Into The Embassy

It was Monday morning and I had no idea it was until I just looked at the calendar just as I write this entry. That shows how much we take note of the days now, and it’ll be weird getting back into the Monday to Friday/Sunday routine. But that will be 2013 before that happens! We had had to deal with a group of rambunctious loud-mouths that had returned to the hotel in the early hours of the morning, well, we didn’t have to deal with them, but they were very loud and kept us awake for some amount of time. The hotel had returned our laundry, for a measly RM5 (£1) per kilo, all clean and folded for us, but I had to do some other bits and pieces as I didn’t want them getting lost or pinched. After I had hung up (as best I could) the hand-washing near to the AC unit we re-traced our steps from the day before to get back to the British Consulate.

We weren’t entirely sure what we would find within, and I had forgotten my passport, but we were there anyway and pretty sure that we would be able to get in, even if we needed to charm our way through. Once we had got our point across that we didn’t need to apply for a UK visa and that we were from the UK, they let us in, once they had thoroughly inspected our UK driving licenses. We then had to explain to another guard exactly the same story; we wanted to ask advice on how to get hold of visas for the countries we were to be visiting in the next 3 months. We then needed to get through security – a metal detector around the body and leaving our bags with the guards. And that was it……we were in! It felt very strange, like we were ambassadors for our country, and to some degree we were. I think we both felt a little nervous of what may happen as you hear stories of things going wrong and people being accused of anything and everything. We headed inside and the lady behind the glass was very good and offered us as much advice as she could give. Basically, we couldn’t do anything now, or even in KL really, as we would need to visit the embassies of the respective countries in whichever country we would be in for long enough for the application to go through – Bangkok would be our Visa-application-country.

With that in mind we sneaked back to the hotel to do some investigation on visas and how to basically finish our last leg of our trip. But it wasn’t long before we got a few answers and allowed ourselves to leave the Mayview Glory Hotel and carry on with our day. We wandered into the unknown Chinatown and down the famous (apparently) Petaling Street market. James was trying to sniff out a new shirt since “old whitey” was dying – having survived the leakage of blue dye from my sleep-sheet in Cairns and the consequential bleaching to get it back to its “whiteful” state, it had opened up a big hole as it had rubbed against the wallet chain that was attached to his shirts/jeans. But the only ones available were either “going out” shirts or short-sleeved ones, and these just would not do. We also noticed a lot of people selling iPhone cases. But this was nothing new. Everyone in Asia (so far) is selling these things, and everyone has a slightly different one to everyone else.

Petaling Market

We left the market empty-handed and as we headed west towards the National Monument and suchlike I looked at James, mid-conversation, and saw a streak of lightning light up the sky just behind his left ear. Oh dear. That wasn’t a good sign for the day, but at least I had my raincoat. Unfortunately, James couldn’t say the same. As the thunder roared overhead we pressed on into the unknown, with James navigating us from the continuously-degrading map. It wasn’t long before we came across the old train station (that we would’ve arrived into had they not moved it to KL Sentral) and it was a beautiful building, probably more aesthetic than functional. After using the toilets, and James noting, half with glee and half with dread, that they had squat toilets in some of the cubicles, we took to wandering round the station. It wasn’t long before a girl came up to us with a map in her hand asking for directions. It seemed that she, and her friend who had now also joined her, wanted to go to the National Mosque, which was exactly where we were heading. We offered for them to join us and we all walked in the vague direction we hoped that it was. The map wasn’t great and the girls (from China, on a 10 day tour) couldn’t make heads nor tails of it. One of the girls spoke good English, but the other struggled somewhat, but they had been to Chaing Mai in Thailand which is one of the places we will be heading to later in our trip.

Looking for the National Mosque with the Chinese girls

We found the National Mosque soon after setting off and had a quick wander round, but were unable to get in as it was closed to non-Muslims til 3pm. The girls wanted to go to the Islamic Museum nearby and we were heading to the National Monument in the park further west, so we went our separate ways and said that we might meet them back at the Mosque after 3pm. The National Monument was stunning, and looked out across the city. Thankfully the thunder that had continued to rumble on in the background had not brought with it any rain as we headed through the park and into the Deer Park. There were Deer, Mouse-deer and for some reason cockerels in the Deer Park, but it was pretty small and unimpressive. The spots of rain appearing on the road meant it was time for us to leave so we walked back to the hotel and waited out the rain.

The National Monument

I had done some research into local restaurants near the hotel so we made our way down the road to where all the locals fed themselves at night. It was a great site, but they all seemed pretty ropey for us Westerners so we found the cleanest, busiest one we could and settled in for a nice spot of grub. Again, the beer was expensive compared to the food, but the whole dinner for two cost about £13, which wasn’t bad at all. We also had a view of the Petronas Towers, and the KL Tower was just out of sight behind a building, but we had seen that on the way in anyway.

The Dragon View restaurant

After dinner we went back to our local convenience store and grabbed another small bottle of brandy, another bottle of Pepsi and this time, a can of Kickapoo. The lady put all the items in a thin carrier bag and I thanked her before leaving the shop. Outside I showed James the can of Kickapoo and we chuckled over the name. The brandy and the Pepsi were still in the carrier bag and as I went to put the Kickapoo back into the bag I realised that the bag was not very strong. I felt the bag slipping from my hand. Then I realised that it wasn’t slipping, but tearing. Before I had the chance to grab it with my left hand (Kickapoo still within) or even stick out a foot to cushion the drop, the bag hit the pavement. I heard the thud. There seemed to be no leakage, but as I picked up the bag I heard the crunching of glass on glass and smelt the familiar brandy smell. That was one bottle of brandy I wouldn’t be drinking. So I had to go right back into the shop and buy another bottle; who knows what the shopkeepers thought of me!

Kickapoo

Thankfully it wasn’t an expensive mistake and that “shiraz” moment (as James calls them) still left a slightly bitter taste in my mouth, but that was soon washed away by the warm brandy and Pepsi from the hotel tumbler.