills if the pain is manageable. That probably sounds weird but hey. I felt a bit better after I had a shower so continued with my day. First stop was the post office. As per usual, I had no idea where I was going. I asked reception for directions but they weren't very helpful. For some reason everything seems to be straight ahead...when it's not obviously. It's funny when you're with friends but when you're on your own it sucks. Strangely, a local helped me find my way. I was going in the wrong direction. He walked part of the way with me and gave me two copies of a more detailed local map. I could have done with that on my first day really!
My next challenge was figuring out how to send my crap back home. By crap, I mean crap. I have accumulated a lot of stuff that I'd like to keep but don't actually need. I have a lot of that at home too, which is why my room normally resembles a scene from How Clean Is Your House or Hoarders. I'm like the little old lady who won't throw out her battered biscuit tins.
I managed to find a padded envelope big enough to contain my hoard and walked around for a little bit. The stature of the main post office is quite overwhelming but the front desk area is surprisingly small. The decor is white and glass only so I feel like I'm in some futuristic laboratory or a mental institution. The latter would be very fitting for my state of mind whilst being away! After asking a series of (what felt like to me) daft questions, I queued at the correct till point. The assistant weighed it, attached a mailing sticker to the parcel, took my money then handed it back to me. Wait...what? He pointed to a lady at a desk on the other side of the reception area. Bemused, I sidled up to said lady and proffered my parcel. Success. I walked out with my head held high. I didn't look too ridiculous and there were just as many locals who didn't know what they were doing either.
By this point, I was quite far from the hostel and didn't fancy spending a further hour or bumbling about. I doubt I would be so lucky to find a friendly local willing to help me again. I decided to catch the train. On the way back I remembered to take some photos of the graffiti painted along the embankment. The local governing body allows this area to be an open canvas for local artists. The graffiti is kept for a period of time and then painted over for new pieces. If, however, a piece is especially brilliant, it will stay there longer.
Never-ending story
On the way back to the hostel, I stopped off at KL Central station to purchase my train ticket to Singapore. Again, to save money, I opted for a night train. There were no beds available so I would be seated the whole way. Having experienced night journeys in Japan, Thailand and the first half of Malaysia, I felt like I knew the score. I decided to locate where I needed to wait for the train as I didn't want to have to look for it when I had the beast.
I found this at the station. You stick your hand in the mouth and the machine reads your palm. Very strange!
After a long afternoon, I felt that I deserved a treat. Starbucks was the closest place I could find and just happened to be a regular haunt of mine due to the free wifi. I was going to get my usual mocha when I saw a new Christmassy drink which looked delicious. Cranberry White Chocolate Mocha Frappuccino? Yes please.
Table not included!
I looked around for somewhere to sit and all that was available was a set of four seats minus a table. The area was ignored and a few people in front of me walked away. I wanted a seat and a table wasn't essential to me. I embraced the ostracised resting space. I had a sudden flashback to my childhood where we'd all pretend to be on a train, using our imaginations to create the outer shell. All those around me were too engrossed in their business meetings or studies to notice me and my humourous circumstance.
I enjoyed my drink but my sweet tooth was left unsatisfied. I just happened to pass a cake counter and succumbed to the urge.
Triple chocolate decadence.
I had one more stop before I could truly rest. The duff sim card I was given needed to be sorted. It did end up costing me more than it should have done as I spent half of my credit trying to call home. Annoyingly the charges start as soon as the phone rings. So even if you don't get to speak to someone, it still costs you money. Great if you want to bankrupt stalkers, not so good for me who just wanted to call home. The shop assistant who sold me the sim card recognised me straight away and asked how I was getting on. Somehow he managed to fix it and I was put through to my dad. I didn't even think about what time it was back home. I'd called really early and both my parents were getting ready for work. Oops. I arranged to speak to my mum later and jumped on Facebook to tell my friend that I'd sorted my phone. Hooray.
I spoke to my mum for half an hour about absolutely nothing. There was no major news from home so we just spoke about Twilight and other films as well as what I was missing on TV. I write most of what happens in my blog so I felt like my mum knew everything already! My mum listed all the people she knows who reads my blog which was surprising. I have a little York fanbase. Hey guys!! It was quite touching as my mum excitedly told me. It felt like she was proud of what I've been doing and my writing which comforted me. Who doesn't like having proud parents?
The night was young and I still had time for a final trip to the Reggae Bar and another dose of the shisha!
Concentration: I'm attempting the dragon.
Mel shows me how it's done.
We're like a little family now.
Does anyone think that Steff looks like a Russian sailor in his stripy top? He keeps getting asked if he's Russian. It's bizarre.
Chinatown is completely different on a night. The streets are so quiet and everything is boarded up so it felt like I was in some old western movie. It would be fitting for a tumbleweed to waft by my ankles at this moment. Instead it was a giant cockroach followed by a judgemental white cat who turned its nose up at a rat which scuttled past.
Petaling Street: Seemingly the heart and soul of Chinatown
Rubbish and other debris coat the streets whilst the street lanterns hover above like fireflies.
Although my evening with the guys ended on a high, my return to the dorm soon brought me back to reality. It stank. I don't mean it was a little bit whiffy. It was so strong, I thought somebody had actually gone to the bathroom in my dorm. It was disgusting. I really feel that girls are a heck of a lot dirtier than guys. This moment just confirms it further! I decided to stay up as long as I could, using my laptop as a distraction, so I could then fall to sleep straight away and not choke on the fumes. Be warned guys, they may look all girly and innocent but they're not. They're worse than you!
*****
Mel, Steff and I checked out on the same day. We had to be out of our rooms by 12pm but could still use the hostel facilities. We stuck around for a bit and had something to eat before heading to KL Central station. Mel and Steff were going to catch a flight destined for the Gold Coast in Australia. They planned on renting a car and driving to Sydney. It sounded like a lovely way to see Australia and wished them luck. I was at the station incredibly early to hijack some wifi, call my friend back home and then eventually make my way to the platform for my night train.
Not before seeing this though...
First a palm reader, now a love test.
Are you a dead fish?
Kuala Lumpur was good but probably not worth a two week stay unless you're visiting friends. There's plenty to do socially but if you just want to "see the sights" then a day or two will be sufficient. Chinatown is crazy but if you've travelled within SE Asia you'll be fine. I enjoyed my time here and made some friends I hope to see again in the future.
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