Notes on Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Sultan Abdul Samad Building

Me and the Petronas Twin Towers

Independence Square, KL

The flight from Singapore to Kuala Lumpur was fine. Very quick at about 50 minutes. But on landing in KL I was disappointed to experience the worst immigration queues of all my travels. I spent almost as long in the line to get into the country as I did flying there. It meant I arrived in KL with a look of thunder on my face, feeling generally fed up with the whole idea of this round-the-world trip. But then the airport express train came out from underground into lush green Malaysian forest, the sun was shining, and I just couldn’t help but smile. I am so lucky to be having this experience and must remember to treasure it, no matter the small bumps along the way.
My first impression of KL is sunshine. Blue skies at last. And though it’s about 32 degrees, it’s a drier heat than in Singapore, so it’s quite comfortable. The great weather made the whole city, especially the famous Petronas Twin Towers shimmer. I think they are awesome, imposing structures and definitely rank as a world landmark.
The city is not a walker’s paradise. You can forget your underpasses here. In Kuala Lumpur it’s jaywalk or nothing. The traffic lights appear to be more of a suggestion than a rule for all parties concerned. Nobody pays any heed to them. Scurrying across multi-lane traffic should be no problem for a true Dubliner – we’re terrible for crossing illegally in Ireland. But I’ve become accustomed to the Japanese way of waiting for the green man even on an empty street with nary a car in sight.
I took a coffee and sat by the beautiful fountain in the KLCC centre just under the Petronas towers. The best people watching spot I’ve seen so far. So many interesting cultural sights. Like the woman in full black burka. And I mean full – not even an eye slit – she had a gauze veil and wore black gloves. This woman, covered head to toe, was sitting on the stone step holding a Starbucks take out coffee. And periodically she would just put it under the veil and take a drink. And I didn’t want to cause offense by staring but I just couldn’t help it. The mix of two cultures – the symbols of American hegemony and strict Islamic tradition seemed to sit so comfortably with her. There was no contradiction. She was just a woman drinking a coffee. It’s amazing: the human capacity to accept multiple identities and rationalise our lifestyles. Like I said, great people watching.
As for the shopping centre itself, it was huge and thronging. I’m not saying anything new here, but the world has clearly become a global shopping mall. With M&S and Zara and Gap and Starbucks, it was like any other shopping centre anywhere around the world. But when you see O’Brien’s Irish Sandwich shops sat there with the rest of them (they are all over Singapore, too) you can’t help but feel it’s globalisation gone too far. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little twinge of patriotic pride, but come on. I’ve travelled half way round the world and the shopping centre looks just like it was on Grafton Street in Dublin. Even more so because all the staff have Asian faces here, too!
I’ve seen a lot of colonial footprints on my travels so far, but by far the funniest was the sign outside a hotel in KL advertising a ‘Tiffin’ set. I don’t think I could order tiffin with a straight face. I’d feel like I was one some back BBC sitcom from the 70s.
Shame of the day: absent-mindedly walking into the women’s toilets in a predominantly Muslim country where 50% of the women the veil to protect their modesty. I was so embarrassed slash shocked. I was probably lucky I didn’t get in trouble either. The woman who saw me coming in just laughed and said, ‘Next door!’ The shame!
In a twenty minute monorail ride in KL, I saw a mosque, a Chinese shrine, a Hindu temple and a Methodist church all pass by in quick succession. I think this country has earned its multicultural credentials.
Back at the hotel, watching the Islamic prayers being shown on TV was a kick. It must be the way people feel when they come to Ireland and see the Angelus being televised on RTE1 every day.
The highpoint of my first day in Malaysia was leaving the gleaming towers and fountains of the KLCC centre to go back to my hotel, walking through Little India with the Bollywood music blaring and all the small stalls and strange food and smells, and just feeling like I was in some Mastercard ad or something.

