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So I finished my last blog having set off by plane to kuala lumpar from Phuket at half 9 at night. I went to get on the plane at gate 6 (funny how numbers stick with you), handed the flight attendant my ticket and passport just to find the daft passport control officer had remembered to stamp my passport but not my visa slip. Having legged it back to the passport control through the bag check, yet again, I barged though the gate doors, passport in hand, sprinted to the plane that was just closing its doors, and settled into my seat...just to find I was missing something. My waist money belt was gone.
I instantly went into panic mode. I surely must have it in a bag somewhere! But no, it was definitely gone. I threw myself at the poor air hostess who informed me the doors were already shut and the bridge to the plane had already been detached. She radioed to the airport ground floor team who said they had not seen it. With a couple of hundred pounds worth of money in it and 4 credit cards, I wasn't really surprised. Sat there on the flight in the dead of night I felt completely helpless. I had absolutely no money and no way of getting money once i was there. Once i landed at the airport i would didn't have the ability to get anywhere or do anything. The silver lining was that i still had my passport. The pretty hostess kept telling me things like, if it was in Malaysia they would have handed it in straight away, but not in Thailand! This did not help how I was feeling in the slightest.
The flight was practically empty being a late one, but in the commotion locals were still coming up to me asking if I was ok. One man brought me a meal and another bought me a cup of tea. By the end of the flight I had 3 phone numbers for people to stay with and £40 worth of Malaysian riggit that kind people had donated to me. People literally just came up to me and handed me money without a word and walked off again. Even the captain at the end of the flight assisted me with all the paperwork and phone calls until 3 in the morning. Despite all that happened I was so touched by the kindness these strangers had shown me. It truly put my faith back into humanity.
So after yelling at a few lazy airport staff and filled in what seemed like an endless amount of paperwork, I was still stuck with the fact the I had no money. Then an Australian lady who had comforted me during the flight mentioned the amazing new system of the Weston union, which meant someone at home can 'send' you money to the bank through a private computer account and give you the money straight into cash. The poor captain and I rushed round the airport looking one that was open an willing to help - hard to do at 3 in the morning. Eventually we found one at the other side on the terminal who explained what to do and gave me yet more forms to fill in. In a jiffy I was on the phone to the parents (the bestest parents in the world, I'd like to add) and money was put into my hand. At this point I was so drained I could have collapsed. I said goodbye to the captain who warned me that getting a taxi at this time would cost a fortune and that I should wait for the skyline bus to take me onto town which started running again at 6. He gave me his number just in case I needed anything and left me alone in the airport.
I was then torn between calling a taxi or waiting for the skyline bus. The idea of a nice comfy bed was tempting but I had to make the cash I now had last me for at least a few weeks until my new cards got sent. I just couldn't justify sending a couple hundred riggit on a taxi. So my trusty backpack and I settled ourselves in a quiet(ish) corner of the airport terminal waiting for 6 o'clock to come around. It did...eventually. But I was exhausted. I figured if I could just get to the hostel, I would be fine. So with the last of my energy I paid for a ticket for the bus and from there took the tube to Chinatown where I wandered the streets with my backpack until I found my hostel. By this point it was about 8 in the morning. I can honestly say I have no I idea how I got there. Looking back I can't even remember. I was mentally and physically drained and when I finally hit my bed in the 16 bed dorm (it could've been 1600 beds for all I cared) I was dead to the world.
Waking up 4 hours later I had that nasty feeling in the pit of your stomach that you know that something awful has happened and you have to sort it out. And quickly. The family that owned the hostel were over the moon to see me as they had been worries by the fact that I hadn't showed up the night before. They were absolutely lovely and although the hostel wasn't the best I'd been in, the people there made it feel like home. They explained where the police station was to make a police report (for insurance) and the british embassy for advice on what to do next. A few more tube journeys (I was getting quick good at them now) I found myself no better off than I was before. The police took an hour to do a simple report and the bimbo at the british embassy just told me information I already knew. The only thing I that was worthwhile about the trip was I got to use the telephone, computer and printer to my hearts content without paying. At least I got the ball rolling for the insurance, if they even give me anything. I also arranged for an emergency mastercard to be sent to the hostel within the next 48hours. I honestly didn't realise half of these services in the world existed. I love technology.
That evening I met a handful of people in the hostel who took me out for dinner and a drink, something I appreciated more than anything as I hadn't eaten since the meal on the plane the night before. We had the best Indian I've ever had and ate it all with our hands off a banana leaf. Perfect.
The next day I woke up feeling a sooooooooo much better. I had breakfast and chatted to a couple of English girls my age who were off to the national park that was a 10 minute walk away. They offered for me to join them and we set off. Ten minutes soon turned into two hours. We got there eventually but there actually wasn't much to see. There were a few boring museums, a space centre and small zoo of exotic birds and butterflies. One girl was scared of butterflies, the other was scared of birds and none of us were particularly interested in the museums or space. The highlight of the day was having a picture with a bloody big snake. The day wouldn't have been that interesting if it wasn't for the good company. We chatted as girls our age do and I felt like we'd know each other for years. On the way back we collectively decided that a night of vodka was in order. After purchasing a few bottles of cheap coke and a massive bottle of vodka for 26riggit (£5) we were well on our way to a good night out. We took the last tube to an area where, according to the hostel owner, there were the best pubs and clubs. Aware of how much money I had, I didn't want to spend a load of money on watery cocktails. That was, however, until we discovering ladies night, which is the superb invention of allowing ladies to enter a club and drink for free. I think you can get a good idea of what the rest of the night was like.
I woke up the following day not quite remembering what had happened or how we got to the hostel. I was even surprised that I made it to the right bed (16 beds that all look the same in a dark room can easily confuse a intoxicated tired female). I dragged myself out of bed determined to eat the breakfast that I paid for, and quickly agreed to myself that it was going to be a food hangover day and what better place to have one that in Chinatown, kuala lumpar. The girls were feeling as rough as I was so we spent the day eating cheap food and wandering around the shops. One of then needed to send a box home with stuff she had bought (it cost her £40!) and I needed to send my insurance off so we braved the maze that was the national post office. We spent the evening in KLCC, the mall on top of which the breath-taking twin towers were built (see picture) drooling over gucci shoes and prada handbags. I even found a marks and spencers. After having pizza hut for dinner, shameful I know, we headed back for an early night. I decided then that I liked kuala lumpar. I had heard different things about it but overall I like the efficiency of the transport, the people were friendly and you could get away from the big corporate names into the local way of living. The next day day I decided that it was time to go. If my credit cards came early it would mean sending them to singapore would be the quickest way for them to arrive and I wanted to be there when they did. So here I am, on a bumpy bus, on my way to melacca, on the next stage of my quest to retrieve my cards and to start living normally again.
- comments
David Woodfield This is an amazing story. The kindness of those people to help you out and your persistence and bravery is inspirational.
Nikki Wynn im glad that everything sorted itself out in the end, sucks about having everything stolen, but it sounds like you had some amazing people to offer you help. sounds like in spite of what happened, your still having an amazing time! your a very good writer by the way!