Malaysian Trip Part I: Old Friends In The Millions
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Malaysian Trip Part 1: Old Friends In The Millions
The bus started at Golden Mile Complex,the most luxurious bus i have ever been on.It felt like the seats were plucked from the Business Class of a Boeing 747,completed with a TV screen,game controller and massage.It was the most amazing bus i have ever been on,though the air-conditioning was terribly turned to the wrong side of the temperatue scale.I ended up cuddling myself in the seat with no blankets whatsoever,and trying to distract myself with the music in my ears and the darkness outside the window.
It was a little over eleven when we must have entered Malaysia.There was a little unwillingness to leave on my part,paricularly after leaving her at the 16th floor of her block,after staring out into the approaching storm and the city lights far off.It was the perfect way to leave the country,but at the same time also the hardest.But anyway,i erased that thought from my mind as we crossed the Malaysian border over dark waters on either side.It was a smooth ride afterwards,and we found ourselves falling softly asleep into our big comfortable seats as the bus wore on into the night.
The red numbers flashed at the top of the windscreen,and through the mirror i saw the numbers '50:0' instead of '0:02'.It floated in mid air throughout the bus trip,with the background being the dark planatation that stretched all the way into the hills and over the horizon.Murmurs sprung out from all around the bus in the early part of the journey,but quietened down towards the end after we made our first pitstop,buying food and having toilet breaks.
I swear,Malaysia has the worst toilets ever.I visited one at the pitstop,and it didnt even have a wall on one side of the toilet,just an empty space that stretched out into the back alley of the building behind.The urinals didnt have a flush,and it had black and yellow stains all over.I thought the toilet on the third floor at my company was bad,this is worse.I evacuated the toilet as fast as possible,and joined my friends at the 'Bao' counter to grab some quick supper.
I have to confess that i love long bus journeys.Of course,it must involve minimum traffic jams,and always moving on the highway.In a way i prefer it to aeroplanes,partly due to the fact that planes have a very monotonous view of the outside world.Blue and white,blue and white,and more blue and white.At least you get a taste of the country first during a bus ride before actually stepping off.It is a great experience,to stare out through the windows of the bus,feeling the vibrations against the side of your face,and hoping that the whole trip is only going to consist the bus trip alone.I think i fell in love with it after my Indian trip,but that was 12 hours long,with little leg space and a freezing cold weather to speak of.I remember one of the pitstops at the side of the road,where four bus load of army boys from Singapore,lined up against the row of broken concrete wall to urinate in the middle of the night.Not going to happen a lot in Malaysia but,that's what makes bus trips,bus trips.They are unique experiences,truly amazing.Trains,anyone?
After hanging my headphones on the hook provided and turning off the TV screen after dying a million times thirty seconds into a game of Sonic,i looked out into the night sky in an awkward angle and found a million stars above our heads.There were no clouds whatsoever,with the sky dyed in a dark shade of indigo.The stars were there,as if somebody sprayed them onto the dark canvas above,and i stared at it in awe while my friends watched on too.I didnt expect to see stars the way i saw them on the highways of Malaysia ever again after my Indian experience.Now i wished that the bus driver had stopped at the side of the road for us to admire the greatness of the painting above,even if it was for a while.A million old friends from India followed me all the way to Malaysia,right there on the highway in the middle of the night.For a moment there,the chill of the air-conditioning left me.
When the bus pulled into Kuala Lumpur,we were dumped at the side of the road,which was the supposed interchange.Across the street we saw a couple of traveler's inn,that looked more like shady prostitution homes than...well,the proclaimed business that they were doing.Even at 4am,with a slight drizzle over the city,the town was bursting with life.Taxi drivers swarmed to the passengers getting off the buses,and coffee houses were packed with people as well.There was a hippy-looking old man at the front of one of them,playing his guiar at the crowd who paid little to no attention to him at all,which i thought was brilliant because you dont find such a thing in Singapore,anywhere.Sure,you have that blind dude who plays the keyboards at the Orchard underpass,and that Caucasian man without his forearm playing the guitar as well.But those were for the money really,and not anything else.That Malay man really was the epidome of street art,and i respected him for that.
The drizzle came down over us and got heavier and heavier.Jerry the cousin was late as well,and Wanwei was an ant on the pan.But in fact,we all were as the creepy gangsters roamed the streets with their intimidating numbers,searching the street corners for the next lonely target.Jerry and Terence came to fetch us to the hotel after half an hour of wait,and the rain came pouring down as we take refuge in what looked like the lobby of the 'hotel': Dragon Inn.
I was expecting a shabby looking hotel actually,with bad lighting and bad beds,bad toilets and everything.But it turned out to be great for that price range,just a little crammed up everywhere.I had little leg space to walk to my own bed,and the room had no windows at all.The toilet was in a way better than the one i have in Taiwan,but the only question i had was: How the hell did they get the beds into the room?(They probably built it in the room,but it's not like i want to know really).
I fell into a comfortable sleep afterwards,writing in the dark on the notebook i brought along.The room was completely dark with the lights off,and the beating of my heart was a little louder than usual.I counted the beats,then i thought about the last messages i recieved before i left Singapore.I smiled in the dark for no one to see,and after long minutes of thinking about absolutely nothing,i fell asleep and dreamed of a million of old friends in the sky...