Street vendor vegetarian curry, Singapore

After trying my best to take a few photos without ruining my camera I headed to a nearby street market. I bought this vegetarian curry from a street hawker for only 4 Singapore dollars (about 2 euro). Can you believe what good value that is? They get zero points for presentation. They simply took a FILTHY plastic tray and threw some greaseproof paper on top and then lobbed the food right down on top of that. But the taste was great. Cheap tasty food available 24 hours a day is one of Singapore’s major draws. I did feel a little rough that afternoon. It was probably the worms making a nice, comfy home in my intestine. But sure they’ll help keep the weight down and keep my sprightly and light for all the travelling I’ve yet to do.

Merlion, Symbol of Singapore

I walked to Merlion Park in Singapore to tick off some more famous sights of South East Asia. I was drowned by damn rain. I have a very funny photo of my natural reaction to being wet yet again. So far the weather gods have not been kind to me. The Merlion (Mermaid Lion) is the Singaporean national symbol. It comes from the idea that an Indian prince named Singapore ‘Singa pura’ (lion island) after mistaking some other animal he saw in the jungle for a lion. I figure the mermaid bit comes from the fact that it always bloody rains in this part of the world and even wild cats have to grow fins!!! I’m not bitter, honest.

Night Safari in Singapore

The major event of my day was the night-time safari at Singapore zoo. This is Singapore’s most famous and award-winning attraction. Some visitors joke it is Singapore’s only tourist attraction. I disagree – I have found Singapore to be highly entertaining so far.
The entrance to the safari is designed like something out of the American TV show ‘Survivor.’ It was all tiki torches, bamboo huts and wooden totems, with dramatic background and spot lighting. It wasn’t at all natural or authentic but it was full of atmosphere and set an exciting mood.
To get a good look at all the animals you can walk around various tracks and take a guided tram. I found the tram to be the more enjoyable because the tour conductors give a feast of trivia My Encyclopatrick alter-ego recorded it all with delight.
In the future you can expect me to quote savant-like from my new pot of useless information. For example, did you know that:
The pink flamingo is one of the few species of bird to give milk to its young
The jackal was revered by the ancient Egyptians as the god of death, Anubis. This is because the jackal is a natural scavenger usually found hanging around dead bodies. Jackals are even known to dig up buried human remains in their search for food.
Only the male cicada makes the distinctive ringing sound. This was discovered by a Greek philosopher who came up with the following poem. ‘How happy the male cicada’s life: For each one has a voiceless wife.’ Bigoted but witty, don’t you think?
The rhino’s skin may look tough but it’s actually extremely sensitive. Like pigs, rhinos have no sweat glands in their epidermis. So they wallow in mud to maintain their skin’s condition and kill parasites.
This last fact reminded me of a lot of my friends. Not the parasite bit, but that, of the people I know, the ones who appear the roughest and toughest are in fact the most sensitive. While the quiet and gentle ones are the steeliest, most determined, sometimes the harshest.
I saw so many amazing animals up close. I would highly recommend this tour to anyone who comes to Singapore. I even saw some otters. Regular readers of this blog will know how much I love me some otters. The ones I saw weren’t holding hands but I swear one couple was spooning. Such affectionate little critters.
Needless to say, it was amazing to see wild animals like lions and tigers and elephants. Or weird and unusual animals like the four-month-old striped tapir or the giant anteater.
But the highlight for me was walking through the mangroves and getting up close and personal with the bats and flying foxes. I had seen these animals before in Australia and found them fascinating. But here I got to go eye to eye with a flying fox hanging upside down less than a metre away from me. It was tingly.

