Blog 4: 17th April 2014. Caves, palaces and more makan

Makan makan!

The next day in KL started with a traditional Malay breakfast in the spacious hotel dining room on the marble-lined ground floor, to the right hand side as we emerged from the marble lifts, our friendly and impeccably dressed hotel porter greeting us with good morning and us back with "selamat pagi!". He wore all black, and indeed long-sleeved shirt, a traditional Muslim attire with gold decor both sides of the button strip at the front, buttons covered by black cotton. His collar was a plain band, more like a priest's than a waiter's. On his head he wore a traditional Malay cap, a smart circular item with subtle gold decoration, but with straight sides gently tapering up to a flat top.

Walking across the spacious lobby past the black marble check-in and concierge desks on the right we approached the two girls serving the breakfast check-in counter, signing two people (dua) for room 1103 (bilik satu satu kosong tiga). We were ushered to our place to the left of the restaurant, next to its towering glass walls, overlooking a pretend waterfall flowing over concrete-formed authentic-looking rocks, about 3m tall and 4m wide. The waterfall flowed into a huge water feature, filled with huge fish of all varieties, like goldfish and catfish. I remarked that the goldfish must be huge because of the warm weather - Emma remarked that this was probably only part of the picture! An Indian-Malay waiter swiftly arrived at our table, dressed in a smart olive green shirt and a black tie, but without a cap, and took our tea order. We then rose to collect some fruit juices from the open counter, and a plate each of a choice of varieties of melons and fresh fruits from the huge selection counter, a well-lit marble affair stretching about 4m in length. We ate this fresh mixture before going for the main breakfast course!

The fish outside the restaurant window, large not just because of the heat (yeah right!)!

The restaurant served a huge range of foods from many cultures, the food served either side of an aisle just in front of the kitchens which lined the wall just to the right of the restaurant entrance, and formed of a marble island to the left. To the right nearest the door it was serving traditional English foods like hash browns, eggs, bacon, sausages. To the left were more selections of fruit, and a cereal and milk selection, as well as a selection for the Chinese including noodles and noodle dishes. Further down the aisle were more traditional Malay dishes, to the right a chef stood making roti canai, the best description of which is "flying pancakes" - a ball of flour and oil about 3" in diameter is repeatedly squashed against an oily surface by the cook, until it is about the size of a small pizza, at which point he picks it up from one edge and flings it around in a circular fashion, eventually stretching the dough until it is a couple of feet in diameter and about a millimetre thick! They then fold it multiple times, trapping air between each layer, into a square shape about 8" wide. This is then placed on a hot oil surface and fried until crispy and golden brown. You can ask to have an egg roti canai, where egg is spread across the roti's surface just before it is folded. We chose a plain roti each, and took this on a plate to a circular counter at the end of the aisle (also black marble!) upon which stood about ten silver domes covering a variety of Malay dishes, from types of rice to chicken, lamb, vegetable and other varieties of what would best be described as curries. Roti is eaten with these dishes and the sauces from them, so we chose a good selection of each and I sprinkled a bit of sugar over mine, before we returned to the table. To our amusement when we returned, our table had been completely cleared of the remaining fruit juices and tea, complete with teapot - we must have spent too long away! A very flummoxed waiter arrived quite quickly, incredibly apologetically, and we laughed with him but still ordered another pot of tea!

First delicious breakfast complete, we headed back upstairs and, flicking briefly through the morning's New Straits Times newspaper that we'd found hanging on our doorknob in a light cotton black bag marked "newspaper", we readied ourselves to go and explore the gardens to the south of the KLCC twin towers, before Nabila arrived. We took the same path to get to KLCC as we had done before, that is, across the pavement before the hotel and out to the left, seeing the same two homeless women still perched on a low wall outside the building site just down the road. We hugged the building site by hanging a left down a side road just before the green and silver Petronas headquarters, heading directly to the park and fountains of the KLCC complex. The first thing of the well-designed landscape which caught our eye was the tremendous water features, scores of coordinated waterspouts firing vertically and in some cases, at angles, from a sweeping pond feature overlooked by the many levels of the Suria KLCC shopping centre, its two straight magnolia wings hugging the concreted area around the fountain, the glass of the central restaurant area forming the central piece between the two wings. A very wide set of low concrete stairs led to a series of glass doors announcing the entrance to the air-conditioned shopping centre. Emma and I took a perch on a couple of low steps surrounding the pond, to admire the fountains and soak up a bit of the nearly mid-day sun. The breeze off the water was cooling, but we were still sweating buckets under the fierce intensity of the light from our nearest and dearest star. We noted two classes of uniformed children trundling through the fountains, from the direction of the shopping centre, probably upper primary school-aged and all wearing blue polo shirts emblazoned with 'Selangor' - the Malaysian state surrounding the Federal Territory of KL to the south, west and north.

