After 60 minutes of sitting on a bus bursting at its seams (listening to an obnoxious Australian woman in a low-cut black dress complain about the delays and say repeatedly ‘How hard can it be to drive a bus?!’), and another 60 minutes travelling, we turned into a Marriott resort complex outside of Kuala Lumpur. Most people were in downright terrible moods, but we were all grins as we checked into the 5-star hotel. As it was already 2AM, we collapsed into bed but resolved to travel into the city the following day, as we knew the eruption wouldn’t be a single day disruption. In the morning, we dashed to the hotel’s business center to go online and secure the next night’s lodging. We quickly decided we should make the most of the situation and booked a room in downtown KL - I lucked out and found an amazing deal at a 5-star business hotel called The Traders. As we secured spots on the one free shuttle into the city, Mark quickly checked emails he had sent out to people who might be familiar with KL. Sure enough, his brother Bill had written back multiple suggestions and had included a link to a New York Times article on the city. As it turned out, the hotel we had booked was featured in the article and contained the best rooftop bar in the city complete with swimming pool. We looked at each other and beamed with excitement.
The hotel lived up to its reputation; we checked into our immaculate, modern-designed room after sipping freshly squeezed orange juice in the lobby. The hotel sits right on the corner of KLCC Park and has amazing views of the iconic Petronas Towers on the other side. From our room, Mark looked down at the mile long running track the snaked its way through the park, and anticipated the next morning’s run. After a quick freshening up, we went out to the aquarium and spent the afternoon ogling the exotic species, and feeling like we had cut school.
|Mark in KLCC Park. The Petronas towers are behind him.|
|Mark, relaxing on the faux-beach at the Aquaria.|
The next morning we settled into our routine – we woke up, watched CNN or BBC news for updates on the volcano and both tried desperately to reach our airline to determine whether we needed to arrange another night’s lodging. Inevitably, we would be kept on hold for over twenty minutes at a time, be disconnected and forced to make another call (all, we should note, roaming on our work Blackberries). Then, there would be another mad dash to the Business Center of the hotel to arrange lodging. We were able to score a second night at the Traders Hotel, but eventually moved to another 5 star resort, the Royal Chulan for the next three nights.
One of the best places Mark’s brother directed us to was the National Museum of Islamic art. After getting incredibly helpful advice from a ticket agent, we negotiated a train and then a cab ride across the city. This gave us a view of a less modern city and brought us through the Islamic heart of KL. The museum contained various collections of Islamic art through the ages from textiles to inlaid furniture to paintings to an entire room showing models of the most important mosques of the Islamic world. It was incredibly interesting to compare and contrast the different styles and regions interpretations of a house of worship. Additionally the architecture of the museum itself was amazing to explore.
Each day, we tried to do something new in the city, but we also explored a lot on foot – the city was hot but it was bustling, and each neighborhood had hidden jewels of modern and old architecture, food stalls and markets. It was everything that we had hoped Ubud would be but wasn’t, and we sampled amazing food everywhere we went. One of our favorites was a tiny Indian restaurant with amazing briyani and dosas, and we came back several times. We wanted to get some pictures of the food, but sadly couldn’t wait to inhale it:
|Near the train station.|
|Downtown, near the Suria mall.|
|The entrance to the Batu Caves (and most ridiculous taxi ride ever - so we took the bus home)|
|The Batu Caves. Home to very aggressive monkeys who like to stalk you with their teeth bared (I didn't like them any better in Malaysia than I did in the Sacred Monkey Forest of Ubud).|
|A pretty tasty Chinese meal.|
|Jalan Alor, a street that shuts down after 5pm for street food.|
|Delicious (and cheap) street food.|
|The best Indian I've ever had... Especially the dosas.|
Not too bad, indeed! For 50 GBP a night, we were pretty psyched.
(The rooftop pool didn’t hurt, either)
Finally, on April 22, we received word that UK airspace was reopening and after a few additional last-minute dramas (we were booked on a flight, then we were removed; Malaysian Airlines lost our confirmation number; we had to rush to the central train station and wait with other stranded passengers and were tentatively booked on an unconfirmed flight; the flight was confirmed but diverted to Gatwick from Heathrow…) we were finally ready to go home.
But not before one last stop, at the indoor rollercoaster/theme park in another mall near our apartment. I hate rides like this, especially ones that go upside down, but I also knew Mark had been dying to go and within moments, I found myself upside down, eyes shut and tears streaming down my face. After the rollercoaster, an Indian family convinced us to go on another ride, the DNA Mixer, which flipped us upside down and shook us like a Heinz ketchup bottle. It hurt a lot, and we felt sick for hours afterwards.
The next morning, we packed our bags a final time and said good-bye to the apartment. We took a train to the airport and laughed about our adventures. At the check-in desk, however, there was one more wrench: we weren’t seated together, and the plane had been re-diverted to Heathrow, meaning our connection in Gatwick had to be changed. The front desk was singularly un-helpful on both counts, but after a lot of back and forth, told us they had found a connection, but couldn’t confirm before we boarded our long-haul flight. They gave us the flight number, promised it would be confirmed while we were in flight, and we resigned ourselves to our fates and dragged ourselves to our gate, which was absolutely mobbed with over-stressed UK travelers.
A few minutes before our flight was called, however, our names were called over the loudspeaker. Mark scurried up to the desk, shrugging as he returned and saying that our seats had changed. Then, in a quiet whisper, he said we had been upgraded to business class.
Can I just point out that if you are going to go on a 13 hour flight, business class is most definitely the way to go? OK, there, we said it: fully reclinable seats, ample legroom, complimentary (and unlimited) drinks, real silverware, 4 course meals, 2 (two!) desserts? Pretty awesome, and we appreciated it all the more after the drama at the front desk.
This would normally be the part where we would add a few final notes about the amazing an unexpected end to our honeymoon, and how Kuala Lumpur ended up being one of our favorite parts… but sadly, however, our adventures didn’t end there.
When we arrived at Heathrow, we were handed ‘Priority’ passes for Customs. We dashed by all the sorry saps waiting in the plebeian line and went to a special line for business class customers. Which was manned by a single Customs official, and he wasn’t moving quickly. Fast-forward 70 minutes and we raced down to baggage claim, found our bags amid the chaos and dashed out of Terminal 4. Except to get to Terminal 5, for our BA connection, involved a train to Terminal 3 and another to Terminal 5; each ran every 15 mins, and we missed both.
Of course we missed our connection, and went to the BA desk to figure out if there was a later flight. There wasn’t, and there was no record of us having been booked on the one we missed (thanks, Malaysian Airlines!). They could get us on one from Gatwick the following morning, but that would cost us over 40 pounds to travel on the airport shuttle. We looked at eachother and just wanted to get home – and we walked away from the desk to the car rental phones. At 1AM, we booked a rental car and Mark, the champion husband he is, drove us the four hours home to Liverpool.
-----------------------------------------------------Moral of this (admittedly long, and long-overdue) story: when planning your honeymoon to an exotic tropical locale, do your best to 'coincidentally' find yourself stranded there for an extra week or so due to a natural disaster. It's totally worth it.