LAUNG PRABANG | Lu'an Pra'ban

       1. The former capital of the Kingdom of Luang Prabang

       2. The kind of place that makes you think, "Hmmm... perhaps I should become a monk."

Another early morning- this time descending into Luang Prabang.

Located in North Central Laos and surrounded by mountainous terrain, our planes final decent involves passing (what feels) perilously close to the mountaintops, which pierce through the heavy morning fog like green icebergs. The pilot relays to us that she has to keep a holding pattern and wait for the fog to clear slightly- that she has minimal visibility.

Why would she tell us that?

Those mountains start to feel even closer as we make our way down into the fog, the knuckles become a little whiter.

It's eerily quiet as we're enveloped by the thick white fog- then all of a sudden we’re on the runway. We’ve arrived. 

It’s a special moment when you disembark someplace new, look around and realise: “Holy ****! This is an entirely different world”. Feeling like perhaps you're the first to discover it. An adventurer.

Though of course- you're not.

The city reflects the French colonial influence, as well as links to its hill-tribe history. The Hammer and Sickle flag hangs from shopfronts alongside the flag of Laos. Monks quietly pass by and the aroma of food drifts along the streets.

Luang Prabang is a melting pot. A confusing mix of colonialism, communism and Buddhism- along with amazing architecture, stunning natural beauty and delicious…. delicious food.

It remains a spiritual centre of Laos, home to dozens and dozens of Buddhist temples and stupors. Every morning, the locals set up their blankets along the road in front of the temples for the daily ritual of Alms giving.

Hundreds of monks make a silent progression along the street, collecting offering from the devout. For the monks, the rice collected will serve as their only meal of the day. It’s a silent affair- The sound of monks shuffling along the street… and the occasional scooter passing by.

It’s not only the early mornings which offer stunning beauty in Luang Prabang. Ascending Mount Phou Si of an evening offers those who arrive at its peak, a breathtaking vista and a prime seat to witness the sunset.

The pace of life in Luang Prabang is slower- at least slower than that which I’m accustomed to- and a day can be spent meandering the Mekong via longboat- Making your way up river to the Pak Ou Caves.

With a small stopover to sample some local village whiskey.

Pak Ou Caves are filled with hundreds of Buddha statues laid out over the walls shelves of the cave. It’s a peaceful space- and the refuge of the cave offers amazing views back across the Laos countryside.

No trip to Luang Prabang would be complete without a trip (or three) to the night market. And no trip to the night market would be complete without a stop on food-street. A tight alleyway crammed with food-stalls, tables, and bodies searching for their dinner. It hot, muggy and compressed- so a Beer Lao helps you find some respite.

And if a morning with the monks, a boat trip along the Mekong and a Beer Lao hasn't left you in love with Luang Prabang, then a visit to the Kuang Si Falls will certainly seal the deal. The natural beauty seems almost fake. Photoshopped in front of your own eyes. It is, hands down, one of the most stunning natural beauties I've ever seen. Photos do no justice. 

Luang Prabang is jewel of Southeast Asia. Relatively untouched and unseen, it is undoubtedly worth the white-knuckle decent through the early morning fog.

Malaysia Boleh

Malaysia Boleh | Məˈleɪzɪə Bo-lay

         1. An patriotic expression meaning ‘Malaysia Can do It’

         2. The kind of term a mat salleh will use to try and sound like a local. 

So I’m a mat salleh in Malaysia. A white fella. Apparently it’s the term loosely derived from an expression meaning mad sailor and sometimes it feels like an apt way to describe life in South East Asia. Though the idea that I’m shipwrecked- marooned in a foreign land- is far from accurate. In fact having lived in Malaysia for over a year, I feel more like a local than a sailor passing through.

I can tell you where to get the best nasi kandar… outside of Penang,.. Or where to grab the tastiest banana-leaf in town.

