This KL trip started off pretty bad. First my travel buddy--my sister could not push thru with it because of work. And this was decided after I bought two non-refundable, non-transferrable, non-rebook-able round trip promo tickets. What to do? What to do? Decided the last minute that I would go, even if travelling alone was not that appealing, but the idea of using up half of the expense that would've otherwise gone to waste, was good.And everything went g-g-g-good! I left Singapore at midnight, on a bus (PHOTO1) that might as well have been a first class airline because of its 'in-flight' amenities. Rollicking in the huge seat I played with the recliner and the foot rest buttons. But halfway thru the trip, I realized I did not write down my hotel address. (I am stupid in genius disguise!) I arrived Kuala Lumpur at dawn. I went out to the streets to look for the one thing that I consider a refuge in an unfamiliar Asian city; I went looking for a 7eleven.
Sure enough there it was a few meters at the corner standing in all its red, white, green and orange glory! Inside I asked about a money changer coz I had zilch Malaysian Ringgit. (Really, stupid in genius disguise). It wasn't open yet. What to do? What to do? As I lingered at the station figuring out a plan, I recognized a familiar face from the bus, one of my 'smiling' friends.
Smiling Friends
I’ve become 'smiling' friends (term used like ‘kissing’ friends) with a few people in the bus coz twice into the trip we had to get checked at immigration. And since I had never travelled to a foreign country in a bus before, I had no idea what to do. The driver was no help, he spoke no English. But my 'smiling' bus mate friends were the ones who would cue me to step out when needed; one ‘smiling’ guy friend helped bring my luggage out the bus to the Malaysian immigration counter. When we arrived I was still sleeping, it was another ‘smiling’ guy friend who woke me up.
Now this girl I recognized at the station was the one sitting in front of me at the bus earlier. I smiled at her as a good 'smiling' friend would. She asked where I was going, the usual getting to know questions. Her name was Nicole and she was Malaysian Chinese who was working in Singapore. She was working in logistics so it was quite embarrassing to admit that I neglected to take note of my hotel address, but made a quick save-face by saying “I remember it perfectly from the map”... “If only I had some Ringgit to buy a city map,” I thought. And that’s when she offered to exchange a few dollars for me. The sweetest girl, I didn’t even need to ask!
Armed with my fresh new currency, I bought my map with a few RM left for cab fare, and after an hour of chatting with Nicole (we had to wait for her bus ride at sunrise) she took me to a safe place to hail a cab. She negotiated for me, I said thanks and gave her a hug and said bye. She was my first angel on that trip.
Filipino Fan
My second was the cab driver Matt, real name Muhammad, who turned out to be a former bank executive who's visited the Philippines for a 2week finance seminar, where he says he's gone to Baguio, stayed at a fab hotel along Roxas, and best of all (according to him) he met speaker Joe DV. But bullshit politicians aside, he was a fan of the Philippines. And that was such an advantage when the only thing I could do to lead him to my hotel was to point to its general location on my map. I couldn’t remember the street address, the building number; I didn’t remember any of the landmarks! He says he's seen it but doesn’t remember either. We must've driven around for an hour, stopping twice to ask for directions. (He was a real man that Matt to ask for directions). When we found the hotel, I gave him extra, (I could afford to give extra for cab drivers in Malaysia considering the rates are about a third of what it is in Singapore) and thanked him profusely.
My second was the cab driver Matt, real name Muhammad, who turned out to be a former bank executive who's visited the Philippines for a 2week finance seminar, where he says he's gone to Baguio, stayed at a fab hotel along Roxas, and best of all (according to him) he met speaker Joe DV. But bullshit politicians aside, he was a fan of the Philippines. And that was such an advantage when the only thing I could do to lead him to my hotel was to point to its general location on my map. I couldn’t remember the street address, the building number; I didn’t remember any of the landmarks! He says he's seen it but doesn’t remember either. We must've driven around for an hour, stopping twice to ask for directions. (He was a real man that Matt to ask for directions). When we found the hotel, I gave him extra, (I could afford to give extra for cab drivers in Malaysia considering the rates are about a third of what it is in Singapore) and thanked him profusely.
