The cankles are worth it. Plus, 7s and 9s are not "sixes and sevens"
Jet leg is gonna happen. But on very long voyages it is tolerable. It's 0400 here, I've been awake for 3 hours. But, I slept for 7 before that, it's all good.
And, I don't fear the moonburn on my scalp!
80F and a pleasant dampness. A light breeze completes the comfort.
Let's pick up after my last sleep - the flight to Kuala Lumpur (aka KL).
Before this trip I'd taken to following the major Malaysian (country code MY, used hereafter) English language papers. The Star (KL) and the New Straits Times (Penang, I think). Just to get a feel for the place, people, and politics. It was generally reaffirming and positive. They're not super informative and let's call them 'patriotic.'
I saw a few letters to the editor re KUL also known as KLIA. HKH/HKIA (Hong Kong), SIN (Singapore), ICN (Seoul) are major international airports. 3 I truly have enjoyed. I think SYD and MEL are of simalar regional importance too and of the same level even if not in Asia. (Hey, I'm a strait away from Australnesia.) The locals seem to fear that KLIA is somehow not of that class. Bullshit. It's a clean, civil, orderly place. With fine shopping and food offerings. Even news stands. NRT sucks. KLIA is a good Airport.
It's on par or better than my visits to MAD (Madrid), FRA (Frankfurt), LHR in Europe. It's better than JFK, ORD, LAX, DFW, SEA, or SFO stateside.
When your comparison set is Singapore (mostly; geopolitical pride is very clearly involved), you're going to lose. Changi Airport is amazing. But, KLIA is absolutely world class. To my new destination's fine people I say, take a breath. Part of what makes SIN and HKIA so famous is their rich airlines. Malaysia Airlines (MH) is not as wealthy - that's reality. But MH+KUL is so much more pleasant than JL+NRT. Honestly. It's a delight.
I deplaned expecting the worst - especially after NRT. Then we walked a small bit - uh oh, is this as bad as YYZ (Toronto) where the walk is eternal? Nope. You walk to a bus. Uh-oh, is this like the old IAD (Washington Dulles) people movers or, worse, the remote gates used at LAX while TBIT was under renovation. NOPE. Zoom, zoom through the pre-dawn darkness to Customs.
An uncrowded customs hall at that. I had duly filled out my Malaysian Digital Arrival Card (MDAC) within 3 days of arrival and went straight to the 'autogate'. Fail - 'please see the customers officials'. Uh-oh, is this gonna be as bad as any US international arrival without Global entry. Not at all.
I had mis-entered a 7 on my passport number as a 9. A simple typo. A frequent event for me as you, dear reader, are surely well aware. 30 seconds and everything was cleared up. Easy peasy,lemon squeezy. After zero queuing no less. Things were not "at sixes and sevens" here. Even as a former British colony.
The MH Golden Lounge did not have a flashy exterior. The interior was simple, ample, clean, quiet, and friendly. YAY! And it just got better.
I was determined to eat local. No omelette bar for me. It was time to get my taste of Malaysia. I've dined in Indonesia, MY's colonial and linguistic cousin and neighbor, and enjoyed all it offered me. I've feasted in Singapore, MY's rich step sibling, to delight and excess. Now, it was time to try a third Australnesian cuisine (fourth, if the Phillipines qualifies.) [Do Bali and Sulawesi as non-Halal cultures/cuisines within Indonesia qualify separately? Oh, come on, Australian cuisine is not exciting!]
What to start with could not have been clearer - Nasi Lemak. "Greasy rice" is THE national dish here. Rice steamed with coconut milk (hence the 'greasy' but it is neither slimy nor unctuous) served with cucumbers, roasted peanuts, fried anchovies, and sambal (the Malay Archipelago's national chili paste condiment.) What the hell kind of combination is that?!?!? And, I do not generally like fish. Especially fishy fish.
Man, it rocked my world. The first bite was done aggressively - too much of the anchovies. Uh-oh? No way! A touch more of the other elements and I was hooked. Sweet, salty, spicy, crunchy, crisp, cool. Amazing stuff. Breakfast of the trip to be sure. (It's always available and ubiquitous but definitely considered a breakfast dish.) When the sun comes up and the open air restaurants open across the road, I'm going to have more. A lot more. It's amazing.
There was also some "Ayam Malaysian" if I recall the placard. "Ayam" is chicken. This was in a sweet and spicey sambal. Whoa! Pork is my go too protein, OINK! I have exceedingly low expectations of fowl to match my dislike of fish (ummm, Jim, why are you visiting an Islamic maritime nation?) I'm gonna be fine here.
Here's that mind blowing plate:
Smile. Smile. Nom nom!
Once again, the history of great dishes is written by the colonized and impoverished. Auguste Escoffier would scoff but be a damn fool. Tony Bourdain taught me well.
Time was up. I headed towards the gate. Conveniently, I found an ATM to get some MYR. Ringgit** means "jagged" or "serrated" in Bahasa* from the ridges on the edge of Portuguese, Dutch, and English coins in the (European) colonial days. (The Arabs were here first, longer, and still more influential.)
A quick (30min) and easy flight. Another empty row with legroom. No jetway, which means heat and humidity but no luggage delays. All was good.
Malaysia does not have Uber. And the taxis, like everywhere, are suspect. But for the good of mankind a Malaysian firm named Grab bought Uber's ASEAN operations. A fixed 30 MYR fare, a 1minute pickup time, a friendly driver, and all was well.
30 minutes and I was at the resort. Check in was hours away. So, we did some paperwork, they held my bags and I found my first Kopitam (coffee shop.) Kopi is not just may favorite hockey player (LAK11, GKG!!!) I'll be caffeinated just fine around these parts.
Peanut butter toast and Kopi Kampung. Kampung is "village" in Bahasa. But, it's more like"parrish" was used in Chicagoland in the 80s. "Where do you live? Oh, I'm up near St. Ita's" It has a "homeplace" element to it. MYR 11.50, ..., less than $3. Suck it, Starbucks!
15 MYR got me a mango frappe. Again, Starbucks can screw off. It was cool and sweet but lacking in authenticity. Delicious. Just not a bell ringer.
More paperwork, a brief exploration of the property (yes, that means I got lost), and I was in my room. A bit later exhaustion and sunburn made it time for a shower and sleep. Yep, in spite of so little sun, I still got burned. Ears and neck. Wear that hat! Nuclear fusion is hot and powerful
I'll tell you about that later. For now the skeeters seem to be enjoying the flesh of my very pale legs too much.
For the record: My feet still hurt and many muscles (especially legs and hips) are sore. But the sunburn was trivial in the end.
* Bahasa (literally "Language") is the name of the languages we call Malay and Indonesian. Bahasa Malayu is the official language here and not exactly the same as Indonesian. But very very similar. I hope to learn enough to travel comfortably in both countries.
** 1 Ringgit is broken own into 100 "Sens."
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