After a couple of minutes we got up from our oven, having watched the many combinations of the fountains displaying their programming in front of us; we headed to the left, toward a large concrete stepped terrace sitting behind a flat area, surely for use by shows or displays that might be put on there from time to time. We climbed them, entering a sparsely forested and grassy area, penetrated by footpaths. The higher ground allowed us a better view over the fountains and their ponds toward the main building complex; to the other side of the high ground a large (and indeed, unexpected) swimming pool shone azure blue in the bright sunlight, dotted with a few swimmers and paddlers, and even boasted a couple of water slides. A third pond lay to the right of the swimming pool, and was connected to it via a water outflow complete with mini-weir, and the main body of water with the fountains by a few water channels, over which a silver-railinged arched concrete pedestrian bridge passed, which we now headed for. We battled our way through a crowd of Chinese tourists taking selfies and family photographs from the photogenic location atop the arched bridge, complete with their mini umbrellas to shade them from the harsh sunlight, and after taking a couple of selfies and panoramic shots ourselves, headed on from the bridge and turned to the left, away from the buildings and hubbub into a quieter area of the KLCC park, and found to our surprise a strip of red and green athletics track, labelled as being 1 mile long, terminating with some superfluous anti-bicycle barriers, in that the track was not fenced-off from the concrete pathway running next to it! We walked the whole circumference of the track, stopping to admire the flower gardens outside various skyscrapers such as that of the Exxon corporation, before returning to where we'd started.

We headed back to the hotel lobby via our 11th floor room to freshen up, to await the arrival of Nabila, who was going to take us around some more hotspots of KL again, poor thing, starting first with the famous Hindu site of worship, the Batu Caves, sharing the same name as a nearby river, Sungai Batu (batu meaning rock). This highly important Hindu shrine was dedicated to Lord Murugan, and served as a focal point in Malaysia for the festival of Thaipusam early each year. Nabila arrived in her grey 4x4 under the imposing awning at the front of the hotel, and we set off past the twin towers and out toward the caves. Thankfully the traffic was lighter today! She had been up until ungodly hours doing work, for an upcoming promotional event we would attend a couple of days later held at an education centre. Nabila took us up Jalan Ampang again, and headed out of the city to the north, over the muddy red River Klang which flowed through the city centre from the west, a totally managed river channel, basically left unceremoniously to flow by itself through giant concrete ditches, covered in graffiti and silt. Apparently many of the city's homeless took residence in these concrete ditches, and were severely affected by the annual floodwaters of monsoon season. While the residents of KL take pride in their city, apparently they have no such interest in its water features unlike the likes of the Seine, the Rhine or indeed the Thames. 

Spelunking

At some point of the journey on the dual carriageway to the caves, we found ourselves paralleling a new development which was to be KL's next major transit system, an extension of the KTM/LRT train network. I could tell we were nearing the caves as the terrain was becoming increasingly hilly, the buildings reducing in density and trees beginning to emerge in the open spaces. Then around a corner to the left of us, amidst a sudden appearance of brightly painted ornate religious symbolism of monkeys, golden arches and snakes very typical of Hinduism, we saw a tree-covered outcrop of rocks, easily 200m tall and stretching for several miles in either direction to the left of us. The rocks were grey, sedimentous forms, with huge overhangs and vertical columns formed from millennia of stalactites and stalagmites joining together thanks to the regular heavy rainfall in the area. There were dozens of black caverns within the rock structures, huge caves stretching unknown distances back into the limestone cliff; into one such black hole, a huge staircase rose, complete with two handrails down the middle of it, and from the road we could see dots of people ascending and descending the huge structure. Nabila said there were well over 200 steps to the top, and the area was covered with monkeys ready to steal peanuts, sweets and drinks from the hundreds of unsuspecting tourists milling about the area! 

