Kuching means ‘cat’ in Malay, and you don’t have to look very far to find evidence of it’s association. Stone statues of cat families and sculptures of proud bronze felines overlook many of the city’s roundabouts, and adorn it’s manhole covers.
“Enjoy it, man”, T said as I walked past, a backpacker from Liverpool who was travelling with his New Zealander girlfriend, S. “Will do”, I replied, as I set off into the jungle. I had met them days earlier in Kuching, capital city of Sarawak, on the West Coast of Borneo.
The door swings open and Mark stands in the doorway of the humid jungle bar, khaki clad, dabbing beads of sweat off his neck with a handkerchief. The jungle mist rolls past his feet, and the sound of insects invades the room, drowning out the beat of the fan.
I woke up yesterday in Melaka, 2-3 hours south of KL. ‘Historic Melaka’ is a mix of the various colonial rules that have fought for control over the town over hundreds of years. The end result was a charming, colourful town, dotted with Portugese forts, Dutch churches with British renovations, Chinese temples and Indian cuisine.
It’s true that you meet a lot of new people when travelling. Especially when staying in backpacker’s guesthouses. I checked into my hostel last night and within a few hours had gone in thirds with a Dutchman and a German in a bottle of vodka, and after finishing it with the help of a few … More Feeling at home in a backpacker hostel