Suits You, Sir...

There is a British Ball being organised by the Chamber of Commerce and Ali has been able to get hold of a ticket for me, which means I need to get hold of a dinner suit. Apparently getting a made to measure decent quality suit is pretty cheap here so, (though I probably won't wear it very often) I decide to splash out and get one made: there's one (recommended) in the nearby Hartamas shopping centre so I head over there to get it sorted.

The tailor takes my measurements for the jacket and when he comes to my waistline, he measures it at 33 inches!! 

WHAT!?

I am mortified that I am going to have my first pair of made to measure trousers with a waistline that is the largest I have ever had. I try to tell him that he must be mistaken, but he just smiles and says "No mistake"

Time for action. No more crap food and gym everyday, forever.

Go Away, Stalker

I am very early for the return plane home, so I wander around the check-in area trying to find a place to sit. My flight is not showing where I can check in yet, so I buy a hot popiah snack – a sickly sweet stodgy pancake that had a very synthetic ham and cheese filling with what I think was salad cream – which was repulsively delicious. 

I hunt out the Fire Fly check in area, and was going to ask the chances of getting on the earlier flight, but the guy in front of me in the queue clearly had never been on an aeroplane before and was actually thinking about the check-in questions too much, in particular the one that goes “have you left your bag unattended?”

Twenty minutes later, after he had unpacked and repacked his cases, as he’s clearly forgotten if he’d packed any sharp objects, the desk next to him opens and they beckon me over. Unfortunately, it’s now too late to get onto an earlier flight, so I check in and now need to wait about an hour before I go.

I browse in various shops and then spy the one remaining seat in The Coffee Bean where I could sit until my flight gate is shown. I have the advantage of speed here, as I don’t shuffle my feet as I walk, so I make a dash for the seat and get there just before this other person and plonk myself down, ordering a coffee and a cake too. Lovely.

This guy behind me pipes up as I start to use my Mac, striking up a conversation asking if my laptop was a MacBook Pro, and then goes on to tell me about his work as a VW car fitter, asking if I thought VW cars were good (I told him I had a VW in the UK, and he was really impressed). So we chat for a bit, but then he stops the conversation abruptly in mid sentence and changes the subject completely and I am asking him to repeat what he said, being a bit confused and all, and I realise that he’s actually taken a phone call and is now chatting to someone else on the phone!

Loudly.

I mouth “bye” and wave him goodbye and move through customs and security to the departure area, as my flight gate is showing. The departures area is actually a whole load better than where I was just now, less crowded, fewer hoards of families etc and after buying some sweets and biscuits for the team (including some durian sweets as a joke – which no doubt are horrible) I wait for the flight. The loud talking VW fitter walks through and sits right next to me, and says “so, Chris, what time is your flight?”

How did he know my name? I never told him…

Then I realised that he must have been looking over my shoulder whilst we were in the Coffee Bean at what I was doing on the laptop – Facebook, blog etc: he must have super powered eyesight, being able to read my screen from the seat behind me. I felt a bit weird as he started to talk about some of the photos that were on my Facebook profile – and I was quite glad to get in line for my flight and leave the VW fitter / stalker behind.

Butterflies, Spices and Temples

I’m up in time for breakfast in the sleepy dining area of the hotel, and I try to get myself a coffee when this annoying hotel worker snapped at me “just sit” and I skulked off back to my seat whilst he made me a coffee, making a point of slamming the cup that I was going to use back in the rack.

He was a turd.

Anyway, breakfast over, I check the guidebook to what to do today, and realising that I can’t see everything, I decide on the Butterfly Farm, Kek Lok Si Temple and, if time, the Botanical Gardens and Penang Hill.

I grab a cab from the hotel and he asks me what my plans are for the day and suggests that I hire him for the day, at 35RM per hour. The receptionists in the hotel suggested that this was probably the most economical way of getting round the island, rather than taking individual cabs, so I go along with the idea and hire Hazlam as my driver for the day! First stop, the Butterfly Farm. He takes me along the coastal road, pointing out the sites along the way and stops briefly for me to take a look at the Wat Chayamangkalaram temple (a Thai one) with a huge Buddha inside.

From there, we head toward the Batu Ferringhi and onto the butterfly place. He does make a suggestion that we stop at the Spice Garden on the way, as it was worth seeing, and I spend a good hour wandering about the spice garden before rejoining my host. He had said it would take about 30 minutes, but he must have gone round on a motorbike.

The Butterfly Farm was cool, a bit like the one in the Lake Gardens, but a lot, hmm, livelier: last time I went to the one in the Lake Gardens, they were mostly lying on the floor dead, as I'd probably left it pretty much too late in the day. That, or they'd gorged themselves to death on pineapple.