Shopping Priorities
After a quick moment of gratitude for my morning’s good fortune, I rested and showered then spread my brand new map on the bed and familiarized myself with my location. I can fairly say I got a photographic memory that way. But even when I was sure I remembered, I wrote down what I failed to from the night before: my exact hotel address. And then I left to do the first to-do item on my priority list: Shopping.
Most Singaporeans come to KL to shop and I understood why. A branded handbag in Singapore would be 20% discounted in KL even at regular price. In Bintang Walk, the city’s major shopping district, I pranced around the shops and fashion boutiques. The first thing I bought was a pair of gold flats that matched perfectly with my current outfit, so I wore it! Luckily it was comfortable for a new pair so more prancing didn’t hurt. I might have skipped-hopped the moment I chanced upon a pair of light green wedge espadrilles that were just too pretty for 40RM. I bought 2 more pairs of shoes, a swimsuit (for that Bali ‘wishful-thinking’ summer I plan), board shorts, denim jeans, a choice of 2 belts in cream and black, some accessories, and the leather carry-all that I’ve always wanted. The last item was a pair of dress shorts that I grabbed too hastily, only to find one of a similar make at half the price at the next store. That was my sign to stop.
Hop-On Hop-Off
Exiting the mall, I found a friendly young boy at the street corner named Aimie (apparently that’s a boy’s name in Malaysia) selling tour bus tickets. Up to this point, I hadn’t planned out how I was gonna see the rest of the city and after hearing out his hop-on hop-off concept, I decided it was worth a try. So I purchased a voucher for 38RM. A few minutes later, what arrived was a bad-ass double-decker bus in glossy black and purple, with flag signs and faint images of KL tourist spots.
In KL traffic (which kinda reminds me of Manila) you need a bus like that. The entire second level had a sunroof that was perfect for viewing the KL tower and of course the magnificent Petronas twin towers and getting a tan while you’re at it. The white people (forgive my politically-incorrect term) loved it more than I did! They were in controlled temperature while enjoying sun rays—can’t get any better than that.I saw the busy Chinatown on Petaling Street. And then there was Central Market which I would have explored if I hadn’t given the self-imposed ruling to stop shopping. I passed by the historic Merdeka stadium where Malaysia declared its independence from the Brits in 1957, I caught a glimpse of countless modern skyscrapers with a distinctive Moorish influence in its architecture, the Petronas towers included. It’s amazing how something so modern can be so old world at the same time.
But of course the real old world buildings still owned the most charm compared to its modern successors. They were beautiful beyond belief. The mosques, museums and galleries, the old government offices--I felt like the first time I visited Marawi (and perhaps like the first time I visit Morocco in the future). Marawi is an Islam city in northern Mindanao, and I went there without my parents’ knowledge coz they NEVER would have said yes. When I got there after getting invited by a TV news group to tag along, I remember thinking how beautiful the huge mosques were, and how the city had so much more character than most other Philippine cities I’ve been to. (And I’ve been to a whole lot). If only it were cleaner and less dangerous. Or maybe it’s all part of the charm?
Personal Photographers
I hopped-off at the National Palace to get my photo taken with one of the national guards in those lavish cream uniforms, amusingly detailed with sarongs. (This must be where David Beckham got his fashion sense on his sarong-wearing days). Of course being completely alone, I had to ask another person to take my photo. And that I did. On this occasion, the lucky guy who became my own personal photographer was a Swiss tourist who came with his buddy for business but decided to tour on the side. Never got his name, it was a quickie negotiation. But I made sure to say more than 3 repeats of ‘Thank you very much.’
I had asked quite a number of people to be my personal photographer on this trip and am grateful to all of them. A quick tip for ladies: Always ask men. Unless you wanna get an annoyed look from another woman, pick a nice gentlemanly face from the crowd to ask to take your photo. A smile and a sincere ‘thank you’ will be enough in exchange. Sometimes you might need to do a hand gesture instead, given language barriers, but as long as sincere, you not only get a new ‘smiling friend’ you might even get an NFF (new found friend) pending an exchange of business cards.
