Little Pieces

Kuala Lumpur (KL) challenges for the top of my Favourite Cities list.

Edinburgh, for sentimental reasons, is at the top. I lived there and remember its beauty and easy accessibility. I remember the grease that passed for food in the chippy stalls and the rough exterior of the people who ordered pints of beer from me. I remember my flat on Cornwall Street, whose kitchen window looked onto the stage door of the Royal Lyceum Theatre. Edinburgh was my first home abroad.

Barcelona, another favourite, was my best taste of Spain. Though in the minority for the first time and working hard to communicate, I had enough attention left to notice the variety of things to do. The plazas and cafes and people could keep a traveller occupied for weeks. Las Ramblas alone was worth days for its markets and hawkers and tourists.

The cities that impress me, then, provide a lot of different ways to keep busy: little pieces of people-watching and sight-seeing and good food all in one place. KL is certainly up to this requirement.

On my first day, the melting pot makes itself apparent. A man of Malay descent sweats over chicken satay and his grill pushes smoke onto the street theatrically so that passers-by seem to emerge from a thick fog despite the clear sky. Indian faces appear for the first time this trip, hawking shoes and watches and carpets and selling tandoori and masala and finger-scorching nan.

Sitting over noodles in Chinatown, I ask a question of the staff. "Do the Chinese people here speak Cantonese or Mandarin?"

A mute old man, whose small face is sunk inside puffy cheeks, answers with his pen. 95% Cantonese in KL, his note reads.

I sit back and consider and watch the different faces that walk by my table.

The next day, I walk to the gardens in the west of town. They offer flowers, serene little ponds and, from the hill, nice views over the city. There isn't the clatter of streets and markets, which are just a couple of kilometres away; only a park bench and my book.

My path to get there goes past the open and stately Merdeka Square, its fountain. I look up near the National Mosque and see skyscrapers super-imposed without controversy on the antiquated towers of the train station. It's a pleasant mix of old and new.

My last day sees a trip to KLCC. Here, servers in crisp uniforms navigate through tables of white linen and polished cutlery; the restaurants have clever names written in ornate letters. In the Petronas Towers mall, designer labels like Versace, Luis Vuitton and Calvin Klein keep cash entrenched in my pocket. I find a pond and a patch of shade behind the building and relax with everyone else.

This isn't an area for me to spend a lot of time, I reflect, but it's interesting nonetheless. From the centre of the mall, one can see, all at one, the six or seven levels of store names and commercial enterprise. The walls and walls of polished displays, the cash changing hands. Everything is available right here and people will pay for the convenience.

The Petronas Towers, their glitz and sheen, and KLCC are a long way from the rest of town. They do, however, add to the ambience of KL. They are a piece of the larger whole.

All of these places - KLCC, Chinatown, Little India, the gardens and Merdeka Square - are little pieces of occupation that entertain in their different ways and make KL a city of endless interest.

I'll be back in a few weeks to see what else I can find.