I like being a tourist. I like to leave behind the chaos and disorganisation that is the
Like the Indonesian ridiculous and slightly obscene Fiskal Exit Tax. It can have no possible benefit beyond keeping the poor at home, uninformed and proving a ready source of folding cash which partially disappears somewhere into the grey area of outstretched palms and private pockets that is Indonesian bureaucracy.
But, hey, enough grumbling. I'm seeing the world.
I really do like being a tourist. I like the sights. Not all of them though…the extended family heading back to Perth, grossly overweight, swearing, and pushing through to Garuda check-in, was not pleasant. That’s what happens when you build a city in a place where common sense indicates one was really not such a good idea; and they start inbreeding.
Whenever I think of
But the sweeping freeways from KL airport though the endless the Palm oil plantations are, and the massive stainless steel rise of the twin towers is far more majestic in real life than any photograph can possibly suggest.
And we ate. An eight course Chinese lunch, including Yee Sang, a local seafood salad mixed by the participants for good luck before Chinese New Year, and a rendang for breakfast, were not the least of it.
And we drank. We ended up on the first night in the VIP seating of the 34th floor rooftop bar, Luna with cigars, Pinot Noir and a wonderful American Malay called Tom, a school friend of our host, who had drunk most of a bottle of Black Label but remained absolutely lucid and regaled us with stories of parties throughout South East Asia before we reluctantly got a lift home at three with him in his Volvo….yes I know…I was pleased to see the hotel doors.
My body was glad to leave KL, although Brigid was bemused (amused?) to point out that KL airport, after you’ve passed all searches and machines, has a small shop which sells, amongst other things, scissors and nail files for your flight. Tell that to Homeland Security. Then, I feel far more secure anywhere in Asia than in the
Of course, in
Tempered this time by the English two (shall I use the zild-ese of Poms?...maybe not) on the table next to us, he with his yellow beer logo T shirt and she, of rather generous proportions, with a large cocktail served in a porcelain replica of a Tuk-Tuk. As she drank and ate she took the opportunity to call back to
Last time we were here, Brigid walked into an elephant, literally…two more nights to go, there is still time. You never know. There are always the Cobras.....as a New Zealander I have funny reaction to seeing these things on the footpath
There are always the Cobras.....as a New Zealander I have funny reaction to seeing these things on the footpath
But what I do know is I love Asia and especially big big Asian cities, complete with the dirt, mayhem and traffic; and to be honest can’t really imagine ever settling happily back into the slightly unreal quiet of somewhere like Auckland.