First Impressions of Singapore

There is a clear totalitarian tendency. You feel a little like big brother is watching. There are slogans posted here and there: ‘Value Life – Act Responsibly’ ‘Recklessness Kills’ ‘Littering Carries $1000 Fines.’ On the station platform as you wait there was a video describing how to report someone acting suspiciously. There must be a right wing streak in me somewhere – after the unmannerly, selfish, disorganized behaviour of the Koreans I appreciate that in Singapore you are advised to behave for the benefit of the group… or else! I wonder what freedoms I’d be willing to give up for a clean city that runs efficiently and courteously.
On first impressions, I love Singapore. Walking through the city at night, the spot lit palm fronds that line the street make you feel like the whole city is some exclusive tropical resort.
I love the mix of colonial and hyper-modern architecture.
Passing the famous Raffles Hotel gave me a real and unexpected thrill. It just hit me that I had read about this place in books as a kid and never imagined I’d actually be there myself. I felt like I was in a Noel Coward novel, or something.
I love the mix of skin colour and clothing and ethnicity you see on the streets of Singapore. And all these different people seem to be coexisting peacefully and prospering together. Of course, I haven’t really been here long enough to judge. One thing I did get a sense of was that the darker skinned Indians and Malays seemed to be using the cheaper modes of transport (train and bicycle) and working in the more menial jobs. Whereas the lighter skinned Chinese and Westerners seemed to be using the more expensive forms of transport (taxi and car) and were dressed like white collar workers. But this is only a first impression – I can’t say for sure.
The nearer the equator you get the slower people walk. This is a dynamic city but the pedestrians sure move slowly. As a cold and speedy North European, I have had to resist the temptation a couple of times to kick the slow people in the back.
I got an even bigger totalitarian vibe walking home through the centre of the city. At a major intersection two motorcycle police stopped all pedestrians from crossing in order to let a cavalcade pass through. I mean this was a major thoroughfare at rush hour and everything came to a stop for some ambassador or other to pass through the city more quickly. I got the feeling this sort of thing happened a lot. A couple of Singaporeans beside me were chattering in Malay. What I could understand of their conversation was, ‘malay, malay, malay, ‘special person’ ‘nuh!’ malay, malay, malay.’ The police officer couldn’t’ have been more smiling or courteous though.

Bibimbap (A future 'Bullets' song title?)

I really wanted to eat Bibimbap – a Korean delicacy of veggies and rice mixed with a spicy sauce. It’s great for vegetarians as you mix the ingredients yourself at the table so you can just ask them to leave out the meat. This delicious creation was again only about 4 euro. How can all this food cost the same as a cup of coffee in the same city? I don’t understand the market. The waiter had put me off ordering another version of this dish as he said the sauce was very spicy. The one pictured above would be milder he said. I was a little offended as I really like spicy food. I’m no lightweight. Thank God I listened to his advice. My so-called ‘sweet’ sauce was plenty spicy. I wonder what he hotter version would have been like.

