5 May 2025
I’m not often impressed by cities.
They usually feel like a lifeless game of Tetris on fast forward — glass and metal boxes stacking skyward, while people rush through their routines with expressionless faces, barely noticing life passing them by. Malls blur into sameness. Business parks feel sterile. The shine starts to feel suffocating.
But Kuala Lumpur is different.
I had enjoyed my day out so much yesterday that I decided to do it again today. The train system here is delightfully simple and inexpensive. Friendly faces offered shy smiles in every direction. The streets were surprisingly clean and calm, and the city’s famous landmarks genuinely impressive.
I don’t usually stop to ask strangers to take pictures of me in front of modern buildings — but there I was, striking a pose in front of the Petronas Twin Towers, joining the crowd of tourists for my very own Instagram moment. I loved the energy of this city, and there were still more places I wanted to explore.
As I wandered, I found a curious little staircase tucked into the sidewalk — its walls decorated with Japanese writing and lantern-lit posters. Naturally, I had to follow it. What I found was a vibrant underground food hub — tiny cafés, ducks and chickens hanging in windows, bright neon signs and the scent of sizzling noodles in the air. I couldn’t resist. Soon I was seated at a tiny table, savoring a plate of rice and duck for brunch, grinning at this hidden gem I’d stumbled across.
After snapping a few pictures, I continued my mission: clothes shopping. I still hadn’t found any swimwear — at least, none that didn’t cost a fortune — and shorts were proving just as elusive. Shopping in Asia is not for the faint-hearted (or the full-thighed). I’ve never been a size 2, but I certainly didn’t expect to be a size 5XL either! The tiny lacy shorts giggled at me from shop windows, knowing full well I’d never squeeze my proud South African thighs into them. I eventually gave up, accepting that two pairs of shorts would have to do.
Back home, it was time to pack — again.
A growing excitement fluttered in my chest — the islands were calling. I had a long night bus ride ahead, but at least I wouldn’t be traveling alone. I’d connected with another girl through the Host A Sister group on Facebook — while she couldn’t host me, she was also heading to Perhentian Islands, and we planned to travel together.
Alexia kindly offered to drive me to the station. The bus was scheduled to leave at 10 PM, so we had dinner and put little Stella to bed before setting off. Alexia wasn’t in much of a hurry — the station seemed close, and she knew the city. I was a bit more on edge — I prefer to be too early rather than risk being late. But I trusted her judgment.
When we arrived at the station, I messaged my friend… and as soon as she replied, I knew something was wrong. A sinking feeling crept in. Then I checked the ticket again. My heart dropped — this wasn’t the right station. I was at the wrong place, and my bus was due to depart in five minutes. The correct station was over 26km away.
Panic swelled in my chest. Alexia had already driven off, and I stood frozen for a moment, wondering if I’d be stuck here for the night, if I’d lose my ticket, miss the island, mess up my plans…
But this wasn’t my first travel mishap. I let my mind take over. I found the number for the bus company and made the call, already bracing for the worst.
To my surprise, a friendly man answered — and spoke English! I explained my situation, and within minutes he arranged for me to transfer to another bus, departing in 30 minutes from my current station. No extra charges, no fuss. I was stunned by his kindness — and by the general grace I’ve experienced from so many of the Malaysian people I’ve met.
Although my friend was already en route to the correct station and we wouldn’t get to travel together after all, my heart was lifted. The worst had been avoided.
As I boarded, I was met with the most luxurious bus I’ve seen in all my travels — wide seats, plush upholstery, and a semi-reclining position that promised a restful ride. A far cry from even the best buses in India.
With adrenaline fading and the city behind me, I finally allowed myself to exhale.
The island awaited, and morning didn’t seem so far away.