We moved from there to the Botanical Gardens, which were pleasant enough, but not completely amazing: the best parts were the monkeys that came up to you trying to take stuff out of your hands. I was really lazy (well, I had been walking most of the weekend) and got on the train that took you round the Gardens, like an old lady, and kept looking the other way when people passed us walking, trying not to look into their eyes. Oh the shame...

From there we headed to the Kek Lok Si Temple, which was amazing: it was like a magic kingdom in the hills, with all these turrets, Chinese temples, brightly coloured and highly decorated pagodas poking their way through the treetops, all looked down upon by what has to be the biggest Buddha I have ever seen! I wander about the place for hours (whilst Hazlam waits for me...) and visit most of the temples there, admiring the Buddhas and other representations, making sure that I took my shoes off before entering these places of worship (though I must say that with the numbers of people walking throughout the place, I would have preferred to keep my shoes on).

I climb the Ban Po Pagoda, which has about 220 steps, with each floor a resting place for a different Buddha, and offers great views over the Temple Fairyland, plus out towards George Town. Just when I thought there was no more to explore, I see this sign pointing the way to the 'big Buddha via electric lif". The directions take you through a maze of a very tacky souvenir shop (I buy chopsticks) and take the electric lif up to the top of the temple area. It's an amazing site (alas my camera ran out of batteries, so I don't have any good photos).

Up here there is a restoration stall selling roof tiles that are going to be used to repair some of the temple roofs, and that you can pay to have your name written on for 30RM. I thought that’d be nice and buy myself a tile. I did notice that the pen that they use was a white board marker, so my name will appear of the temple roof for all of about a week, until the monsoon rains gradually wash it away. Oh well, it was only £6.

Talking of rain, it started to bucket down and this was my queue to leave this place and make my way back to the airport and home again. There is so much I didn't get a chance to see, and lots of things I want to come back and spend more time doing, so I'm sure will be back before long.

A Walk Round George Town

After my Cheong Fatt Tze tour, I venture out into George Tow and start by heading down Lebuh Leith (Leith Street) towards the sea and right in front of me is the Eastern and Oriental Hotel – looking suspiciously similar to Raffles Hotel in Singapore, which is not surprising seeing as it was built in pretty much the same era, and funnily enough is now run by the same company as Raffles. Along Lebuh Farquhar (Farquhar Street) I pass the Supreme Court and the Penang Art Museum and then down this little street called Green Hall, which is quite a contrast to the colonial style of buildings that I have just walked past.

I hear this bloody awful noise coming from one of the houses and I look up to see where the offending sound is coming from, and spy the outline of a man through a louvered window who is staring at me and “singing” to the world. He sounds in distress, and I quickly move on to the end of the street, which opens into a small park area, and sit amongst these local fishermen who find me somewhat intriguing as I take photos of the sea. Turning back on myself, I scurry past the wailing man in the window (who is still staring at me) and down the next road to the Esplanade. 

After a quick snack stop and rest overlooking the sea I head along the sea front, across Padang Kota Lama, Fort Cornwallis and to the Clock Tower (but not before being asked to pose with some locals for a few photos). It’s beginning to get a bit thundery, so I decide that a wander round the Fort would give me some shelter from the impending rain. It’s not actually that inspiring or interesting, with the only noteworthy thing being the Sri Rambai cannon, who’s mystical powers include that of enabling barren women to conceive if they lay flowers on it. 

Amazingly, the clouds just move away and I continue my wander around the George Town streets (where taxis and rickshaws keep slowing down to pick me up) and head down Lebuh Light (Light Street) to St George’s Church – which is covered up with awnings, presumably as it’s undergoing some renovation work. Maybe the Pope is planning to come here too…

I turn into Jalan Masjid Kapitan Kling (Pitt Street), which houses three major places of worship: the Hindu Sri Mariamman temple, the Chinese Persatuan Teo Chew temple and the Muslim Masjid Kapitan Kling mosque. There are others here too as this place is one of the town’s major roads – a very religious lot, it seems. Not so religious would be the multitudes of men that are sending me messages on Grindr… It’s amazing that in the day or so that I’ve been here I have got a whole load of messages from various men wanting to get into my pants!