Gyeongju

The bus to Gyeongju (about 4 hours from Seoul ) was uneventful. It was interesting to see a very familiar countryside (it looks a lot like Japan) with church spires and steeples popping up here and there. It’s easy to forget there is a strong Catholic tradition in Korea.
At first glance, Gyeongju was a dump. At second and third glance I was still of much the same opinion.
I would not recommend going there unless you are on a guided tour. It was the seat of the Shilla Kingdom for 1000 years and is a town with a rich and proud history and culture. It’s full to the brim with Unesco world heritage tombs and temples and palaces. But each sight is miles apart. The time and effort you expend in making your own way by local bus is energy-sapping and soul-destroying. Figuring out a transportation system in a foreign language is difficult enough when you’re based in a place for months. But when you’re only there for two days, it’s a baptism of fire.
I actually love seeing the local colour of a rural bus system. The old leather-faced farmers, the emerald green paddy fields out the window, the parcels of vegetables and exotic fruit piled on peoples laps, the background babble of a foreign tongue. That’s the fun part. But when another bus inexplicably passes by without stopping, and it’s raining, and you’re standing over an open drain, that’s when your spirits can flag. I may have even shouted something very rude out VERY loud, much to the enjoyment of the local grannies waiting with me.
The centre of Gyeongju really reminded me of some of the regional Thai towns I’ve visited. The covered market beside the tiny train station was hot and humid. Stalls were made of off-cuts of wood and metal and old sheets of plastic. Scrap chic. Everything comes in piles: piles of leafy greens, piles of shining aubergines, piles of clammy fish with no ice and a side of flies (the ‘l’ is intentional). A bucket of rotting offal sat next to the ubiquitous stall of plastic flip flops. Who can say why? And at each stall the sellers lounged about fanning themselves, propped up, waiting for something to happen. I really felt a sense of déjà vu.
As downtown was kind of ugly, I was thankful that my hotel was about twenty minutes outside of town in the heart of the countryside. I shouldn’t have been. It was a worse dump than the hotels I saw in the centre. Seriously, this place made the Bates Motel look charming. It will go down as the second worst place I’ve ever slept. And bear in mind that I am someone who has slept on train platform benches, Sydney beaches and Tokyo gutters (only that one time). The title of worst hotel still goes to the Laotian room where crunchy cockroaches scuttled on the floor below my bed throughout the night.
I think most normal people would have run at the sight of the hotel. Maybe I didn’t want to be bested by the place and my reward for sucking it up was a great rest. I slept better there than I have anywhere else this trip. The irking thing was really the cost. It wasn’t so cheap and you honestly couldn’t pay me to stay there again.
The best thing by far about my time in Gyeongju was Bulguksa Temple. I've put a picture of the gardens above. Like I said, loved it. I wasn’t so wild about the Unesco protected mountain I had to climb (on an empty stomach) to get there. But it was a peaceful, beautiful Buddhist temple with great views of a sweeping valley below.
An interesting cultural point: In rural Gyeongju, like in Okinawa, tombs are a big deal. But in Korea, the tombs are round, green mounds of grass. Like in Okinawa, though, they are scattered about in unexpected locations. Probably again based on good feng shui. The Shilla Kings tombs in Gyeongju were massive hills of grass, but the locals’ ones were just little grassy knolls the size of a small tent dotted about the fields of rice. I found them much more impressive and tried to get some photos from the bus as we sped by.

Okayu

I did have a bit of a ‘we’ Japanese people moment this morning. I was looking for a place to enjoy breakfast. It seemed to be all fast food restaurants and coffee shops. I wanted something more substantial and healthy. In Myeong Dong (the trendy shopping area in the centre) I came across a shop with a big Chinese character for お粥 (okayu) on its window. This is a kind of rice porridge usually flavored in many different ways. I love it. I practically ran indoors. I ordered what turned out to be the best vegetable rice porridge I have ever had (with the obligatory and delicious side orders or kimchi). And all for only about 4 euro. The funny thing was that every other customer in the place was Japanese. And we all took photos of our food when it was served!Ah, my people. Overhearing Japanese did give me the first twinges of nostalgia and possible future homesickness.

Krispy Kreme

On my wanders I found a Krispy Kreme donut shop. This is the shop in Tokyo where people are queuing up for one hour and forty five minutes just to purchase said treats. Well, I had to go and check it out. My waiting time: approximately 15 seconds. In your face, Tokyo! And in the end the donuts were really nothing special. I don’t get what all the fuss is about. Japanese people must be mad.

