So it's tourism day today, Batu Caves are calling and I've been told it's a Hindu festival, so either the best or the worst day ever to go depending on your POV. I jump on the train to the caves and in an hour or so we've arrived, nice and easy route to the caves and for sure, it's full of people, I mean you think it's full at Tesco local on a Sunday Christmas Eve just before closing, but that's nothing compared to this. It is like a festival, in fact it's fair to say, it is a festival, there are stalls, a stage, food stands, people are getting their head's shaved and painted yellow - as you do - and a general sense of merriment is in the humid air that wafts with the smell of insence and sweat. I found the caves and the massive gold statue that, let's face it was what I was there for, 'Gold Statue Selfie'. Now I'm one for culture and history and all that shit, but I'm not religious, I don't care, no one's shaving my head today, I'm not strapping on a huge metal cage and climbing up the stairs and they were. I'm there for a cheap shot that I can put on Facebook or maybe Tinder, maybe someone will think I'm interesting since I've seen a gold statue bigger than the gold statues that they've seen. I mean it isn't very philosophical my travelling, I go to see fun stuff we didn't have in Manchester, take pictures, eat nice food, buy jewellery that I can show off once I'm back, wherever back is at that particular point ('Oh yes I bought this one at The Batu Caves in Malaysia, do you know it? Oh it's amazing! You really must go sometime. This one? Oh Paris. Darling isn't it?'), really I'm just a tremendous self aggrandising whore with a British Passport and a visa. But you know, it passes the time and keeps me off the streets. I purchase a small statuu of Ganeche that I later discover is know as the remover of obstacles, which make me L. OL. I get a Wechat message from the woman that paid for the holiday, telling me I owe her 300USD and we should meet on Monday so I can pay her, I say Yes figuring that the truth would antagonise her and that this is a problem for future Phil. I head back to Chinatown to find a bar, for a beer, some food and charge my phone, I find Reggae Bar XL a backpackers place, where I meet a man who over the course of 5 hours and 10 beers tells me I've been sleeping all wrong and that he can fix that. Later he orders me a GrabCar and makes sure I don't get ripped off. Nice man. |