On the plane from KL to Paris- 0930 local time- ½ an hour late waiting for 3 passengers who didn’t turn up after check-in, so then had to wait while their baggage was off-loaded. I’m happy about that. Also had to wait in a long queue of aeroplanes for clearance for take-off. About 4 immediately in front of us, and about 6 behind us with more arriving all the time.
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| Leaving fo Paris- Orly |
Boarding the plane to Orly
Had an early start this morning- alarm went at 5am- not enough sleep after being woken constantly by mad football supporters who were watching a game on the television outside at the restaurant next door. Kept cheering very loudly and enthusiastically each time a goal was scored. I think they were British (later, I’ve heard they were locals who love the British football and it was probably Chelsea vs. Man. United or Arsenal), don’t know if it was an FA Cup game, a premier division or an international, but the team they supported were doing well at 3.30am! I was late to bed anyway because we did all our packing knowing we had an early start, and then went out to dinner at a little “restoran” next door. Hilary and I shared chicken Makhala we think it was called- it was a butter
Butter chicken Hilary with Butter Chicken and cucumber
chicken with jasmine rice and little poppadum chips.
Half way through the meal Hilary looked at Di’s plate and decided she (Hilary) needed some cucumber so we said, “go and ask for some”, me thinking she wouldn’t. Well she was off like a shot, confidently negotiating with the waitress, and soon after arriving back at the table with a little plate of sliced cucumber peeled with a special peeler that made it look pretty.
Di had fried rice with mixed vegetables and chicken- unfortunately though the flavour was delicious it was too oily and we both suffered the consequences. The meal for the 3 of us cost 35RM which is about $16.50 NZ, served in a clean, tidy roof-top restaurant, way above the noise and smell of the local area. The lemonade we had was $5RM (about $2.30) – normally it’s about 70cents NZ at the convenience store.
Fried Rice KL Tower
After dinner Hilary and Di went back to the room and had showers, blogged (Di) while Hilary finished “The Princess of Egypt”. I went for a long walk around the Bintang Bukit area-very active and loud.
Night time near Bukit Bintang.
Much hustle and bustle, lights, action, colour. I took a left at one point and noticed the KL Tower, lit up and looking fantastical, so walked towards it to get a photo. Next thing I saw the twin towers looking even more majestical so I wandered along a thronging street, live with music pounding, fairy lights in blue and white, and Blackpool illumination-like displays of string lights. It was very obviously the club scene with many Westerners hanging out drinking beer and gyrating to the beat. I did get various photos of the towers – unfortunately from my angle there was only one as the second was obscured behind the front one. Also unfortunately as with all these fantastic visions the photos fail to capture the true beauty and magnitude of the scene/light/experience. I’ll post what I got, but it is truly a poor representation of reality. Anyway I walked and walked, sort of lured by the sight of the silvery blue monolith rising in the distance. The sheer size makes it appear much closer than it actually is, as I walked I caught glimpses of the tops before losing them behind another towering structure in the foreground, then there’d be another glimpse, ever closer, drawing me on.
Petronas Twin Towers
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| Inside Lot 10 |
Eventually I decided I needed to go back, never quite reaching my goal, probably apt really as I couldn’t ever truly capture it anyway, best to leave it at that. So I turned back, my return less direct than I had envisaged, but always heading in the right direction, never actually lost.
The local area was alive too, more so than I’d seen it before, but we’d always ventured out earlier.
Scenes just around the corner from our hostel
Yesterday, being our last day in KL we wanted to catch the last of the “must sees” on our agenda. We were optimistic (or I was) about what we could achieve, but we did well, and it’s always good to have things you want to come back to a city for, “unfinished business”, rather than “been there, done that, can’t wait to get out of here”. We did enjoy it and there is so much still to see even in KL itself, let alone the rest of Malaysia and indeed Asia. We started the morning walking to Bintang Bukit to see the National Geographic Store in the Lot 10 Mall. Another impressive, clean and orderly building filled with the welcome chill of air-conditioning.
The N.G. store itself was disappointing however, with very little for sale other than a few soft toys, sunglasses, magazines and over-the-top expensive tee-shirts. After that we caught the monorail (one of Hilary’s “must dos”- only 1.60 RM each (about 70 cents) for a ride of a few kms to Chinatown.
Our monorail train approaching
Buddhist Temple
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| Inside the Central Markets |
The tickets were very pretty, and we thought would be great souvenirs but of course to get out of the station again you had to put your ticket in a ticket eating machine. What a disappointment! Once here we explored 2 Buddhist temples, they were adorned with typical ceramic decorations on the outside, little Buddha’s, dragons, people, dogs, and wonderful tiles, including huge three dimensional friezes.
