New Years Eve 2013-2014 - we were in bed before 11pm, and I said to Guillaume, "I wonder where we'll be next New Years...?" And he replied; "I think we'll be 37 storeys up, in the heart of downtown Kuala Lumpur, at a rave on an active heli pad with a bottle of whiskey, an array of tasty Asian treats, and a 360 degree view of the city skyline, interrupted only by powerful party-time lasers of a zillion bright colours. The bar staff will all be dressed as pilots and we'll be given step ladders to sit on." - Nah, he didn't really say that. ...But that's what happened...
--------
Malaysia is the continents most diverse melting pot, where the strongest elements of vastly differing cultures, religions and ideologies merge seemingly harmoniously, in a rapidly developing and evolving country.
Much of the population (which now exceeds 30 million) is of either Indian or Chinese descent, with an increasing migration from Thailand, Cambodia, Indonesia and worldwide. When it comes to faith, Islam officially dominates with most of the Malay population declaring themselves Muslim. However, the government protects freedom of religion, and as such mosques, Buddhist shrines, Hindu Temples, and churches can be found within close proximity to one another. It feels mostly peaceful. Like everyone gets on.
Everything in Malaysia is a mixture. From the dramatically varied landscapes, and architecture influenced by numerous nations, time periods and styles, to unique climates from one coast to another, and every town falling somewhere very different across the incredibly broad spectrum of wealth and prosperity. Small communities of indigenous peoples inhabiting the dense jungles, remain self sufficient yet struggle in extreme poverty, whilst Kuala Lumpur has become a futuristic city of many massive malls and impressively tall towers, interconnected by air conditioned walkways.
The multitude of influences on the countries cuisine have collaboratively generated a level of yum that is unsurpassed elsewhere in Asia. Street food is still popular, particularly in Penang - where every corner is an outdoor kitchen. It's the Indian influence that delivers the most moorish of flavours. Guillaume confidently announced he ate the 'worlds most delicious' samosa in Georgetown's Little India. I agreed. They're huge, and you can buy five for a dollar.
For people across South East Asia, Peninsular Malaysia is a magnet for the ambitious. Its continued growth and potential is evident. Arriving to the country overland from Thailand, we witnessed crowds of the curious lining up for miles to get in. Approaching the border, our bus slowed to a standstill, forced into a busy bottleneck between rows of colourful buildings. It takes a long time to cross that border, and not due to a lack of workers or disorganised chaos, but rather because so many people are eager and excited to explore Malaysia's possibilities.
Our first stop was Georgetown, a world heritage site where once the British ruled. It's small enough to walk around in a day, but the absence of sidewalks, cluttered roadsides and a dangerous open drainage system running the length of every street, make it an adventurous challenge to peruse on foot. The buildings are artistically worn and faded in colour from their once blindingly bright hues of turquoise, fuscia or lemon. Occasional towering palm trees frame larger historic buildings that were once a brilliant white, and evocative street art is modestly located, yet abundant. Rows of tumbledown terraced buildings open out onto covered concrete walkways, framed by cracked pillars and overgrown plant pots, sometimes with chipped terracotta mosaics underfoot.
During December in Penang, when it rains, it floods. The humidity is thick and thunder is frequent. An hour or two of torrential drenching per day is to be expected. And so the city considered it wise to excavate alarmingly deep pits, exceeding 12inches wide, between elevated walkways and the road (without so much as a 'mind the gap') - somewhere for the water to go.
Trouble is, the belting volume of precipitation in such short periods of time is so vast, that these amateur drains rapidly overflow and quickly become invisible, hidden underneath what becomes a temporary river. Locals trudge on, going about their business as usual, and occasionally barefoot, through the shin-deep-and-rising, dirty water. For those unfamiliar with these trenches, it's a precarious situation to be in, particularly as the sidewalks are often impassable, and stepping down on to the street is the only option. It's baffling how tourists aren't breaking legs daily, or simply disappearing into the abyss...