Standing proudly in front of the staircase, and the second most prominent feature of the attraction, stood an enormous solid figure, that of Lord Murugan, painted metallic gold, brightly coloured against the grey and green background of the mountain behind. Dwarfing even the staircase, with milling tourists appearing like models before him, he stood bolt upright, with a peaceful look on her face, topped with a golden cap looking a bit like a spinning top. The god was decorated with immense golden necklaces and bracelets, and wore traditional flowing trousers down to his bare feet. In his right arm he held a giant spade, its blade level with his head decorated with symbolism and supported by a lean staff which reached down to the ground, terminating in a golden ball, itself easily a metre in diameter. The figure was propped up against an upturned golden horseshoe structure, intricately decorated with countless numbers of flowers. 

Murugan, the deity to whom the cave shrine is dedicated, standing proudly against the backdrop of the huge staircase and limestone caves

Nabila parked the car close to the entranceway to the staircase, across a potholed carpark with faded yellow and blue parking markings. We exited, and adjusting to the blast of heat from the near mid-day sun, albeit slightly overcast, as well as avoiding the open sewers, we crossed from the carpark to a pedestrianised area lined with many small wooden, open-fronted shops selling fresh coconuts, makan, and of course tourist souvenirs. Already visible were dozens of grey monkeys of all ages milling around, both sitting down in the middle of the paths, completely tame, or seen walking easily along the crests of the rooftops and sitting on chimneys, poles, or whatever perches they could find. We passed through the ornate entryway to the staircase, a highly decorated traditional Hindu styled set of archways and shrines set atop a set of four light blue columns, serving as much as a crowd control measure as well as a point of entry. Apparently during the festival of Thaipusam, these caves and the surrounding area are basically one heaving mass of pilgrims to the site!

We looked up the steep, concrete and narrow-stepped staircase, ascending at a near 1:1 angle straight up to the caves, only turning slightly as it reached nearer the mouth of the complex itself. It made you feel tired just looking at it! Emma was soon to do the Three Peaks Challenge in June with some of the cast and crew from HMP Bure, having signed up to do so in a moment of sheer craziness, and we jested that this would be good practise for it! There were at least a hundred other people dotted about the staircase, at varying stages of ascent or descent, kids and adults alike, interspersed with many monkeys and indeed families of monkeys, dotted around the staircase and taking up tactical positions atop lampposts, handrails and posts on the way up. Praying to all the gods we could think of, the three of us started the long and steep climb, stopping occasionally to let our poor calf muscles release their lactic acid buildup!

Incredibly we all made it to the top without so much as a coronary or blackout, calves burning, hearts pumping and lungs starving for oxygen. More impressively none of us were mugged or even approached by our furry simian friends. Not yet anyway!! Emma and I branched off to the left, just before the cave entrance, on the advice of Nabila, toward a secondary cave system ominously titled the "Dark Cave". It was accessible through a rough concrete path, worn down by years of trampling and heavy rain; to its left was a storm gutter, covered in plant growth and containing many years of discarded crisp wrappers and drinks cans. The path hugged the cliff face, and turned to the right, first consisting of a dozen rough cut steps and then sweeping to the right and heading back upwards, rounding the corner toward a huge hole in the cliff face, with steep sides meeting the floor at an angle of about 70 degrees. Further back in the Dark Cave were a row of hard hats and a ticket desk, with about a dozen tourists waiting on a bench behind a piece of rope slung across two bollards, all awaiting a tour of the system. We only really had time for a selfie, so this was achieved before heading back to Nabila and the main caves.

Cheeky! A couple of monkeys waiting for loose bags of peanuts to snatch from unsuspecting tourists.

Nabila opted not to follow us into the main cave system, having been there numerous times with previous tourists! The main cave, its towering roof already overhanging above us at the top of the main flight of stairs, was accessed by a further flight of about twenty stairs, this time far both in terms of the steps themselves and the width of the whole flight. These led to a pavement section, about 30 yards square, at either side of which stood a couple of souvenir and drinks/ice-cream stalls, and oddly, a shop selling remote controlled helicopters. Futuristic temple! Now actually within the mouth of the cave, we looked back and saw the panorama of north KL stretching out in front of us, the twin towers gleaming in the distance and the telecoms tower visible some way away from them, separated by the white and grey colours of the skyscrapers and industry between them.