Inside were various altars with different facets of life catered to, e.g. prosperity or merit which you could give a monetary gift to. There were offerings of fruit, and incense burning. I surreptitiously watched a young woman praying at one of the altars, she had a pile of sticks in a pouch type thing she shook around releasing one randomly. It seemed to have something written on it, whether it was like a fortune cookie, or a task or prayer to complete I’m not sure. She repeated a similar process with a different set of sticks, did her thing and then left, I’m not sure more fulfilled than when she arrived, but the ambience inside the temple was certainly peaceful and meditative.
Hilary had been happy to sit outside in the shade reading her book, but when I went and told her she had the opportunity to go and light some incense she was in like a shot. She chose to give a monetary offering to “merit” no discussion from me (I chose prosperity- aware the big lotto at home still hasn’t gone ($34million but I’m not there to buy a ticket). Anyhow, Hilary went to town with the incense, I’m not sure how many she lit – she tells me each little sand pit had one of her sticks by the time she was finished- so if volume is the currency for a good and prosperous life and after-life she is sorted!!!
We took photos of various altars and decorations, and also the customary shots of the local cats! There were two here, a gorgeous plumper than ours Siamese/Burmese type- we didn’t stroke it, but if Speedy at the hostel is any guide it would have had an almost downy pelt, very thick and incredibly soft- almost like angora/mohair. There was also a little again very soft looking tabby who was content to lie low, and stay curled up under the table.
After the temples we ventured into Chinatown on our way to the central Markets. We bought our usual fruit lunch, mango, pineapple, honey dew melon, watermelon, but also tried “Thai apple” a beautiful pinky/red bell shaped fruit the size of a small pear, with a similar texture and flavour to a cross between an apple, pear and nashi. Very crisp and juicy. We also had a Josapine – again similar to a nashi but much bigger – don’t know for sure what it looks like when whole, but saw a large green fruit similar to a nashi which could have been it, I asked the vendor but they didn’t understand what I was asking, though most of the people here seem to have excellent understanding of English. The street stalls we have been frequenting for our ready meals sells portions of fruit in a plastic bag with a kebab stick, already for piercing and gobbling on the go. 1.20RM each. Hilary gave the mango and Josapine a big thumbs up, wasn’t so keen on the Thai apple. I enjoyed it all (with the exception of durian!!!!) and not so fond of fresh lychees, though they are growing on me (so to speak) with multiple exposures.
We went to the central market to get some souvenirs for Hilary to send to her mates at school, and to buy some postcards. We sat upstairs at the cool food court drinking fizzy and writing 8 postcards between us I think – it was nice just to relax and think of friends and family back home. We also bought a couple of traditional hats- a Malayan straw/bamboo one and a black velvet one from a really friendly, passionate and chatty bloke.
Hilary and the "fez" seller ? The post police?
Our next stop was the post-office to post some of our purchases home, rather than to carry them further away. What a rigmarole – the postcards were easy- 50 cents each (but 2 stamps so hard to find room on our full pages) - that’s pretty cheap! Only 23 cents N to post an international airmail postcard! Our next chores were a little more problematic! Finding the “parcel counter” – you would think would be easy, well it was, but which parcel counter is the issue!! We had six different counter experiences (some more than once) being shunted from one place to another. Different sized parcels are sent from different counters (3 floors apart) but you have to try to guess where the box that your things fit into will be sold and sent from. All very well, but when you have a traditional Malayan hat that wasn’t made with international postage in mind it creates difficulties. Eventually we had it sorted. Or so we thought! 23Rm for the box (surface- up to 3 months and 3.60 for the padded envelope and postage for Hilary’s bookmarks to her friends at school. I addressed Hilary’s parcel, Di headed off to another counter to address and post the bigger box, then Hilary and I went to post the little parcel and postcards. Easy, done and dusted, chores complete (finally) let’s meet up with Di, get out of this building, and go to the mosque. Chatting with Di, notice something tucked under her arm. “Di, what’s that under your arm?” say I. She looked at me in puzzlement and said in quite an incredulous tone (read what you want into that, “That’s the stuff you were supposed to put in the envelope and post to Hilary’s school. What have you done with the envelope and stamps?” “Closed it up, put the stamps on and posted it, as instructed”, say I. Duhh, I thought she had put the things in the envelope already, I didn’t have them, and the envelope (padded remember) felt fat enough to be bulging with gifts!!! So the kids at St Albans are about to receive a really exciting empty (but with quite lovely stamps) parcel all the way from Malaysia, with love from Hilary!!!! It will be followed hot on its heels by another one, the real deal, with contents even!!!!