Seoul Sellers

This city is a hawker’s and street vendor’s paradise, and in a very incongruous way. You have stalls selling socks and fried food and fake designer sunglasses and plastic flip flops everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I got a real kick out of passing by the Bulgari and Louis Vuitton flagship stores. They were all marble and glass elegance just like Tokyo. And then just at the door were hawkers selling fake Fendi sandals and Gucci bags and corndogs and underpants. It was hilarious. I really felt that this city does not take itself too seriously. But I don’t think I could live here. All this outdoor selling and food preparation makes it extra pungent and mental.
I’m not sure about the Korean attitude to work and service. There were the young kids goofing off, hiding in the food palettes at the donut shop. Or the front desk clerk was full on asleep on, slumped over the desk when I went to give in my key this morning. Or the young police officers were smoking and eating ice-cream in uniform. I just don’t know what to make of it. I’d read that Koreans work and study the longest hours of any nation in the world but it sure looks like they’re taking those working hours pretty easy. Maybe I just need to lose the Japanese stick up my rear.
It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that they drive on the other side of the road (to Japan and Ireland) over here. I didn’t notice because they don’t seem to let you cross the road that much. Many of the main streets have about ten lanes of traffic so instead you have to use these underpasses. Underpasses are great if you know where you’re going. But if, like me, you’re not that sure, they can be a very frustrating experience. You see where you want to go far over the other side of the street. You go underground and make sure to travel in exactly the direction you were looking. And yet somehow you end up coming up three blocks behind where you started. It’s like they’re time tunnels or something.

Seoul Skin

There are skin care shops everywhere. Japanese women have an impression that Korean women have amazingly beautiful skin. They say it’s all the kimchi. I think they might be getting a little more help than that. Korea is the plastic surgery capital of Asia. It’s cheap and within the reach of more than just TV and movie stars. They joke that every Korean actor and actress has the same nose.
No matter what you order you seem to get a side of kimchi. The restaurant I went to the first night kept refilling my side dish of gherkins. I was over the moon. I have been known to eat gherkin sandwiches. In Lux ate a whole jar in one sitting. I didn’t feel very well after.
Women hold hands as they walk along the street. It’s kind of charming. And men (especially younger men) seem way more affectionate with each other than in other countries I’ve visited.
Sitting in a coffee shop a dude comes in off the street and offers to shine your shoes while you drink. It’s all very ‘developing world’. Not what I was expecting.
There is no taboo about eating as you walk or eating on the street as there is in Japan. In fact eating on-the-go and outdoors seems to be encouraged. You can buy a variety of fried foods on a stick and fresh fruit on a stick from stalls on almost every street. It seems very unsanitary to these eyes that have come from ‘germ’ phobic Japan, what with the food all piled there out in the open and everything being prepared right on the street beside all the fumes and insects and stuff. Again this really brings the country closer to the whole Bangkok vibe. Overall the Koreans don’t seem at all worried about germs. Three women at the table next to me ordered one cup of tea and shared it with each other. I’ve never seen that in Japan.

Smells of Seoul

Everything smells very strongly. Not only bad smells - hot and spicy and sweet and humid ones too. But there are quite a few over-ripe odours. I felt it as soon as I got off the plane. I had heard this said by Japanese people many times and thought it was just racist prejudice. Turns out it’s either true or I’m bigoted. I hope it’s the former.
The trains are so cheap. A one-and-a-half hour journey from the airport cost about 4 euro. In Japan the same trip would be like triple at least.
I wasn’t that excited about coming to Seoul. I thought it would just be ‘Tokyo Lite.’ And while from afar it many look a little like Tokyo, when you get up close it’s more of a South East Asian country. I’d compare it more to Bangkok or Ho Chi Minh. But even that’s not fair. The place absolutely has its own unique character. It’s mad and mixed up, hectic and dirty, stimulating and sticky. It’s far more interesting and fun than I’d hoped (oh yeah, and did I mention pungent?).

Dreams come true

About two hours before sunset, the weather miraculously cleared. I immediately ran down to the beach to collect a seashell as a souvenir (I know, I’m a twelve year old girl).
After I walked the length of the beach. I’ve somehow clocked up 11km today. It doesn’t feel like I’ve walked that at all.
I got back to the hotel to realize a long-dream. For as long as I’ve been in Japan, I’ve fantasized about sitting on a balcony, sipping a beer, and watching the sun set over Okinawa. Today, that wish became a reality.
I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. I keep thinking I don’t deserve such good fortune – I’m not that nice a person.
But this trip is really happening. I couldn’t be happier or more thankful.