It’s getting a bit darker now, not due to rain clouds, but it’s now getting towards early evening so I head on, and I wanted to go to Khoo Kongsi, a place where the Chinese go to worship their family ancestors and is supposed to be quite a spectacular palace. It was through this alleyway that had a small handwritten “Open 9 5” sign above it and as I tried to enter, this troll appeared and pointed to the sign, so alas, I didn’t get to see it which was a bit disappointing. Anyway, I head down the road and stumble across Lebuh Armenian (Armenian Street) where there were a load of Panangians laying out blankets on the ground and setting up stalls to get rid of what appeared to be all manner of crap which actually looked more like their belongings than anything else. The streets in this part are lovely, and it was a sharp contrast to those in Kuala Lumpur which all seem to have been razed and replaced with towering steel office blocks or glitzy condominiums.

I turn into Lebuh Chulia (Chulia Street), which is the central artery of Chinatown, and all the street food-vendors beginning to set up their stalls in preparation for the evening: it’s an amazingly bustling, dirty, hot place with some lovely smells. I am a bit tired after all my walking about (done the majority of George Town) and I fund a quiet bar, just off Chulia Street, and have a beer before heading back to the mansion for freshen up. This very nearly didn’t happen as only one of either of the entrances to the mansion is open at any time: on one, it said, “Entrance open between 7 am and 7 pm. Now Closed, please use the other entrance after 8 pm”, so I walk round to the other entrance, which is also closed, with a sign on it saying, “Entrance open between 8 pm and 6 am”. It was 7.30 pm, and it looks like neither entrance is open! I spy a guard and beckon him over, and after confirming that I am in the Hakka room, he lets me into one of the closed entrances.

I freshen up and head towards Lebuh Muntri (Muntri Street) as there is a restaurant recommended in the guide book: alas it’s closed, but I find a cool little bar / restaurant that is playing Abba, and have a few beers and some (what I think is) Tom Yam Soup. I get chatting to a guy in there with his kids and (eventually) his wife:  he was nice, extremely bad teeth, and was willing to be my guide for tomorrow. I wasn’t sure about that, not that Tony was weird or anything, but his teeth were very, VERY bad…

I head back to the hotel later and sleep behind my mosquito net

Chinese Luxury

An hour's flight north takes me to Penang, and a quick cab from the airport takes me to the Cheong Fatt Tze mansion to check in: I am in the Hakka Room on the first floor of the old house, which is beautiful. So, checked in, I am shown to the room and a brief tour of the place, and I quickly freshen up before joining the hour long tour of the mansion, which is pretty interesting, even if the tour guide is a little abrupt: she was talking about some of the mansion’s history and two of the people on the tour started talking to each other, so she stopped her spiel and asked if they were interested in the tour or not! That told them. Not long after that, someone wandered through the group and she stopped him and snapped “excuse me, are you with us, excuse me?”

He was a guest...

Aircrar-Safey

I'm on the way for a weekend away in Penang, on board a tiny plane. I have to stop myself from giggling (behind my hand, of course) when the hostess, who the size of a pencil (bitch), does the safety announcement. It reminds me of a Pam-Ann sketch:

(In one breath)

"Please-passenger-this-is-reminer-of-safey-on-aircrar-please-to-review-the-aircrar-safey-car-and-wan-remin-passenger-abou-brace-poseeon-when-hear-insrucion-"brace-brace!" an-you-mus-use-sea-bell-please-recommen-you-keep-sea-bell-fasen-all-time-in-case-of-unexpeck-turbulen-open sea-bell-lie-this-an-lock-lie-this-an-adjus-lie-this-passenger-mus-comply-wih-lighing-signs-and-crew-member-insrucions-here-is-location-of-emergensi-exi-and-emergensi-floor-lighing-in-eeven-of-drop-oxygen-mas-will-fall-from-above-use-like-this-do-yourself-before-chilren-or-anyone-else-life-bell-is-nearby-plea-fine-in-emergensi-passenger-no-o-smoke-on-boar-inclue-ing-toilet-and-no-tamper-wih-or-disable-lavaory-smoke-detecor-plea-pu-luggage-under-sea-or-in-up-comparmen-return-foldin-tray-and-sea-backs-uprigh-posion-an-turn-off-all-elecron-device-if-an-emergency-happen-once-airborne-fligh-attenan-are-train-calmly-brief-passenger-wih-emergensi-procedure-welcome-journey"

But being a seasoned traveller, I get the gist.  

I-City: LED Forest

Having spent a few hours in Putrajaya and having photographed practically all the buildings from all angles with varying degrees of sunlight (gradually fading), we head over towards Shah Alam, where there is, amongst other things, a park of LED trees in a place called I-City, which are best seen at dusk.