When going to a new country for the first time, it's prudent to do a little research - however minor. Know where you're going, and understand it will differ from your home in all sorts of wonderful, ridiculous and annoying ways. It doesn't help anybody when travel bloggers like that idiot "Nomadic Matt" push the notion that "we're all the same"...
We're not all the same, so don't go to a restaurant in Malaysia (or anywhere in Asia for that matter - except for perhaps Singapore) and anticipate the level of service you'd hope to get in the UK - like simultaneous deliverance of meals to groups dining together, for instance. This will never happen in Asia. Yet a loud, toffee nosed British girl around age 30, who I'm ashamed to say was from the south of England, felt a duty to go all Gordon Ramsay on the staff of an average Malay eatery. Her burger arrived a full six minutes after the others at her table had been served. Outrage. Speaking to the waiter as if she were a Queen, she angrily told him it was unacceptable and refused to pay. "No, I don't want it now, it's too late. I'm not paying for that." Never mind that it only cost $4 - nothing to her and half a days work to them, and that they would have to pay out of their own pockets for the wasted food.
As it happens that place was amazing. Food was delicious. She wouldn't find better service elsewhere in Penang, that's for sure. Where did she think she was? And if that's her reaction to a short delay in receiving food, however would she react to the public loos and taxi scammers? Hopefully her ignorance will plant her nicely at the bottom of one of those treacherous revines.
There's no such thing as metered taxis in Malaysia. (Unless you've downloaded the MyTeksi app.) Anywhere there might be a tourist, 'freelance drivers' are operating illegally. They still use a car from a legitimate cab company, (all of which do have perfectly working meters) but they're not happy about the rates so they make up their own. In bigger cities like KL, this could mean they ask you for as much as $80 for a 10 minute ride. Of course, they expect bargaining, but never settle on a reasonable price. You see, it's so much easier for them to hang around and do nothing all day but wait for the one customer who is desperate enough to overpay by about 2000%. (They're usually the wealthier holiday makers, carrying multiple shopping bags and no umbrella.) Fair enough, you might say. If they can afford it, why not pay that lazy, bitter cabbie what he wants? Because it fuels an attitude that is severely detrimental to the long term development of their economy. (And they really need that development.) That driver will take your money and won't work at all for the next three days, and he'll tell his friends, family, children that the easiest way to make quick money is to scam foreigners.
The MyTeksi app is one of many small endeavours by the government to tackle corruption. There are a minority of honest, hard working taxi drivers who always use the meter. They work long hours, all day, to make the same amount of money as a corrupt cabbie might make with one or two customers. All drivers are encouraged to sign up. They can be rated on the app, and rewards/bonuses are issued accordingly. It helps to track the immoral law breakers and identify the good ones. Outside Pavillion Mall in central KL, the line up of scammers leaning on their red cars and having a chat, is endless. The reality is, most of them won't make a catch that day. They'd be better off to actually switch their meters on, sign up to the app, and do the work properly.
I think the media is in part to blame for their anger. These days almost everyone has access to the internet, even if they can barely afford food. They have televisions, mobile phones. All the kids are playing virtual games created by Supercell, with team mates from across the globe. They know a bit about what it's like in other countries - better countries. They see all the things they don't have, can't have, will never have, and it makes them angry and upset. They don't fully understand it (who does?) but they know it's not fair...
In England, the generation of my grandparents encountered quite a struggle. I believe they ultimately prospered because their efforts were not to gain immediate and short term benefits for themselves, but to build a better future for their children, grandchildren and generations to come. They adopted a long term vision with optimism and a positive attitude. They grafted hard and it wasn't easy. We know that because the elderly all over the UK (especially the northerners) LOVE to tell us how tough it was in 'their day' all the time. I realise that children of the baby boomers may not agree their 'long-term vision' worked, as now youngsters find it impossible to get on the housing ladder and never have money left at the end of the month... but the overall truth is that the UK did grow and prosper since the war - and it's a much better place now than it was then.
