KIm and I have driven into many cities. Actually to be accurate, Kim has driven while I try frantically to navigate either from a map or sat nav, desparately trying to marry what's on the page with what we see before us. New York, Chicago, New Orleans, Los Angeles are all memorable, Madrid is Kim's personal nemesis, a ghastly jumble of interchanges, flyovers and underpasses. On this trip driving into phuket has been memorable.  It's not so much the road but other users who have a total disregard for anything approaching common sense. 

When you're not sure where you are or where you're going, there is little more disconcertng than knowing that at any moment 3 or 4 mopeds will approach, driving in the wrong direction, on the pavement, with 4-5 riders on each, all of whom are texting, veer into the road without warning across your path, uturn in the middle of a 4 lane highway and pull in, in front of you.  Your instinct is of course to drive over them but, being the foreigner, and likley the only people within a 50 mile radius who has any form of insurance this isn't a wise move.

All this preamble is to set up a faultless and incident free drive into the hert of Kuala Lumpur. It's a stunning city! The Malay are building the place at a staggering rate and from the vantage point of the huge wide open freeways it looks incredibly modern with intersections looping away in all directions, and the skytrain arching over all, almost silently gliding in two circuits of the city.

Of course all the wheels come off once you're delivered into the centre as KL suffers from horrendous gridlock as the whole population, newly monied, takes to the road in their latest status symbol.  A benefit for us in that it slows the traffic, making our turns easier to spot and easier to nudge across the traffic where necessary, so that within a few hours of leaving the splendours of Frasers Hill we're being waved into the underground car park of our hotel.

Seeing we only picked the place this morning we're pretty pleased with our choice we just need to locate a good air bnb for the next couple of weeks so we can get a real feel for a city we enjoyed so much last time around.

The best way to learn about any city is to just walk out the door of the hotel and set of in whatever direction takes your fancy.  We quickly remember what we loved about KL.  For all the ultra modern sky scrapers, monorail-skytrain 10 storey high 24 hour neon advertising screens, bladerunner noise and confusion, at ground level, it hardly feels as if it's changed for decades.  You can get everything here from a palm leaf wrapped nasi-goreng from a one man bicycle transported basket to a 26 course suchi meal in a revolving 90th floor restaraunt.

We're checking out an air bnb building (air bnb doesn't like you to know the exact location of the buildings before you book but we have become great slueths!) It looks good and we're trying to arrange a viewing with the hosts and walking through some back streets when things start to look familiar, there's a "food street" walking market, a familiar intersection then, bugger me, the hotel we stayed in last time we were here!  Time has not been kind to Le Hotel Soliele.  A number of upper storey rooms have the windows open and tattered  curtains hang out, the lobby, which services reception via two escalators is deserted, the escalators, long unused, have carpets draped down them, the odd ornament on the stilled steps, massage touts haunt the pillars of the undercroft pick up drop off area. Looking around the area, which has sprouted multi (and I mean Multi!) storey blocks in every direction, we can only assume the end is nigh for the good old Soleile, a shame.   

Just up the road fro the Soleile, there used to be  bar and a couple of restaraunts.  Now the road is lined with them on either side for about a half a mile.  It's stinking hot and the temperature is rising fast, we've been walking for hours, it's around 6pm here and definately 9pm somewhere. A big, fat, tear of a raindrop rolls down the cheek of cloud, hits my back with real force and we duck under the awning of the Rock Bottom bar, Happy Hour!! shout the staff as they roll the awning down to sheild the us and our fellow customers.  We're purched on tall stools at huge beer barrel tables with ice cold tiger beers when a series of explosive thunder claps and blinding lightening herald the arrival of a monumental down pour.

This stuff is better than tv, I simply cannot convey the force of the rain, the road outside becomes a torrent, and I mean a kitty drowning, up to the bumpers torrent in seconds, the thunder is so constant the claps appear to overlap, it's just a magnificent dsiplay of natures fury and power.  We have a great time watching our less fortunate brethren getting soaked to the skin, cars with windscreen wipers neutralised by the force of the downpour sit gridlocked, lights trying to penetrate the torrent that pours as if from a tap.

By another weird coincidence  this mirrors our first arrival in KL back in 2008.  We were in China town, a thunder clap and lightening strike on a building directly above our heads had just stopped everything dead, frozen in the flash, stunned by the blast and into that split second of silence.....my phone rings.

It's my sister Janet.

"Ullo John"

"er, allo Jan"

"where are you"

"we're in Kuala Lumpur Jan"

 "Are you john? (aside) Pete, Pete, our john's in....where did you say you were john?"