The main cave was enormous, easily the size of St Paul's Cathedral. Its high roof was barely visible in the dim lighting, even though a couple of natural skylights filtered small amounts of light into the arena. The floor of the cave was flat and concreted, with some areas of thicker material forming tiny hillocks from years of constant sediment-laden water dripping down onto the cement from the roof. Water flowed down quite heavily in some places, and a few stalagmites (stalactites cling TIGHTLY to the roof; stalagmites MIGHT reach them one day) protruded upwards in some places. The walls of the cave contained numerous small shrines to various gods, some relatively new and brightly coloured, others ancient, crumbling and faded. All showed the blackened and worn areas of countless thousands of tourists and pilgrims having touched them for good luck or to pay respects to their deities. A cockerel crowed somewhere in the cave, its crow echoing hauntingly from all the walls. The high-pitched yet quiet squeaking sound of hundreds of bats was just about audible, though only every now and then would you catch a glimpse of these elusive nocturnal animals flying high up in the craggy cave roof.

Spot the bats? Neither can I - this is a hybrid long-exposure shot! Good try though.

We walked deeper into the cave, approaching a huge skylight at the end. Another staircase greeted us, this time steeper and with even smaller steps, with only a concrete wall running up the middle of it at about hip-height to hold on to and prevent the surely injurious fall to the bottom, should one lose one's footing on the worn and wet concrete surface. Getting nearer the stairs our jaws nearly dropped as, many many metres above our heads, the cave roof opened up into a massive skylight, surrounded on all sides by trees clinging to the rocks as if by magic. The skylight filtered a strange blue-hued light into the end of the main cave, and water dropping down from small rivulets carrying old surface runoff from previous rains took about five seconds to hit the ground below. We climbed the stairs, amidst similarly wide-eyed visitors wealding DSLRs and mobile phone cameras, and after about 30 steps found ourselves on yet another plateau, this time circular and about a hundred metres across. Just off to the left hand side of it stood another shrine, this time a modern building covering numerous beds of incense sticks smoking before statuettes of gods, goddesses and golden religious figures. The far left of the platform consisted of a shallower segment of wall, leading up in a sort of tunnel to yet another figurine sitting calmly in the shadows. A couple more cockerels crowed to the right of the plateau, just beneath an iron railing marking the edge of a raised concrete platform, now dilapidated, but having served some use in the past or maybe during religious festivals. We took a slow walk back out of the caves the only way possible, i.e., the same way that we'd entered, and stopping to buy three ice lemon teas (probably the best drink in the world ever, in such a hot country especially), we started the descent down the main flight of stairs in search of waiting Nabila, narrowly avoiding being mugged by an incredibly brazen monkey whilst I attempted to phone our energetic friend who was by now waiting at the bottom of the stairs, due to the large amount of monkeys targeting stationary individuals! Stopping a couple of times to take photographs of monkey families, but this time far more cautiously guarding our ice lemon teas, and definitely not placing them in back pockets. And so ended our tour of the Batu Caves - well worth a visit!!

Feeling Royal

We skipped lunchtime makan, none of us feeling particularly hungry, and our next stop from the caves was the new national palace, or istana negara. It was situated within the Bukit Damansara district, bukit being the Malay word for hill or place of high stature. This was quite central in KL, slightly to the northwest of the centre of the city. The palace had a huge dual carriageway leading up to a car park and tiled pavement spread out before its main gates, we noted a couple of tourist coaches parked up in the car park on the left. Nabila dropped Emma and me off to approach the palace gates over the mosaic tiles of the pavement while she went and parked the car. Looking behind us, we could see the avenue leading to the palace from which we'd just arrived, lined with streetlamps bearing huge royal banners and the words Daulat Tuanku - long live the King.

The closed twin main gates of the palace were ornately decorated gold and black metal structures, easily 4m tall by 8m wide. They each bore the crest of the Royal family in their centres, and were situated within a huge concrete and marble white and gold archway, three times taller than the gates, the lower parts of which were covered with polished dark grey marble tiles. Within the walls surrounding the gate and arch, themselves topped by golden domes, and their bases inset with peaked arches within which stood both armed policemen and mounted guards on two white horses, one each either side of the gates. Beyond the gates you could see the massive, symmetrical, sprawling palace set atop a green hill, its white walls coming to a gradual peak topped by a giant golden dome, bearing a large golden spike at its zenith. We did the touristy thing of taking photographs of each other at various positions along the wall, and indeed in front of the horse and its mounted guard, before heading back to the car across the grand pavement and moving on to our next destination.