This is mixture of a weirdly beautiful and incredibly tacky place, but I am not entirely sure of what it is supposed to be doing: and I am damn sure that if I were a resident in this area, I’d absolutely hate LED anything! The best part is the LED Forest - but there are Christmas Grottos, twinkling streets, LED animal structures galore.


Dusk doesn’t last very long, so we decide to head off (also prompted by the fact that Charles had left his i-Phone in the car and I remembered the Smash and Grab incident from the other day) so, 100s of photographs heavier, we grab some dinner in an (air conditioned) shopping mall and head home after a really good Malaysia Day out.

Putrajaya - Replicas, Symmetry, Mosques and Monuments

I was quite thankful to get back to the car and was ready for some lunch, so (after airing the car to cool it down a bit) we head over to the Botanical Gardens in Putrajaya to get something to eat in a noodle café - my treat, as it's the least I can do for having Charles drive me about and be my personal tour guide - that's Malaysian hospitality for you.

After lunch we head to this place called Astaka, which is a (smaller scale) replica of the Moroccan temple. The detail on the architecture is amazing and the place is incredibly tranquil. Almost as soon as Charles said that it was amazing to have such a place to come for free, some guards stop us as we are wandering about the place, barefoot, as we haven’t bought a ticket.

It was not exactly obvious where we could actually buy tickets from, so we nodded, apologised and after promising to buy one, walked off. We didn’t buy a ticket, but instead took a few more photos and headed over to the main Putrajaya area, parked next to the Steel Mosque, and walked along the lake to the Millennium Monument to get a fantastic view of the Seri Wawasan Bridge. The architecture here is stunning, symmetrical, amazing.

We climb the Millennium Monument ramps, which is flanked by a timeline from the early 1400s to present(ish) day detailing the emergence and development of modern day Malaysia. Interestingly, some key facts are missing, as if they want to be obliterated from memory – for example, when Singapore were asked to leave the newly formed Federation of Malaya in 1963. Weirdly the actual date in 1957 when Malaysia gained independence from British rule is also missing (16 Sep, hence Malaysia Day today). From the top of the monument, if you look down onto the ramps, the structure looks like a hibiscus.

I am still surprised how quiet this place is - it's almost a waste of effort to create lovely open spaces when (nearly) all everyone seems to want to do is wander about in air conditioned shopping malls or drive about in their air conditioned cars. 

Flora, Hippos and Non-Existent Crocodiles

I have been getting to know a few locals and have and have made friends with this guy called Charles who shares a similar interest in photography, who suggests that we meet up for a day out to take photographs on Thursday as it’s (yet another) holiday: Malaysia Day. After learning that I like to photograph flowers, wildlife and buildings, he suggests making a trip to the Malaysian countryside, a newly built Government city with fantastic architecture and, time permitting, this place with a forest of LED trees!

First off - the countryside. We head out to the Paya Indah Wetlands about 50km from the city, between Kuala Lumpur and the airport. It used to be an old mining ground, but with the tin mining industry over, the land has been reclaimed as a nature reserve. We walk round the whole place (in the midday sun!) taking photos of the lakes, flora and fauna:  it's a bit of an odd place, apparently it was commissioned by the previous Prime Minister and was being designed as a premium nature reserve, complete with chalets for renting, cafes, a restaurant, hippos and crocodiles (!), but it was not something that the current PM has been particularly interested in and most of the investment has ceased and building work stopped. Consequently, it’s pretty much abandoned (which I like) but there is plenty of flora, loads of birds and dragonflies. Even the hippos made an appearance, but alas the crocodiles were were either not supplied before the PM lost interest, or were seeking shade from the searing sun.

I actually like the fact that it's deserted: a similar place in the UK, on a beautifully sunny public holiday, would be absolutely packed with families and screaming children.

Stupidly I have worn my Birkenstocks, which are absolutely the wrong shoes to wear out here, and I was quite conscious of snakes and other nasties biting my toes. Naturally no such thing happens at all, and the only thing that can be said is that they are so hot, they swell and I get a few blisters. 

The scenery is amazing and the place is lovely, but after about two hours, I am pretty exhausted - not from physical exertion, but from the length of time in the sun. I was a bit paranoid that the midday sun would evaporate my sun cream and burn my head, so I kept applying more and more to avoid the situation I was in a couple of years ago when I spent the same amount of time wandering about Kuala Lumpur and ended up with a head like a Chinese lantern.

Time for lunch...