Of course, in Asia, the issue is often that tourism is a major and sometimes only means of income for some areas. These are the places the people are most unhappy and likely to scam and cause trouble. They see foreigners enjoying THEIR land, eating food they could never afford, in restaurants they've never set foot in, staying in luxurious hotels while they barely make ends meet in their crumbling old home. Of course they hate us. I probably would if I were them.
Despite the corruption, which sadly has been a constant theme throughout my Asia blogging, Malaysia is most definitely an inviting place to visit. It has charm and character. Most people are welcoming, and proud of their home. English is widely spoken, which makes travelling there easier. The locals even converse with one another in English - the international language, because they often hail from backgrounds that are worlds apart, and their mother tongue could be Malay, or any number of Chinese, Indian or native dialects.
There is a small beach in Georgetown, where we sat for one full day with buckets of beer and watched the occasional Komodo Dragon stroll casually by. The bay looks out at mainland Malaysia, perhaps six miles away across the sea, akin to looking at Portsmouth from Ryde, Isle of Wight, but with more mysterious mountains shaping the distant view. We thought of friends and family back home, getting ready for the Christmas holidays, wrapped up in winter jackets, listening to jingly tunes, getting cozy, eating tasty Crimbo treats and spending time with oodles of loved ones. We were sweaty, and we missed them.
Fortunately, there is a lingering hint of familiar Britishness about Georgetown, mainly in the architecture of its historical structures and neatly mowed green parks. We visited Fort Cornwallis, built in the 1700's by the British East India Company. Although it's the largest fort in Malaysia, it's never engaged in battle. It is readily equipped with plenty of ancient cannons though. Seri Rembai Cannon has a complex history of being presented, gifted, re-homed, stolen and seized. This well travelled, 412 years old, hefty piece of brass weaponry finally settled at Fort Cornwallis in 1871 - since which time it's never fired, yet perhaps ironically, local legend says that if a woman places flowers in it's barrel, she will have children. Not wanting to kick ourselves later for missing this opportunity, Guillaume picked a nearby shrub which I placed inside the cannon. So... Now do we just wait, or....?
My grandparents have visited Penang and were excited to know Guillaume and I were there. (They're 84 and 85, but know how to use Skype.) The reason for their visit which was part of an organised tour, had been one of remembrance for my Grandad - who had served in Malaya with the Coldstream Guards between 1948 and 1950. The efforts of his regiment were primarily to separate the indigenous people living in the Cameron Highlands, from the terrorists, during a violent guerrilla war. The Guards would set up secure camps for those living in the jungle. It was undoubtedly heartbreaking to force them from their homes, but it kept them alive and away from the Malayan National Liberation Army - a communist force made up mainly of ethnic Chinese.
The roads in the highlands are narrow and winding with impossible gradients and terrifyingly steep drop offs. That's today. 65 years ago they would have been narrower, bumpier and terribly unsafe. The Coldstream Guards drove convoys up those mountains, carrying supplies to the locals, all the while under a continuous threat from the MNLA guerrillas, who they experienced face to face combat with and there was much brutality. Grandad lost friends in that mission.
Today, the camp set up by my Grandads battalion has evolved into a prospering little town, called Coldstream. It's near Tapah, in the foothills of the Highlands. There's a school, a hospital, and many small businesses. It's a peaceful place filled with happy families.
The Cameron Highlands are known as Malaysia's green carpet. There's no denying it's a magnificent landscape of thick, flourishing jungle, endless tea plantations, and strawberry fields. It's such strong, bright colours - every shade of brilliant green, almost like you'd see in a cartoon, it appears unnatural. Unique, and awesome. We only got to glimpse the beauty of the Highlands for an hour or so, as our bus from Penang climbed slowly into it's depths at dusk. Thereafter, throughout our three day stay in Brinchang (the town at the top) it rained, hard.
Thick grey clouds hung low over the Highlands. Tops of buildings were hidden by a murky fog. It was always dark. The altitude gave some relief from the relentless heat and humidity we still hadn't grown accustomed to after six months in Asia. Water flowed down the dirty roads, and it was constant.