A grave issue

The graves in Okinawa are a little startling. They’re large and quite ostentatious tombs. Seriously, more gorgeous than the farm houses I saw. And they seem to pop up everywhere, in the most unexpected places. There are three just at the entrance to my hotel. I know that ancestor worship is a big deal in Japanese culture. It may be an even bigger deal in this Ryukyu island culture. I was told that the graves are so big because families congregate there and have big parties and drink a toast to celebrate their dead. The strange locations might have something to do with Chinese feng shui too. I know that the Okinawa has been tugged between the influences of China and Japan for centuries.

Missed opportunity of the trip so far

As I was walking through head-high fields of sugar cane, I came across a small, isolated, dirty looking shack. The door was open and inside I could spy and old women with a leathery, wrinkled face. Her hair was up in curlers and she had a scarf tied around her head. On the door was a sign in Japanese ‘Open for Business’. Handwritten on the wall beside was the name of the shop – Smile Beauty Salon. It was such an incongruous sight: The disheveled parlour alone in the middle of all these fields; The woman’s weather-beaten, smiling face; The dreary weather setting a melancholy tone. I really think it would have made an amazing picture. Real Time Magazine type stuff. But hey, my poor old camera would have been ruined in the downpour and I didn’t want to intrude on the farm lady’s private pleasure. It’s all still printed on my mind’s eye. I won’t forget. I took a quick snap of the shop on the way back but the door was closed and the magic was gone.

Ame otoko - Rain Man

A Perfect Storm From the earlier photos, you can see how nice the weather was when I set off on the ferry. About three hours in we hit a storm. I was not unhappy. I love rough seas. Of the 70 or so passengers, only me and two other guys were brave (foolish) enough to stay on the outer deck throughout. It was so much fun hanging on and getting thrown about by the waves, water hitting you in the face and not knowing if it's rain, spray or actual wave. It was so primal for me to feel the terrifying and tremendous force of nature. We humans think we're on top of everything. But we're not in charge. Being at the mercy of the sea really puts you in your place. And for all this adventure I wasn't once scared. I felt sure that if it had been really dangerous someone would have told us to come inside (right?).

So the storm I talked about (which I loved so much at first) didn't let up for the whole first day. I mean I couldn't leave the hotel, the rain was that strong.
Then today, I awoke before the alarm at 6.30am. I was going to try and fall back for another few hours but thought I’d just check on the weather. To my great joy it wasn’t raining. I immediately took the picture you can see above.
Even though it still wasn’t postcard weather it looked a lot better today than yesterday’s gun-metal grey scene.
My smile needn’t have been too firmly fixed. It was lashing again by the time I got down to breakfast.
I was damned if I was going to sit in all day again. So my plan was to change into rain gear and flip flops, line my backpack with a strong plastic bag to protect my valuables and to head out and explore.
At the start it was a fairly light drizzle. First impressions of the island: multicoloured butterflies everywhere. And lots of unusual birds diving in and out of the crops a huntin’. If only I were an ornithologist. Even for a city boy like me they were pretty interesting. So many vividly coloured wild flowers just growing in ditches and the like. It’s all very lush.
Kume Island looks pretty poor. Most of the time I felt like I was in Cuba or something, what with all the sugar cane and sweet potato plantations. The farm houses looked very dilapidated with lots of scrap metal lying in each yard. I wonder if there’s a crime problem. Two horrible barky, scary dogs roared at me as I passed and I saw a few barred up windows.
I was disappointed not to have seen any shisa (a kind of lion dog statue that guards the gates and eaves of houses in Okinawa from evil spirits). Of course, as soon as the rain got heavier and I could no longer take out my camera I was practically falling over these Ryukyu shishi. Typical.
And when I say heavier rain, I mean heavier rain. I have definitely proved my credentials as a master 雨男 (Ame otoko – a man who brings rain wherever he goes). Last night’s top item on the news was how the mainland of Japan was experiencing record sun and blistering temperatures, completely unseasonal at that. The mainland is supposed to be in rainy season now, while we here on the islands are SUPPOSED to be basking in sunshine. But like I said, where I go, rain follows.
I tried to stay all positive about the rain and that. I mean I figured once you’re wet no point in worrying about the degree. I tried the whole thing of smiling up at the sky as the rain showered down at me and telling the heavens to do their worst. That was probably a mistake – when the rain was so heavy that my underpants were wet through and when the scary thunder and lightning were clapping and flashing right over my head I decided to admit defeat and head back to the hotel.

