Just before I left I had lunch with my grandma Shaggy.
“You have no idea how worried your dad will be,” was one of the last things she said to me. Later I promised my dad I would facebook my whereabouts everyday I had access to the internet. So that’s what this is. You can look here to make sure I haven’t been squished, dengue fevered or kidnapped by muslim insurgents.
I’m in Kuala Lumpur and I’ve done one thing so far, eaten. My hostel seems to be right in the middle of street food mecca (maybe all of KL is like that but all I can see around me is improvised street stalls and restaurants with the design and cleanliness of a 70’s gas station). I had eaten shit all yesterday and the first thing I asked the hostel owners was which stall is the best one. They gave me one of those fluffy answers tourists get when there is some kind of assumed xenophobia. I ignored their advice and just went to the stall which had the most customers.
I got BBQ octopus, a dark rendang like curry with Lamb, a piece of ayam goreng, some roti and some eggy rice cooked in something fatty. Everything was fucking excellent. Best piece of ayam goreng I’ve ever had.
For anyone worried about my saftey:
When I was in Sweden about to embark on my journey to Svalbard a dear friend of mine gave me a terracotta whistle in the shape of blue bird. She said if you ever are in danger (Svalbard has the largest population of polar bears near any human settlement and is regularly colder than -20 C) blow the whistle and I will come and rescue you. I wore it around my neck almost everyday after. To my great sadness I lost it a while later.
While packing my room I found it at the bottom of a suitcase of memrobilia. It’s around my neck again.