Collected some World Cup snippets from the local newspapers to add a little flesh to the bones of the recent pages of the diary. Tried to pick up my voice mail using the local phones, both with credit cards and coins, but this didn't work.

Time to leave for Malaysia. I took a taxi to the railway station at Keppel Road, which cost $S6.

A Piece of Malaysia in Singapore

The railway station actually belongs to the Malaysian Government, ever since 1918, that's why it's got the "Welcome to Malaysia" sign prominently displayed out front. The station has a nice "olde-worlde" feel to it—it probably hasn't changed much since it was built (though if Singapore gets its hands on it, as is threatened, this will all, unfortunately, change!). It has a large Central Waiting Hall with a dome roof. The walls are paneled with typical Malaysian scenes, such as paddy (rice) planting, rubber tapping, shipping activities, road (bullock) transportation, coconut (copra) growing and tin mining. The brass lettering on the faded wooden panels over the little shop in the corner reads "HABIB RAILWAY BOOK STORE, ESTD 1936." Right next to it there's the little wooden booth of "Pengurup Wang Asing, Money Changer", where I changed the last of my Singapore dollars into Malaysian Rinngits—I had no other cash on me except for a few Euros.

Changed money.
Rates:
1 Euro = 3.3 Malaysian rinngits.

Bought the ticket to Kuala Lumpur—it cost $S34 one-way, second class, including a reserved seat. The train left at 15:05, due to arrive at 22:00. Spoke to a couple of English chaps, who were also heading north.

Just behind the book store there's a quaint railway canteen laid out like a mini food hall, with sea-food, Indian and Malay food. Tried my first murtabak, which is something like a pancake with meat (in my case mutton) and onion in the middle. Since it came with a bowl of sauce, I wasn't sure how to eat it, but I dipped the pieces of murtabak into the sauce before eating them (which is how they'd eat it in Eastern Asia, if they had such a dish) and it was delicious, and very filling. At lunch-time an eclectic mix of young office workers, of Chinese, Malay and Indian extraction, piled in.

On one wall, affixed with sellotape, was a set of black-and-white pictures of Singapore from the start to the middle of the 20th century, many from the time of the Japanese occupation, along with the exhortation: "Singapore, defend thyself!".

Through Malaysia to Kuala Lumpur

The train trip took over six hours, through jungle and plantations. The view from the windows was interesting, and particularly because I was reading about the retreat through Malaysia prior to the fall of Singapore to the Japanese in 1942. On the train a TV showed part of the first World Cup semi-final, Germany versus South Korea. Germany won 1-0, a second-half strike by Ballack condemned Hiddink's men to defeat.

I read somewhere that the bikini is prohibited in two States of Malaysia, to banish the "hedonist influences" on the beaches. No doubt it's going to affect tourism, which is worth nearly 8 billion euros per year.

The Stesen Sentral (Central Station) in Kuala Lumpur is quite impressive—very modern, nicely laid-out, lots of facilities—in fact more reminiscent of an airport than a traditional railway station.

A Hotel in Chinatown

As I wandered around the station trying to decide where to stay for the night, the English chaps whom I had met in Singapore station kindly invited me to join them. They were on their way to a "hostel" in Chinatown, whose flyer they had been given at the station. Took a taxi, but it could not approach the hostel as the middle of the street, Jalan Petaling, was taken up with street hawkers. In trying to make our way through them we ended up walking through a market that had been closed for the evening (this was around 9:00 PM), clearing a way through the hordes of rats that scurried around the floors. Petaling Street--KL's very own Chinatown--is a hive of sound and activities. Pre-war shops and open-air roadside stalls teem with shoppers in search of bargains ranging from dresses and shoes to fabrics, costume jewelry, dried and pickled foodstuff, fruits and herbal remedies.

When we finally arrived at the hostel we found the door was padlocked. "Full" said the lady who finally appeared after we had rung the bell for about ten minutes. We looked around and spotted a hotel on the other side of the road, the Petaling hotel, that had a three-bed room and a single room next door free. My room was 49 rinngits, but it was a bit of a kip, and windowless. However, since it would be for only one or two nights, I decided to take it. However, it was a real come-down from the "fancy" places I had stayed in in Japan and Korea.

We went out to have a beer (about 8 rinngits for a large Tiger, as far as I can recall) where we met a British chap with a Rolex on his wrist and another on the table in front of him. He said he had paid 120 each for them, and we all thought he had been had. He was a strange character, and I think he was eyeing us up with the intention of trying to sell us something (probably one of the Rolex's) or try out some scam or other. Well, I wasn't about to be taken in, so after a few beers we retired to our dingy hostel for the night.