The (New) National Palace, or Istana Negara, sitting atop Bukit Damansara.

From the palace we travelled southeast towards the centre of KL, and saw the familiar white front of the old central station passing to our right, with its dozens of arches and solitary bell tower, before turning left at the end of the road it was on. This took us past the national mosque, which passed us on the right hand side; we noted numerous stalls selling water and nibbles along the pavement outside the mosque; across the road from it there stood grand-looking buildings of some major law courts, and what looked like the headquarters of a major TV company, with a nearby building sporting the Al-Jazeera logo. In the daylight we could see the mosque had an intricately decorated exterior, a sort of meshwork of petals formed from hollow concrete bricks, and large white corrugated concrete roof suspended on black pillars. The mosque has a capacity of 15,000 worshippers, and was opened in 1965. At its centre protruded a shallow-angled broad pyramid-like blue roof, apparently a 16-point star when viewed from above. Towering skywards from the mosque's low-lying structure to one corner, a huge square white minaret emerged from the mosque, terminating in a sharp point. A pair of giant loudhalers could be seen at the top of the minaret, as will all mosques in Malaysia, used to call the Muslims to prayer 5 times a day. As we passed these buildings, we could see large directional signs intended for tourists, with arrows to the points of interest around here, including the KL Bird Park, Butterfly Park, Planetarium, Mosque and the Islamic Art Gallery, which is where we were now headed.

A modern building, bright white and very rectangular, the Islamic Art Gallery had an unassuming appearance, save for four huge golden domes placed in a square pattern upon its roof. We parked up to the rear of the building, further up the road away from the station and masjid negara, and walked along its exterior to find its entrance, signified by high glass panels enclosing a pure white, polished marbled atrium behind. Descending stairs to enter, this apparently being the side-door and not even the main entrance according to a guard on the door, and descending another flight to the ticket desks, we bought three tickets to browse the museum of art. Cameras not allowed, our tickets permitted us to browse the modern Islamic art gallery downstairs, its theme being calligraphy, and we marvelled at the dozens of huge, brightly painted uniquely patterned canvases hanging from the labyrinthine walls of the display hall, all of which contained original Arabaic script in a stunning combination of effort, art and geometry.

Upstairs in the museum, accessible via a long zig-zagging concrete ramp to the edge of the glass-walled atrium, we browsed a gallery of objects of Malaysian heritage, stretching back to the days when the indigenous people had spilled out of India and the surrounding countries to the north, inhabiting the Malay peninsula; artefacts from battles and peacetime alike filled the upstairs two rooms of the museum, items of traditional royal clothing and coins, with pearl-coated chairs and cots and thrones thrown in for good measure. The ceiling of the museum contained the insides of the vast golden domes outside; each dome was painted in a unique intricate and colourful pattern, resembling something you'd see from a well-designed spirograph.

The intricately decorated interior of one of the four golden domes of the Islamic Art Gallery

Before we returned to the hotel for the evening to await meeting Carolyn and Cindy at 7pm, and after my phoning the 3-UK customer service desk and telling the Indian lady on the phone "I am abroad - in a different country", much to Emma's and Nabila's amusement, we just had time to visit a craft centre in KL, selling tourist memorabilia in the form of traditional woven baskets, insects set into glass, clothes, jewellery and postcards. During the journey, whilst still in the downtown district of KL, we passed a building shaped like a cylinder, squeezed in the middle. It consisted of grey glass, and white concrete lines forming the outside supports. Nabila commented that this building contained offices responsible for registering Muslims for pilgrimages to Mecca.

