Urban chaos in Kuala Lumpur

Kuala Lumpur slaps me in the face with curry fumes, honks in five languages and tries to drown me in sweat before breakfast. The heat is unbearable, the traffic unforgiving and the pace is relentless.

The Petronas Towers are hard to miss. Those twin steel syringes jab upward like Malaysia’s middle finger to the colonial past. But the real city happens on the streets. A glorious riot of smells, colors, noise and diesel. One doesn’t simply stroll in Kuala Lumpur. You dodge, jump, duck and occasionally sprint across roads where traffic laws are more suggestion than rule. Monorails and motorbikes buzz like angry insects, and not even the cracked pavement is safe. It’s a city that doesn’t believe in silence or patience.

Ready, steady, go!

I always try to sample the local food in my travels, and this time I’ve really been looking forward to it. The capital of Malaysia is a chaotically wonderful mix of Malay, Indian and Chinese which makes for some interesting dishes.

Little India is quickly ignored, as the small corner restaurants display a wrong kind of chaos where it’s hard to tell the difference between road and serving table, or trying to guess who was the staff among the sea of people.

Urban blinders.

A Bahrain resident had told me earlier about restaurants on Jalan Ceylon, but they turned out to be a disappointing mix of expat joints with a touch of “foot massage”. No thank you.

Turns out that my original goal was the best option after all. The food street of Jalan Alor is the city’s pulse after dark. Plastic chairs and greasy smoke litter the road, where I dodge a few motorcycles and quickly grab a table.

Food heaven at Jalan Alor. Just stay away from the Durian.

Motorcycles and buskers pass by on elbow’s length while I try to dissect a chicken. At least I hope it’s chicken. The beer is as cheap as the chili is unforgiving.

I am surrounded by a thousand different sounds and smells I cannot even begin to understand. A lone vendor sells Durian so pungent it should be registered as a biochemical weapon.

Food heaven at Jalan Alor.

By dawn, the streets are washed clean, like none of it ever happened. Kuala Lumpur resets every morning. I, however, may not.