Welcome to Malaysia, truly Asia.

Firstly, for those of you who are just stumbling, Googling or digging your way through this blog for the first time, welcome. It's great to know people are still trying to find their way here.

Secondly, I'd like to apologize for not having posted in a while and leaving you stranded with me in Malaysia (although it's not a bad place to be stranded.)

In celebration of my uncle's wedding next month, I thought why not check out if they have any decent English magazine publications for me to gain some experience? Turns out they do! Harper's Bazaar, Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire, the list goes on..

So been given the opportunity (and scheduled interview date) little ambitious me trekked half way across the world to gain some 'work experience' that I probably would have dreamed of at this stage in its European counterparts. That's what us graduates (or soon-to-be) are having to do people! 


Managing to survive the 15 hour flight from London (!!!) with one private full body scan/search- a hopeful backpacker on her way to Bali, an overly-talkative passenger, a little turbulence, and one unhappy toddler, I arrived at KL International Airport.

The line at the immigration was long and windy. More so, since I had to queue up twice - typical of me to not notice the 'Fill out custom's declaration form' to then be asked by the lady at the immigration desk :
"Where is Cyprus?"

"Near Greece. In Europe?"

"Never heard of it."

....

Where is my luggage? The question every traveller does Not want to ever ask.

Luckily, the airport staff were friendly and helpful to point me in the right direction to then FINALLY exit and meet with my Uncle whom I haven't seen since I was a wee 14 year old!

Boy, Asians DO NOT age. More of that later on.

An awkward hug and relatively quiet and rainy (Yes, coming from London RAINY) drive back to the city, he took me to have lunch. Stepping out of the car, with umbrella in tow of course, I was greeted with ridiculous humidity and a pungent smell. Yes, KL more or less smells like a burp. I got over that quickly enough to enjoy my first meal at one of the best Fish head noodle restaurants in town. Lucky for me, I've never been a picky eater, so I chowed that like a pro. Not bad, not bad at all.

Coming back to my aunt's flat or should I say penthouse compared to the pigeon-hole of my London apartment, I was confronted with this view:

And I thought to myself , I could really, really get used to it here.

But for now?

NAP TIME.

xx