Moving to a New Place
Today was the day I moved into a new hotel in Kuala Lumpur. Deep inside, I wanted to get back to traveling faster, but until my computer is returned, I need to endure these quiet, waiting days.
Still, there was one thing that gave me peace of mind—the hotel allowed me to keep my bicycle inside the room. Knowing my bike was safe right beside me gave me enormous relief, especially since it was recently purchased. Losing it to theft is something I can't even imagine.
The hotel itself was surprisingly spacious and pleasant. If I had to name one drawback, it would be that the bathroom water drained poorly, leaving behind a faint odor. But this is common during travel. The idea of "cleanliness guaranteed" isn't something you find everywhere. Instead, what exists here is a different cultural standard: not spotless perfection, but "good enough for everyday life."
Travel has taught me this over and over again. When you throw yourself into another culture, it's important to adapt to its rules and ways. Even within one's own country, adjusting to different customs can be hard. Doing it abroad is even more challenging. But with every stay in hotels, guesthouses, and dormitories, I've come to accept this as part of the journey.
A Taste That Stayed with Me
After settling in, I walked out to find lunch. Just nearby was a small local food stall with a warm and lively atmosphere. I sat down and ordered, and what came was a meal I won't forget.
One dish had tender, cartilage-like meat with a crunchy texture. Another was a hearty stew of meatballs and vegetables, tasting like a Malaysian take on pot-au-feu. The flavor sank deep into my body. I knew instantly—if I ever return to this area, I'll eat this again without hesitation. My body had memorized the taste.
With renewed energy, I made my way to the next accommodation—a dormitory-style hostel.
An Unusual Room
The place looked like "a stylish prison." Narrow and compact, but to my surprise, it was comfortable. Even with my height of 183 cm, I could stretch out my legs easily. The only difficulty was my luggage, which limited space for turning in bed. Without it, the room would have felt quite wide.
After inspecting the room, I decided to explore the neighborhood while waiting to meet a follower from social media.
A New Friend in the City
For two hours, I wandered through greenery until finally, I met him for the first time. We decided to go straight to eat ramen together.
He was studying in Kuala Lumpur, and from the very beginning, his way of speaking captured my attention. Every thought and every word felt original and thoughtful. I found myself drawn in.
The ramen cost 15.8 RM, around 556 yen—slightly cheaper than Japan. The flavor, however, was noticeably lighter. Still, what made me smile was seeing naruto slices floating in the bowl. I realized it had been a long time since I last saw naruto in ramen. In Japan, it seems rare nowadays.
A Walk Through Blue Lights
After dinner, he introduced me to a walkway along the river. For about one kilometer, the path was lit in a glowing blue, like an "Illuminated Cave." It reminded me of the Blue Cave in Shibuya, but here it was longer, quieter, and without the crowds.
Crowds are something I struggle with, whether in Japan or while traveling. They blur my senses. Even if the scenery is beautiful, congestion dulls my ability to feel it fully. A sight that should be experienced at 100% often becomes only 70% because of the stress of the crowd.
That evening, however, I was able to enjoy the beauty without distraction. The quiet lights, the calm flow of the river, and the shared time with a new friend—it all felt right.