Determined to see the panoramas my Grandad always said were so breathtaking, we took a tour into the jungle, and trekked to the highest point in the Highlands. We couldn't see a bloody thing. Nothing but mist, so dense it appeared impenetrable. We gazed out and down at a wall of white. We only had one brolly between us. We'd bought it at a souvenir store - it was red with strawberries printed on it. We huddled underneath but soaked nevertheless. The ground was sodden and sinky, and our feet were caked in slippery mud. The silence was eerie, nothing to be heard but the rain. It seemed even the wildlife had fled.
At that time, eastern Malaysia was flooding severely. Experiencing it's worst monsoon for decades, 200,000 people were displaced and 21 killed. The immoral yearning to make quick money under any circumstances is not limited to scamming tourists, as in the aftermath of these floods, vendors hiked up the prices of essential items, such as bottled water and candles. Many people were thus forced to venture further afield to get supplies. Boat owners also charged people to travel on the flood waters, instead of just helping them. Despite this, the government claimed it brought people together in a time of crisis. The flooding began in mid December, and didn't cease until mid January.
Brinchang and Tana Rata are about 5km apart and sit close to the peaks of the Cameron Highlands. Both are small towns that can be walked around in about 10 minutes. Mostly hotels and cook-your-own eateries line the main road, and a few alleys lead to clustered residential areas backing onto forested slopes. In Brinchang, it seems that the Indian people live and work on one side of the road and the Chinese on the other. Yet everyone appears to know everyone, and get on well, so perhaps it's not intended to be divisive.
I love tea. The best tea I've ever tasted was in the Cameron Highlands, and was mixed with lychees. The Malay people are becoming experts in tea making. They even have clubs where preparation and brewing techniques are discussed, shared and performed. In the Highlands, they mostly produce black tea. They haven't been doing it as long as the Vietnamese, and neither do they produce as much, but the quality of Malay tea is evident.
I had wanted to visit the Cameron Highlands since I was young. Probably because my Grandad talked about it. We were unlucky with the weather and it meant the experience was nothing how I'd hoped or imagined. I know it's a stunning place, but we barely got to see it.
We took a coach from Tana Rata to Kuala Lumpur. It took about five hours and cost around $30 each. As we headed back westward, the weather improved and the sun came out.
It was Christmas while we were in Kuala Lumpur. There aren't many Christians in Malaysia, but it's not so much a religious celebration as it is a commercial opportunity. (A bit like how it is in most countries these days.) Big malls put on elaborate displays of giant imitation conifers, decorated with red and gold reflective baubles, at the centre of recreated Lapland scenes where motorized smiley children throw fake snowballs, and they even have men in Santa costumes asking children what they want. They play familiar Christmas songs, and masses of cheery shoppers appear to be feeling festive.
KL was certainly the most luxurious place we'd been for a while. It felt futuristic. The Petronas towers are an iconic and extraordinary feat of engineering that can be seen from almost anywhere in the city. They sparkle invitingly. Its stainless steel and glass exterior was designed to form Islamic patterns. Much of the interior artwork is consistent with this. It's believed to be symbolic of Malaysia's culture, and advancement on the world stage. There's no doubt it's impressive, and very picturesque.
There are so many shopping malls in Kuala Lumpur. They're all huge, and they're close together too. And connected by a system of enclosed walkways a few storeys high. People obviously have money there. Lots of it. Berjaya Times Square mall is 48 storeys high and home to a seven storey indoor roller coaster, three 3D cinemas, over 1,000 retail outlets, 1,200 luxury serviced suites and 65 restaurants. Apparently, it's the 8th largest building in the world. It's where the people of KL go to spend, spend, spend.
Our Christmas treat was to buy outfits for New Years Eve. Having lived in the same shorts, t-shirts and flip flops for so long, this was a very exciting endeavour, which I have to say I think we excelled at. I got a black dress and turquoise high heels. Guillaume got beige jeans, a dark shirt and a party-time stripy orange tie. No one would know we're dirty backpackers, as we see-in 2015.
