update#3

My flight to Kota Kinabalu doesn't leave until 4pm (about 4 hours from now, so I am hanging out in the hostel).

I just came back from the stairmaster that is the climb to the Batu Caves. At the top there was a South Asian family with a son throwing a tantrum who couldn't have been more than four years old. I thought he was upset at his parents for making him walk the 2oo+ step steep staircase to the caves (like I probably would have done). It turns out, he was just upset because his father wouldn't let him hold the family camcorder. My flight to Kota Kinabalu doesn't leave until 4pm (about 4.5 hours) from now, so I am hanging out in the hostel.

Random observations so far regarding KL/Melaka/Malaysia/etc. in general:
Australians must not understand what "nice and delightful weather" is. The Australian captain of my Cathay Pacific 777 from HKG to KUL described the weather in KL in those terms--mentioning the temperature. He completely forgot to mention just how strong and bad the humidity is. When I stepped out of the terminal for the first time, it felt like I just stepped into a sauna fully clothed.

It is easy to forget that Malaysia is a muslim majority country--albeit with a sizable non-Muslim majority (60/40). Compared to Cairo, the islamic presence isn't all that strong. The number of mosques downtown appear to equal the number of churches. I have yet to hear the ''call to prayer"--something that I heard at least five times a day in Cairo. The only two things that serve as constant reminders of the muslim majority are the prevalence of women wearing headscarves (and usually pairing them with designer jeans) while their boyfriend/spouse wore attire similar to what I would wear back home. The other is the price of alcohol/beer (equal to New York bars). It can easily be double the price of the food that you eat. It was a bizarre experience to pay the considerable "sin tax" for a bottle of beer while the sexually graphic lyrics of an American rap song blared overhead. The 24 hour Carrefour pharmacy a block from my hostel stocks condoms right in front of the register, right next to the candy bars. It makes pharmacies in the U.S. look borderline puritanical in comparison. Some stuff you just can't make up.

Drivers here are actually respectful of pedestrians, and don't try to run you over. Compare this to Cairo, where every time you cross the street you are taking your life into your own hands.

I have seen exactly one Starbucks in this town. 711 is everywhere, though. There are probably a greater number of 711's in a five block radius of my hostel as there are in a five mile radius from Hollow Way.

Touts here are actually not that bad. Other than the "teksi" drivers asking if I want a ride (which they do to everybody), I have only been solicited in two areas--the bus station and on a street with sidewalk cafes known for good and cheap food. In both cases, I could have been the most famous celebrity in Malaysia and I would have been given the same treatment--they were soliciting everybody. So, even though my fair skin and light hair sticks out like a sore thumb, my presence has generally been ignored--even when I have been the only non-native on a bus or subway car. It's actually kind of nice not to be seen as a walking meal ticket--though this is likely to change as I travel to other parts.

The best example of this was when the cab driver kicked me out six blocks from my hostel claiming he had no idea where it was and that I should go find it myself. There I was, fresh off the plane, wearing jeans and lugging a backpack in the midday heat and humidity, looking clearly disoriented, and not a single person seemed to take note of my presence.

Melaka was a bit of a bust--which is to say it did not meet expectations--which is, in part, my fault. As a student of history and having read a considerable number of books on Dutch/English colonial history and the like, I was expecting something a little more grand. In reality, the historical part only takes up a small hill in town, and the Malacca Strait was largely empty of any sort of container/oil tanker traffic. Although, the preservation of old grave stones dating back to the 1600s was definitely cool to see, even though the dutch translations could use a reprint, having largely faded away. With the exception of its old historical part, the town has largely been transformed into a weekend beach retreat for residents of Kuala Lumpur and Singapore. Their bus station, though, resembled more of a mini-mall and would not be out of place in an American truck stop. Compare that to KL's bus station, which accomplishes the rare feat of making the New York Port Authority bus terminal look like Grand Central in comparison.

I am ashamed to admit that my first meal in Malaysia was in burger king--it was late, I had spent the last 26 hours travelling, and I had hoofed it for a considerable distance--shocking myself, as I thought I would be drained.

My feet lasted barely a half a day in Tevas before they started to develop blisters. I have now been wearing tennis shoes exclusively.

Pasty white kid with very little camping experience who hates bugs goes to Borneo. Sounds like a setup to a joke. Hilarity will definitely ensue.