It's impossible to tell the time, my room exists in a perpetual state of darkness. A box without windows and the ceaseless fan. My only clue comes from the sound of the city outside, dulled by the intervening layers of concrete. How long have I been asleep?
I struggle with the faint feelings of anxiety tinged with confusion and fragments of a rapidly receding dream. My cell phone buzzes to life, it's artificial cheeriness filling the room and prompting me to action. It was still before 9am. A sense of relief formed, I don't know why, for my plan for the day was vague, consisting of the single objective; GET MOVING.
I had intended taking the jungle train north to the east coast Thai border but, as I was shown once again, it pays to be flexible. Hoisting my pack I'm off out the door and into the light of day. It's Tuesday and Kuala Lumpur's day is well underway.
A clear sky, fading to grey at the edges, the polluted evidence of over 20 million people rushing headlong toward a high technology society. I feel more conspicuous with my pack, the visiting foreigner with a slice of home strapped to my back.
;) |
KL Night View | ;) |
Ice Vendor on a Motorbike |
;) |
Kuantan Mosque | ;) |
Me at the Beach |
;) |
Muslim Girls at the Beach | ;) |
Petronas Tower |
;) |
Sculpture | ;) |
Tower Minara |
;) |
Tower View of KL |
Even now, at nine in the morning it's hot,muggy and alive with the exotic sounds and smells that experience alone can describe.
The train station is relatively empty and so too is the train that arrives to whisk us off to KL central. Upon arrival I navigate my way past the numerous ticket counters, convenience stores and vendors, in search of the train that would take me to Gammas and connect with the jungle train. My inquiries revealed that the one I wanted had already departed. I sat for a while, studying the timetable, the various routes and my lonely planet maps of the Malay peninsula. After much deliberation I decided that it was important to keep moving and that the best option was to take a bus to Kauntan on the east. This meant backtracking to Chinatown bus terminal, near where I had come from.
Back on the train I feel more conspicuous than ever as it's very crowded and I'm trying my best not to injure any of the smaller locals with my heavy pack. The bus station is dark and cramped and reminds me of the inside of a ship. I secure my booking and then begin the search for the appropriate vehicle. There are countless buses, all heading in different directions and any time I question someone the point me in a new direction. I locate my coach in the nick of time, hastily stow my baggage and clamber aboard. It's fixed seating but there are a couple of vacant rows at the back . I settle in, wishing now that I'd had the foresight to purchase some provisions and remembering too late the advice in the lonely planet - take something warm as the air conditioning is more like refrigeration.
The impressive high rises, the minarets of the mosque and the rusting shanty towns are behind me. Sliding by on either side is hilly forest, huge old trees and thick bamboo groves. The road forges a wide clearing, cutting its way through the jungle clad hills. We stopped briefly, long enough to locate some bananas and some water. The air conditioning, although cool was very drying.
The country side has opened out and plantations, small towns and weed choked waterways slide by.
The bus is modern and the road doesn't look much older. We pass through several toll gates or state borders electronically monitoring our passage eastward.
The swaying and bumping of the vehicle has induced a severe need to urinate and there's no onboard toilet. I briefly consider surreptitiously peeing into my empty water bottle but I feel too visible and besides it's a tiny vessel and I'd hate to think what might eventuate if I went down that track. But wait, the bus has stopped. Perhaps I can ask the driver to wait while I relieve myself. Everyone's disembarking, what's going on, are we there? Apparently yes, this is Kuantan.