On Christmas Day, after devouring a tasty dinner at a Mediterranean bar by Pavillion Mall, we strolled and found the Heli bar. It's pretty central, just outside the popular leisure area of Bukit Bintang. Despite it's proximity to bustling tourist spots, it's considered Kuala Lumpurs best kept secret. Atop a 34 storey residential building/office block, are three hidden storeys of a funky bar. The first floor is indoors, and decorated in black and white with splashes of red, with leather couches, floor to ceiling windows lined with trendy bar stalls, walls of mirrors and an aeronautical theme throughout - with model planes suspended overhead and vintage paintings of helicopters and their goggle donning pilots. Bar staff are all in uniforms.
Climb up two levels of stairs followed by what's basically a permanently affixed and potentially disastrous ladder, and you'll arrive at the active heli pad. It's frequented by choppers during the day, but by night transforms into a basic bar. A red ribbon is all that stands between you and the edge. Plastic seats and chairs are dotted around, and attentive waiters bring you booze. You get an uninterrupted 360 degree view of the city from 37 storeys high. We enjoyed a couple of cocktails, taking in the scenery, and inquired about their New Years Eve Party. They had two tickets left. We bought them. We spent the rest of Christmas Day in our room at the U-Pac hotel, Skyping family, eating sickening amounts of chocolate and watching silly cat videos on YouTube.
We got to do a trial run of our new outfits on my birthday, December 28th. We went to Skybar and Marinis on 57, both of which are as lofty as their names suggest and offered spectacular views of the city and the towers. Skybar is like something out of a James Bond movie, with a full length pool in the middle of the bar, dimly lit and surrounded by red and white window seats. A glass wall three floors tall encases the venue, which served surprisingly cheap cocktails. Marinis is 57 storeys high, in the third pillar of the Petronas Towers complex. (The forgotten triplet.) The proximity to the blindingly bright twin towers is what elevates this stylish bar to the top of everyone's 'must-get-drunk-in' list. And we did.
Our tickets for NYE at Heli Lounge Bar included an assigned table, food, and a bottle of whiskey. We started pre-drinking at our hotel while getting ready, then stopped for a couple in Bukit Bintang... We were a bit wobbly before we got there. The heli pad was packed with smartly dressed locals and tourists alike, seated on unusual stalls, pews and benches, at a mish mash of old tables. We had a step ladder each to sit on. Others had deck chairs. Some 'tables' were drinks trolleys. It's almost certainly because they didn't have enough furniture for all their guests, but it could be mistaken as 'hip' and an artistically innovative way to allot everyone a spot.
A DJ played an assortment of bad techno throughout the evening. Inebriated patrons struggled to figure out appropriate dance moves, but were enthusiastically determined and relentlessly energetic. Fluorescent lasers blinked and waved from the circumference of the heli pad, beaming upwards into the night sky. It was a rave.
The countdown to midnight blared from speakers, and before we all got to three, fireworks began going off around the city. The main display was immediately in front of the Petronas Towers which stood mightily, at a perfect distance from us on the Heli pad. More than half our Johnny Walker Black Label had gone. Endorphin levels were high. Euphoric feelings shivered through me as I realised this will be a New Years Eve forever treasured in my memory. The New Year that we saw-in on our eleven and a half months of Earth exploration. 2014 had been unbelievably spectacular, and I felt excited and optimistic about 2015 and all the new things it might bring. With appreciation, disbelief, wonderment and awe, is how our 2014 concluded.
