Day 2: KL, Chinatown and other markets

Dear diary, today I walked and ate. And walked and ate. And walked. And ate.

Though, in comparison to what I’ve previously been guilty of putting in my mouth, I took it fairly easy today. After my customary first night away from home that takes forever to get to sleep (I’ve been trained to wait for the cat to get comfortable, so when there’s no cat, I just wait…) as well as the room being a little less effective at keeping the outside light and sound out, I woke up a little meh. Probably also from sleeping in aircon, in a different bed, wth different pillows, you know, all the crap that comes with getting older.

Meh or not, I faced the morning, heading west where I found myself back at Jalan Alor, which looks very different in daylight, quite deserted, with only a few food stands open. I stopped at a halal stand and grabbed a chicken omelette and hot milk tea, because hey, when I’m already sweaty why not have a hot breakfast. I’m pleased to say the tea was good, with a richness possibly from evaporated milk, and a hint of sugar, and good strong tea taste. It hit the spot. The omelette was also good, it arrived nicely square, and full of chicken and chili and such local veg as peas, corn, and carrots (peas? really? oh well.)

From there I did the 1.6 km walk to Petaling St, the hub of Chinatown. Well, it was probably closer to 2km when a couple of wrong turns, and detours around road works are added. Not a huge distance, but far enough, and at least I found the big arches okay.

So, Chinatown, big market, Petaling St, all the lists include it as a must see: tell us all what you thought of it, Mr miniscule-shot travel blogger?

Meh. No, that’s an over statement, somewhere a little short of meh.

If you’re looking for knock off fashion goods and accessories, tacky souvenirs, watches, dodgy trinkets, more watches, general crap, sir would you like to buy a watch, and t-shirts running the gamut from tacky and cheap to being in the worst possible taste (want a red t-shirt with a black swastika in the middle anyone? Anyone? Nope, didn’t think so.). In summary, other than the food, the goods on offer here are pretty shitty and barely worth the time or money. There were a few places behind the crappy market stands that looked interesting, offering random things of better quality, but market fatigue got the better of me and I didn’t get to check them out. Petaling St, tick and done.

That said, the area around the main drag is quite interesting. I stopped at the kitsch-ish Bubble Bee cafe first for a blue/violet tea (butterfly pea, fun stuff, just add lemon) and then later in the day for a black sesame waffle cone with matcha and red bean (very yummy, though a little hard to eat given the presentation, requiring the cone to be held in one hand, while the plastic spork in plastic wrap needs another two hands to unwrap). Great flavours, worthy of a trip advisor 4 star review. Why not 5? Here’s the thing:

travel in places like SE Asia leave a bit of a bitter taste in my mouth (and I haven’t got to the stinky tofu bit, that comes later…) due to all of the waste. I’ve been here two days and already lost count of how many plastic bottles of water I’ve drunk (I have been carrying the empties around with me and leaving thse in a neat pile in my hotel room, in the hope that at least they do something meaningful in their disposal). Every time I’ve bought water I’ve had to get them to take it out of the plastic bag — these folks are the fastest baggers in the East. All the utensils come in plastic wrap, plastic straws come with everything. Not even taking into account the fuel to get me here and haul my righteous Western arse around, my environmental footprint here is uncomfortably large. So what’s the solution? Stay home and miss out on the valuable experience being in a foreign country provides? I just don’t know, but I do know that my pacsafe satchel of empty plastic bottles feels a little heavier than is completely comfortable.

I also took a wander through the Sentral Market, via the Kasturi Walk, and found it to be a bit more chilled. Quite literally, as the Sentral Market is enclosed and airconditioned, ahhhhh. The traders in there are also less pushy, and the goods better quality, mostly clothes and local knick knacks and souvenirs. I thought about getting a tacky shirt or two but resisted, not feeling the haggling mojo. I haven’t spent much MYR so far, other than on food. So I should probably do some shopping soon.

I also stopped to admire the Masjid Jamek mosque, at least from a bit of a distance (it was during prayer time and wearing shorts, I wasn’t quite dressed appropriately). It’s quite a beautiful building, located where the Gombak River joins the Klang River. Apparently this is the spot, the “muddy confluence” that gives KL its name.

