After an uncomfortable and sweaty night for both of us, we got out of bed at 10:00 hrs. and had breakfast in the YMCA restaurant. At M$4 for fixed breakfast it was much more expensive than what we were used to paying, but the food is hygienically prepared and Western in nature.
We set out to book our train tickets to Singapore for tomorrow, and this was accomplished in a trice (unlike Indian experiences). M$15.50 for a seat on the 07:30 hrs. express train. We then bought some postcards and set off in search of the Post Office. The Lonely Planet map was over-simplified and outdated, and as new flyovers and building were being erected as you looked at them, it was quite confusing.
We overshot but found it eventually, housed in a mammoth new stark white building. We found the Stamp Vending Counter after a round-the-houses tour of the internal stories and offices, bought postage stamps and settled in the sterile, air-conditioned Post Office Restaurant on the third floor.
We sipped Milo (Milo is a chocolate and malt powder typically mixed with hot water or milk (or both) to produce a beverage popular in Oceania, South America, Southeast Asia and parts of Africa. Produced by Nestlé, Milo was originally developed in Australia by Thomas Mayne in 1934.) and wrote our postcards before searching the long bank of letter boxes for the overseas one.
Our next goal was the Tourist Information Office, but this had shut up shop and moved. To no avail I also tried to change my Iranian currency in the towering international banks. These were vast impersonal skyscrapers with lifts and computers, and it took several minutes to discover which floor the international exchange department was on.
We ate pineapple chunks which we purchased from a street vendor and browsed around several music stalls. George was ecstatic when he spotted the new Bob Dylan LP “Infidels”. At 14:00 hrs. we discovered a street café and got a noodle and spicy seafood dish. It was marvellous and cheap at M$1.30. We gave the chopsticks a miss and used a spoon to eat it.
Many of the shop signs were in Chinese characters and the Chinese influence could be seen mixed with Western ideas in clothes and architecture. The street café was protected from the sun by coloured umbrellas and several podgy cooks ladled weird and wonderful ingredients into bowls for serving.
Many Malays seem to have pockmarked skin from acne or something. Girls were often over made up and clung to each other’s arms as they wandered about giggling. We had already seen the Masjid Jame, a traditional mosque at a fork in the muddy river that flows through Kuala Lumpar, but it was overshadowed by the surrounding skyscrapers and appeared to be under renovation.
The Masjid Jamek Mosque, also known as Friday Mosque, is recognised as the oldest Islamic place of worship in Kuala Lumpur. Overlooking the Klang River, it has a combination of ancient Moorish, Islam and Mughal architectural styles, verdant surroundings, and distant views of KL’s other iconic landmarks.
Built in 1907 by British architect Arthur Benison Hubback, Masjid Jamek Mosque served as the main centre of worship for the local Muslim community until the Masjid Negara (National Mosque) was officially opened to the public in 1965. Surrounding the main prayer hall are three domes, the tallest of which measures at 20 metres, flanked by two brick minarets that stand over 25 metres tall.
We also saw The National Mosque of Malaysia (Malay: Masjid Negara Malaysia, مسجد نݢارا مليسيا) which is a mosque in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. It has a capacity for 15,000 people and is situated among 13 acres (53,000 square metres) of gardens. Its key features are a 73-metre-high (240 foot) minaret and a 16-pointed star concrete main roof.
The umbrella, synonymous with the tropics, is featured conspicuously – the main roof is reminiscent of an open umbrella, the minaret's cap a folded one. The folded plates of the concrete main roof are a creative solution to achieving the larger spans required in the main gathering hall. Reflecting pools and fountains spread throughout the compound.
Completed in 1965, the mosque is a bold and modern approach in reinforced concrete, symbolic of the aspirations of a then newly independent nation. We noted that it was a fancy new building that looked more like a school or library with an arty tower out front. Neither of the two mosques appeared to be that well patronised although Islam was deemed the national religion of Malaysia. Money seemed to be the new religion!
Kuala Lumpar means “muddy river mouth” and owes it’s rapid growth to local tin deposits. We passed another ornate temple in the back streets which tapered upwards with ornate carven layers. I assumed it to be Hindu as it sported two stone cows on either side.
This would have been the Sri Mahamariamman Temple which is the oldest Hindu temple in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Founded in 1873, it is situated at edge of Chinatown in Jalan Bandar (formerly High Street). In 1968, a new structure was built, featuring the ornate 'Raja Gopuram' tower in the style of South Indian temples. From its inception, the temple provided an important place of worship for early Indian immigrants and is now an important cultural and national heritage.
We browsed around the hi-fi and electronic gadgetry shops as well. In fact, almost everything that you could think of was on sale somewhere in this vibrant city. Buildings and flyovers were being rapidly erected by industrious workers and hordes of low engine capacity Japanese motorcycles buzzed about on the busy roads.
We got back to the YMCA at 16:30 hrs. and went up to our room with a carton of lychee juice. We read our books and 3 hours flitted passed unnoticed before we realised that it was 19:30 hrs. We left the YMCA block and put away a sweet and sour fish dish at a pavement restaurant opposite. We finished with a glass of Chinese tea which looked like beer but tasted like hot river water.
We then wandered into town, taking advantage of the many stalls selling exotic fruits chopped into cubes and packed in plastic bags to be taken away and eaten with an oversize cocktail stick. We had a pineapple puree drink near where the Lonely Planet “South East Asia on a Shoestring” book said there was a thriving evening market. There wasn’t.
On our continuing search for nightlife, I spotted the well-known McDonalds golden arches M sign and without further ado we steamed into the restaurant. We were soon ensconced in a table compartment facing a Big Mac and a cup of their familiar bitter coffee.
We chortled with glee as the uniformity of these establishments gave us a taste of home. We could have been in Hounslow High Street in West London were it not for the oriental faces and the gibberish below the English on the menu.
On the British sitcom “Birds of a Feather” when sisters Tracey and Sharon go to America they exclaim “Great, they have English food”, as they pass McDonalds, Burger King and Kentucky Fried Chicken on the bus from the airport.
We felt that we were in civilization again and the trip was over. Thoroughly cheered we returned to the hostel via the impersonal road system with it’s over-and-under loops and harsh lights, geared up for traffic rather than pedestrians.
We indulged in a large bag of pineapple chunks and chomped the down before showering and turning in for the night.
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