Mont (n) - A High Hill; Mountain

It’s raining as I wake up this morning, so I decide that I am going to head into town for some shopping. Funnily enough, the minute I decide to do that and have a coffee, the weather breaks and it turns into a lovely fresh morning, so I change my plans and decide to go for a jog instead…

I head out towards the Hartamas shopping centre that I stumbled across earlier and then head through an area called Sri Hartamas and try to work out how to get over / under the Lebuhraya Sprint motorway to join the road back to my place to form a loop. I am mixing walking with running as it’s very hilly, I don’t really know where I am going, it is incredibly hot, there are a lot of hills and it is really hilly. I guess being hilly should not have been a surprise really - there is a clue in this area's name: Mont Kiara...

Anyway, after taking my life into my hands and running across 3 to 6 lanes of traffic, I actually manage to find the route back home OK and complete a circuit of about 7 km, in about an hour (I was walking some of it) and I really hope to improve on that drastically. 

I must set off earlier too, as by the time I reach home (literally dripping in sweat) it’s about 11.30 am and the sun is searing. I must have looked like a lunatic running outside up and down hills. I think the concierge security guards think I am bit mad.

I start to get a headache and I guess that I am completely dehydrated… Oops!

Central Market, Petaling Street Dodgems and Flesh Eating Fish

I spend most of the afternoon in the Lake Gardens and then hail a cab to Central Market. The driver quotes me 15RM (£3) as a flat price, and I asked him to use the meter instead: he refused, and I was really annoyed (probably because he thought I was tourist). Though the fare was pretty cheap, it was probably triple what it would have been had he used the meter... He said something about it being Hari Raya and no taxis would be on the meter today.


Anyway, I cant be bothered to argue and take the cab and he takes me on my way. I reluctantly part with my cash (no tip) and I wander about the various stalls in the pastel blue Art Deco Central Market (selling mostly overpriced stuff to tourists). Supposedly this market was revamped to rival Covent Garden. I can't see it myself - except if you count the stalls selling London teeshirts.

An hour or so later, I stumble across a crowd of people sitting around these large paddling pools with their feet dangling in: the Fish Therapy Pools. I’d read about these in the guidebook: you stick your feet into a tank of fish that live off dead skin. Sounds absolutely horrendous, but after watching for a while I thought that my feet were tired and hot enough to warrant a nibbling fish massage and so I paid my 5RM.


I was smiling to myself thinking that as soon as I put my feet in, all the fish would float to the top, dead, but I plunged them in nevertheless. The feeling was really weird – the fish swarmed towards my horrible flat, dead skin covered feet and seemed to be having a feast down there: it was a weird sensation, but they don’t actually bite with teeth, more suck / kiss your feet! I did have to keep moving my ankle out of the water as one particular therapist seemed to like sucking the open mosquito bite that I had there, which wasn’t very nice. I also imagined that this one would get too greedy and I'd end up with a stump instead of a foot.


10 minutes later, and grisly imaginations aside, I was done and I left there with lovely smooth feet!


From there, I walked to Petaling Street and have to dodge the street market traders trying to lure me into their stalls to buy their fake Gucci, Paul Smith or Rolex! It’s a bit like a computer game – as you avoid a seller on one side of the street, another one pops up in your way reaching out for your arms (and money) on the other.

After a while I am exhausted after the efforts, so was really happy to get lured into a Chinese food stall serving Tiger beer and dim sum.


Mmmmm.

Lake Gardens - Part II

Wake up reasonable early today, despite having quite a bit to drink last night, and hit the pool for 40 lengths, have a bit of a sunbathe, and then heading (back) into the Lake Gardens and the Orchid Park for some sun and photo taking. I had to cut the trip short yesterday due to the rain, so it was nice to wander in the heat and take some photos.

It's a lovely place, peaceful, quiet, clean. I then spot a sign detailing a multitude of things that you are not allowed to do, which probably explains things...Most are self explanatory, but I am not entirely sure what the top right one means: no deodorant? No wonder the park was empty.

Lake Gardens - Part 1

As part of not sitting on my arse all day, and it being such a lovely day today, I head out to the Lake Gardens for a stroll and to take some photos and I get a taxi there (takes about 10 minutes). It’s a lovely tranquil place and I wanted to spend the afternoon here, but unfortunately as I had left it to about 3 pm to actually head there, the humidity has built up and it feels very thunderous.

I am there for about 15 minutes when I feel the first drop of rain.

Uh-oh… there is usually little warning of a downpour and I was in the middle of a park, with little opportunity for shelter. I hurry towards the top end of the park, with the Hilton and Le Meridien hotels, to get some shelter and to find a taxi in the nearby Sentral Stesen (Central KL Train Station) and I forgot what hell it was trying to get from the Lake Gardens to the train station – the pavement just runs out and you have to cross what is essentially an eight-lane motorway and walk along a hard shoulder to get to the hotels. I went wrong and even the hard shoulder ran out!