While we were participating in our extensive tour of the Kuala Lumpur main post-office (very like an old NZ post shop, especially the old Hereford Street one (now Council building)) the heavens really opened up again. This thunderstorm made yesterday’s seem like a very pathetic attempt by the Gods to do a thunderstorm. The crashing, flashing and booming were accompanied by torrential rain. I mean singing in the shower at home style- even the water was a similar temperature. I tried to capture it in a photo but couldn’t – I did take some video but viewed it yet
The river before the rain (but higher than yesterday) During the rain, water 2-3 metres higher 1/2 an hour later
We got a little damp as we walked but the city is pretty well set up for rain with a lot of coverings so it is possible to make your way, not necessarily directly but by a circuitous route to where you are going. However due to the delay at the post office and the heavens weeping we decided we couldn’t do the mosque we had planned to visit as it is mostly open air, and as we emerged from the post office we heard the calling for worshippers which we had learnt on a previous occasion meant that outsiders couldn’t visit at that time. So instead we headed back to the hostel, dried off, packed our bags and had a quick rest before heading out for dinner.
We got a little damp as we walked but the city is pretty well set up for rain with a lot of coverings so it is possible to make your way, not necessarily directly but by a circuitous route to where you are going. However due to the delay at the post office and the heavens weeping we decided we couldn’t do the mosque we had planned to visit as it is mostly open air, and as we emerged from the post office we heard the calling for worshippers which we had learnt on a previous occasion meant that outsiders couldn’t visit at that time. So instead we headed back to the hostel, dried off, packed our bags and had a quick rest before heading out for dinner.
This morning, all went well, the taxi arrived at 5.50am, we loaded the car and off we went in the dark, to be deposited at the correct terminal for the correct price (75RM) which though quite a lot was not bad for an hours ride, and the driver isn’t allowed to pick up fares from the airport, so he had to journey all the way back to town for no fee. We found the counter easily and were pleased to see that there were very few people in the queue, unlike when we had tried to check-in in Christchurch. So we got up to the counter with well over an hour to leisurely shop, buy a coffee, and prepare for our 13+ hour flight to Paris. So we thought. There’s always an ending like this to one of those “it’s all going smoothly” stories isn’t there? We had one bag on the scales, thinking smugly to ourselves, “oh cool, Hilary’s bag is only 10kgs, that allows us plenty of leeway with the rest of our stuff,” not that I was particularly worried about the weight of Di and my packs. I mean I knew they were heavy, and a bit of a struggle to carry, but we are allowed 25kg each and that is pretty heavy! And we were well under on our way over from NZ and hadn’t acquired anything of weight while here. Well of course it wasn’t our baggage allowance that was the problem it was that we have a one way ticket to France and no onward bookings. When I booked the flights on line it warned in a big red flashing thing that if you were booking to England you required an onward flight, but it didn’t say anything about Paris. That is one reason why we decided to go to Paris first. We explained we didn’t have an onward ticket as we were travelling by car. They said “rental car, show us your booking, that is sufficient”, we said, “no, private car”. They said “sorry, you cannot fly, Air Asia and Malaysian policy requires evidence of an onward ticket before we can check you in for your flight.” Great!!! What the f…. do we do now? We’ve got half an hour left before check-in for our flight closes, no onward ticket from Paris, and no proof that we ever intend moving onward!! We negotiated (well Di did actually, as I thought, “oh well KL isn’t so bad, we can stay here longer” and “F… ‘n H…” and “Do I go and buy a ticket from Paris to Chichi for a random date about a year from now, and if so will we have time to do that and still check-in for this flight because that queue is getting mighty long!!!” and thinking “even if I did get a ticket would that be enough because with our NZ passports we are only supposed to stay in the EU for 3months at a time” and then selfishly, “well actually, if the push comes to the shove, I’m OK Jack, I’ve got a UK passport in my hot little hand, well actually Di has a firm grip on it, but if it came to a physical battle I reckon I could get it off her…… especially if driven by desperation”. In the end, they let us check-in after printing an e-mail from Di’s relies in the Netherlands, saying it will be good to see us, and giving them my cousin’s contact details in Paris. They did say “any immigration issues you may have in Paris are of your own doing” basically if you are prepared to take the risk with French immigration, we won’t stop you. So here I sit, about 11 ½ hours from Paris, gathering all the karmic positivity’s I can, that we will meet a nice French customs officer (is that an oxymoron?) or that cousin Jackie can sweet talk them if necessary.
All will be revealed, because though I am writing this while in flight, I won’t be able to post it until we get either to Jackie and Nick’s or wherever else we may end up.
