Okay, not altogether sure how to start this one. As I sit here and type it's 11th March - two months to the day since I left merry England on the adventure of my young life. Two months. This is blog entry número uno. Hmm. Bit awkward isn't it? I doubt anyone is all that interested now - and, to be fair, why on earth would they be after such radio silence?

However, if you do happen to find yourself particularly idle for a few minutes and fancy having a mild chuckle at the yet more mild 'capers' of my fellow travellers and I, read on and come back too (promise I'll update it more often)....

Right so I'm in Kuala Lumpur (pron. "Lompuuuurrrrr"), Malaysia. We arrived this morning having taken the overnight 'sleeper train' from Singapore, Woodlands (more on this later). My first time in South East Asia & I'm still buzzing from arriving in from New Zealand. Being here now is a particular treat as we're weren't intending in arriving for another 10 days or so, but ran out of money in expensive Australasia so raced ahead to where we'd heard it was much cheaper.

The rumours are true, even in Singapore - expensive by Asian standards - I shopped cheaply without much restraint and dined for a mere £2/3. In fact my first taste of REAL asian food in REAL LIFE asia was a thrill. It just tasted so honest - as though all the rice & veg & sauce in it was made especially for me, my tastebuds. Like Marvin sang it "ain't nothing like the real thing baby, ain't like the real thing..."

Singapore went by in a bit if a blur. With just over 24 hours in town, after a restless 10 hour flight (shout out to singapore airlines by the way - flying, the fancy way!) we managed to squeeze in a bus tour, shopping, dinner, a light show down by the harbour and the teeny, weeniest bit of sleep too.

Then came the overnight train to KL. Im travelling with 2 friends on this trip (for the first part at least) and most of you know who they are, but as this blog is technically public, and I don't want to 'out' anyone, I'll refer to the girls as "Traveller 1" and "Traveller 2". Umm, yeah....lost my thread...nope, got it, train journey!

So the morning of our only full day in Singapore, after some time scouring the internet and speaking with our fab hosts at the 'Hangout hotel' (would definitely recommend staying) we discovered that with less than 48 hours before our intended departure online & phone booking was suspended and we'd have to purchase tickets directly from the station. This was majorly irksome not only because we'd been told it was a 3 1/2 hour round journey, but that it just felt so, SO pointless going that far out of town twice in a very short day. Regardless of our frustrations, we sucked it up and got on the MRT metro to Woodlands. I was playing musical chairs a little - getting up and down ad swapping seats for the unceasing stream of elderly people wanting to sit down. We arrive at Woodlands - then discover that no, oh no, that wasn't the correct Woodlands station and that the international terminal we wanted was a further 2/3 km out of town & a bus journey away. After twice being told incorrect bus numbers upon chasing after them, we caught the 950. Never been on a more full bus in my 23 years. Sardines. Hot. Sweaty. Unpleasant. Etc. Arrive at Woodlands intl. and are directed to passport control. With hoards of ready to go travellers moving in the opposite direction to us we hastily sought out some men in uniform (I was bummed out and complaining about the heat and my thirst pretty much the entire time - as was traveller 2, traveller 1 was super focused on getting it sorted and getting on with a rapidly reducing day of tourist activities). These men in uniform alone made me nervous firstly because I'm a scaredy cat and secondly because in Singapore, with it's laws so numerous and so strict, you're probably committing a crime in most aspects of your day to day life (penalty death?). Anyway, they pointed us in a direction beyond the doors we originally entered and of course, us being us, we took that to mean "take the lift down to ground" - exiting the lift, 3 armed security guards confront us, telling us we're in a prohibited zone & to leave immediately! So now we're seriously paranoid, run back up into the lift, to yet another floor where we are looked on suspiciously by more uniformed officers who ask to see our passports, look at them suspiciously then escort us through an empty passageway to another part of the station. We are lead to a long, bright corridor - lined with people queuing with baggage. Again, against the crowd we walked to the very end and eventually made it to the ticket office.

After selecting our train and getting information about the journey we had a nice chat with the gap-toothed fellow over the counter - even threw in some banter about the virtues of sleeping on a bottom bunk, instead of on top, when on sleeper trains - laughter, banter, payment, etc. Right yeah so you get it - we all knew the deal: 3 young travellers catching the overnight train from Singapore to Kuala Lumpur at 11:30pm that evening, in a 2nd class superior (whatever that means) sleeper carriage. He was even so helpful to recommend we arrive at 10:30pm, leaving an hour to check in.

So that was that, tickets booked and we were on our merry tourist way for the day. At 2pm. We spent the day apart getting on with various bits and pieces we wanted to see; for me a hop on, hop off tourist bus, Little India, the incredible Orchard Street shops, Art Gallery though I was gutted to miss the Botanical Gardens because of the rain (oh yeah, the rain has been following us since we left the UK - Aus, NZ, Singapore, now even Malaysia. Im quite a paranoid person, so am taking this very personally).