Behind the hotel is just sugar cane and sweet potato farmland


The resort's pool and beach

Challenge of the trip so far?

Trying to make the hotel's nighttime 'mu mu' seem masculine. (Ed. note: I failed) Tehehe! I think I look like Sinead O'Connor during her 'priest' phase.

Go go gadget arms!

So far, every hotel I have stayed in on this trip has given me a room on the fifth floor. First time, I barely paid attention. Second time, I raised an eyebrow. Third time, I thought, 'Woah!'
The Japanese for five is 五 Go. So I have decided to make the motto of Uncle Travelling Pat's World Tour 2007: Gawan ya gud ting!

Random sentences from my journal

I was down on my hands and knees for two hours scrubbing three years of yellow, Chinese sand off my balcony, and then the landlord never even looked outside. Still they did compliment me on how clean I had left the apartment. And I got more than half my deposit back. It was worth the bleeding knuckles.
I really was struggling to get excited. I think the three months of preparing to move had deadened me. It was like I had natural beta blockers or something. Aware that I should be maniacally happy, but unable to achieve the feeling. This all changed when I boarded the plane and found I had been upgraded to business class. And they never even told me. I thought the seat number seemed a little low. In all my many flights this was my first experience. Man, what a way to travel. It is the only way to fly. It's ruined me for economy. I'm pretty tall but I could stretch my legs out all the way without touching the chair in front. I had to unbuckle my belt to get my bag. May this be a good omen for the rest of the trip.
Waiting in line to board the plane to Okinawa was like Spring Break in Cancun. So many young American adults, mostly military. A good half of the plane were service personnel. The smell of soap and deodorant in the queue was overpowering, not bad, just really strong. I've gotten used to the Japanese idea of trying to smell neither good nor bad. I'm not used to American army non-neutrality.
I got off the plane and immediately felt I was in a different country, though Okinawa is still technically in Japan. It was the air - a sweet, hot, tropical smell with a aftertaste of sea salt and frangipani. I'm in heaven.
Black and grey make up the chic uniform of Tokyoites. Usually I covet their style. But here in the tropics, seeing big splashes of colour and everyone wearing Aloha shirts does a heart good.
I'm learning to embrace my dirt: I've been wearing the same trousers for three days now. Two reasons: One - I have my bag optimally packed. To move anything could lead to disaster. I can JUST fit everything in right now. Two - The more I dirty now, the more I have to wash down the line.
Another seen it all moment: My hotel room provides 'Slipper Sheets,' disposable insoles for the hotel room slippers provided in all Japanese hotels. For some reason this kind service made me really angry. The earth is dying. Do we really need to use her precious natural resources protecting our soles from each other's dirt? It's a planetary Save Our Souls.
I love boats. I love water, especially the sea. We come from water. We're made of water. The draw of the ocean is strong. Out on the water I love the power, the vastness of the possibilities, what may lie just over the horizon. The hope.

Island Update

My trip has truly begun and I couldn't be happier.
I have arrived in Okinawa, Japan's tropical island paradise. The sun is shining. The sky is blue. And everyone seems to be dressed in colourful Aloha shirts. It does a heart good.
I'm off now to take a four hour ferry to my resort on Kume island.
Hopefully I'll have better luck catching this boat than I do most Australian ones.
I'll try and write in more detail when things have settled down a bit.