For lunch I grabbed a seat at a little stall in Chinatown and had a selection of steamed dumplings, all very tasty, and at 5 for 6MYR, definitely good value.

Then it was a Grab back to the hotel for a bit of a recharge, both for me and the phone (thanks to the local sim I’ve been using maps a lot to navigate, as well as posting pics n stuff to social media and sharing with L, so the battery has been taking a bit of a hit that it isn’t used to). An added bonus to the afternoon recharge between 3ish and 6ish is that I miss the regular afternoon rain, waking to damp streets and a bit of freshness in the air.

Of course, 6-7pm is definitely deep into peak traffic, so the Grab that was to take me to the Connaught night market was 8 minutes away for a solid 40 minutes. He then proceeded to demonstrate an unerring knack of picking the slow lane, and trying to keep enough space in front to land any random A380, but as long as I could sit back in the a/c I didn’t mind.

The Connaught market is about 2km of stalls, a mix of food, mobile phone accessories, clothes, women’s underwear, other accessories, more food, fruit and vegetables, and miscellaneous merchandise. It’s a bit out of the regular tourist path, and attracts a more local crowd. It also appeared to be a popular spot for couples, judging by the number of young women who were holding umbrellas over young men’s heads. It definitely has more of a young crowd, and being less touristy the traders aren’t very pushy at all.

I started easy, with just a sausage on a stick, before a small bowl of asam laksa. I like asam laksa, but have to say I prefer the coconut and chili version a little more. From this I moved on to something called salty egg fish skin, which is salty crunchy fishy deep fried goodness. I’m quite pleased to have tried this. Then came breakfast on a stick: a skewer of small eggs (bird of origin unknown, though I just hope these were somehow sustainably and uncruelly sourced) cooked in tiny cups with a slice of sausage on top, then smothered with a white sauce and a chili sauce, and were quite good. Then came the stinky tofu.

I’d heard about stinky tofu, and even heard it could be found at these markets. So I wandered, and wondered, and didn’t see anything that resembled my vision of this substance. I did see a queue, about 20 people long (longer than any other at the markets) for a stand selling what looked like deep fried tofu in a number of flavours. I didn’t think much the first time I went by. But then I wandered past again, and there was still a queue. My English ancestry kicked in, and I joined the queue. After someone joined behind me, I asked them what we were queueing for.

“It’s a kind of different tofu,” was the reply.

“Ah, stinky tofu?”

“I don’t know that term, but definitely different tofu, it tastes very strong,” she said.

So it sounded like I’d found it. When it was my turn, I went with the basic 4-piece original recipe, though with a mix of fascination and dread noted the server gave me 5 pieces. These deep fried pieces were then covered in cabbage and a sweetish chili sauce, and only a few MYR later I was on my way. I’ll start by saying that it isn’t that stinky, at least not after deep frying, there were many smells in the markets more pungent (and I’m not even talking about durian).

However, it tastes something like a really bad fart wrapped in horse shit and sprinkled with bleach.

Now I like most stinky food, stinky cheese, durian, belacan, give me big bold aromas and flavours. But this, this wasn’t that, this was just not quite right. Though I ate all 5 pieces, possibly cursing the generosity of the server, I can confidently state that I don’t need to eat this again. It’s not that my body rejected it, there’s no tales of vomit here tonight, but just no, my palate says no to stinky tofu.

It took a spicy baby octopus on a stick and a cup of lychee and basil bubble tea (where they gave me a bag even though I said multiple times no bag) to take the taste away. Yes I have queued for and consumed the stinky tofu, and now you don’t have to, you really don’t.

The Grab ride back was a lot faster, and impressed me by taking a different way to others which included some stunning views of the Petronas towers lit up, and a restaurant with a big lobster out front, and a bare minimum of road works.

Tomorrow I’m pondering heading over to the Indian neighbourhood to check things out over there. I’ll let you know how I go, and if the stinky tofu gives me creepy dreams.