Nirwana. Ofcourse

I’ve been to Cherating, Ipoh, Kuala Selangor, and Malacca. Had sneaky getaways to Langkawi and spent time on the Klan Jetties in Penang. I’ve seen the turtles in Terengganu and have explored the Klang Valley inside out.

I can even do a decent job of directing you around KLCC.

Just go down Jalan Ampang and take a kanan at Jalan Sultan Ismail- if you hit Dang Wangi, you’ve gone too far mate.

Also, I feel like I’ve got a better understanding of the built environment of KL- and there’s more to it than the architectural monoculture that slaps you in the face when you first arrive.

Yes- I know I’ve previously touched on the poor architecture of Malaysia’s capital- but that probably won’t stop me doing it again.

KL’s architecture is built on a wave of uncontrolled development- green lit in an effort to establish Kuala Lumpur as one of South East Asia’s most contemporary cities- but has seen much of the historic building stock knocked down to be replaced with hermetically sealed boxes. Glass towers lacking any connection to the fine grain of the city or urban environment. A cynic might suggest it’s a result of unregulated developers making hay while the sun shines- with no consideration of the city.

Not that I would ever think that...

Fortunately there are exceptions to this at all scales. You might look to the PJ Trade Centre to see how a commercial building can be designed in the tropics.  

A building which at first glance may seem like a grey monolith of unarticulated breezeblocks and brickwork, is on closer inspection one which is designed with the architectural principles in mind.

Keeping the sun off the façade is a good thing, right? Allowing a building to purge the heat isn’t that naft, is it? Opening a building to the prevailing breezes and creating a ground plane which isn’t a heat sink would generally be thought of as common sense - wouldn’t it?

Well then why does the glazed monoculture of commercial shit continue to be built?

Kevin Low’s PJTC can be seen as an exemplar of designing commercial buildings in the tropics. Of course all the boring realities of commercial buildings need to be addressed- GFA’s and car park numbers – PWD access and fire stair distances all need to be met. But KL architecture could learn a thing or two from buildings like this. We don’t need 30-storey glazed boxes to define ourselves as global contemporaries.

Sometimes all that shimmers is shit.

If you hitch yourself a ride north-west of KL you’ll find yourself in Georgetown, Penang. A former British colonial trading hub; now a UNESCO World Heritage Site made up of Chinese shophouse architecture and the best hawker food to be found in Malaysia.

Oh man. The char koay teow. The nasi kandar. The wanton mee. The roti Canai. We’re not even scratching the surface either. Malaysians will all agree- Penang is synonymous with good eats. But if you can drag your fat arse away from the hawker stands (which is a challenge), you’ll find yourself immersed in the old jalans of Georgetown and eager to explore every corner of the grafitti-art streets.

Shophouse architecture is simple. It’s given away in the name, really. Take a shop- about 5 meters wide by 25 meters deep- and put it on the ground floor. Take a house of equal dimensions and slap it on top. Guess what you gots yourself?

*Gasps*

Clever. Huh.

However when you rinse and repeat this process over and over you have yourself a dense network of this compact building type, which creates an efficient urban fabric of commercial and residential architecture.

This building stock has aged with a thick patina of wear-n-tear which elevates and accentuates the heritage value of the streetscape – complimented by installations of street-art which have become a tourist attraction for the city. 

By respecting and retaining its existing built environment, Penang has capitalised on its character. Defined itself through it. It makes Penang unique and memorable. It’s almost a form of critical regionalism-A local vernacular. KL could learn another lesson from this- that there’s a lot of value in its existing building stock. That creating a skyline of homogenous skyscrapers is not necessarily the way to establish yourself as unique and contemporary city. In fact- you could argue it does the opposite.

What this all boils down to is that it’s not too late for Malaysia to continue defining(or redefining) itself as a leading S.E Asian country- a global player- while at the same time resisting the urge to sell-out its heritage and culture.

It’s tricky when you’re a met salleh. You want to see the country you’ve grown to love continue to uniquely define itself and grow- while not seeming like a mad sailor who’s fresh off the boat. 

