Text 10856, 105 rader
Skriven 2014-03-14 22:31:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: malaysia 322
====================
CX 791 HKG KUL 2145 0135 333 65EF

We had seats in the center section in row 65, which is about
as far back as I've ever sat on any aircraft. Surprisingly,
the seats were comfortable, the staff cheerful if not very
attentive, and the food and drink quite all right.

The meal, advertised as chicken with rice, was tasty and
tender, the meat one good-size thigh in a brownish Chinese-
style sauce, the rice slightly crunchy but quite all right
on the whole. A fruit cup, okay, and some kind of gooey
dessert that I didn't eat.

We came in a little early but missed the last shuttle to
the hotel, which meant that we spent ten bucks extra on a
taxi, which took 15 minutes on its rather circuitous route.

The Concorde Inn Airport is perfectly fine, though it smells
rather, er, tropical, being tropical. It's a set of low
buildings, well kept but not fancy, with a somewhat more
festive-looking reception/breakfast/convention area in the
middle.

The room was comfy; the air conditioning, which had been
turned off for economy's sake, roared into action with the
first touch of the button, and all was well in short order.
You have to turn the water heater on 10 minutes before your
shower, but once we'd figured that out, the bathroom was
fine as well.

A good night's sleep followed by a decent breakfast. I had
some kind of soy sauce noodles, which were okay though had
suffered a little from their stay on the buffet; Lilli
ordered an omelet with cheese from the egg station; what
she got was two poached. Okay, there was something lost in
translation here. I was excited to see a chafing dish that
said roti canai; unfortunately, inside was a scraping or
two of some unidentifiable substance.

Kiwi and mango juices, both good.

In the corner were desserts - I tried pandan cake and
chocolate cake, both with that odd spongy quality so well
appreciated in this part of the world.

After a wander around the unspectacular grounds (the pool
is kind of nice, but Lilli hadn't brought her suit), we took
the hotel shuttle back to the hotel, where we spent some
time looking for the bus station before eventually getting
tickets and being among the last to board a departing
chariot. It takes an hour, mostly on some fairly nice
superhighways, but the end leg on city streets that seem too
narrow for a car, let alone a full-size bus. It makes one
appreciate the skill of the drivers.

Le Meridien is on the other side of the Sentral train
station from the bus stop. Some mapping programs that shall
remain unnamed show it on the same side. Not a big problem -
there are big signs, if you know where to look, for Hilton
Le Meridien.

The two hotels are side by side, mirror images of each
other. You enter from the parking lot, take the elevator,
and you have two choices: left, Hilton, right, Meridien.
Both are owned by the same outfit and maintain, I am told,
the same high standard of hospitality.

We were invited to check in at the club lounge, where we
were offered our choice of refreshment. I asked for a 
Tiger beer, but Lilli ordered a glass of red wine, which
caused some consternation, because who drinks wine before
dinnertime, and it was locked up, but someone fetched the
key; it turned out to be a not too good Cabernet-Merlot
from Bodega Somebody in Argentina or Chile - not memorable.

We decided to walk to Chinatown and found from hair-raising
experience that this part of town is not particularly
walkable - more than once we found ourselves crossing many
lanes of speeding traffic, none of whom were inclined to
give quarter to an elderly bewildered couple. This didn't
really faze me but did Lilli. We were past the point of no
return when it started to rain. Crapola, there wasn't any
train station nearby, so we did the best we could, making a
beeline to Jalan Petaling, the main shopping street, which
turns out to be covered in slightly leaky Plexiglas. This
got boring in short order, so we stopped for (expensive)
beers at the Swiss Hotel (as distinguished from a Swissotel,
of which there isn't one) and waited for the rain to let up,
which it didn't all day, so we ended up wandering moistly
around the area, taking in the to a nonshopper unremarkable
Central Market and to a nondevout unremarkable but amusing
Hindu temple. As the rains seemed to be regrouping in an
atypical way, we decided to find the nearest train station
and get back to Sentral as quickly as possible, passing up
any chance for a nice Chinese dinner, which we didn't need
anyhow.

We had half an hour of happy hour left at the lounge, so
free-flow red ink and (for me) Jack Daniel's were in order.
The snacks were not thrilling.


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