We met up again for a spot of dinner after the now obligatory argument every meal-time about price & location (issues for travellers 2 & 1, respectively) and watched a quay light show next to a smelly, rat infested river. Atmosphere, you just can't buy it.

We dashed back to our hostel for a quick wee and to pick up our baggage - the first of these tasks left me with top tucked into knickers, what a babe - then began our taxi journey to Woodlands for the second time that day. About 7 minutes in (we were already running a little late) I cry out "f***". Knowing me, you'll know this isn't necessarily alarming - I have foul language and often use expletives in times of emotional elation or turmoil - this, unfortunately, was the latter. I'd realised I'd left my hideously expensive walking boots in the hostel room, behind the bathroom door, under the desk, in the back right hand corner, tucked away nice and safe where no-one could find them. It has been a sore point for the 3 of us, my always forgetting something in the room, realising that, oh yeah actually we were told to bring down our pillowcases on check out or forever losing room keys, stuff like that. For traveller 2, who is already weirdly careful about travelling (to the extent that she arrived at Heathrow 2 hours before check-in opened, which itself is 3 hours before the bloody flight takes off) this was all too much. Aaaaanyway - I ummed & ahhed out loud for a minute or two over going back - I'm certain I'll need them again further on in the trip, plus I'd been lugging them around for this long, it'd be a waste if I didn't get them back. But then on the other hand, we would almost certainly be late if I continued - the traffic was heavy & due to a 1-way system in the CBD area, it'd take us ages to get back. Traveller 1 was being sweetly sympathetic - insisting that we return, that I'd carried them this far and the additional journey wouldn't push us over time-wise; traveller 2 with her travel paranoia kept quiet. I said loudly that no, mr taxi driver, please don't turn around, I'd call the hostel and if I was lucky they'd might hold the boots until my return in a couple of months. So we carried on driving for 15minutes or so. It was only when, during my lost property sulk, as I was gazing out of the window, did I realise we had returned to the city - taximan had ignored my request and we were back for the boots! I can't deny I was chuffed at this surprise even though I knew we'd likely be late for train check in and I could see it was giving traveller 2 a stroke. As we acsended Mt Emily hill to the hostel a massive friggin tour bus was exiting, doing a 58-point turn trying to get out of a tight squeeze. To save time and because I was panicking I yelled "right I'm gonna get out here and run round, by the time you get up after this coach, I'll have picked up the boots and be waiting by the cactus plant outside the gate". And like that I was out of the car. Running. In the wrong direction. On the wrong road. In the dark. With smokers lungs. About 2 minutes into my aimless sprint I clocked on I was heading nowhere, fast. Got a bit of a lump in my throat at this stage - I was roasting hot, shattered, the car with the girls wasn't anywhere to be seen, I wasn't sure in which direction to continue next and was painfully aware that we were yet to start our journey to the out of town train station during rush hour. Oh and the taxi meter was still running. I wandered/jogged for another 5 minutes. I needed something drastic as I was veeeeery close to thinking "sod it, we'll get another train tomorrow". My 'something' came - I heard one of those mythical banshees crying out "NAAAAAAAAAAY". I paused. "NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY". I looked up the nearest alley and there was traveller 1, glowing like an angel (sweat and light pollution, probs) bearing my boots. "Nay!! I knew you got out at the wrong place!" "Err, so why didn't you tell me?!!!". Not most people's automatic response, granted - think the popular choice would have been "You've found the boots, you've found me - thank you friend!" but I was way too grumpy for all that (n.b. I later apologised for such rudeness, thanked traveller 1 & was reunited with the boots. That's the only 'happy ending' part of this story.)

After meeting her at the top of some deceptively long stairs (the ones where you approach at a considerable pace, then have slow to a pained climb once you realise that damn, these are steep and never ending!) we in the taxi and off once more. Journey quiet. Me in shock at return of prize possessions, traveller 1 trying to make small talk, traveller 2 praying for timely arrival to the terminal and shooting me glances full of distain. But hark! We pull up at 10:45pm - 15 minutes before check in opened and just 15 minutes after we intended - yippee! Joined the queue and waited along with another 100 or so people, for the desk to open. Once open the queue moved quickly and within 2/3 minutes we're at the front, traveller 1 a step ahead with her passport & ticket presented to the security officers. It's taking a little while, but I figured it was just their "white tourist banter" holding things up. At this moment, for the first time since purchasing it some 9 hours earlier, I decided to look at my ticket: One passenger. Singapore Woodlands to KL Sentral. 2nd Class Superior Sleeper. 10th March 2012, 1:45pm. One forty-five pee emm. It was eleven pm. I turn to traveller 2 "Umm. Do you think it's this holding her up with them?" I say, pointing at the time. She stares blankly at the stubs of paper. It was already much too much that we were almost late, this new stress had real potential to tip her over the edge. "No. No it's not that. Ignore that" Denial, self-preservation. Hmm. Traveller 1 turns around "s***, they're saying our ticket is for a train that left this afternoon!" We argue with them for some time "It's clearly a mistake of your staff!", "Why would be here now with all our things had we already made the identical journal today?!", "Why would be book sleeper carriages if travelling during the day?!" They couldn't have given less of a s*** and why would they, we were loud & taking up time needed for the rest of the queue. We needed to go back to the ticket office and take it up with them. We protested that with all our baggage it would take forever to get all the way round and down and could one person go in all our stead? "No, move along please all" :-|