Friday night 8.4.11
Well we are in Milly-la-foret, we made it to France with no hassle. The flight was long, swollen feet but at least I didn’t get restless legs. We spent 13 ½ hours flying but arrived 8 ½ hours later (due to gaining time) so arrived at 5pm’ish local time. The flight was good again, plenty of food, could have done with more fluid but not prepared to pay all that money for drinks. Unfortunately because it was a daytime flight it was more difficult to sleep and so Hilary got pretty bored. She read books, and did some great drawing, we played a few word games, and board games and she also spent quite a lot of time talking with a young couple from Sydney who have a 15 month old child, Isabella. They weren’t sitting very close to us, but she decided she wanted to spend time with Isabella and obviously engaged with the adults because she gave us a lot of information about them she had gleaned.
Diana in mid-flight Hilary at Orly waiting to retrieve our bags
Having worried about how we could sweet talk our way past the customs/police/immigration people it was a non- event. We had our passports given a very cursory glance immediately on entering the airport terminal, and a bit later stamped by immigration. Nobody asked us about how long or why or where we were planning on going, in fact other than a bonjour apiece I don’t think there was any other exchange of words. When it came to the “I have…/have not anything to declare”, I’m not even sure there was anyone to declare anything to. We went out to the public area and there was Jackie with Elena, waiting patiently to give us a lift to their house. It was really warm here, late 20’s even though the evening was not far off. Spring is in full swing, blossom, tulips, wisteria …… and the gorgeous fields of yellow rape blooming in the countryside. We had a bit of a journey to the house, mostly because there were a couple of accidents and therefore traffic jams. The first thing we wanted was a cup of tea, Hilary who had been itching to play her recorder sat down and did just that.
The view from our bedroom at Jackie and Nick's
Milly-la-foret is a sweet little village, very old with some places built in 1400’s (market hall- 1479) and something (The Gate “Moustier de Peronne” ) I read, originally constructed in the 600s.
Moustier de Peronne
The Halle
We have had a whole day here now, it is just after 10pm, and the locals have gone to bed. I’m about to have a cup of tea, and then will head off as well. Today was a chill out day. Hilary and Jackie took Josie to school this morning, it was her last day before a two week Easter ish holiday break.
We all took Elena down to the crèche which is only a five to ten minute amble through the cobbled streets. We walked past the “washing area” which was originally (……) where people came to do their washing and on the other side of the bridge is the pond where the local animals (stock and pets) came to drink. This water area is the result of a river diversion created to allow water to be made more available for the gardens of the chateau. Today it is a pleasant duck pond where people fish, ducks swim merrily, and water rats eat left over duck bread and slip under the bridge to feed their young.
Frenchman fishing in front of chateau
Frenchman fishing in front of chateau
The washing area
Water rat
After we had dropped Elena off we stopped off for me to have a haircut at Jackie’s hairdresser . Poor Bridgette was overwhelmed by what confronted her. She didn’t say o la la, but I could tell she wanted to. We conversed in pigeon English and French, sometimes resorting to writing things down but managing to communicate a lot. I’m amazed by how much French I actually have hidden within me. If you asked me how much I could communicate but I would have said, hello, goodbye, please and thank you were my limits. However I managed to tell her that mum had died, dad was still going strong at nearly 90, still with a good head of hair, now straighter than when he was younger. Hat all my brothers and sisters had heaps of hair. That we had left NZ six days earlier, spent 5 days in Malaysia and arrived in France the night before. She offered me a coffee, explained there was no milk, and made it to my liking, letting me know she drank her coffee the same way I did. We chatted quite a bit, not as much as my usual hairdresser Renee, but that is a blessing, as she can talk the leg off a donkey!!
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| Before |
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| During |
When the others came back, Hilary had a trim too.
Under the wisteriaWe stopped at a boulangerie and made some purchases and then we walked back to the house, had a drink and a scoff then Di did some chores, vacuuming and washing, Hilary and Jackie baked a cake for Josie’s carnival, Elena had a sleep and I did some of this.
Escargot au chocolat; framboise doughnut; citron
Tarlette and pain au chocolate. All delicious. Once the cake was cooked we went down to the local school, not Josie’s but the other one where there was to be a carnival (parade of kids) (both schools combined) and shared cake and drinks. Hilary sat with her second cousin and joined in the watching and eating. She is speaking to us in Maori a lot, I guess she doesn’t know French, but knows English won’t always work here either.