Before I had my late dinner for the day, consisting of beef noodle soup and spring rolls, with watermelon shake for downing it all, (my lucky personal photographer was the initially snobbish waiter who later warmed up to a smile), my last tour stop was the Eye of Malaysia wheel. In my opinion that area was too touristy and nothing spectacular on account of the bigger and grander Singapore Flyer that had just recently opened. But nevertheless, I took several pictures around the area, especially of the magnificent National Art Gallery building with its enormous multi-level blue-green pointy roofings—it was an architectural KL masterpiece next to the Petronas twin towers!
I hopped-off at the National Palace to get my photo taken with one of the national guards in those lavish cream uniforms, amusingly detailed with sarongs. (This must be where David Beckham got his fashion sense on his sarong-wearing days). Of course being completely alone, I had to ask another person to take my photo. And that I did. On this occasion, the lucky guy who became my own personal photographer was a Swiss tourist who came with his buddy for business but decided to tour on the side. Never got his name, it was a quickie negotiation. But I made sure to say more than 3 repeats of ‘Thank you very much.’
I had asked quite a number of people to be my personal photographer on this trip and am grateful to all of them. A quick tip for ladies: Always ask men. Unless you wanna get an annoyed look from another woman, pick a nice gentlemanly face from the crowd to ask to take your photo. A smile and a sincere ‘thank you’ will be enough in exchange. Sometimes you might need to do a hand gesture instead, given language barriers, but as long as sincere, you not only get a new ‘smiling friend’ you might even get an NFF (new found friend) pending an exchange of business cards.
Before I had my late dinner for the day, consisting of beef noodle soup and spring rolls, with watermelon shake for downing it all, (my lucky personal photographer was the initially snobbish waiter who later warmed up to a smile), my last tour stop was the Eye of Malaysia wheel. In my opinion that area was too touristy and nothing spectacular on account of the bigger and grander Singapore Flyer that had just recently opened. But nevertheless, I took several pictures around the area, especially of the magnificent National Art Gallery building with its enormous multi-level blue-green pointy roofings—it was an architectural KL masterpiece next to the Petronas twin towers!
Twin Towers
I remember my angel cab driver slash fan of the Philippines, Matt who said I should be at Petronas early in the morning if I wanted assurance to get tickets. The next day, although I arrived a bit more late than planned, my soul worked its charm on the universe and made me the last person for the day to be given a ticket. Me along with 2 American kids and 2 Aussie oldies—the latter 2 had to argue with the guards for our group, me the last (somehow I became part of that group) to be included in the last sky bridge tour schedule. One of the 2 Aussies later said he felt like he was fighting for his life doing that. And if it was your first-ever visit to KL, ‘fight for your life’ is what you needed to do just to not miss this marvel of a building that was the tallest in the world for a good 6-year period in modern history, and still continues to be the tallest twin towers to this day.
I remember my angel cab driver slash fan of the Philippines, Matt who said I should be at Petronas early in the morning if I wanted assurance to get tickets. The next day, although I arrived a bit more late than planned, my soul worked its charm on the universe and made me the last person for the day to be given a ticket. Me along with 2 American kids and 2 Aussie oldies—the latter 2 had to argue with the guards for our group, me the last (somehow I became part of that group) to be included in the last sky bridge tour schedule. One of the 2 Aussies later said he felt like he was fighting for his life doing that. And if it was your first-ever visit to KL, ‘fight for your life’ is what you needed to do just to not miss this marvel of a building that was the tallest in the world for a good 6-year period in modern history, and still continues to be the tallest twin towers to this day. The start of the tour was a 7-minute 3D film presentation of the tower and the Petronas company, which is Malaysia’s state-owned oil company. The vision was world-class, the mission was admirable at the very least, factoring in the environment, employee welfare and product quality into its quest for success. And for a moment, I felt proud to be Asian (despite coming from the Philippines which is quite isolated from the rest of Asia)... Asians represent!The film was also quite a treat to which the American behind me in the mini-theatre remarked “I’m surprised they didn’t charge for this, I would’ve paid for it.”
