I failed miserably to bother learning any of the Malay language before arriving. Fortunately it turns out that Malay for hello is 'hi', which is handy. But most locals who interact with tourists start speaking pretty good English as soon as they see a white face anyway.
I've had some interesting conversations with taxi drivers. One was a Muslim and he asked me if there were many Muslims back in England. I told him that there were, and that indeed we had plenty of mosques and halal food stores. I'm not sure he believed me on the latter point. Also, he had heard about Tony Blair reading the Koran and this amused him - why would you want to read about someone else's religion? For his own part, he found the Koran difficult to read because he had only a rudimentary knowledge of Arabic and translations were frowned upon.
Another driver was of Chinese origin, and spoke disparagingly of his Muslim countrymen. He said he preferred to go on holiday to Thailand, where things were cheaper and there were fewer rules. Here in Malaysia, he said, it was difficult to get cheap alcohol because of the Muslims, and also the prostitutes were too expensive because of the protection money they had to pay. I made sympathetic noises.
Having slummed it somewhat of late, I decided to treat myself to one night in a 5-star hotel, where I had a 'deluxe apartment', not that the kitchen or dressing room or either of the two big flat-screen TVs were much use to me. It was very nice though.
Unfortunately I was to have one last reminder of the Clash Of Civilisations before departing: I failed to anticipate, from the preponderance of veils and headscarves among the hotel's female guests, that the breakfast menu would be entirely halal. No pig-derived products at all. No bacon, no sausage, no black pudding. And thus it was that my eagerly-anticipated full cooked breakfast, having made only the most half-hearted of beginnings with some rather watery baked beans, and then rallied briefly with the addition of an omelette, expired altogether in a limp morass of papaya and watermelon. To add insult to injury, they offered pretend 'sausages' made from reformed chicken. Is nothing sacred?
The massage/spa service at that hotel was called Telana Bunga. I hope this doesn't cause any misunderstandings if Signor Berlusconi drops in.
 |
| Sultan Abdul Samad Building, seen from Selangor Cricket Club. Petronas Towers just visible in the distance. |
 |
| One can't stay in hostels one's whole life. |
 |
| Impressive pair, magnificent erection, etc etc etc |
 |
| Petronas Towers, seen from the top floor penthouse of my hotel. I'm not sure I was meant to be there, but the door was open and nobody was around. |