"Kula Lumpur"

"Our john's in Kuala Lumpur pete, is it nice there our john?"

"I think we nearly just got struck by lightening jan"

"Did you john, what's the weather like in.......... where was it you said you were?"

"Kuala Lumpur Jan, and it's thundering"

"You need plenty of iron john, they say that helps, purple sprouting brocoli has iron doesn't it Pete? Pete, does purple sprouting broccoli have iron. Try some purple sprouting broccoli john, it's packed full of iron, it's broccoli, but purple, I'm sure they'll have it there if you ask.  You want broccoli, only sprouting...........and purple.  Anyway, take care, love to Kim".......click.

We've managed  to arrange to meet two owners of air bnbs which are relatively close to each other, both in fantsatic central locations.  We take an instant dislike to the first guy, a whinging nose manipulator who sneezes all over us in the lift on the way up to the appartment. The flat is miniscule, there are leaks from the washing machine and in the bathroom from the cistern, he's unconcerned...."Think of the price" he says, Hmmmmmmmn we think.

The next place is stunning.  Our host, a lively young bloke, full of local info, happy to direct us to restaraunts and all points of interest is a real anglophile and happy to chat as he shows us to the fifth floor olympic sized pool, the 6th floor gym, cinema, putting green, barbeque area, chess room, the 42nd floor open air jacuzzi, and a 33rd floor 1 bed appartment that looks directly at the Petronas Towers to the right and the KL tower to the left, with rest of KL spread out like a relief map. We'll move in tomorrow!

To celebrate we go to the walking market for some Marmite ribs....Here's a funny thing, Marmite is a mystery most places in the world, but our oriental host tells us it's a key ingredient in a lot of Malay street cooking, treasured for that Umami hit.....some barbequed shrimp and stir fried veggies...lovely.  Then onto a bar to watch England pound Panama, a perfect day, so glad to spend it with you.

For my money the Petronas towers are the most magnificent building I have ever seen. As we walk across KLCC park and over the bridge, to our right the park with it's incredible fountains, the breaching whale sculpture, the huge splash pools all act as an appetiser.  At the apex of the bridge's arch the Towers come into full view on the left, towering over the concourse restauraunts and bars. The whole 88 floor 450 meter+ structure glitters in the sun.  At night it's lit looking for all the world as if it's carved from crystal, up close it's staggering in it's scale, from a distance it lords it over a magnificent city scape.  It really is an amazing achievement of a building.  Needless to say the views from the top floor viewing gallery are  jaw dropping.

We've planned it so that the same night we track across town to the KLtower and it's revolving restaraunt. It only has 6 floors but the one with the restaraunt is around 350 meters up! It's still in the top 10 tallest free standing towers in the world and the views out of the retsaraunt window are stunning.  We've blagged the 6:30 sitting so get the opportunity for the daylight view, the sunset and the nightscape, it's really magical.  It's a buffet restaraunt so no prizes for quality but just so much choice, from oysters through sushi to most curries you would care to mention.  The price tag is eye watering, particularly in a town where you can get a good meal for a tenner including beers but overall it's a must do while here.

Back at the appartment we luxuriate in the 42nd floor jacuzzi and soak up the incredible views. 

Jalan Alore street food nightmarket as the name suggests lines each side of Jalan Alore. (Alore Street for want of better  translation) Jalan Alore runs for about half a mile, it's pretty much closed to traffice everynight and lined with restaraunts which spill out into the road on either side until they almost meet in the middle. They're divided by a narrow track which is in turn encroached upon by small one man or family stalls selling one off specialities.

As you approach Jalan Alore from the top end (Bukit Bintang) you first need to negotiate the massage parlour touts, mostly they're selling foot massage, but the skirt lengths suggest the foot massage will have a happy ending a couple of feet south of the feet, if you get my drift. Billows of charcoal smoke lit by halogen lamps and the hubbub of a street packed cheek by jowel with vendors and punters lets you know you're about to turn into the walking market.

The nose gets it first as clustered  at the top of the street are the durian stalls.  Durian or stink fruit is outlawed on most, if not all the worlds airlines, prominent "No Durian" signs are in every hotel.  The stuff stinks, but Thais, Malays and Chinese adore the flavour of the stuff.  I've tried a bit but despite holding my breath got a wiff of the stuff, once it's in the snoz you just can't get it out, bloody ghastly. The stink of it is everywhere as you turn into the street and you ankle past these stalls asap and find yourself in a channel lined by around a hundred or so chinese seafood outlets.