Sky Bridge
Marco, a French backpacker, was my brand new personal photographer for the sky bridge. I met him on the short flight (must’ve been on supersonic speed) on the elevator up to the 41st floor. The view was breathtaking as promised. I saw all the buildings I admired from my city tour, but this time from a bird’s eye view. Marco made me pose from several different points at the sky bridge, took versions of with, and without flash. But for some peculiar reason, he only took landscape style. Maybe he’s used to taking landscape photos from his French island home of New Caledoni. “That small island in the Pacific must have incredible landscape views,” I thought. I didn’t bother confirming nor exploring that with Marco since I got too busy minding his un-observance of the ‘Personal Space’ concept as he was making conversation, and putting his face right in front of mine. He was sooo French that way.
After several minutes, I did get my personal space back, saying goodbye to Marco on our landing at the science exhibit level on the ground floor. I went out to the mall area and made a mad dash to the toilet when I realized how badly I needed to pee. My mind must’ve held out that important bodily function to have a full uninterrupted experience at the sky bridge. Toilet relief achieved, I headed to the outside of the building and went looking for another personal photographer to take one of me with the towers in the background. The lucky boy was an Australian-Indian who was on KL lay-over for his flight back to Perth. His name was too out-of-this-world, it just flew out-of-my-memory too. (That’s a particular problem I maintain with both Indian and Thai names). Nevertheless he was the sweetest man, crunching his stomach muscles as he lowered his torso very close to the ground to get the highest part of the building in the frame with me. His best ‘framing’ effort was only till the skybridge, and that was perfectly fine.
Charmed Soul
My last few hours in KL I spent on the hop-on hop-off tour bus, re-listening to the tour guide recording (in case I might decide to write a story such as this one). But really, experiencing and learning about a new place gives me a certain high that neither shopping nor the dirty deed can ever substitute. And once again, on this 2-day KL tour, just like all my other domestic and international travels in the past, I’ve rediscovered how to rely on my charmed soul, and to believe that the universe always has a way of taking care of anyone, bringing out the goodness in all the strangers we meet in our travels.
From the hotel, I took a cab to KL Sentral station where, from my tour bus guide recording I learned, I can take a direct train to the KL International Airport (KLIA) for my flight back to Singapore. The first person (the first person!) I asked directions from when I got out of the cab, was a Malay 20-something boy in a sweet pink top. (That must’ve made him look more approachable.) This I’m-comfortable-enough-with-my-masculinity-to-wear-pink boy told me everything I needed to know in the 5minutes I spent at KL Sentral: (1) That my Low Cost Carrier (LCC) airport cannot be reached by train from KL Sentral, and that (2) I needed to go down one level to where my LCC bus is waiting to take all its passengers to the LCC airport.
Within 10 seconds after I found and boarded the bus, it drove out of the station. The stars were aligned for me in that brief period of time. The bus ride might have taken a while but when I caught sight of the Sepang Racing Circuit, it was well worth it. The world’s best motorsport and Malaysia has its own circuit for it—if that isn’t a sign of this country’s progress, what is?
Terima Kasih
Marco, a French backpacker, was my brand new personal photographer for the sky bridge. I met him on the short flight (must’ve been on supersonic speed) on the elevator up to the 41st floor. The view was breathtaking as promised. I saw all the buildings I admired from my city tour, but this time from a bird’s eye view. Marco made me pose from several different points at the sky bridge, took versions of with, and without flash. But for some peculiar reason, he only took landscape style. Maybe he’s used to taking landscape photos from his French island home of New Caledoni. “That small island in the Pacific must have incredible landscape views,” I thought. I didn’t bother confirming nor exploring that with Marco since I got too busy minding his un-observance of the ‘Personal Space’ concept as he was making conversation, and putting his face right in front of mine. He was sooo French that way.After several minutes, I did get my personal space back, saying goodbye to Marco on our landing at the science exhibit level on the ground floor. I went out to the mall area and made a mad dash to the toilet when I realized how badly I needed to pee. My mind must’ve held out that important bodily function to have a full uninterrupted experience at the sky bridge. Toilet relief achieved, I headed to the outside of the building and went looking for another personal photographer to take one of me with the towers in the background. The lucky boy was an Australian-Indian who was on KL lay-over for his flight back to Perth. His name was too out-of-this-world, it just flew out-of-my-memory too. (That’s a particular problem I maintain with both Indian and Thai names). Nevertheless he was the sweetest man, crunching his stomach muscles as he lowered his torso very close to the ground to get the highest part of the building in the frame with me. His best ‘framing’ effort was only till the skybridge, and that was perfectly fine.