The bus started at Golden Mile Complex,the most luxurious bus i have ever been on.It felt like the seats were plucked from the Business Class of a Boeing 747,completed with a TV screen,game controller and massage.It was the most amazing bus i have ever been on,though the air-conditioning was terribly turned to the wrong side of the temperatue scale.I ended up cuddling myself in the seat with no blankets whatsoever,and trying to distract myself with the music in my ears and the darkness outside the window.
It was a little over eleven when we must have entered Malaysia.There was a little unwillingness to leave on my part,paricularly after leaving her at the 16th floor of her block,after staring out into the approaching storm and the city lights far off.It was the perfect way to leave the country,but at the same time also the hardest.But anyway,i erased that thought from my mind as we crossed the Malaysian border over dark waters on either side.It was a smooth ride afterwards,and we found ourselves falling softly asleep into our big comfortable seats as the bus wore on into the night.
The red numbers flashed at the top of the windscreen,and through the mirror i saw the numbers '50:0' instead of '0:02'.It floated in mid air throughout the bus trip,with the background being the dark planatation that stretched all the way into the hills and over the horizon.Murmurs sprung out from all around the bus in the early part of the journey,but quietened down towards the end after we made our first pitstop,buying food and having toilet breaks.
I swear,Malaysia has the worst toilets ever.I visited one at the pitstop,and it didnt even have a wall on one side of the toilet,just an empty space that stretched out into the back alley of the building behind.The urinals didnt have a flush,and it had black and yellow stains all over.I thought the toilet on the third floor at my company was bad,this is worse.I evacuated the toilet as fast as possible,and joined my friends at the 'Bao' counter to grab some quick supper.
I have to confess that i love long bus journeys.Of course,it must involve minimum traffic jams,and always moving on the highway.In a way i prefer it to aeroplanes,partly due to the fact that planes have a very monotonous view of the outside world.Blue and white,blue and white,and more blue and white.At least you get a taste of the country first during a bus ride before actually stepping off.It is a great experience,to stare out through the windows of the bus,feeling the vibrations against the side of your face,and hoping that the whole trip is only going to consist the bus trip alone.I think i fell in love with it after my Indian trip,but that was 12 hours long,with little leg space and a freezing cold weather to speak of.I remember one of the pitstops at the side of the road,where four bus load of army boys from Singapore,lined up against the row of broken concrete wall to urinate in the middle of the night.Not going to happen a lot in Malaysia but,that's what makes bus trips,bus trips.They are unique experiences,truly amazing.Trains,anyone?
After hanging my headphones on the hook provided and turning off the TV screen after dying a million times thirty seconds into a game of Sonic,i looked out into the night sky in an awkward angle and found a million stars above our heads.There were no clouds whatsoever,with the sky dyed in a dark shade of indigo.The stars were there,as if somebody sprayed them onto the dark canvas above,and i stared at it in awe while my friends watched on too.I didnt expect to see stars the way i saw them on the highways of Malaysia ever again after my Indian experience.Now i wished that the bus driver had stopped at the side of the road for us to admire the greatness of the painting above,even if it was for a while.A million old friends from India followed me all the way to Malaysia,right there on the highway in the middle of the night.For a moment there,the chill of the air-conditioning left me.
When the bus pulled into Kuala Lumpur,we were dumped at the side of the road,which was the supposed interchange.Across the street we saw a couple of traveler's inn,that looked more like shady prostitution homes than...well,the proclaimed business that they were doing.Even at 4am,with a slight drizzle over the city,the town was bursting with life.Taxi drivers swarmed to the passengers getting off the buses,and coffee houses were packed with people as well.There was a hippy-looking old man at the front of one of them,playing his guiar at the crowd who paid little to no attention to him at all,which i thought was brilliant because you dont find such a thing in Singapore,anywhere.Sure,you have that blind dude who plays the keyboards at the Orchard underpass,and that Caucasian man without his forearm playing the guitar as well.But those were for the money really,and not anything else.That Malay man really was the epidome of street art,and i respected him for that.
The drizzle came down over us and got heavier and heavier.Jerry the cousin was late as well,and Wanwei was an ant on the pan.But in fact,we all were as the creepy gangsters roamed the streets with their intimidating numbers,searching the street corners for the next lonely target.Jerry and Terence came to fetch us to the hotel after half an hour of wait,and the rain came pouring down as we take refuge in what looked like the lobby of the 'hotel': Dragon Inn.
I was expecting a shabby looking hotel actually,with bad lighting and bad beds,bad toilets and everything.But it turned out to be great for that price range,just a little crammed up everywhere.I had little leg space to walk to my own bed,and the room had no windows at all.The toilet was in a way better than the one i have in Taiwan,but the only question i had was: How the hell did they get the beds into the room?(They probably built it in the room,but it's not like i want to know really).
I fell into a comfortable sleep afterwards,writing in the dark on the notebook i brought along.The room was completely dark with the lights off,and the beating of my heart was a little louder than usual.I counted the beats,then i thought about the last messages i recieved before i left Singapore.I smiled in the dark for no one to see,and after long minutes of thinking about absolutely nothing,i fell asleep and dreamed of a million of old friends in the sky...
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