Jungle Room. For real.

What feels like ages ago, at the beginning of 2010, Craig and I wandered away from our island home of Australia to lurk and peer into the wonders of South Asia. Both our flights into Bangkok and out of Phnom Penh stopped in the Kuala Lumpur International Airport. As those of you who read the blog regularly already know, the night we spent in KLIA was one of the worst we'd ever had. Only to be topped by our last night in Kratie.

But, I did mention the KLIA Jungle Room, and some folks have asked me what the hell that is. And fair enough. I mean, what kind of oxymoron is that? You can't put a jungle in a room. A jungle is wild. By putting it in a room, well, you're definitely not talking wild anymore. You're talking more... unruly garden.

So, the Jungle Room is part of the airport. You walk through a door, and suddenly you're outside in stifling humid heat, on this little enclosed boardwalk, in a sort of ceiling-less fenced-off area filled with plants and trees, but you can still see the airport through the trees. It's netted, to keep birds out, I assume. And there are jungle plants everywhere and a waterfall, and they even pipe in wild bird sounds. It's a nice–albeit oxymoronic–addition to an airport.

And as Craig went by KLIA on his way to Sydney from Manchester, he took some snaps.

And I haven't stopped writing the blog altogether-- I've just been busy, reading, getting my first week at school over, making dumplings, doing walking tours, and generally falling in absolute love with this town.

But the bad weather hasn't kicked in yet, so you'll have to wait to see how much I'm whinging in December!