Thursday 4th April 2019
The ship docked late, somebody else’s fault as usual! Eventually we got out into the tropical heat and humidity and sat on a coach bathed in sweat, the cool of the air conditioning a blessing to be in.
An hour and a half’s journey each way to Kuala Lumpur and two hours looking at the buildings was preferable to being stuck on the ship all day long. The tour guide was very good and a mine of information about the place and its people.
Our first call in Kuala Lumpur itself was the kings Palace.
This was guarded by men on foot and mounted on a horse; they needed the cover as the unrelenting sun was blistering hot, I took this complete with a tourist.
It was a short journey to our next stop at the peace garden. A beautiful area with monuments to the brave fallen of the wars. Acknowledging the parts played by the men from the different countries.
Next we were taken into the old centre of the city to the large grassed area surrounded by old colonial buildings backed by new taller buildings.
Finally on our way home we saw the Twin Petronas Towers, very impressive. I managed to get this photo, just seconds before it started to rain, I say rain, but it was really an enormous bucket of water that someone just poured over the city, I think all the water droplets had been joined up.
If you recall in my last diary I was a happy chappy, not so this evening, but this sorry tale started a long time ago and I don’t want any smirking from you when you get to the end.
As you know, when you get a cruise you are allocated an early or late sitting for dinner, and Florie had asked for a table for two on early sitting. When we came aboard we ended up on early sitting on a table for four, the bloke has a special Gluten Free menu, but seemed an amenable bloke at first, his wife is a clothes horse and a control freak woman, sits uptight didn’t moan, thin as a rake, and when she speaks to you her eyes flutter and she ends up closing her eyes while she speaks, but they seem harmless enough.
For her meal she only had a salad main course and maybe a dessert, he orders five courses, so three of us sit killing thirty five minutes every time we ate their while he chomps his way through three courses. Then the mains arrive, usually wrong, but that’s another story.
A month later we have eaten with them a few times and we are still waiting thirty five minutes for our main course, I asked him about having that each time and he told me he has to eat this as he is trying to put weight on!
We stick this for three bloody months, I got fed up and didn’t want to go any more but Florie didn’t want to upset them.
A few days ago I finally got fed up and couldn’t put up with it any longer, the head waiter asked what was wrong, he said he’ll get us a table for two in another part of the restaurant. Yesterday we got a note to say we are now on Table 157, so we went to dinner and were on our own and the service was quick, great! I was happy.
Tonight we went down, and there were two strangers at our table, in our chairs! He a big fat Aussie called Bruce and she is a skinny vegan called Sheila, an anorexic looking woman eating special bread and a dish of water. He looks like one of those large over stuffed black plastic bags with a tie round the middle and an opening to shovel it in at one end. The table is cramped, with people pushing past, Bruce orders five courses and she orders three and we order our mains, the waiter is trying to push past the back of my chair to serve other people, but there is no room, we wait forty five minutes for our main course and the whole sorry experience takes an hour and forty five minutes with the jolly fat Aussie going on and on. We walked out feeling, ‘Out of the frying pan into the fire!’
Not a happy Nib
P. S. The ship left the port late again.