Roads

“The Alfa does 136 mph, that’s well over 200 kph” I read from Wikipedia. “You better wear your glasses when you’re driving it then” said Liz. Sometimes I just slip them on to overtake things.

Perhaps because of its oil reserves Malaysia is a petrol-headed kind of country. The British built railways, as they did the world over, but since independence the money has gone into the road network with luxury coach liners plying their trade up and down the expressways, little motorbikes whizzing everywhere and more and more cars clogging the tarmac arteries as the country and its people become wealthier. Pedestrians are an endangered species.

We are now settled in a large rented house in Kuala Kangsar but it has been a fraught week to get here. Because we were delayed (see below) we missed a meeting with the landlady and had to spend five days in a tiny hotel room. But of course before leaving Kuala Lumpur I had to collect the car.

After a nightmare of Kafkaesque bureaucracy, where I even had to give a fingerprint, I finally got in the Alfa and set off to drive the 30 odd km. back to the hotel. But I didn't set off; I couldn't find reverse with the Selespeed gearbox (which is similar to that in Sebastian Vettle's work car as both Alfa Romeo and Ferrari are now part of Fiat). I had to ask the man at the garage for help and then drove to the petrol station. But I couldn't get the pump to work; I think it was designed to take credit cards. Finally filled with fuel I turned the key but nothing happened; I panicked but then tried with my foot on the brake and the car started, and I got as far as the first set of lights. They turned green and the engine revved but the car didn't move. I struggled with the gear lever and finally pulled away and bowled along what appeared to be a motorway at a good speed until I reached the first set of toll booths.

From our hotel in KL

Fortunately I found reverse this time as I realised that I was at a gate that didn't take cash, and I manoeuvred around the car behind, after it had reversed back. I had studied the map carefully and before too long I saw the sail shaped building where Liz’s new employers have their offices on the 52^nd floor. I was in heavy traffic now but could see the hotel where we were staying, and then saw it disappear as the road pulled me away in the wrong direction. All the roads seemed to be like motorways but I eventually got back to the hotel and the path that I had walked along earlier in the day, but there was a solid wall between me and it; again I was swept away and wanted to scream with frustration as I saw the road on the other carriageway, which I would have to come back along, gridlocked with traffic. 

Then I saw a narrow little road that I thought could get me into the hotel complex. I was greeted with lots of piping hoots but at least I could stop here away from the flow of cars. I wound down the window and was informed that the little road was actually a lane for motorcycles. I engaged reverse again. It was getting dark, rain was starting and I desperately wanted an ordinary street and not a blessed motorway to drive along. At last I found one, and ended up in a building site. I fought my way back to the main road and studiously avoided the lanes with green road signs, which were the actual motorways and which could take me several miles in the wrong direction. Finally I pulled in to the car park under the hotel, went up to our room, and poured a large duty free whisky.

The next day we left for Kuala kangsar. Half way there the car broke down and we were stranded for 24 hours. I don’t want to talk about it.