In amongst the patio tables and chairs touts doubling as waiters move trays of crab, fish, lobster around while trying to entice customers into their establishments.  Each place has a share of sidewalk and road, then an area of restaraunt proper backed by the kitchens, the sides of each place are lined with aquaria filled with the next course, and huge barbeques over which smoke and drip huge skewers of prawns, ducks, chicken quarters, legs, wings along with beef and pork ribs. Closer to the walkway the specialty outlets grill pretty much every bit of any creature you'd care to mention, here you can also get your icecream, sweet filled pancakes, palm leaves full of mango and sticky rice, doughnut concoctions etc.  Now the smell of the durian's behind us it just smells amazing, there's a "Definately not Hallal" stall which grills huge racks of pork ribs coated  in sticky sauce, our favourite place coats theirs in a marmite sauce that is finger, forearm and elbow licking good! The noise and bustle is amazing and just sitting here and watching it all go in with an ice cold tiger beer is an evenings entertainment in itself.

Talking of entertainment, it's provided in Jalan Alore by a couple of ladies. Wheel chair bound, they trundle the length of the street in modified battery powered chairs, each of which has been modified to accept what looks like a guitar combo amplifier which rests where the ladies legs would otherwise be.  A microphone stand has been attached to the chairs and they roar out kareoke to cacophonous, distorted backing tracks which boom out of the amplifiers. There is no attempt on their parts to even acknowledge each other, rather they start their journey at opposite ends of the street and rumble bumpily toward one another hollering away to web web wine on the left and Take me home countwy wodes on the other.  I watch as they meet in the middle and studiously ignore one another and can't help but think about the fortitude of spirit that brings these ladies here night after night to go through this, almost drowned in the crushing crowd, gawked at by kid, tripped over as the crowds get thicker, trying to get heard such that they'll make, what? a few quid in their collection tins? My over riding feeling? a somewhat selfish, you lucky bastard.

About three quarters down the street there's a lovely seafood outlet where we sit and watch the rats on the awning opposite.  A scaffold and corrugated  plastic arrangement punctured by trees and phone wires, very cheap motel accomodation (rent by day, by hour, by minute!!!) oiverlooks it.  Doubtless rubbish gets chucked out the window and the rats proliferate.  Still we munch happily on a beautifully barbequed fish while Kim films it to outrage Facebook with.

Here the street is intersected by a number of back alleys, best we don't venture too far in these although we'll need to traverse a couple further down the road, rubbish accumulates at the corners and the open drains get clogged and kick up a stink, there are very large rats here and the odd "massage" offer which we ignore as despite sounding like a young Suzie Wong, likely enough you'll end up with something looking like Bernard Breslaw out of carry on up the Khyber.

At the far end of the market there's a stall which has a whole sheep slowly turning on a spit over charcoal.  No matter how much you've eaten already it's impossible (unless you're a seed eater) not to feel a little hungry and get drawn to this so suculent does it look and smell. Ever been to a hog roast, queued up, got to the front and found them trying to eke the "hog" out to feed the last 50 people such that you get a wafer of pork and a scrap of crackling? Not here, the lamb rotates slowly over the heat, next to it a scales and a price per KG sign, you point to the bits you want, they slice away till it looks like you have enough, and you pay for what's on the scale, no more no less, it comes with a flat bread and some minty yoghurt...

Down at the far end of the street we'll come to the dodgy bit, the odd guy crashed on the sidewalk, shirtless, slumped, lost somewhere and some beggars.  Out here the completely destitute need to use whatever they have to make a buck, the hopelessly crippled do so, uncensored, raw, life minus society.  One guy sits shirtless so that you can see where he has been burned such that the skin of one side of his body has fused into one scar from where his arms should be and across his chest, to his face also burnt featureless, he has an old starbucks cup in front of him with a couple of coins in.  Starbucks, these are the multi millionairs who hide their profits away so they don't have to pay taxes right?

Theresa and co will tell you there's no such thing as society so you don't need taxes. (except when they're telling you anything else they think you want to hear) I suppose if you're born at the right address you don't need society, Mr Rees Mogg has always had a butler to knock the top off his googy egg, what does he need society for?  If you think we don't need society, a quick trip out here should do you.

Back in the appartment and we've been trying all night to contact our dear friend Lynn whose birthday it is today. Finally we get a connection and can see Lynn on our whatsapp sitting in her lovely garden on a hot summers day in England with a cold beer. I've rarely felt so homesick or so acutely the distance between us and all our family and dear friends. We sing happy birthday, two suddenly very homesick people sending as much love as we can through a bloody phone.  Kim takes the phone and Lynn on a tour of the flat....