The downstairs of the wooden and thatched craft centre boasted some small craft huts, making things like wooden carvings (the smallest, thumb-sized items selling for as much as RM500 each!), weaving, and even Batik cloth, famous in this part of the world for its dazzling colours and light cotton material. Batik (pronounced bat-ache) is made by stretching out a piece of fabric and drawing lines on it with hot wax to delineate objects such as flowers, animals, or abstract shapes. These delineated regions are then exposed to water-based dye, brushed on by a skilled operator, the dye and water allowed to flow and blend with other dyes within the waxed-off region to make a graduated solid colour. Once all the regions are completed, the piece resembling a stained-glass window, the wax is melted off during the washing process and pure white lines of thin exposed material are left separating the brightly coloured dyed regions, forming stunning colours and designs.

An example of carefully crafted, brightly coloured Batik cloths

After purchasing some postcards and some typically tourist keyrings (kjur-ings, according to Emma) we headed for Habib, a jewellery shop recommended to us by Nabila's mum, to see if where was any 22ct (91.6% pure) gold that might be worth buying! In England you'd be lucky to get 22ct gold, certainly most jewellers don't stock it, and Malaysian gold prices are very good.

Nightlife in Chinatown

My cousins Carolyn and Cindy arrived to pick us up from the hotel, both them and us having battled the rush-hour traffic on Jalan Ampang to get there. Carolyn was driving her new model grey Proton Saga, rear seatbelt buckles still boasting their protective wrapping, as seems to be the case with many a Malaysian's car! We departed to the west, taking us very slowly past the twin towers, now lit up from the inside and outside. Debating where to take us, Carolyn aimed for KL's Chinatown district, otherwise known as Petaling Street (Jalan Petaling). Finding that their originally planned place to go was not open, she perused the area and finally found an underground car park, enough room for about 20 vehicles, and we walked to the main street of the area. Jalan Petaling and its area was brightly lit and decorated by hundreds of red and yellow lanterns criss-crossing the streets, hanging from cables like Christmas lights. The place was buzzing, a veritable hive of activity, with hundreds of small stalls selling all products from Prada shoes to Rolex watches, all at suspiciously too-good-to-be-true knock off prices of about RM30 - about ₤5, complete with Chinese and Malay merchants beckoning the unsuspecting tourists to buy buy buy! 

Swarms of people of all races populated the noisy street, one avenue of which was actually covered by glass panels to ward off any passing storms; the whole area had an aroma of cooking chestnuts and spicy food, with the occasional strong whiff from the open sewers and the occasional pong from a durian stall carried by the warm breeze. Carolyn, who had on an incredible, brightly coloured traditional Chinese long dress, took us all to a restaurant at the end of the main strip that she had been to before with her partner Alvin a few times; it was an open-fronted affair with overhanging corrugated iron roof, supported by a couple of wooden pillars at either end. About a dozen round and square plastic tables, some red and some white, were spread across its courtyard, populated by diners eagerly munching their noodles and rice from brightly coloured plastic dishes and sipping on ice lemon teas through straws. The kitchen of the place would not have exactly earned it a 5 on the British food-rating scale, probably not even a 1 to be honest; the place was simply a concrete room with dingy lighting, a "kitchen" to the back consisting of a couple of gas stoves and massive cauldrons, with a few frying pans sitting on hobs. All the equipment was coated black with soot and oil from years of use. It didn't really bear thinking about. The waiter arrived within 5 seconds of us sitting down, ready to take our food order already. Traditional British waiting requires at least a 10 minute window of deliberation from the newly arrived guests; Chinese waiting style doesn't really deserve the word "wait" at all! Emma and I perused the laminated menu thrust into our hands but could not come up with any decision, so we left it up to my two cousins instead. Drinks order consisted of a Coke Light for Emma, and I had a cold fruit tea that Carolyn had recommended to me. 

The "waiter" arrived minutes after our order with a selection of colourful plastic spoons, chopsticks and bowls, and a bowl of very hot water; Before I could ask why, Carolyn had already started washing the chopsticks and cutlery in the hot water, before distributing them among the four of us! I would never have thought of doing that, and would probably have given myself Bubonic Plague in the process. Thanks for saving our lives Carolyn!

No idea what to order! The four of us at the restaurant on Jalan Petaling, with the selection of food chosen by Cindy and Caroline.

Once we had eaten our main meal, mainly consisting of a selection of three types of noodles and a multitude of flavours based around fish and chicken, we got up and walked along Petaling street for a bit before the car was shut into the carpark which was due to close at 10pm. The girls suggested we buy a coconut to drink, Emma never having tasted fresh coconut water let alone held the huge, immature green seed pod before, so this is what we did, before leaving for the car via a local newsagent to buy the something similar to Gaviscon, on Carolyn's advice, in case our stomach couldn't handle the street food! Luckily, this was not needed.

