I wasn't in the mood to do very much with my Sunday in Kuala Lumpur. Jet lagged and tired from the long journey the day before, I just meandered around a bit near my hotel in the Golden Triangle area, strolled down to Chinatown, caught the metro to the Twin Towers and had the odd cheeky beer.
KL is a relatively small capital city and can be navigated mostly by foot. I really like the place - it is clean, compact, modern and friendly. It's certainly nothing like a Bangkok or a Saigon when it comes to the full on ferocity that is often the case with Asian cities.
My train on Sunday night sauntered out of the uber modern Kl Sentral station at 20.30, bound for the north east of Malaysia on the famous 'jungle line'. Night trains in this part of the planet are an unforgettable experience. For an absurdly cheap price, you get your own bed (shut off by curtain from the rest of the train) right next to a big window, complete with reading light and a little rest for putting cans of beer on. As the train chugged its way through the Malaysian countryside, I laughed out loud at the comfort I was enjoying (in bed with a cold beer in hand) for less than a fiver...
At around midnight I started to get a bit peckish, so I went to the restaurant car for a meal (you get a proper feed too - none of this mircrowaved bacorn sarnie bollocks like in the UK). As I was tucking in to my chicken fried rice, the train stopped at a station where there were literally hundreds of people stood on the platform - all cheering and waiving the Malaysian flag. As it had gone past midnight, it was now August 31 - Malaysia day, the anniversary of independence from Britain. A member of the train staff even gave me my own flag to wave, which I briefly did before realising that I looked like a tit and returning to my bed.
The next thing I knew, it was 8am and we were slowly making our way through the misty Malaysian jungle. I was still tired, but it's pointless trying to sleep when you're travelling through such stunning scenery. Captivated by the mix of the green from the trees and the thick brown water rushing beneath, I just laid still and listened to the ipod.
I was scheduled to arrive at my destination - Tanah Mera - at 9.30am. So when the train pulled in at a station around 9.45, I duly collected my belongings and disembarked. There was nothing to indicate where I was, but I felt it safe to assume I'd reached my destination - until I finally saw a sign and discovered this was not my stop. I only just managed to leap back on board - the train was actually moving as I dragged myself onto it with my backpack. I thank Christ I managed to do this, as otherwise I would have been stranded in the arse end of nowhere in the middle of a sodding jungle...
It t0ok another three hours before we finally got to Tanah Mera. By now I had ceased enjoying the journey, particuarly as there was a shrieking baby in my carriage, and just wanted to get off the train after a not inconsiderable 17 hours on board. I don't know if it was the Malaysia Day celebrations that delayed us or whether this delay is typical, but it did take a bit of the gloss off an otherwise thoroughly enjoyaqble journey.
At Tanah Merah I shared a taxi with two other Brits, who had also been on the train, to the port of Kuala Besut. I could barely keep my eyes open during this 45 minute journey, which is probably just as well given that the driver was a total lunatic at the wheel of a car that probably hasn't passed an MOT since 1988.
From Kuala Besut I had to get a speed boat to my ultimate destination - the Perhenthian Islands. This actually turned out to be a more stressful experience than it sounds because of the various touts trying to get their hands on your dosh at the jetty. I eventually ended up on board a boat that was being driven by a Malaysian guy wearing a Purple Ipswich Town replica shirt from circa fuck knows when. It was very amusing to see the rest of the boat's passengers tease him, my favourite comment from one guy being: 'Mate, why the fuck are you wearing that shirt? it ain't cool to support Ipswich Town.' I got chatting to this bloke, and after I revealed my support for Norwich City, he immediately shouted '7-1!' and started laughing. I asked who he supports, and to my amusement it transpired he was a Southampton fan. If I was in his shoes, given that the Saints will be playing Division 4 football next season, I wouldn't be talking about the game at all!
Anyway, I'm now on the amazing Perhenthian Isalnds - somewhere I could quite happily spend the rest of my life...
KL is a relatively small capital city and can be navigated mostly by foot. I really like the place - it is clean, compact, modern and friendly. It's certainly nothing like a Bangkok or a Saigon when it comes to the full on ferocity that is often the case with Asian cities.
My train on Sunday night sauntered out of the uber modern Kl Sentral station at 20.30, bound for the north east of Malaysia on the famous 'jungle line'. Night trains in this part of the planet are an unforgettable experience. For an absurdly cheap price, you get your own bed (shut off by curtain from the rest of the train) right next to a big window, complete with reading light and a little rest for putting cans of beer on. As the train chugged its way through the Malaysian countryside, I laughed out loud at the comfort I was enjoying (in bed with a cold beer in hand) for less than a fiver...
At around midnight I started to get a bit peckish, so I went to the restaurant car for a meal (you get a proper feed too - none of this mircrowaved bacorn sarnie bollocks like in the UK). As I was tucking in to my chicken fried rice, the train stopped at a station where there were literally hundreds of people stood on the platform - all cheering and waiving the Malaysian flag. As it had gone past midnight, it was now August 31 - Malaysia day, the anniversary of independence from Britain. A member of the train staff even gave me my own flag to wave, which I briefly did before realising that I looked like a tit and returning to my bed.
The next thing I knew, it was 8am and we were slowly making our way through the misty Malaysian jungle. I was still tired, but it's pointless trying to sleep when you're travelling through such stunning scenery. Captivated by the mix of the green from the trees and the thick brown water rushing beneath, I just laid still and listened to the ipod.
I was scheduled to arrive at my destination - Tanah Mera - at 9.30am. So when the train pulled in at a station around 9.45, I duly collected my belongings and disembarked. There was nothing to indicate where I was, but I felt it safe to assume I'd reached my destination - until I finally saw a sign and discovered this was not my stop. I only just managed to leap back on board - the train was actually moving as I dragged myself onto it with my backpack. I thank Christ I managed to do this, as otherwise I would have been stranded in the arse end of nowhere in the middle of a sodding jungle...
It t0ok another three hours before we finally got to Tanah Mera. By now I had ceased enjoying the journey, particuarly as there was a shrieking baby in my carriage, and just wanted to get off the train after a not inconsiderable 17 hours on board. I don't know if it was the Malaysia Day celebrations that delayed us or whether this delay is typical, but it did take a bit of the gloss off an otherwise thoroughly enjoyaqble journey.
At Tanah Merah I shared a taxi with two other Brits, who had also been on the train, to the port of Kuala Besut. I could barely keep my eyes open during this 45 minute journey, which is probably just as well given that the driver was a total lunatic at the wheel of a car that probably hasn't passed an MOT since 1988.
From Kuala Besut I had to get a speed boat to my ultimate destination - the Perhenthian Islands. This actually turned out to be a more stressful experience than it sounds because of the various touts trying to get their hands on your dosh at the jetty. I eventually ended up on board a boat that was being driven by a Malaysian guy wearing a Purple Ipswich Town replica shirt from circa fuck knows when. It was very amusing to see the rest of the boat's passengers tease him, my favourite comment from one guy being: 'Mate, why the fuck are you wearing that shirt? it ain't cool to support Ipswich Town.' I got chatting to this bloke, and after I revealed my support for Norwich City, he immediately shouted '7-1!' and started laughing. I asked who he supports, and to my amusement it transpired he was a Southampton fan. If I was in his shoes, given that the Saints will be playing Division 4 football next season, I wouldn't be talking about the game at all!
Anyway, I'm now on the amazing Perhenthian Isalnds - somewhere I could quite happily spend the rest of my life...
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