One of the first things I did in 2015, at approximately 3.20am, was to give an old lady working in a 24 hour Seven Eleven, $80. After stumbling into the convenience store and grabbing a ton of hangover essentials for the next day (bottled water, carb-filled snacks, extra toilet paper) we paid and began to leave, when I said to Guillaume, "I want to give her some money." Unaware of exactly how much I had in my hand, I walked back to the counter and gave her the cash. "This is for you. Happy New Year." She was elated, and gave me the wrinkliest smile I've ever seen. We're on a tight budget, and don't really have $80 to throw any-old-where, but we'd just had the time of our lives, spent $200 on our tickets and been able to afford outfits for the occasion. She was well beyond retirement age, and working in the middle of the night for pennies-per-hour. We both concluded it was a nice thing to do.
Our hangover lasted a few days, but we're proud to announce that we achieved Dry January (apart from those couple of hours at the beginning of it), and not only did we succeed at making it through the month without so much as a sniff of alcohol, but we extended the challenge to mid-February, having our first (second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh...) drink in six weeks on Valentines Day. (More about that in the Bali blog.)
From Kuala Lumpur we travelled to Singapore. A whole other country at the bottom of the Malay peninsular. It's only about a four hour drive. Wow! Singapore is so clean. Wide, uncluttered pavements that appear recently washed. Smooth, maintained roads. Organised, calm people. Quiet. Honesty. Normality. So refreshing. It felt like being in a city in Europe, but with more leading edge, state-of-the-art architecture. Incredible, beautiful high rises. The Marina Bay Sands hotel is, without doubt, the coolest building I've ever seen. Three rectangular blocks, 55 storeys high, holding aloft a horizontal boat shaped structure. They say it cost $5.5 billion to build in 2010, and is the second most expensive building in the world. (The most expensive is the Abraj Al Bait in Mecca, Saudi Arabia.) The Marina Bay Sands is un comprehensively massive and even has a 150 metre infinity pool on top!
We took an open top bus tour of Singapore. It felt like a little escape from Asia, and it's hard to believe the contrast. Although a South East Asian culture is still evident, surprisingly English is the official first language, as like Malaysia, Singapore is home to people from many different ethnicities. In fact, 25% of Singapores work force are foreigners. The old town was reminiscent of Georgetown, Penang, but with an impeccable upkeep. Historic buildings have been lovingly restored, re-painted in their original bright colours. Not left to crumble and fade as they are in Penang. Even street food eateries are organised into covered squares with sturdy wooden tables and have dedicated cleaners working around the clock.
We were only in Singapore for two days. We'd have loved to stay longer, but it is insanely expensive. We toured as much as we could, and rushed through the city centre, seeking shelter as an intensely powerful storm raged overhead. Lightning struck mere metres from the entrance to an underground station, causing everyone to leap simultaneously, and yelp in fear.
------
Tragically, on December 28th, an Air Asia flight from Surabaya to Singapore crashed into the Java sea, having stalled from climbing too fast through a category six thunder storm. The thought of this still haunts me and has ignited a fear of flying, which is not ideal when we're so far from home. We had a flight scheduled on 7th January with Air Asia, also over the Java Sea, from Singapore to Denpasar. Almost the identical route in reverse.
When we checked in at Singapore airport, the sky was black and angrily grumbling. Our flight was delayed. Rain poured. The plane at our gate did not have the usual red and white Air Asia logo, but instead was plastered with a large advertisement and had the words "TURN BACK" written in black, enormous capital letters across the plane. The word "CRIME" followed, but was oddly written in a pale yellow and impossible to see. I very much wanted to turn back.
Very few people boarded the aircraft. Perhaps it wasn't a busy route, (Singapore to Bali? Of course it's a busy route). When we arrived at the airport we saw queues of people at the Air Asia customer service desk. Perhaps they were cancelling their flights and trusting another airline to take them safely to their destination? Whatever it was, our plane was about 20% full. (Or 80% empty if you're a pessimist.) We took off among flashing lightning bolts and it was probably the most turbulent flight I've ever been on, seat belts worn for the duration of the two and a half hour flight. I've never been so relieved to land as I was when we arrived in Bali...(I repeatedly jumped up and down, dancing in circles and singing nonsensical improv jingles for a good 20 minutes. True.)