Luckily it wasn’t that busy; even luckier there were a few taxis on the road; luckier still, one actually stopped for me on the motorway and it was a good job – a minute later there was a torrential downpour which I just narrowly escape.

Lake Gardens trip aborted!

And Yet Another Shopping Centre

The weather is amazing this morning and I want to go for a swim, but they are cleaning the pool today, so I head onto the gym – only to find that I can’t access it with my card, again, and on the door there is the sign that was there before I went to the UK: "Closed temporarily for work". Hmm – I will be having a(nother) word with the management company when I get a chance.

I cannot sit on the sofa all day again and so I decide to go for a walk around to look for a jogging route. I head out left from my place, in the direction of downtown Kuala Lumpur (though it would be impossible to get there, as there are no pavements anywhere). I did think I’d not get very far before the pavements would disappear into rubble, but they didn’t, and after about 15 minutes I stumbled across another Shopping Centre. How marvellous. 

This one is pretty good, and has a supermarket that I'll investigate as I think Cold Storage is quite expensive. I bought a couple of suction hook things for kitchen utensils and towels, and even though the shop assistant assured me that they would be stuck on the wall for 6 months, I suspected that they’d fall off after about a week, but even that was optimistic: the hook (holding nothing) fell off after about an hour; the hand towel-rail lasted a bit longer at two.

I forgot about mapping my jogging route...

Mad Media

I've been trying to work out which Radio stations to tune into and what newspapers to read and there are a few that are OK to either listen to, or read respectively. I am amused by the music selection that's played and question some of the newspaper articles / adverts that might be considered offensive or embarrass people from the West. 

Music: Over the last few days/weeks (either in taxis or at home) the sounds that have been played include: Village People's "YMCA", Gloria Gaynor's  "I Will Survive", Abba's "Dancing Queen", "Honey, Honey", "Chiquitita", Donna Summer's "I Feel Love", Hazel Dean's "Wherever I Go, Whatever I Do" and "Searching (Lookin' For Love)", Madonna's "La Isla Bonita - full disco Dolly HI-NRG version", Risk Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up", Right Said Fred's "I'm Too Sexy", The Nolan Sisters' "I'm in the Mood for Dancing", The Dooleys' "Wanted", Charlene's "(I've Been To Paradise But) I've Never Been to Me"... and so on.

For a country where homosexuality is illegal, i do find these choices rather suspect! 

In the last taxi that I got, however, the driver tuned into a hip hop station, and I nearly asked his to turn it off as it was driving me mad, and nowhere near as funny.

Newspaper Articles: There are many articles, on a regular basis, on a really pointless quest to finding poor English in the city (either pictures or anecdotes from bad teachers) and asking what is correct and they seem to get so worked up about the stupidest of things, for example:

"OH it's driving me mad, absolutely mad. Why, oh why do people insist on saying "I should of" when it is SO OBVIOUSLY wrong, and should be "I should have". Please, Please, PLEASE everyone try and get it right!"

Please, Please, PLEASE try and get a fucking life!

There was an article in the newspaper today about explaining what drug dealers, and other low lives, were – and it was completely ridiculous: it started by "setting the scene" and described your typical drug dealer, just so you could spot one. Apparently anyone wearing an open necked checked shirt, revealing a hairy chest, with those side burns that are "so closely cropped and come down below the ear" is a suspect and you should be aware. 

Great. I look like a drug dealer in a country that locks you up for at least 15 years for even thinking about drugs!

This warning also reminded me of another article asking everyone to be aware of beggars in KL "who look like foreigners and are probably putting their poverty on, as they will be dressed in clothes or shoes of someone who would have money. They are most likely Chinese." 

Dodgy Advertising: Today's paper featured a multitude of adverts for weight control products, as "everyone knows how it was disgusting to be fat". Literally, those words, and there were undertones that you should not be seen in public if you are overweight.

Another newspaper had an advert for laxatives featuring a man sitting on the loo with an expression on his face that was clearly of him straining to get one out. Opposite this man, on the next page, was the advert with the question "Do you sometimes wet yourself?" 

No shame!

Jetlag and Supermarket

I actually made it through the day to about 4 pm before my eyes started to close involuntarily. I held out as long as I could and then got a cab home in the evening, only to be reminded that I had no food in the flat. I did consider just getting a takeout, but thought better of it, and looking at my waistline in the mirror, decided to go for a short walk to Cold Storage and get a week’s shopping in.

