From the Hyatt to Allson

15 December, the day of departure for India, was that day of our first wedding, the 'woodlands wedding' as we called it, because it took place in Morialta Park. We spent that night in the Hyatt (thanks to Maria and Savvas) - there are photographs of Mark 'cringing' by the window and talking of his fear of heights - two years later, I've spent the night in a different hotel - also many stories up, but overlooking the suburbs of Kuala Lumpur rather than Adelaide.

The lack of electric light in the room (I hadn't placed the entrance key correctly!) didn't hide the peeling ceiling and mould-covered shower recess, but the bed was very comfortable with clean sheets and I slept really soundly. All the more soundly because after thinking that I had left my money belt with the Indian rupees in Adelaide, I found that I had simply packed it with wash stuff.

On the plane from Adelaide to KL, I started talking to the woman next to me - and discovered that she had also lived and worked in Whyalla, had taught a very good friend of mine, and had lost her husband just over four years ago. We spent most of the flight sharing our stories and talking about her husband, Trevor, and Mark. Agreed that it's like crossing a border into a new and strange country - life will never be the same again, forever the landscape has changed.

The stop-over in KL (free from the airline) included breakfast - a buffet of spicy noodles, fried rice, boiled eggs, chicken sausages, beef bacon and sliced fresh guava. So many items seemed very brightly coloured - even the marmalade for the 'toast' (warmed bread) was an unnatural shade of yellow, almost flourescent. I stuck to the fruit and noodles, washed down with plenty of coffee.

Before lunch, a walk in the area - a humid, muggy heat slowed the pace. It seems like a satellite city of hotels and abandoned boulevardes of colonnaded buildings three of four stories high that would appear to be unoccupied were it not for the washing strung from column to column on almost every building. There was an eery silence - apart from loud bird call from areas of thick tropical vegetation. Grass was growing between the cobbled stones and the buildings lookes though they had been beautifully painted at one stage (shades of yellow, soft peach and cream) but since fallen into disrepair and been taken over by squatters. Every wall was streaked with damp stains and there were piles of rubbish near many of the entrances. Quite strange. On one of the street corners was a tiny red-tiled shrine with a garshly painted buuddha inside, a McDonalds drink in front of him and a few incense sticks burning. There are no footpaths and descent to street level is down thick concrete steps over open drains that border the shop frontages.

At the large shopping mall opposite the hotel, I changed $5 and the money I managed to buy a replacement set of sunglasses (brand M Jackson - hmm, the equivalent of $2), a bottle of water, a cup of coffee, some medicated wipes - and still had change!

Back to the hotel for lunch - another self-serve buffet (so I tasted everything) - squid curry, chicken curry, vegetarian curries, more fried noodles and fried rice. Many small dishes of accompaniments - mostly based on seafood and very strong spices - and followed by garshly coloured cakes (which I didn't taste!) and more fresh fruit. Ready for a nap, I discovered the secret to electricity in the room (thanks to one of the many staff members who hover around ready to fulfil every need) and watched a little of Channel 7 - self-described as the 'Feel Good' channel. It was actually quite interesting, segueing from a segment on skin-whitening creams to an interview with two gentlement from the Islamic Sciences conferences currently taking place in Malaysia.

Have started reading Bill's recommendation - 'The Age of Kali'. The travel agent had suggested that I fly into Patna and drive to Bodh Gaya where the Buddha sat under the Bodhi tree. Rather glad that I decded against the idea when I read this passage: 'No one has ever called Patna a beautiful city, but revisiting it , I found i had forgotten how bad things were. As you drive in through the outskirts, the treeless pavements begin to fill with occasinal sackcloth shacks. The shacks expand into slums. The slums are surrounded by garbage hjeaps. Around the garbage heaps, goats, pigs, dogs and children compete for scraps of food. The further you go, the worse it becomes. Open drains line the roads. Besides them, lie emaciated migrants from famine - struck villages. Sewer rats the size of cats scamper among the rickshaws...' then he writes of 'an initiative to resuscitate the moribund Bihar tourist industry - a paramilitary Tourist Protection Force was to be set up - providing a heavily armed escort for any Japanese tourists wishing to brave a visit to the site of Buddha's enlightenment...'

Go to go - people waiting for this internet site!!!! Love to all

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