Hello Kitty Death Mask

You get used to seeing strange things when you live in Japan for a while.
I've entertained friends with stories of roller-coasters passing through shopping centres, hot stew in a can sold from vending machines, the active market in second-hand underwear (preferably unwashed).
But today's discovery takes the biscuit. I was walking past a chain store pharmacy when I grabbed a picture of the contraption above. Can you guess what it is? Looks like a Hello Kitty death mask, right?
In fact, it's a cover Japanese women wear as they sleep to make their faces smaller!
Bear in mind that having a tiny face and huge eyes (just like you see in all the anime and manga) is the aspirational aesthetic over here.
The box says something like, 'Wearing the germanium infused mask has a sauna-like effect, tightening skin, burning fat, and improving the overall line of the jaw.'
I think with this I can say I am leaving Japan having seen it all. Insane.
On a personal note, I'm getting nervous now. My big round-the-world trip starts in two days. I'm pretty much at the end of my to-do list. Now I'm stressing about what important things probably never made it on to the list in the first place. I will also be cleaning until my knuckles bleed for the next 48 hours, or so.
Aside from that all is good. I think I have money, tickets, passport and hotels sorted out. The rest is yet to be seen.

Priorities

I wonder what a psychologist would have to say about this?
In my apartment I no longer have a bed, a gas cooker, a table.
And yet my internet connection and corkscrew are still fully operational... and will be until just before I leave.
Hmmm???

Out of luck

My recent run of good luck came to an end today.
You know, everything has been running so smoothly for me. Like, the whole university thing, the big trip, finally getting most of my stuff packed, posted or recycled.
But today I opened the post box to find my annual city and precture tax bill. It's only gone and doubled since last year. Not a pleasant surprise.
It seems that they have reformed the tax law to rebalance the monies going to national, prefectural and city governments. Before there used to be three tax brackets in Kanagawa: at a 5%, 10% or 13% rate. Now, they've decided to impose a flat 10%rate on most people regardless of their income.
They couldn't have waited one more year to introduce this social revolution? It's lukcy I'm a saver, I'll tell you that much.
So as a foreign resident, what do I get for giving the city 10% of my income?
Voting rights? No.
Pension or health care? No.
Police protection? In theory, yes. But have you seen the bang up job these guys have been doing lately? The guy who killed the Nova teacher still hasn't been caught - and there were 9 police officers there at the time of arrest!
So I figure I'm paying all that money for public lighting and rubbish collection. And you all know that if the item is over 50cm you have to pay again for it to be collected!
At this stage I'd be willing to have the public lights turned off if they would give me some of my hard earned money back.
I can carry a torch.

Memories of the Manly Ferry

Today has been a weird day of disjointed time.
I went out last night and had some food and some drinks and ended up missing the last train home. I'd confused the weekday and the weekend timetables. Woops!
For someone who is so anal and controlling about many things, I'm incredibly lax when it comes to getting myself home safely and on time. Memories of missed Sydney ferries, sleeping on beaches, and mysterious telephone numbers found in pockets are flooding back to me. The shame.
But I'm nothing if not an optimist. I took this 1am surprise as a chance to get some exercise and enjoy a beautiful, creamy pink, waning moon.
I ended up walking some 20km in 4 hours. For those of you who know Tokyo, I made it from Seijo to Machida without stopping. By the time I got to Machida the moon had abadnoned me, the sun was up, and the first train was about ready to pull out of the station at 5.11am.
There was a surprisingly large number of people joinging me on that first train of shame. Who ever said the Japanese aren't party people?
I slept a solid 8 hours and woke up today without even the slightest muscle twinge or joint ache. I wasn't even tired, just confused about what time of day it was at all at all.
In the end, it was a great little adventure and I got to say a private, nightime goodbye to the city I love so well.
P.S. For those of you who think I'm crazy, a taxi home at that time of night would have cost me about 90 euro (14,000 yen) - enough to keep me alive in Malaysia for several days.