Charmed Soul
My last few hours in KL I spent on the hop-on hop-off tour bus, re-listening to the tour guide recording (in case I might decide to write a story such as this one). But really, experiencing and learning about a new place gives me a certain high that neither shopping nor the dirty deed can ever substitute. And once again, on this 2-day KL tour, just like all my other domestic and international travels in the past, I’ve rediscovered how to rely on my charmed soul, and to believe that the universe always has a way of taking care of anyone, bringing out the goodness in all the strangers we meet in our travels.
From the hotel, I took a cab to KL Sentral station where, from my tour bus guide recording I learned, I can take a direct train to the KL International Airport (KLIA) for my flight back to Singapore. The first person (the first person!) I asked directions from when I got out of the cab, was a Malay 20-something boy in a sweet pink top. (That must’ve made him look more approachable.) This I’m-comfortable-enough-with-my-masculinity-to-wear-pink boy told me everything I needed to know in the 5minutes I spent at KL Sentral: (1) That my Low Cost Carrier (LCC) airport cannot be reached by train from KL Sentral, and that (2) I needed to go down one level to where my LCC bus is waiting to take all its passengers to the LCC airport.
Within 10 seconds after I found and boarded the bus, it drove out of the station. The stars were aligned for me in that brief period of time. The bus ride might have taken a while but when I caught sight of the Sepang Racing Circuit, it was well worth it. The world’s best motorsport and Malaysia has its own circuit for it—if that isn’t a sign of this country’s progress, what is?
Terima Kasih
My seatmate on the plane was a nice young Malaysian Muslim lady. (Whose name is at the tip of my tounge but I can’t quite figure out as of this article’s publish date. I’m sure it starts with an ‘H’ though.) I asked her a question I’ve been meaning to ask a Malaysian but never got around to. Several hours later and a few thousand feet above ground, I asked ‘H’ what ‘teremakase’ means.
It isn’t Japanese, even if that’s how it sounded from the tour bus recording. It’s spelled ‘Terima Kasih’ and it’s Malay for ‘Thank You.’
After this KL tour, I am bursting Terima Kasih’s from every inch of me. Terima Kasih to ‘H’ for telling me the word’s meaning. Terima kasih to everyone else from my trip: the ‘smiling’ friends, the personal photographers, the drivers, guides, the stranger that stood available to be asked for directions, the universe in general, a great big Terima Kasih to you. Until the next trip! Terimah Kasih and out.*************Felleen Donggay is a Pinoy in SG. Her first travel tips article about backpacking in the Philippines was published online in 2004. She worked as a Writer and Producer for a magazine show with the country’s leading TV network for 3 years until the intelligent show was ruthlessly cancelled by evil corporate executives to be replaced with a dramatic series in order to make more money. Felleen moved to Singapore in 2007 and currently works as a web Content Producer for an Asian networking site. She continues to travel and write on her spare time as an effort to retain her English-language sanity in this crazy Sing-lish world.
After this KL tour, I am bursting Terima Kasih’s from every inch of me. Terima Kasih to ‘H’ for telling me the word’s meaning. Terima kasih to everyone else from my trip: the ‘smiling’ friends, the personal photographers, the drivers, guides, the stranger that stood available to be asked for directions, the universe in general, a great big Terima Kasih to you. Until the next trip! Terimah Kasih and out.*************Felleen Donggay is a Pinoy in SG. Her first travel tips article about backpacking in the Philippines was published online in 2004. She worked as a Writer and Producer for a magazine show with the country’s leading TV network for 3 years until the intelligent show was ruthlessly cancelled by evil corporate executives to be replaced with a dramatic series in order to make more money. Felleen moved to Singapore in 2007 and currently works as a web Content Producer for an Asian networking site. She continues to travel and write on her spare time as an effort to retain her English-language sanity in this crazy Sing-lish world.
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