Chicken and Ribs
I’m not sure how many ribs a standard chicken has but out here in ‘Little India’ it seems they have plenty. It was like eating a flat chested xylophone. Honestly, every part was another bit of rib cage.
Brickfields in Kuala Lumpur certainly lives up to its other name. Huge Indian influence , especially at Deepavali Festival time. Annoyingly loud Indian music on the streets, bright neon lights and huge numbers of stalls selling the bright sickly orange jalebi and halwa. . We finally found the dodgy looking restaurant with the even dodgier looking meat offerings in various fiery sauces and ordered lots with Tiger beer and naan bread.
Yes, as announced to the group at Heathrow, our first destination was indeed Kuala Lumpur. The goody heaven, multi cultural capital of Malaysia. As promised, significantly hotter than England in October (30 degrees !) and a fair bit more interesting. I spoilt them all with a 12 hour direct flight rather than one of those irritating flights with a three hour break in the early hours in some God forsaken middle eastern airport.
The group however know that tonight’s swanky hotel with rooftop bar and frighteningly expensive drinks is just a stepping stone to somewhere a little more ‘exotic’ in days to come.
We were 12 in number for our authentic Indian meal. The other 13 had by now scattered across the city. Many had gone to look at the Petronas Towers and posher restaurants that didn’t sell road kill chicken. Young Sean had linked up with the Swedes and vanished somewhere. Holly, having apparently been told not to travel due to a stomach bug had been out eating seafood. I’m guessing her meal cost more than ours (£54 for 12 people including several beers). Our smugness was dealt a blow as we returned to the rooftop pool and bar at the hotel though. £14 for a beer and glass of wine. We savoured them as Lucas splashed around in his pants. He’s a classy young chap.
It wasn’t a late night. Despite it only being late afternoon British time, people had plans for tomorrow and were drifting off to hit their luxurious hotel beds to catch up on sleep and blogs.
Brickfields in Kuala Lumpur certainly lives up to its other name. Huge Indian influence , especially at Deepavali Festival time. Annoyingly loud Indian music on the streets, bright neon lights and huge numbers of stalls selling the bright sickly orange jalebi and halwa. . We finally found the dodgy looking restaurant with the even dodgier looking meat offerings in various fiery sauces and ordered lots with Tiger beer and naan bread.
Yes, as announced to the group at Heathrow, our first destination was indeed Kuala Lumpur. The goody heaven, multi cultural capital of Malaysia. As promised, significantly hotter than England in October (30 degrees !) and a fair bit more interesting. I spoilt them all with a 12 hour direct flight rather than one of those irritating flights with a three hour break in the early hours in some God forsaken middle eastern airport.
The group however know that tonight’s swanky hotel with rooftop bar and frighteningly expensive drinks is just a stepping stone to somewhere a little more ‘exotic’ in days to come.
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| The baggage awaiting more baggage |
We were 12 in number for our authentic Indian meal. The other 13 had by now scattered across the city. Many had gone to look at the Petronas Towers and posher restaurants that didn’t sell road kill chicken. Young Sean had linked up with the Swedes and vanished somewhere. Holly, having apparently been told not to travel due to a stomach bug had been out eating seafood. I’m guessing her meal cost more than ours (£54 for 12 people including several beers). Our smugness was dealt a blow as we returned to the rooftop pool and bar at the hotel though. £14 for a beer and glass of wine. We savoured them as Lucas splashed around in his pants. He’s a classy young chap.
It wasn’t a late night. Despite it only being late afternoon British time, people had plans for tomorrow and were drifting off to hit their luxurious hotel beds to catch up on sleep and blogs.
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