Kuala Lumpur is another planet, all right. Whenever I go there I feel I am in a place where the rules change drastically. Especially when it comes to driving. When my wife and I went over the South China Sea last week to visit our son in KL we immediately knew, minutes after being picked up in our boy’s white MyVi, that things are done very differently over there.
The first sign of trouble came as soon as we hit the expressway. It became apparent straight away that everything is done in hyper-fast motion on KL’s roads. Now I’m no coward when it comes to speed – but over here in Kuching it’s impossible to drive safely at a speed greater than 100 KPH simply because the roads are too bumpy and not wide enough. But in KL – ah that’s a different story.
For instance, it seems that the way to go is to drive as fast as possible, as close as possible to the rear bumper of the car in front. You should have heard the screams of panic coming from my dear wife in the back seat: “Sunny slow down! Stop stop stop!! Adoiiiiiiiii! Careful the bike! Careful the taxi!! Don’t go too fast bahhhhh!” I must admit, even I was gripping the floor of Sunny’s car with toes that cut into the metal floor like the talons of a bird of prey.
It was arguably even more scary when Sunny took the car round a sharp bend. Doing 90! My face must have left a permanent imprint in the glass of the passenger side window as my body was shoved by centrifugal force outwards towards doom. My right hand nearly forced the safety handle out of its mounting. And that was with a seat belt!
But all my son could say is “don’t worry mum, don’t worry dad, no problem” as he took one hand off the wheel and narrowly avoided a taxi before coming to a racing halt at the first toll booth.
Once we neared the silver towers and concrete canyons of central KL, I also noticed that my son’s digital fuel gauge was blinking urgently, something which I rarely allow to happen when I am driving back home. I suggested he look for a petrol station and pronto. This scared, hungry and overweight orang puteh didn’t feel like pushing a Myvi for miles and miles along KL’s murderous motorways in search of a petrol station thank you very much!!
But before we could get to our quarry we had to endure that most ubiquitous and compulsory of Kuala Lumpur driving experiences: The Jam. Now traffic jams are natural features of cities all over the world – you should see London! But in Kuala Lumpur, jams are something special. For one thing, they are pronounced ‘jem’ by locals, not that that makes them any more comical. Furthermore, they can and do happen absolutely everywhere. They can hold you up for hours and hours. And they are frequently caused by stupid things like rain, broken down trucks on the side of the road, people stopping to look at accidents and, in the case of our ‘jem’, the police conducting a check, presumably for road tax dodgers.
After an hour or two in a KL traffic jam, I really understand why most Malaysian drivers prefer driving automatics over manuals. I personally am a lifelong manual driver, as I believe that driving an auto is like driving a go-kart or a milk float. There is no real skill in it – you just put your foot down and the car does the rest. James Bond, for one, definitely would prefer the power and control one has over a manual car but I bet James Bond has never dealt with KL traffic jams.
You see, in jams like those, if you have to keep changing gear with your left foot on the clutch, your left foot will very soon turn to jelly and need amputating. Anyway, automatics allow the car to move off quicker and more smoothly than a manual. Maybe I should think of converting my car to automatic transmission when Kuching’s short jams become as bad as those in KL....
Finally, one very dangerous thing about KL jams is the frightening way that all drivers have of constantly changing lane. You really have to be on your toes, and allow absolutely no space in front of you whatsoever, because if you do, if you allow a micromillimetre of space in front of your bumper, some bike or car or truck will barge in front of you. I remember one hair raising experience, just after we filled up the car with petrol, when we were in a jam not far from the Petronas Twin Towers. There was a stream of cars to the left of us, a humongous car transporter filled with colourful Honda Jazzes to the right and even more cars and bikes in front, all jockeying for position like Formula One drivers and honking their horns like each honk brought them money.
Suddenly, a van came out of absolutely nowhere on our left and loomed up right next to me, trying to push his way through in front of us, even though the way was clearly blocked. I swear that if there had been one more coat of paint on our car, he would have hit us! You can imagine the language that slipped out of our normally civil and polite mouths as this crazy lunatic tried to kill us. Luckily, he fell back and we didn’t see him again...
So the long and the short of it is, KL is one hell of a ride, with an emphasis on the hell part! You need eyes in the front, back, sides and top of your head and nerves of steel as well as a well-tuned automatic transmission. But I must say, our son proved himself a very capable driver in such conditions and I would gladly ride with him again, though maybe next time I will bring a crash helmet!
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