"We're going to stay here two weeks, it's got really tiring travelling all the time...what are you doing tonite?....small talk...............this is our little kitchen......"

I'm gazing out of the window, the KLtower is lit like crystal while the revolving restaraunt section rainbows through colour changes, around the circumference...

"This is our bedroom, it's a bit small but really comfy"......

From top to bottom the sphere of the tower now strobes through colour changes. Just to the right the Petronas glitters like a swarovsky ornament, the light of it illuminates some low clouds....

"and look at this, this is the bathroom"

The bathroom is cutely hidden behind fake wardrobe doors...

"Isn't it clever?".....

As I look out, between the Petronas and KL towers, the room is reflected back in the appartment window, like a perfect rectangle of light and life hanging in a dark patch of sky, 

I catch my eye looking back at me from the extraordinary KL nightscape.... 

"it's like it's hidden away in the wardrobe, it's lovely isn't it?"....

All I can think is....

"Oh we're missing you all soooo much"

You Lucky Lucky Bastard.

I can't remember if I've mentioned Grab.  Grab is Malaysian for Uber. It's not fool proof and here in KL when traffic is more often than not totally grid locked the waiting time has grown considerably and the quality of the drivers reduced in like measure. We've spent a few days doing all the stuff tourists do in KL getting out to Chinatown going to Merdeka to see the old colonial buildings complete with village square, complete with cricket pitch.  On out to the huge city park and it's amazing bird park, back via the huge awe inspiring city mosque, then the floating mosque awash in coloured fountains.  Bluffing our way home through the sky train system, going for a meal at the ship, our first taste of western food..... LAMBCHOPS!!! for god knows how long. Out to the royal palace, trying to get a grab back...

"Can you tell me where you are?"

"We're at the Royal Palace"

"Whats that?"

"It's the Royal Palace, where your Royals live"

"Where is it?"

In Britain you get in a cab, within five minutes you'll be talking about the weather.  Here, it's food.  It's a national obsession, where you've eaten, what you ate, where you will eat later and what you will have is re run in every single cab ride we take.  What you eat tends to define you for the Malay.

"The China man, he crazy, if it have leg, or if it breath, he eat! Him crazy!!............. China man have daughter too many, him steam and eat!!! .....Him crazy the china man, when I go chinese I say ...Bring me fish, only way you know what you eat............. don't eat what chinaman eat, him bloody crazy! I tell you that man, ....Here we are, 5 ringgitts please. 

Anyway this obsession means it's unlikley you'll ever get served anything that's not tasty.  As food is everywhere anyone who serves anything that's not pretty good just doesn't survive.  The only crap you'll find is in Starbucks, KFC and co who are here presumably to serve American tourists who can't survive a fortnight without ingesting some steroid packed shit. (Or voting for one)

Just up the road from our appartment is a "Mamak".  A Mamak is a 24 hr seven day a week Tandoori joint.....Yep tandoori 24-7.  Whenever you feel the need for some grilled chickern morning noon or night these boys are here.  The place is formed around  an "island" servery which runs from fried chicken through curries and veggies to fresh fruit and frozen coconuts.  At the outside corner perched halfway across the sidewalk is a four and a half foot tall tandoor.  Next to it a hand written placard....

"AWAS!!" (beware!!) HAUWT!! (Work it out)

Health and safety would have a field day here, a roasting hot oven actually on the pavement!  How will we stop little johnny licking it? or little Suzie hugging it?

Kim and I stop by a few nights, the wonderfully hospitable guys talk us through the ordering process the first time, Point, hold up fingers for how many, sit and wait....Next time it's

"Hello Boss, usual??"

Next to the oven is a glass case full of spits, end to end with chicken joints marinaded crimson, next to that a large steel bowl in which is proving a huge ball of Naan dough, and two bowls of sauce, one a chickpea dahl (just deliscious) the other mint and garlic. 

One fried chicken, one Tandoor, one dahl, one sauce, a plain naan (you can have whetever you want in it should you wish) a tomato and cucumber salad.  The chicken skewers propped in the coals, the naan expertly snapped of the dough-ball, neaded, pressed and stuck to the side of the oven, smelling amazing, The naans here don't have that "duvet consistency" we're used to in freezer microwave land, impossibly tasty, easy to line with dahl, wrap your chicken, salad, coat with mint sauce, eat in with coffee, 17 ringitts, takeway without coffee 15 ringitts.  We're getting just over 5 ringgitts to the pound!