Jet lag and supermarket shopping are not a very good combination and I remember dithering over a lot of things unnecessarily, like whether to have either the curried beef crisps or the anchovy flavoured maize snacks.

I chose neither in the end, and after putting half the stuff back that I had originally put in my trolley I made a final walk of shame to and from the Sin Section upstairs and trekked home.

I say trekked: it is a 10 minute walk, but felt like an hour and as I approached the Smash-N-Grab traffic lights I held my bags of wine and slimline tonic tighter, keeping an eye out for motorcycles.

Just An Evil Bald Man

Eh? What? Where the fuck am i? These were the first thoughts I had after the alarm woke me from what was a very crap sleep. I was absolutely shagged (not literally) and really didn’t want to go into the office today, but I was already a day later than I had planned to get back to work, as I'd miscalculated the timings of the flight, plus the delay at the airport getting out. Anyway, I drag myself there, looking like a zombie.

Ali invited me to lunch we went to a lovely Chinese place near the office in PJ and chatted about how things had been in the last two weeks, and as we were arriving back in the office, she dropped into conversation that the leadership team had decided to go in fancy dress to the second Annual Dinner as Movie Stars – and they had suggested that I go as Doctor Evil!

So that's how they see me. I see...a cackling bald evil man with a penchant for ugly cats.

Dr Evil... I'll give them Dr Evil.

Mwah-ha-haaaaaa!

Smashing

Got a taxi home from the airport, and just as we were pulled up at the traffic lights in Mont Kiara I noticed this motorbike weave in and out of the traffic to get to the front and as quick as a flash the guy riding as a passenger smashed the passenger window of the car next to us and snatched the bag that the girl had on the front seat and sped off. It was so quick and I was really shocked to see this (and immediately gathered up all my stuff on the back seat in my arms). 

The poor girl in the car was really distressed and crying, and I suggested to the taxi driver that we help and we drive slowly away from the lights, keeping an eye on her and she is on the phone to, I guess, the police. He was shaking his head and looking around for the motorbike, but they had long gone and to be honest, there was nothing really we could do. I had been warned by the big titted cultural trainer that this sort of thing could happen and I’ll follow her suggestion of getting spare keys cut and only carry photocopies of my ID with me and only carry the minimal cash/credit card etc. 

Tut.

Arrival

I am not quite sure what day it is, to be honest, as I get woken up by the air hostess with the most-ess (big Mary Queen) and some orange juice. At least he's slightly politer than the Japanese bitch who last night, just as I was settling down to sleep, shouted "YOUWANNWATER?" and threw a bottle of Pennine Spring water at me. I was slightly groggy and stiff, as I had sat in the same position for most of the 13 hour journey and dozed a couple of times whilst trying to watch a couple of crap films. 

It was not business class. 

Thankfully I think the mother behind me fed her grizzling child some Night Nurse trifle, as it seemed to sleep for the whole journey, plus the guy next to me didn’t want to engage in any conversation (perhaps the fact that as soon as he sat down I looked at him, reached for my iPod and put my headphones in pointedly sort of gave him the indication that I was a miserable bastard traveller.

I am worrying about going through immigration and make a detour to Starbucks to use their wifi and try to get all my official papers from my work email account, which was immensely easier than trying to get internet access at Heathrow. I also buy my return ticket home, with a flexible fare so I can (and probably will) change it.

This detour has taken about an hour by the time I have found Starbucks, sorted out information and ticket buying etc and now, of course, I am imagining my luggage going round on the carousel suspiciously on it’s own, containing knives, drug-smuggling-concealing coffee, and I am just waiting for a series of announcements about an abandoned bag and the sound of a small explosion. 

Anyway, I get through immigration no problem and I wonder if the UK end were being over zealous, and onto find my baggage. My flight wasn't showing on any of the carousels and I realised that our plane had landed 2 hours ago and all luggage had long been collected. Oh brilliant, I thought, but after wandering about the baggage hall for a while I saw my suitcase amongst the ‘abandoned-soon-to-be-exploded’ pile and retrieved it, walked as casually as I could through the Nothing to Declare channel, and out of the airport.

I'd made it!

Do I look Like (a) An Illegal Alien (b) I Travel Economy?

Woke up feeling like shit today after a rather alcoholic dinner party with the boys in SW16. Despite the hangover, I need to get things together for my flight later today. After Sunday Lunch in the pub of course with Mike, Rob and Kris.

