Kuala Lumpur

Kuala Lumpur is hot. The humid air smells of spice and perfume and swirling fans carry the music of voices in a language unknown  to me.

KL is suprisingly green and chilled, pockets of tropical parks in the centre of the city and quiet. Not at all the chaotic Bangkokian metropolis that I was expecting.

But it still possesses the Asian style chaos that I find so deeply appealing: the hand of history peeling back the paint, the touch and wear of time, of lives, and unfinished futures hanging in the air.


The large shopping centre next door to my hostel was ground floor America : Borders, Esprit, Western Union, 7 Eleven...



but as the floor numbers grew things changed. By floor five I was being accosted by people wanting to unleash feet eating fish upon me.



and by floor seven.... a full size indoor rollercoaster.. whoah.


But I was headed straight for a massage : my first  in six months. I have been so consumed and overtaken by loss and unexpected, unwanted change in my life, that I've built up  twisted bundles of suffering in my muscles.  The pain the Malaysian woman's hands untwisted from my back and (unexpectedly) the back of my legs was quite simply insane.



and there's much more untwisting to come on this holiday road....