The sun was shining today, giving us a slightly more positive outlook on a city that had appeared dirty and noisy and not terribly interesting the day before. The dirt was still there, but we could see the efforts to control where the garbage went; the noise was still there, but we could hear the different components as hawkers and shops attempted to lure customers off the streets; and we found a park and some more attractive bits and pieces tucked into a busy city.
After finding me enjoying my plate of what I now know is called nasi lemak (see previous post), Rich got a quick tour of Little India. Malaysian culture is an interesting blend of native Malay, and Indian and Chinese immigrants, and is reflected in KL’s neighbourhoods and on the nation’s plates. After this bright and noisy detour, we hopped on the monorail (monoraaaaaail….MONORAAAAAAIL…! I have hardly ever seen The Simpsons and yet, that song just won’t leave me alone…) and got across town with ease. We meandered through the busy downtown business and banking sector over to the park that we saw from Traders the night before. Fortunately for us, it had a gigantic water playground, so we stripped off our shoes and plunked ourselves down on the edge, laughing at children who played, unashamedly, in nothing but their birthday suits. When sitting in the sun with our feet in the water ceased to be refreshing, we wandered further into the park and found benches under the shade of a large pergola covered in what looked like (but I’m sure wasn’t) giant wisteria vines. I made like a local and promptly fell asleep for 45 mins while Rich read his book.
Dinner was a stop back at the satay restaurant we’d visited the day before on Jln Alor and, just after we grabbed a table, the rain we’d fervently hoped for all day came down, making the humidity a little easier to bear. The rain let up as we finished our meal, but we made it back to KL Sentral station just in time to make the walk home in a monsoon – rain coming down with such vigour that not only were we instantly soaked, but the rain was streaming down our faces and running in great big droplets off the tip of my nose. With my camera gear (relatively) safely stored, there was nothing to do but laugh – and jump in the puddles all the way back to the hotel. An early night, ready for another early start. Kota Kinabalu in the morning, when the real adventure would begin.
The route back to the airport was now familiar and even easier, so there was little to think about, apart from where we’d be getting breakfast (can you tell I like to eat???). Panang curry soup at 7am? No problem. We got our food, got through security and, as we boarded our flight to Borneo, I couldn’t help but be wiggly with excitement. We were ACTUALLY going to Borneo.
We arrived in Kota Kinabalu (pronounced Keena-BAH-loo, which I find rather cute, but commonly known as KK) and made for Lavender Lodge on the recommendation of a friend currently in Borneo. Our room was clean and simple, if windowless, but it would do. The staff helped us book a trip to the Kinabatangan River for the next couple of days, meaning that in the space of 10 minutes, we’d done all of the ‘arranging’ that needed to be done so we had the rest of the day to have lunch at a restaurant down the street and explore the city.
Turns out there isn’t a whole lot to explore, unless you’re like me and find food markets interesting, in which case you’ve hit the jackpot. Poor Rich – every time I see a market, I tell myself that it’s going to be the same as every other market (which it usually mostly is) and that it really isn’t going to be THAT interesting. But it is. I can’t help it. I find it endlessly fascinating. I love wandering through stalls selling produce new and familiar – fresh pomelo, chillies, calamansi, bananas, gourds and melons of all shapes and sizes… There’s a vibrancy to life in the markets of Asia that you don’t find elsewhere. And then, if I’m lucky (keep in mind that I have no sense of smell), there’s a wet market – and in the case of KK, there were TWO: (*cue groaning from Rich*) a meat market and, my personal favourite, a fish market. The cries of “Tunatunatunatunatunatunaaaaaaa!” and other, similar cries about fish unfamiliar to me; the water being poured down the slick skins and splashing onto the ground; the cleavers methodically hacking fish into halves lengthwise up the spine; the GIGANTIC prawns and their smaller counterparts heaped onto large wooden tables; the careful arrangement of prime cuts into appealing displays – it’s all fascinating and entertaining to me. So day one was spent immersed in markets for quite some time. :)
On our way out of the markets, we each bought some fruit to eat over by the waterfront. We passed a cluster of 6 or 8 dirty-but-cute young children between the ages of about 3 and 7, and leaned on the railing to snack on our watermelon and water green melon Rich bought. Little did I know those dirty-but-cute kids were about to become dirty-and-not-so-cute little bullies. One little boy, about 4 years old, quietly walked up to me and, with impressive speed, flicked my skirt halfway up my back, leaving my backside and underwear on display to anyone in the restaurants behind us who happened to be looking. I’d just been reverse-pantsed by a child! The kids (Rich included) found this INCREDIBLY funny. I, on the other hand, struggled to find it quite as amusing and promptly – and firmly – tucked my skirt between my knees. Just as well because, feeling emboldened by the success of their friend, two others also attempted to help me show off a bit of extra flesh. Sneaky buggers. Finished with both our snack and the harassing hands of kids who were barely past being toddlers, we headed back to the guesthouse, Rich with a smirk on his face the whole way.
Grateful for: nasi lemak, my knees