Our first proper coconut. Simply slice it several times with an axe to pop off the top, drop in a few ice cubes and stick in a straw. The seasoned professionals at the stall can do this in a couple of seconds. Tourists need not apply - unless you want to go to A&E. A pint of fresh coconut water awaits, and you can scoop the juicy and succulent flesh from the interior walls as you go.

From Jalan Petaling Carolyn kindly decided to drive us in the opposite direction to our hotel, and toward where she lived, to let us taste some of the Far East's most polarizing fruit in terms of opinions of taste, the Durian, so called "King of Fruits". Cindy's university campus was also in this direction, Petaling Jaya, so we headed west along the toll-road connecting it to KL for about 20 minutes, passing through ornate gantries announcing our departure from the Federal Territory of KL and arrival into the neighbouring state of Selangor. After a bit of hunting around, and remembering directions and phoning friends, we finally found ourselves pulling up to some small eateries, brightly lit and still filled with people. Our arrival here was itself an assault on the senses - despite the air conditioning in the car set to recirculate the air, the ammonious odour of the durian was easily smelt in the car, sort of a cross between rotting vegetable matter and chopped onion. Piles of the fruit were then seen stacked high on racks and standing alone throughout three stalls announcing via huge advertising banners "all you can eat durian" and "a-la-carte durian from RM9 per person" - they sold NOTHING other than these fruits, and yet were still busy! The stalls were in a row, at the back end of a marketplace within the "SS2" district of Petaling Jaya, just off a main road along which stood brightly lit shops and hotel fronts. Plastic tables and chairs greeted us as we approached, the diners being cooled by huge fans wafting atomized clouds of water over them as they ate. We took a seat, Carolyn and Cindy going to order a durian for the four of us to try. It arrived, already cut by a skilled axe-wealding waiter.

The durian is a green fruit, about the size of a honeydew melon, but covered in inch-long spikes which hurt to touch, let alone hold. It grows on trees, scattered throughout Malaysia, and is harvested in great numbers later on in the year. Whilst its harsh exterior does not scream "eat me!", peeling open the fruit with an axe or sharp knife reveals soft white flesh, guarding the seeds themselves; the seeds are covered in a layer of orange/yellow pulp, and this is the tasty bit. The pulp has the texture of custard, and is covered in a soft membrane much like custard skin after leaving it out for too long. You more suck the pulp off the large central stone, as opposed to biting through it. As soon as you do so though, if you can brave the olfactory slaughter first, you are bombarded with an immense cacophony of flavours and smells right from the off. I personally thought it was delicious, if incredibly sickly sweet; a ridiculous mixture of apple, melon, banana and onion, with a strange hint of lime. All Emma could taste, however, was onion. Between the four of us, Cindy and I ate the majority of the fruit, Emma making her way through one portion of pulp before being overpowered! Carolyn also made a valiant effort. We threw away the husks and stones into a bin provided, before washing our hands thoroughly with water and tissue provided, and Carolyn's thoughtfully brought baby wipes! The whole tasting experience cost only RM27, or just over a fiver. I'd happily do it again!

Durian! God help you if it falls on your head. The yellow flesh is the tasty bit.

Before we returned to the hotel, Carolyn dropped off Cindy at her dorms at the University of Malaya, the first university founded within Malaysia, which at the time was called Malaya, while it was still a part of the British Empire. It was formed in 1949, and is a collegiate type university, all on the one campus which boasts a large central lake and even a hill, offering courses to bumiputras (the native Malay population) and Chinese students, ranging from accounting (Cindy's course) to engineering and even medicine. The campus was huge, Cindy pointing out the different student dorms and the lecture halls, sports complexes and various amenities, even though it was dark. Students were still milling around, and some of the sports pitches were still lit up and in use. We dropped Cindy off at her dormitory at the far end of campus, before heading back to KL and being dropped off in our hotel by Carolyn. Emma would not see these two again during her remaining stay in Malaysia; I hoped to see them at least once more, likely in Kota Bharu, before leaving for England in just under two months time.