Welcome to Kuala London

Here I am in Malaysia, truly Asia (that is the very catchy jungle which some genius from Malaysia Tourism office came up with). Let me tell you, Malaysia, truly Asia bears an uncanny resemblance to London, or at least Kuala Lumpur does. It's all concrete apartment blocks, big, shiny skyscrapers, busy roads and Topshop. Sadly, I still can't afford the latter-sob sob sob. The big difference, language aside, is that the people here are so darn tootin nice! Sorry to anyone who lives in London, but you are just not the friendliest of people to outsiders. Kuala Lumps, on the other hand, could not be nicer if it tried. We had been in the central station all of 5 minutes when a very pleasant young gent escorted us all the way to the monorail station and then paid for our tickets. His reasoning was that it was the prophet's birthday. Our reasoning was that he was simply a delightful person. Could it get any better than that? Normally not. But WAIT: there we were, in a very local Indian restaurant looking completely baffled by absolutely everything, when an old chap waved us over to sit with him. So we did. He then told us a lot of things which I'm sure were very interesting, but I could barely hear him, so I was just nodding and smiling which seemed more than sufficient. He trotted off after helping us order our very tasty lunch-served on a banana leaf-but as he left, he called over to us and told us lunch was on the house,simply because we were brave tourists who ventured into the gastronomic unknown. We suspect he paid for us, but whatever happened, it made us so very happy for the rest of the day! I've been inspired to pay for random people's lunches now when I go home, although I suspect that people in Braunschweig might just think I'm weird. Maybe I should be stealth about it. It would be a great excuse to wear a cape, like some kind of lunch-themed superhero.
Last night, after a day of walking all over the city, we indulged in a food tour (what else?). We took a train out to some random spot way out of the centre and waited for our guy, Charles, to come and pick us up. Well, we waited and waited, wondered, and waited, and sure enough, 15 minutes too late, a young guy screeched up in his car, sticking his tongue out at us. It transpired that Charles was a complete lad and genuinely nice guy. We drove around the suburbs of KL (well, he drove. Sarah and I were busy looking at the terrifyingly small gaps between us and neighbouring cars and ditches), stopping off in numerous places to sample local delicacies. My my my, Malaysia is a dreaaaammm when it comes to food: it has incredible Chinese and Indian food, as well as wonderful traditional Malay dishes. Every time we stopped, I had a little weep because everything was just so flippin delicious. Except durian, the so-called king of the fruits. It does NOT deserve that accolade because it is like eating death. Slimy, gooey, smelly death. Sarah likened it to a mushed up roast dinner, in both taste and texture. So to durian, I say a big fat NO. Other than that, it was a very amusing evening. Mainly because we were being driven around KL by a 3rd generation Indian wide boy.
Today was quite a change of scenery: we experienced the Thaipusam festival at the Batu Caves. If you haven't heard of it, look it up. It was bonkers. It's a Hindu festival celebrating the God of war (I think-we read about it this morning but my brain is quite tired right now) and consists mainly of something like 500,000 people hitting up the Batu Caves to watch men carrying GIGANTIC and elaborate, hmmmm, decorations, I guess you could say, 272 steps up into the caves. A lot of them have hooks attaching their own skin to the decorations, or they have things like lemons, limes, roses or leaves hooked onto their backs and metal rods through their lips. It sounds crazy-partly because it is- but I'm sure there is a great significance behind it all. It was absolutely amazing. We also witnessed a wild-haired man walking over swords that were held aloft, sort of like a floating and moving footpath. A sharp footpath made of SWORDS. The whole day was spent with my great gob open in amazement and disbelief. A mind boggling experience.
The day ended with a very cosy train trip back to the city centre, during which, of course, we made another lovely Malaysian friend - a 47 year old man who has been married 14 years and has 2 children, aged 2 and 6, and can no longer work because he was in a motorbike accident with an Indian woman, which messed up his hand. His main question to me was 'Why don't you use shampoo?'. I was naturally overwhelmed by the flattery.
Tomorrow we head North to the Cameron Highlands where we plan to dither around some tea plantations and revel in the cooler climes. Bye for now!