Josie, "the mango"
After school was finished (8.30-4.30) Hilary and Jackie went to pick Josie up while Di and I took Elena into town to buy some wine. We actually met the others walking back from school, so handed over Elena and went and got camembert (1.80 euro), cruskits and a bottle of Sauvignon ( 2.35 euro), and one of cidre. The camembert is delicious, creamy and mild, as are the cruskits and cidre. The cidre is a lot yeastier than ours, same strength, but different – more like an apple beer. I haven’t tried the Sauvignon, but it can’t be bad surely? Especially at that price.
It’s now 5.30am Saturday. Nick has gone to work, and I’ve been at this for a couple of hours. It’s still pitch black outside, and quite a chill in the air coming in our window. I think I’ll snuggle down for a while and then get a cup of tea.
Sunday morning 5am local time.
Up having a cup of tea, all is quiet except for the occasional dog noises from Barbara, but that is allowed because she is after all a black Labrador, who is partially awake, but who would rather be asleep.
Had a quiet village day yesterday. Jackie, Josie, Elena, Barbara, Di, Hilary and I went for a walk through the forest to the next village. The forest isn’t like our forest, it of course is native but to us looks like a wild park full of exotic trees, like oaks, with periwinkles, ranunculas (buttercup type, bluebells, and the occasional blossom tree, all deciduous, so lots of light available. We stpped to see the sculpture Le Cyclops, which was created in the 1960’s by a team of artists. It is 22.5 metres high and quite grotesque really. It isn’t open at the moment, May to November I think the sign said, and if you want to go in through the barred fence you need a guide, at specific times only. Consequently we only got a glimpse really, through the bars, and didn’t see it working. It is full of mechanisms which make it turn, and spill water etc.
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| Butterfly on dandelion |
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| Di and Elena in the forest |
Le Cyclops
At the next village, I can’t remember its name, we had a coffee, sitting outside the little café.
I’m not sure of coffee prices but we got 3 coffees and two iced teas for €9.50, so certainly cheaper than in NZ and Barbara was allowed inside, something Kipper would like to know about I’m sure.
Blue bells under foot Balls of mistletoe, inspector
The Cafe Walking through the village
Some of the pretty houses
Jackie, Josie and Elena Josie and Hilary conversing over iced tea
Café proprietor having a break
After our coffee we headed back the way we had come, stopping on the way to read about, view and buy from the watercress farm. Deliciously spicy and crunchy, fresh from the ponds. We had that with lettuce, cucumber, tomato, radishes, various cheeses and breads for lunch when we got back to the house. Nick joined us, he had been at work again since 5am.
After lunch we pottered about pulling weeds from the garden and digging dandelions from the lawn while the bigger kids bounced on the trampoline and chattered vociferously.
About 3 Jackie took us to a car sales yard a few villages away where we looked at a campervan and some cars. The campervan, an older style one was €16000 and some Espace cars not dissimilar interior from the Odyssey, was about €4000. Jackie spoke to the salesman for us, and got some of the finer details. We will return with Mark to do some checking out for us in the next few days, he is an Englishman who lives over here now, is currently doing the building renovations to Jackie and Nick’s house, and apparently has many practical talents including mechanics, and also has a campervan himself so he knows a lot and offered to help us. It’s a lot of money, $32000 but I did a quick conservative estimate of accommodation for 12 months at €/£50 per night and that was 18250 so unless we settled somewhere for a long time (which we can’t legally do with NZ passports) it would save us a lot in the long run. The bloke did say he would buy the vehicle back from us in 12 months’ time, so I guess if we work out the finer details and Mark is able to haggle on our behalf, that is probably the best way to go.
Fields of rape, on the way to see the cars
We returned home and I made dinner, roasted vegetable salad and salmon fried with butter dressed with an apple cider vinegar, oil and mustard dressing, accompanied by bread and butter and for me a local Sauvignon. Not bad I must say. The vegetables in Nick and Jackie’s fridge were impressive, all those I chose were organic, potatoes (slightly yellowish), the biggest parsnip I’ve seen in my life, a sweet potato (orange kumara…. Again enough to feed a family of 5 for a week), carrots, onions, white asparagus (it grows beneath the ground)(slightly sweeter than the green, and less fibrous), resting on a green salad of lettuce, cress, cucumber and grated carrot, with butter-fried salmon fillets atop. Wasn’t bad if I say so myself. Hilary stuffed herself with potatoes, bread, cucumber, carrot and peanut butter. She is struggling a bit at the moment, tired and culture shocked I expect.
After dinner I took Barbara for an amble around the village, Hilary and Diana had early nights.
I found myself falling asleep sitting on the couch trying to do some computer work (photo sorting mainly) I would wake up with my finger on the mouse pad and some random window open, so I decided it would be safer to go to bed than risk wiping something out in my soporific state.
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| Hilary and Elena |
