That's not my title, that's what's on the front of the Malaysia, truly Asia tourist brochure and I suppose I did a few of those yesterday.
I started off with a bit of an explore around the hotel. It turns out that I am staying right at the end of the main shopping street in KL; like Oxford Street in London or like, well, nowhere really in Perth. There seems to be, like in most Asian cities, a string of massive shopping centres and I mean massive. All multistories, all white and shiny and all with the same shops in them. One thing that does seem to mark out the Malaysian ones from the Singapore ones is the number of men with shotguns. They are standing outside the jewellery stores mainly and don't instil much confidence. Firstly because I don't really want them blasting away in a crowded mall just to save some tacky bauble from Tiffany and secondly because most of them seem a little distracted, talking on phones and playing with PSPs. Not reassuring.
To be honest it would still be safer with them letting off birdshot than it is just trying to walk down the street here. There doesn't seem to be much pavement maintenance policy, or even pavement coordination. Some of them just stop in the middle of nowhere forcing you to try and cross five lanes of traffic. Others have crossings with pedestrian lights, but that only go half way across, leaving you stranded on a traffic island. Bit weird, maybe it's a way to remove the less nimble members of the community. In fact there seems to be a conscious effort to kill you here, with absolutely no concept of health and safety. If you hear anyone whine about "health and safety gone MAD!" I'd refer them here, where the only protection between me and the massive machine grinding off the surface of the hotel driveway was a bit of tape. And the driver managed to back over that.
After facing the Hunger Games like gauntlet to get into the hotel I headed off to the National Museum. Now my friends had warned me not to try and walk (OS&H again) so I caught a taxi. Now I always feel a bit anxious in foreign taxis. Actually I feel anxious in Perth taxis as well but that's more the thought of the driver getting lost. When abroad I am always convinced that I'm going to be ripped off/kidnapped/mugged and/or murdered by the taxi driver. Don't know why as none of those things have ever happened but I was pretty sure it was happening yesterday. When I looked at the map it was just a short trip west across town to the museum, however the taxi was off, heading north, then onto various freeways with the twin towers receding into the distance behind us. I really though my number was up. I know it's pathetic but it's why I prefer public transport, less likely to be buggered and robbed on a train I feel. After about 20 minutes in the taxi I was getting ready to drop and roll at the next slow corner when, miracle of miracles, I saw the sign for the museum. It seems that the freeways are actually just the main ring road in town. So all in all still safer than walking, and the adrenaline overdose really helped me wake up after my long day yesterday.
The National Museum was interesting, going right back to the dawn of the earth, which is pretty comprehensive for a museum about the cultural development of a country. To be honest I'm still not much the wiser about Malaysian history in recent times. The place was pretty clear on colonial history; first the Portugese arrived and managed to not kill everyone in sight (unlike most colonists of the Iberian persuasion) then the Dutch came, then the British, then the Dutch again for a bit, then the British and then independence. I have mixed feeling about colonialism, I mean obviously it's bad to take people's rights to govern themselves away, but then most of the ex-British colonies are only just letting their people have real democracy now, almost 80 years since then got their 'freedom'. I think it's hard to make a rational assessment from today's world about less enlightened times. I would just like to add though that, from what I learned yesterday, everyone on the Malay peninsula and Indonesia was constantly at war before the Brits arrived, ill wind and all that. I did notice that the Dutch gave the locals a fighting chance to get rid of them by wearing armour with a hole in it right over the heart area. Gotta love the Dutch, even their army tried to be pragmatic and even handed.
The section of the place about modern Malaysia was disappointing, all very heavy on the propaganda and not so good on the facts. Also a bit confusing when the independence struggle was all about "Malaya for Malays" and not a little racist and then the next panel is all about the wonderful melting pot of cultures that is Malaysia. I think there might still be quite a lot of pro-Malay discrimination here but you'll have to come here and see if you agree. There also wasn't much about Dr Mattahir Mohammed who, in my memory, was in charge for years and years and was only one tiny step from being a dictator. I guess you can gloss over that when you claim to be a democracy. I did however learn that the King here is head of state and he changes every five years, with all the little sultans deciding who gets to be next. They could televise it as "So You Think You Can Rule". Prince Harry could host. Also the Malaysians are inordinately proud of the Proton car, which is sweet if not a little misguided.
There were a few great things about the National Museum that cannot be passed over. First was all the dioramas (or is that dioramae?). I love a good museum diorama, and these were good. In the sense that they were terrible. I present to you the Portuguese attacking the harbour,
Fantastic! Also the museum shop was playing some interesting music, Ce Lo Green when I was I there, the version of "Forget You" that doesn't include the word "forget". Lost in translation I assume.
I decided to walk back to the train station that was just across the road on the map. The nice lady on reception gave me directions then said "good luck". I felt this did not bode well and she was right. It was a nightmare involving steps, dual carriageway and a flyover. I think being murdered by a taxi driver would be less stressful.
I tried to go to the National Mosque but was greeted by this;
Imagine putting that outside Westminster Abbey? They'd be bankrupt in a week.
When I got back to the hotel it was surrounded by police vehicle, men with guns and dozens of cars with flags on them. Apparently the Asian Defence Group was having a little shindig paid for by the European armaments industry, which explains why the flash Jag of the British Ambassador was here earlier in the day, trying to sell guns and jet fighters to various little poverty stricken third world countries. The Cambodian delegation was at breakfast this morning. I've been there and I'm pretty sure they should be spending money on schools and basic health care before they start buying Eurofighters. I just can't help getting cross, even if it does keep people building missiles in Wales.
Anyway I'm off to Chinatown today and a bit more walking around. I'll let you know how it goes.