All I know is that the cultural ingredients required to make something special are already here- and if we can capitalise on it- Malaysia can redefine itself as a greater a leader on South East Asia.

You know, cause Malaysia Boleh!

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Kua·la Lum·pur | kwa-le-lum-, pur | noun

            1. Humid madness. Manic and Amazing

So… I live in KL now. And these are my musings.

Okay. Okay. Okay. We’ll talk about the food, alright? Everyone will tell you that’s what really makes KL a great place to live. But first, let me be an archi-nerd.

I’m still figuring out where things are in KL. Finding my feet. Which is tricky in Kuala Lumpur because it’s an atypical city. An assortment of highly populated nodes, erratically strung together. Each separated by a threshold of dilapidated houses and shops, poorly lit and slightly unnerving to cross through.

*Please don’t get shived. Please don’t get shived*

And that’s if you know where you’re headed. Which can be tricky.

The masterplan of KL resembles a bowl of spaghetti tipped out on the floor- all twisted and rolling with no legibility and seemingly lacking structure. A knotted mat of jalans connected by overpasses, which strangle the newly arrived tourist’s ability to make sense of where you are- and where you’re headed. To get from A to B, one must first detour via C, Q and make a brief pass through Z. Perhaps this is a hangover of it’s sporadic tin mining heritage, built in sprawling clusters and connected by goat tracks.

Which is in itself part of the charm. Sometimes.

When experienced from the back seat of a taxi, the road networks are dizzying. Clogged and chaotic, with swarms of scooters honking as they wisp past the standstill traffic.

It reminds me of a scrum. Rolling forward. Heaving. Limbs and shoulders, pushing in and overtaking. Especially the cabs- the best of the worst- who cut in at the last moment, getting their elbows out as they jump from lane to lane.

I can’t imagine myself ever driving here. And if I did, I would undoubtedly find myself lost in no time.

So why not walk then, right?

Wrong.

KL seems to have forgotten the pedestrian. Okay, sure, the all-consuming humidity does somewhat kill the thought of any outdoor activity- but should you choose to brave the environment, you really won’t get too far. Footpaths just aren’t a thing. When you do manage to find one, you’ll quickly come to an abrupt point where the sidewalk ends for no reason and you’re surrounded by the torrent of cars. 

Honk. Honk.

Apparently, one does not walk in KL. They dart. They pick their moment and split between cars. A real life game of Frogger.

Don’t rush too quickly though, because that humidity will turn you into a puddle on the side of the road in no time. It’s impossible to escape the humidity when you’re outside. No matter what time of day or night. It’s there. And strangely, the architecture generally responds poorly to the climate. Sealed boxes, mechanically cooled. Everyone hidden in their air conditioning. Which is a crime- because when you do find a building that has been carefully designed- it great.

Aww man. Its really great.

Masjid Negara- the National Mosque, is a perfect example. A concrete umbrella, surrounded by a moat of water and wrapped in arabesque screens. Its high ceilings and open floor plan allow breezes to flow through the screens, gently sweep across the ponds, and cool its patrons- who are hidden within the well shaded confines of it spaces.

It’s so simple. But it works so well.

It also gets you away from the haze for a little while.

Ahhh the haze. My ‘get out of jail card’ conversation-maker when meeting new people. The locals love to tell you who’s to blame, why it’s someone else’s fault, and how long it’ll last for. The expats will all tell you how wrong the API readings are.

“It’s atleast 70 points off”

All I know is I haven’t seen the sun for a month. Just an orange glowing globe screened by a blanket of grey, thick haze.

And despite all this- Kuala Lumpur is amazing. A-Ma-Zing. It’s alive and it’s heaving and it’s exciting and it’s manic. How could you not love that?

And then there’s the food. Aww man. The food!

Out. Of. This. World.

But I think I’ll talk about it next time. I know, I know- I said I’d talk about the food here, but I need to go get my frogger-action on. What a stitch up, right?

Oh. And I met a monkey.