Day 320: Bratislava has a city tax?!

Another day, another train. This time to Bratislava. In all of my travels around Europe, I’ve always skipped Bratislava for reasons I can’t really name. Perhaps it was horror stories of gypsies on trains. Perhaps it was that after living in Prague, I simply didn’t feel the need to visit. Maybe it’s because there really isn’t a whole lot there. Or, it could be the €1.65 per person, per night Bratislava city tax on its visitors. Yep. You have to pay to play up in this medieval town. I wasn’t pleased, but hoped the our visit would be worth it. We walked around town, had dinner. I enjoyed photographing some Communist bloc style buildings and then it quickly turned into one of those nights where I needed to crash early.

I was elated when we returned to our hostel room and two other girls in our room were already in bed as well. I was NOT elated when I woke up to other guests partying on the patio just below and outside of our room around four in the morning. I usually enjoy hostels, they’re a great way to meet people, especially when traveling as a couple, and sometimes they can be nicer than a hotel room elsewhere. But I had a big “I’m too old for this sh*t” moment as I lay in my bottom bunk bed willing the young drunk backpackers outside our window to go. to. bed.

Day 2: Kuala Lumpur in a day

Anwar, our couchsurfing host dropped us off near the train station on his way to work. In Korea, even during rush hour, one would still be able to squeeze onto a subway car. In Malaysia, one waits as four or five trains pass through until there is enough room to squeeze on. Granted, from my observations, it seemed as though Malaysians mind personal space a little more than Koreans. Passengers were still able to breathe on the train and few pushed others further into the train so they could fit as well. Not in a rush (not going to work) I enjoyed people watching and quickly became obsessed with all of the beautiful scarves. (I have to admit, the modesty was a bit refreshing after 5 years of short skirts in Seoul!)

I was also pleased to see the “coach for ladies only.” My travel partner was less than impressed when one pulled up in front of us and had to run down the platform to board a car for ladies AND men.

Our first destination was the Batu Caves just outside of Kuala Lumpur. Not entirely sure what to expect, other than a lot of monkeys, we were pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t overrun with tourists and vendors vying for attention and wallets. The closer we got to the entrance, we started hearing loud ‘thwacks’ followed by cheers. A group of Chinese tourists were taking turns hurling coconuts into a stone basin. A nearby flower vendor told us it was for prayer. We assumed when the coconut split, the prayer was answered. This coconut splitting action took place under the gaze of the towering Hindu diety, Murugan. At 140 feet tall, it’s the tallest statue of Murugan in the world.

The trek to the top where the caves were wasn’t the easiest, but the monkeys along the way shaking light poles and dropping coconuts on tourists made it an entertaining climb. If you’ve been to Bali, you might be familiar with the infamous monkey forest there. Having a not so pleasant experience when I visited a few years ago, I’m a little wary around monkeys, especially those overly familiar with tourists. These monkeys might have been familiar with tourists, but they went about their business, and were not nearly as aggressive as those in Bali.

At the top, there are a few cave temples. In the far back cave, a Hindu priest (I’m assuming) prayed over passersby, marking colored ash on foreheads and tying strings around wrists for luck. It seemed a bit like a “pay to pray” tourist attraction to me, when I asked some other tourists, they said you just had to give a donation. Which is fair. However, my Hindu prayer felt a little tainted when the Hindu priest so obviously motioned to the donation tray. Quite frankly, it made me want to hang onto my donation after that…

After the Batu Caves, we made our way back into the center of Kuala Lumpur to see Little India. Again, I was fascinated by the amount of headscarves, and the many shops selling them. Samosas were sold on the street for cheap. Men stood at flower carts making the most beautiful ropes of flowers and just as advertised, motorbikes zipped in and out and around other cars, pedestrians, and onto sidewalks for deliveries.

Not far from the Botanical Garden area, we settled on the Butterfly Garden. I was a little excited, I thought I would walk in and be surrounded by butterflies, covered even if I stood still enough. Unfortunately, this was not the case. There were a few butterflies, yes, but not enough to be labeled “Butterfly Garden” and it was pricey! Ok, maybe if there were more butterflies, I wouldn’t think so, but there weren’t. If you really love botanical gardens, then have a look, if you’re into butterflies, maybe it’s best not to get your hopes up for this attraction.

Ready for a respite, Andrew and I headed to Petronas Towers in search of a coffee shop and some free wi-fi. (Yo CoffeeBean, why do you have free wifi in KL, but not in Seoul? Please, take note.) Our timing was impecable, we went in while it was still bright and came out right around dusk so we got to see Petronas in both settings. Petronas by day is wow. But, Petronas by night is WOW! and I highly recommend it. Especially at dusk. We didn’t go to the top because it was smoggy and a little bit out of our budget. We decided we’ll instead splurge on the Burj Khalifa instead.

We met back up with Anwar for a satay dinner. Which was yum. I couldn’t decide if I liked the chicken or beef more, both, and the noodles Anwar insisted we try were delicious. After an hour or so of chatting about dating and marriage in Malaysia vs. Korea vs. America, he drove us to the train station to catch a ride back to the airport.

Our flight to Hanoi was at 6AM. Needing to be at the airport by 4AM, we decided to just camp out at the airport instead of waking up around 3AM in the city to pay $40.00 for a taxi to the airport. When we made this plan, we didn’t count on the airport closing between 1AM and 3AM, forcing us out on the sidewalk outside. We made friends with a Belgian physicist and chatted with him for a couple hours until we were allowed back in the airport where we grabbed a couple hours of sleep before our flight took off.

Lesson #1 learned from traveling around the world: Just because it all fits in your 52 liter backpack, doesn’t mean you need to take it. I’m already tired of the ordeal that is me getting in and out of my bag…