I have just returned from KL. It was a delight, which is not something I say very often about KL – usually too busy, too crowded, too traffic jammed. But this time I stayed in Putray Jaya with a friend, and it was a pleasure.
We walked around the lake, seeing egrets lined up in the trees and herons flying with their graceful legs horizontal behind them.
A tiny squirrel hopped across the patio outside the dining room. The birds sang. The weather was clear.
And it is only about half an hour from the airport which can only be a bonus.
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I expect you know all this, but it was news to me, and I have warned my hosts that they are probably stuck with regular visits.
When we went into town, we enjoyed malls with fewer people and many more sales, oh joy.
I have bought some Christmas presents for my sons, and – because I’ m not physically able to pass a garment I like that is marked down – I was very pleased I had left space in my suitcase.
I was soooo pleased to find an art shop which does online and delivers to Sabah as a matter of course (Pos Laju though, so I may be getting excited too soon), and stocked up on my water-based oil paints which are not available in Sabah, and also some hog brushes which I have greatly missed. Whether these will actually improve my painting is of course debatable, but it can’t be bad, can it?
I also met two famous and rightfully respected thespians – actress Pearlly Chua and teacher and director Chin San Sooi - who are behind the famous performances of Emily of Emerald Hill.
We are hoping to bring them and it to Sabah for the first time ever next year if MCO allows and it was a pleasure to meet them.
They took us to lunch to the Little Heritage House Nyonya Museum and restaurant, which was fascinating – floors of inlaid mother of pearl furniture, old hand-stitched clothes, a wonderfully over the top wedding headdress, jewellery, photographs, and unbroken sets of china and enamel, including old painted tiffin carriers, which San Sooi had a yen for (if that’s the correct phrase!).
I loved a delicate set of plates painted with crickets, and Pearlly remains sold on a blue painted enamel cooking set.
After rambling over the first floor, looking into glass cases and admiring the artefacts, we sat down at a marble-topped round table and were treated to fresh, tasty Nyonya food – a bit of a novelty for me.
We were lucky to be with Pearlly and San Sooi who knew what they were talking about, and munched our way cheerfully through three courses with no effort at all! A special place, that lives up to its name – it reminds us of an important aspect of KL’s heritage.
The only fly in the ointment – and I use the word fly advisedly – was when I was left at the airport to come back to Sabah.
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I really shouldn’t be allowed out on my own.
I had checked in in advance. I had (admittedly slightly over weight) hand luggage and I was in plenty of time.
What could possibly go wrong?
My flight number wasn’t on the board (I think it was 5014) but another around the same time was – with just one digit different. 5104 I think.
I looked for mine, couldn’t find it and thought it had been typed wrong. After a bit of transference of heavy items from one bag to another to obey a more fussy than usual official (fair enough, it’s his job, although I am still taking the same weight on to the plane so I don’t really understand why, but rules is rules) I walked airily to my gate, sat down and went on reading my latest Robert Galbraith book (Troubled Blood - highly recommended) feeling superior and in control.
When the flight was called my troubles started. For starters the attendant was fussy about me being a foreigner and spoke to me in that annoying words-of-one-syllable way Jobsworths have – did I have a visa ? (while she had my passport in her hand) and so on.
Then with delight she told me that I was at the wrong gate, for the wrong flight, that it had taken off, and I would have to make my long long way to Air Asia sales desk and buy another ticket. No chance of getting on this flight.
Miserably, I plodded along the echoing corridors. The next plane left in about an hour, so I had to look sharp.
I found a nice lady in her red suit who took me to another nice lady in a red suit who took pity on the snivelling orang putih and sold me a ticket – less expensive than I expected but no longer special low fare.
I paid extra for a hot seat to cheer myself up, and avoided the transference malarkey by checking in my little suitcase.
After that all was fine, and my purse was considerably lighter so that helped too.
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The flight was comfortable, I had nobody sitting next to me, my dear friend was at KK to collect me.
But honestly, my real flight was not on the board.
I looked hard for it, and should have asked for information. That’s the moral of this story. Do NOT assume anything. It’ll cost you.
And one last thing – Poetry is a pleasure
This week, Thira Mohammed invited prize-winning Iban poet and very nice man Kulleh Grasi to join her and participants for the session on Poetry at Home. It was inspiring.
Moving. Involving. We all need this sort of thing in our lives, and we are so lucky to have access to it with Thira and with WordPower Sabah.
Even if you don’t want to write poetry, you should listen to it, or read it. It gets a bad rap – people are scared of it, and that means they miss out on all sorts of stuff that makes life better. Honestly.
Join Thira this Thursday at 8.30pm and see what I mean. www.Wordpowersabah.my