I don’t want to get completely pissed but have a couple of drinks to make me drowsy for the flight tonight, as I am flying economy…

I get to Heathrow several hours too early, which is fine with me as I have this fear of missing flights, and try to check in, only to get stopped and immigration are alerted to my presence. Apparently as I have only a one-way ticket, with no visa, I am a suspect of some sort and I am pulled into the interviewing area for an interrogation. I was really not impressed: but all I needed to do was to prove that I was on assignment and had a place to go to in Malaysia. Well, that would have been OK had the Internet been working on my laptop properly (note, this is nothing to do with my Mac Book, but the shitting Heathrow wifi) 

Without this I was unable to show them my letter of assignment, or any correspondence confirming my working invite. Grr.

I then had the bright idea of using my iPhone to pull up the information on my work email account and then sending this information to myself, and then accessing my personal emails on one of the immigration officer’s PCs. Well that didn’t fucking work either as the GSK outlook web access server was not responding. I was getting really stressed with not able to prove that I had a job out in Malaysia and I could see me not being able to get the flight at all. What a complete fuck up 

• Because I haven't got my work visa sorted yet
• Because a lot of things take a lot of time to sort out.

The immigration officers could see I was getting agitated and so just said, “Well, as long as you can prove to the Malaysian immigration at the other end that you have the necessary documentation…” they would let me travel.

Oh, and buy a ticket back to the UK before going through immigration. Fucking great – I am furious with HR for dragging their feet over this process, though it’s probably not their fault in fairness, but I want to blame someone.

After completing my check-in (I have held everyone up by the way, as I left my luggage on the carousel during my interrogation) I help Kristian devour a bottle of rose wine before stomping though security and onto my journey.

I was dreading arriving in Malaysia: I had no access to the internet to sort out my proof of assignment and I just knew that the day I was having would end horrifically: how was I going to explain the kitchen knives and 4 kilograms of coffee in my luggage if I was not supposed to be in the country! Coffee is used to conceal drugs... I wonder what Malaysian prisons are like?

I was also dreading the flight as I was in economy, but I had pre-assigned my seat on the website and had chosen a seat all on it’s own t the back of the plane, so that should have been bearable, only it wasn’t: there was no seat at the back of the plane on it’s own, and I was sat next to someone after all. Just as I thought it couldn’t get any worse, a mother and very small grisly baby came and sat behind us.

Brilliant.

Sardegna - La Finale

After a long leisurely breakfast watching the other people in the hotel (there are some really odd people here – some big (false) boobed bimbo with her himbo vain boyfriend were just for starters, plus there was the couple from last night who were staring at me and Sarah as we sat outside drinking our prosecco. They were like something out of a 1973 bad ITV sitcom.

We had to check out today but not flying until tonight so we head out back toward the direction of Pula and Nora we went to on the first day to sit on the beach there and sit the day out in the sun. It was a lovely day – just a shame that I didn’t have a towel to lie on, but after it got too unbearable, we moved into the bar at the end of the beach for lunch and a few beers before heading back to Cagliari for a final whiz round the town before heading to the airport.

Stupidly me and Sarah had not printed out the boarding passes for our flights and had to queue up for ages in the Easy Jet queue with the rest of the riff raff: never again! In the queue to get on the plane I heard this officious sounding woman reminding us that we were only allowed 1 bag, including laptop bags and handbags, and I panicked a little bit and tried to stuff all my bags into my new carry on luggage, and then realised that I had probably broken either my glasses or nano!

We get back on time and we were so relieved to remember that Julia had organised a car to take us all home to our doors in relative luxury – and the end of a lovely break away - what a great weekend!

Sardegna - Ill Grande Freddo

We all made it to breakfast this morning (only Jules made it yesterday) and it was well worth it – fantastic Italian sausages, pancetta, fruit, coffee, juice, toast, cheese and pomodoro tomatoes – perfect start to the day. We head out after breakfast to Villasimius and try to go to another recommended eatery for lunch (but it’s closed) so we carry on along the Costa Rei which is another winding coastal road littered with beautiful sandy beaches all along it.

Wanting to get the sun, we stop at one of the first beaches and amazingly find a perfect spot right next to the beach bar/restaurant and hire the beach sombrero/beds for the day: bliss!

It’s a lovely day and we swim, bathe, eat, swim, bathe etc all day and feel totally relaxed. Perfect!

We headed back to Cagliari later on and drove back in the sunset, which was lovely, and arrived back at the hotel at about 9 pm, and we decided that it’d be better to eat in the hotel tonight rather than traipse into town and find something to eat there. I was OK with that, but I think Sarah wanted to get a pizza (not on the menu in the hotel - very weird, seeing as we were in the land of Pizza!) I shared a lobster with Julia, which was amazing and a few drinks later we headed up to bed