Peace and love in Kuala Lumpur

KL from the Batu Caves

It's 3am and I'm in our small room with Kate and Ang.

No, we're not in jail. We've only just hit our room after a long day. We've spent the last couple of hours chilling in the lounge of our hostel here in KL, the Oasis (though this really is overstating it a little, like calling it The Hilton or something). KL is a crazy, eclectic architectural mix up. The streets are teeming with life - and not just human: rats, cockroaches and for some reason cats with no tails all abound here.

We had a late first night spent on the roof of our hostel listening to the young Malay dude who works here strumming his guitar, while we drank beers and catch up, and catch up and catch up.

After a hot night of crazy dreams, genuinely far too weird to recount here, but much to the amusement of the girls, I get up just in time to share coffee with Kate and Ang, genuine hot filter coffee, the benefit of which cannot be underestimated. I head for a shower. James was right about Malarone - my anti-malarial drugs - and the vivid dreams they bring as a side effect. The dreams I had last night were like nothing I've experienced before and not suitable to be reproduced here. In fact, not fit enought to be published anywhere online that you don't need a subscription to read..... and maybe not even there without a warning.

The shower is interesting - Sal, you're going to love this - because the shower literally hangs from the wall, less than a metre from the loo. The water runs straight over you onto the floor and down a dark round hole in the ground next to the toilet itself. The water is lukewarm at its hottest and usually quite cold, but apart from the first sudden gasp of shock, it’s actually quite pleasant......

The thing is that it’s so damn hot here. Like really hot. Not like the scorching heat of Canada, which burns you wherever you are without aircon, but a humid, deep down hot heat, like you might find somewhere near the appendix of a dragon. It’s truly awesome. I thought it would bother me a lot more than it does, but you actually kind of get used to it quickly. Actually you have to, or you would be damned.

It's official - meditation's what you need (if you want to be a record breaker)

We got up late, heading into Little India for a chickpea curry that, despite being ridiculously good, none of us can finish. We are the only westerners and this seems to be the case wherever we eat. The cafes used by locals are all out in the open, protected by huge canopies that stretch over them, or tables set underneath alcoves along the streetside. Westerners seem to prefer heading for local restaurants, perhaps just for the aircon, or to western imported eateries, such as McDonalds, Burger King, KFC, or even Pizza Hut. Suckers. The food, even in the restaurants that serve local food, are priced something like at three times the prices of the local cafes, and you don’t get to enjoy watching your food being prepared and cooked. I’ve never seen chipatis or rotis cooked before, and there’s a definite thrill to seeing your food being made before you eat it.

We also seem to be a novelty here, although everyone speaks at least basic English and we have no problems being understood as we point at things that look appetising and say, “Vegetarian? No meat?” Sometimes the locals seem to find this funny, but less so in Little India, where plenty of cafes advertise vegetarian food, sometimes exclusively. The owners and staff at the cafes we’ve been to so far have been really friendly. Over lunch, we talk about our plans for the day. We're not staying in KL long and plan to leave for Sumatra soon.

Urban KL is a real experience, even just for the sights and smells alone. Each step brings something completely new and not always for the good. The smell of rotting food from the bins attracts cockroaches and rats, but is enough sometimes to turn the stomachs of most humans. Roadside stands selling western style handbags, clothes and gadgets, as well as so much food, abound. We see plenty of fruit sellers, who spend their days hacking watermelons, lychees and melons to pieces and placing them into small plastic bags, only to hack them into pieces again and place a slim, sharpened wooden stick inside. These sell for a ringitt or so each, and look absolutely delicious. Away from the stands and lining each street are more shops than you can shake a big credit card at, selling a vast array of goods. The compellingly named Kiddie Delights that sits across the street from our lodgings hasn’t been open since we arrived and although I’m intrigued, I’m quite relieved. We aren’t here for the shopping though and unless there’s something specific we need, we’ve not ventured in – although the aircon at the 7/11 renders it incredibly tempting whether you need anything from there or not.

Sometimes, the men are a little too welcoming and we are stared at continuously on the streets, buses, cafes and metros. We’ve been asked for our phone numbers and email addresses, requests which we politely decline. When pressed I insisted that I really couldn’t give a man my details because my mother wouldn’t like it. This seemed to bemuse him so much he gave up. In the main though, it seems quite understandable that we are stared at as we are often the only white women (and unaccompanied white women) in the places we visit and no one has been hostile or too effusive in their attentions.

Lord Marugan guarding the Caves

After lunch and several cigarettes, we decide to head for the Batu Caves, home to an
Indian shrine that is approached up over 200 steps. These are a sod in the heat, but not unmanageable, and made much easier by the attendance of many monkeys on the way, who scamper in and out of the crowds looking for food. Although the guides say that the Caves are often packed with tourists, our decision to go later in the day makes it much easier. We catch a bus from Little India for an hour’s journey out to the caves.

Monkey say - Give me your effing banana or I kill you.....

The caves are amazing. Water pours from the stone roof, as bats and pigeons wheel overhead, while the floor is home to several chickens and many cats, who roam around in harmony. It’s not too busy and we wander around, taking respite in the cool, but still humid shade of the caves. At the back of the cave is a shrine dedicated to a Hindu goddess, where Hindus queue up to be blessed. Music is played and echoes around the caves to the accompaniment of a beating drum. I love it here. The three of us wander around separately, taking photos, sitting drinking water and taking in one of the most novel experiences I’ve encountered for a while.

We amble from the caves back to ground level and grab a cool can of orange from Gheeta’s Cafe. Although it is just closing, I am an instant fan of Gheeta’s Cafe because they have blatantly ripped off the Starbucks logo and replaced the word Starbucks with the cafe’s name. If they were selling mugs I would have bought one.

Paravati and the 6 babies that would become Maruga

We’re thinking the shrine is all and that we should head back as it is coming up for 6.30pm or so. Just as we are leaving, we see a sign for the Caves Villa and wander towards it, half-curious. This turns out to be the entrance to another set of caves, as long as you are willing to pay the 15RM for entrance. As this is officially peanuts, I shout us the fee, not that it matters, as the man staffing the booth is so delighted at our decision that he spontaneously decides to charge us only half price. Once through the entrance there is a large pond filled to the brim with koi carp, there are hundreds of them, who rush straight to us looking for food.

Past the pond is the entrance to another cave, a tribute to an Indian poet, featuring excerpts from his verse and statues that represent each verse. It’s very beautiful, and some of the translations are somewhat loose, making parts far more amusing than I think the poet intended. Past the poetry is a reptile house, which makes us a little sad, as it is stuffed with snakes, alligators, lizards, and spiders. Many of the snakes are from the jungles of South East Asia, which we are keen on visiting, so we don’t dwell on them. Heading out of the cave, we notice yet another cave and head for it.

This cave is filled with scenes and statues of Hindu gods and goddesses and we dwell on these for quite some time, only leaving when the place is due to close. We all take plenty of pictures before leaving, some of which are here and the rest I'll bore you with in a slide show on my return. Next to this last cave is a huge statue of Hanuman, the closest follower of Krishna and his most loyal friend. Underneath is another temple shrine, where people are gathering for blessings and some kind of ceremony. Their outfits are beautiful and I stare unashamedly at their backs, secure in the knowledge that they are far too involved to worry about us.

The journey home is not as simple as our inward journey, we get a bus half the way and then take the metro, but it means we can stop off for some roti on the way back to the hostel, before chilling out in the lounge with a gazillion of other people from all over the world looking for adventure, experience, knowledge, themselves and probably something more elusive than all of the above.


Love to everyone, I think of lots of you everywhere we go, and keep on track with me here x