So we dragged all our s*** downstairs, in a major angry fluster - how dare he (gap-toothed ticket guy) mess up to the extent that we might miss our train? We had no accommodation booked for that night in Singapore & finding elsewhere cheap last minute would be some feat. Walking into the ticket office no staff or other patrons were around, so we did the natural thing - began hollering until someone appeared. Someone did, sat behind the counter and then stared blankly at us. Manically and all at once we tried to explain situation and acquire new tickets. Calmly, he told us he didn't work there and was waiting for a friend. The whole time, there was this menacing golden 'thumbs up' with a face smiling at us, as if to say "Bloody hell, you lot are having a right old time of it - life's great as a golden thumb! Unlucky chaps!" Or at least thats how I took it. A couple of minutes later said friend arrived and again we explained - that we needed our tickets updated to the correct departure date. She told us we ought to have checked our tickets when buying them (duh!) and there was nothing she could do but issue us whole new tickets - and for us to be quick about our decision because there were only 6 seats left on the train (all sleeper bed were sold out). We argued again that it was the fault of the man who sold them to us, blah blah plus a few theatrical tears from traveller 1 - nothing. Still we had to pay up. So resigned, we had our visa & mastercards at the ready, only to be told they only accept cash. We had none. "Where's the nearest cashpoint please?" "What cashpoint?" "Oh, the ATM, so that we can get money..." "You can't get money here." "Oh right. Excellent." Glance at clock, 11 minutes to departure. More tears. This seemed to soften her - she shoots us a pitying look & makes a phone call. Tense 60 seconds. She hangs up the phone, walks over to her PC and prints us 3 new tickets, ripping up our old ones "Take these and go. Do not mention this incident at KL or else I will get into trouble" - we do as the lady says and run (amidst protestations from traveller 1 that we'd demand a refund for our sleeper ticket and an apology on arrival).

Security know by this time we're in no mood to be trifled with and let us through quickly. Then onto border control - traveller 1 & I had no trouble, they took the Singapore entrance cards we'd received at the airport a day earlier and sent us on our (not so) merry way. Traveller 2 had lost hers. Within 30 seconds she'd decanted the entire contents of her rucksack onto the floor of the hall and was rifling through her possessions at 100mph, tears in her eyes - travelling paranoia is her thing - cutting it this fine was a new dimension of fail to her. The mess and commotion wouldn't do and the officials asked her to gather up her stuff and moved her into another office (where we later found out she was kindly and rapidly issued a new one). Myself and traveller 1 by this time had moved onto baggage clearance and final checks where we were told we had to leave finger prints in order to exit the building and board the train. "Woah, what? Why?" I seriously had my back up about this and I wasn't at all comfortable with that kind of ultra sensitive personal data being stored by the Singapore government. "What will the information be used for?" "No information madam" "No, I mean the details of my finger prints, where are they going?" "To the computer" "Right, yes, but why is that necessary - who is storing it?" "Singapore government" "Okay, for how long?" "Not long" "Yes but, is that 6 months?" "Yes 6 months" "So not 12 months?" "Yes 12 months" "Are we saying 12 months then?" "Yes miss, no more than 12 months" You can see why I tired of this & just left my bloody finger prints with them to be allowed to move onto the next stage of this bulls*** saga.

Just at that time traveller 2 had rounded the corner, looking just about as stressed out as a person can look. She'd yet to do baggage stuff and it was already 8 minutes after the train was due to leave - borrowed time. Traveller 1 and I did what any desperate person on the brink would have done - we begged. Begged for them to continue to delay the train - we sort of 'flirt-grovelled' - it was gross. And, as it turned out, completely unnecessary as they were already holding the train on our behalf anyway! When eventually our party was reunited, we boarded and found our carriage. Okay it was dirty. Okay it was filled with 1,000,000watt blinding lightbulbs, leaving no possibility for drifting to a natural sleep. Okay it was so freezing we literally had to wear all our clothes and hoods and use pillowcases as scarves and towels as blankets. Okay so the only toilet was a squatting hole in the ground that splashed stagnate piss at you as the train rocked along. Okay all of these terrible, terrible things - it was ours & we were on our way :-)

8 hours later we arrived into KL. In a daze (having not slept - see earlier notes about terrible, terrible carriage) we took a taxi a short ride to our hotel. After a little confusion about payment, holding credit cards and splitting costs, we were lead up to our room. And what a room - we whooped, screeched and hugged one another! It's so perfect - massive beds, mad view, ipod dock, telly, huge sunken bath and AIRCON! After 2 months of hostel surfing, what other reaction could we have given?

And then we went up to the rooftop infinity pool. Which is where we are now :-)

After all that malarkey, KL had better have something very special in store! Watch this space...

NBF xox