I arrive in London, then it's a tube journey and then a taxi ride and I'm at Monique's house. She shares a flat with her cousin Cleveland (we all call him Clee), and I've know them both for years. I haven't seen Cle for ages, so it's good to say hello again. Monique has cooked a meal for me and manages not to poison me. We talk rubbish for a while, before I settle down for a night on the sofa. Monique shows me where I can get an extra blanket if I'm too cold. I don't think I'll need it. The room is hotter than Brisbane!
I'm up early the next morning. I don't fly out until around 10pm, so I'll mooch around the capital for the day. But first, as Monique catches her bus into work, I sit down in a small cafe and have a leisurely breakfast. The food is normal standard for cooked breakfast, but the coffe is amazingly good. I have a refill, and then head into London.
The bus takes about an hour, which I spend looking out of the window and thinking of nothing much. I get off at Tottenham Court Road, hoping to find a phone that will allow me to use the Australian jobseeking websites. It's been frustrating having to stay close to internet cafes in Australia. I spent several weeks out there, but haven't seen as much as I would have liked. If I can find a phone that works with the websites, I can explore more and not be so dependent on Paddy's laptop. I go into the Easy Internet cafe, and search for phones that might do the job. I find something that looks promising, and start scouring the shops across the road, to see if I can get one. They all seem over-priced and I don't buy one, but I do buy some decent earphones for my MP3 player. The guy behind the counter says that, if I pay him cash, and am not bothered about the slightly damaged box or the guarantee, I can have them at less than half price. I'm no expert on earphones, but I do know that this is a bargain. Twenty pounds lighter, I'm back in the Easy internet cafe. I have a frustrating call to the VAT office - I spent the preveious days trying to do my VAT returns online but the website was experiencing difficulties. Today, in the Easy Internet cafe, I'm still unable to pay. I'll have to do that from Australia. Meanwhile, I try the new earbuds and am impressed.
I spend the rest of the day just killing time on Oxford Street and the surrounding area. The bus ride back to Monique's seems to take for ever. I collect my bags, then get a taxi to the tube, and on to Heathrow. There's plenty of construction work going on, so there's a fair amount of walking until I get to Terminal 3 departures. But I'm there in reasonable time, or so I think.
Arriving at the check-in lounge, I get my plane tickets out and stare at them in dismay. I'm 12 hours late for my flight. No matter how hard I stare at the numbers, and how much I think about ways in which I might be reading them incorrectly, the reality is there in black and white. I'm 12 hours late. While I was sitting on the bus into London this morning, my plane to Kuala Lumpur was flying out of London, probably right over my head.
In recent weeks I've looked at so many different flights (and booked a return flight from Australia to New Zealand) and that I've mixed up my am's and pm's. My heart sinks and, shame-faced, I go to the desk to explain what's happened. I can't kill off the ridiculous hope that the lady will say "It's fine sir. You are here in time. The ticket is confusing." Obviously, that's not the answer I get. I am in luck though. For a small administration fee, they can get me on the next flight to KL. I'll be in Brisbane a day later than planned, but that's not the end of the world. I let Paddy know that I'll be a day late, and then settle into the flight.
Arriving in KL airport, I book into the airport hotel, have a shower and a change of clothes, and take the unexpected opportunity to go into the centre and look at the Petronas Towers. The train from the airport is pristine, exactly on time, smooth, fast and quiet. Like a Swiss burglar, I imagine. It's night time, so there's nothing much to see outside the train, until we approach KL itself. The metropolis grows bigger and then I can see the Petronas towers. They're quite a distance away, but they shine very brightly. Then they're obscured again, I don't know by what. It could be trees or hedges or a wall. It could be anything - all I can see is darkness. I read through the little tourist map that I picked up at the airport.
Arriving in KL, I walk out into the night, and am hit by a wall of heat and humidity. It's pretty uncomfortable, and confusing too. I eventually get some instructions that I can follow, and walk through a bustling street market until I reach another station where I'll get the monorail into town. Armed with my little maps, I know where I'm going, so when I get on the monorail I have time to look at my surroundings instead of looking at station names. I see three European looking men at the other end of the carriage - they don't like they should have anything in common. They seem to be different ages, different tastes in clothing, different incomes. Knowing that I'm guessing a lot from their appearances, I still nevertheless have the feeling that they're there for reasons that would embarrass them if they were caught on a documentary about the seemy side of KL. Then, depressingly, I realise that people could be thinking exactly the same about me. Luckily, at that point I reach my stop, and my brain is occupied with trying to get to the towers. I don't have a lot of time, so I jump in a taxi and enjoy a stereotypically death-defying ride through traffic until we reach them. I realise now why they looked so bright from the train. They seem to be made of mirror-like metal, and they're brightly lit from all angles by powerful spotlights all the way up. I'm just too late to go inside, so I just walk around outside and look up at them, and take photos with my phone.
But I can't wait long. I have to get back and get on the train back to the hotel. A taxi driver asks if I want a ride anywhere. I decline - it's hot and humid but I want to at least walk through some of the city. My sense of direction, and my map, will see me through. But he's persistent.
"You sure? Come on. I take you to party. Girls!"
Ahhh, I see. I decline again, and just keep walking until his words are inaudible behind me. I'm walking past some bars that looked pretty lively as we drove past in the first taxi. I won't have time for a drink, but they look interesting inside. They suddenly become quite interesting outside too, as I'm approached by someone else offering to take me to a party. There'll be girls there too, apparently. Moving on, I receive similar offers from four different people in less than 100 metres. KL certainly is a party town! Thankfully leaving that road behind, I turn left up a quieter road, with the monorail (or perhaps an elevated road) above my head. Suddenly a woman moves towards me an makes me an offer too. Apparently she doesn't need to take me to a party. She can provide the party herself. I decline politely and move on. But in no time, a man pulls up next to me on a scooter, and offers to give me a lift to yet another party. Girls, lots of girls. "No thanks", I said, and he was instantly 50 metres up the road, making a similar offer to someone else. I was relieved to finally emerge back into the lights near one of the shopping arcades. Having made faster progress than I thought, I have a beer in a small bar, and try not to how much it just cost. Then it's back on the monorail where I stand under the air conditioning. The air is gratifyingly freezing, although I'll probably get pneumonia. Walking back through the market, I'm persuaded to try some local delicacy that looks like crispy fried chicken. I find that it really is crispy fried chicken, and it's almost unbelievably delicious.
I buy a bag of it and eat it on the train back to the airport. Getting off at the other end, it's back to my air-conditioned room, and a fantastic night's sleep.
The following morning, I'm up early but feeling good. Everything packed, wearing fresh clothes, I have breakfast surrounded by air hostesses from three or four different airlines. It's surprising to see some of them wolfing down bowls of chicken chow mein, egg fried rice etc. I have a few of the hot items (some scrambled egg and some bacon), but mainly I get stuck into loads of fruits that I've never seen before. Dragon fruit becomes my favourite ever, partly because of its appearance. Dark red peel, but inside the flesh is white with tiny black seeds. I've no idea what else it tastes like - I can't compare it with anything. Then I see some yellow dragon fruit, and that's amazing too. It does taste subtly different from the red, but they're both delicious. I must get some more from somewhere.
But not now. It's time to get back on the plane, and endure the final leg of the journey. One uneventful flight to Brisbane, one short car journey, and I'm finally back in Hawthorne - 24 hours after I should have arrived. Unsurprisingly it's fiercely hot again but, just like the first time, it's good to be here.
