Malaysian Moments

Following a collaborative taxi ride from the airport, where we played how much charge does the driver’s phone need to load maps, I blagged my way past the dubious doorman at Regalia Apartments and finally got in to the air bnb, waking Becky up at 6.30am.

View from the entrance to the Batu Caves

Concluding that sleep was catch up time wasted, we headed straight to the Batu Caves for 8am and disturbed a number of Hindu men in loin clothes doing the morning rituals with bells and incense. Despite the brightly coloured temple-façade shrines in the caves it felt somewhat like a building site; they're preparing for the rush of pilgrims in January and February.

More to our archaeology/science taste was the Dark Cave, a conserved network of caverns next door to the Baut caves and home to rare centipedes, spiders and snakes which thankfully looked much bigger on the information board than in real life (though we didn’t see the snake).

Well walked, we headed to the KL ‘sky tower’ revolving restaurant for lunch, unsure whether our bare shoulders and plimsolls would pass the conservative dress code. All went well and we sat down at a window seat. Next to a lady in a burqa. And then the older waiters seemed rather reluctant to serve us. But the buffet food, of Indian, Malay and Chinese inspiration, was delicious and I enjoyed striding round with my bare shoulders and bare head. Mum later told us that when she visited on her OE there was barely a headscarf to be seen.

In the afternoon we wandered China town and the markets of fake luxury branded goods.

That evening we hunted down the rooftop pool at the apartments and joined a bevy of others swimming at dusk and taking photos of the KL night scape.

The next day we lockered our bags at the train station but then couldn't get out of the building, hemmed in by huge motorways and bypasses. Contrary to the guidebook's "you'll soon discover KL is best explored on foot" we seemed destined to be driven mad by a recurring wall-size jingly advert. The noise lasted many days into Penang in our heads.

Finally we made it to the Museum of Islamic Arts, admired painted domes and the pastimes of women in days gone by, then walked past the main KL mosque, through a male-only sea, to the Masjid India area. After an alarming sighting of jellyfish attack lacerations on a man's leg we had a yummy veggie Indian lunch and a regulation holiday fizzy drink.

We took the afternoon train from KL to Butterworth, Penang; a very pleasant experience except for some dubious on-board tea. Then a ferry across to Georgetown, on Penang island, and a taxi to the Air Bnb of Many Rules. Phoebe arrived later that night and the next morning we set off along a dual carriageway on foot to Georgetown.

With the Malaysia bear

AnArmenian breakfast was followed by a wander where we managed to miss most of the old town. But we found a large ring of painted bears, each representing a UN country, and regrouped at a super trendy cafe to consult Becky's guidebook. After that we saw much more of the old town: wooden jetties, temples and clanhouses.

The Courtyard of Khoo Kongsi Clanhouse

And of the new: Becky and I were keen students of Instagram posing, taught by Phoebe as we toured the street art. In return we let her take a million years to choose some photography art at Howard's Art shop. Cocktails and food at trendy China House completed the day.

The next morning we went inside the Khoo Kongsi clan house, following mango and walnut home-made yoghurt at (trendy - it was in a jar) Mugshot Cafe. Phoebe had to fly back home to Singapore, so Becky and I spent a couple of hours getting on a bus to the Botanical Gardens. Once there we saw beautiful tiny orchids, terrapins, lily pads and monkeys, and survived mugging from one of the above. Dinner was delicious vegetarian Indian at Woodlands restaurant.

A wild orchid

More yoghurt in a jar fuelled a huge trek in the National Park, at 28 degrees in the jungle. We climbed ladders of roots, visited two beaches, drank 4L of water and ate lunch with an eye on the trees. The initially elusive bus back finally delivered us at a hostel shower and we emerged elegant and sweet smelling for dinner of Penang specials - Nasi Lemak (coconut infused rice) with chicken and chopped nuts, and a light curry with swamp gherkins.

We started our perfection of squat-loo-technique at the road service station on our way to the Cameron Highlands. Fearing for our life on at least three blind corner overtakes in the minivan, we were warmly welcomed at Do Chic In homestay, in a faux Tudor apartment block. Insisting to our hostess we could tackle the hardest trail first thing the next day, we got some carbs in at delicious Chappati Singh restaurant.

Though not able to produce an authentic Chinese meal without soy sauce (and therefore gluten), our hostesses produced amazing gluten free breakfasts for Becky, which were much better than mine! We thus shot up Trail 1 in about an hour, the mud, swamps, roots, logs, fallen trees and vertical mud face no trouble. Trouble was possible when we caught up with the stragglers of an army exercise who were smoking and taking selfies, but the men were most concerned with our wellbeing and the conversation was more bemused on their side than unwelcome on ours.

Views over the Highlands from the top of Trail 1

Mossy Forest boardwalk, a short foray down mystery Trail 14 (not on the map and later discovered to be 'not suitable without a guide') and a long road walk rewarded us at last with the million ringgit tea plantation views and two rounds of tea and cake. We also made a Malaysian friend, Jo, who gave us some very interesting commentary on Islam in Malaysia (taught increasingly strictly in schools from a young age as a method of control).

After freshening up we had fantastic reflexology on our feet, and upper body massages.

Our final Highlands trail took us up to a viewpoint under a huge pylon, from which we could see the towns and strawberry farms tucked into the mountains, and through some roadworks with very helpful builders. Our reward was a proper cream tea at The Old Smokehouse, a bonafide British pub/inn that must have been built by the British themselves: it smelt right inside.

Possibly un-English birds in the pretty Smokehouse garden

Surreal tea over, we had a short stint under a picnic shelter in the pouring rain then continued to a waterfall. Disappointingly muddy and with a big eddy of rubbish, so we cut our losses and walked out of town to another tea plantation, where you could frolic amongst the bushes. Or in our case choose a steep and unsuitable descent down the side of a hill. The rest at the bottom of the valley in the sunshine was very pleasant.

In defiance of our hostesses un-coeliac-friendly dinner, we went to a Chinese restaurant. And the next morning there was fried rice for breakfast!

On the way back to KL on the coach we had luxury seats much like Lazy-boy chairs but not quite as comfy. We used a squat toilet for the last time, because... we had a room at the Ritz! Becky's birthday present to me was exceptional: personal butler and PA, room upgrade, beautiful pool, comfiest bed, great-smelling moisturizer, brownies delivered in the evening.

A note and treats from our butler

We lived up to the life of luxury by wandering some designer malls and buying nothing, taking selfies with the Petronas Towers in KLCC Park and sneaking into Traders Hotel Skybar when it was technically guest-only time and ordering two huge frozen cocktails. After sundown we headed to a brilliant restaurant for a last taste of Malay cuisine (last nasi lemak!), where the waiter inexplicably put us in a little bead-curtained-off area.

Our final day was pretty tough. We dug into the huge breakfast buffet, read our books by the pool, swam a few times, then showered and changed for high tea: a part glutenous part gluten-free tower of sweet delights! Our PA turned up to take a photo and when we left she gave us each a print in a Ritz KL photo frame.

Sadly we parted ways at KLIA2, where less salubrious airlines dock, for me to reunite with the Air Asia plane home.

That was the life