Yesterday afternoon was when my flight to Bali was scheduled to leave. Instead of being on it, I was lying in bed, pondering about whether I should just hang on or go see a doctor at some point in the near future. By that time I had been down with rather bad diarrhoea for a day and a half, barely able to walk and only crouching out of bed to visit the loo.
Things slowly got better later that day and a diet of chicken soup and sugary Coke brought some life back into my pale body.
Back in Myanmar I had thought about changing my travel plans and skipping the stay in KL in favour of a longer stay in Hsipaw. It would have cost a lot of money though and in hindsight, despite “shit happening” here in KL, I’m glad I did come around.
After the totally and utterly clogged streets of Yangon (1.5h for 12km), it is a delight to use rail-bound public transport. But in the end that is something cities like BKK can offer as well. What makes KL really special in my book is the food (the type that doesn’t make you sick).
They have a mixed population of Malays, Chinese and Indians here and they all cater for their people with (from what I can tell) authentic and good food. Within a block’s reach I can slurp Malay Laksa, devour a Chinese dumpling or dive into South Indian curries.
Yes, that’s served on a banana leaf and no, that doesn’t come with cutlery.
Feeling much better today. Had four meals already and so far all of them stayed in. Fingers crossed I’ll make that flight to Bali tomorrow morning.