You will never ever EVER complain about drivers in your hometown when you attempt to perform the duties of a pedestrian in Malaysia.

Malaysian drivers will not stop for you. EVER.

We have crossed the street with a six year old, a three year old, and a baby, and they have not corrected their velocity one iota.

It adds a certain spice to life.

A spice called terror.

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Must go. I have alcohol waiting for me.

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Now that I think about it… the alcohol probably doesn’t help me as a pedestrian.

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Tough.

You can be quite certain that it’s really freaking hot when you are in a restaurant for an hour and you are quietly muttering to yourself, “Turn on the air conditioning… turn on the air conditioning… turn on the air conditioning…” and then you go outside and you discover that, yes — the air conditioning was on.

My brain? She has melted.

Yes. I really mean monkeys and rooster hanging out in the Batu Caves.

I wouldn’t lie to you.

MONKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYS!

Still can’t breathe properly.

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FYI: Camera sucks in dark outdoors, so out of the 200 hundred monkey pictures that I took, I have a handful that are good. Will sort through more later for other keepers. But they have been BURNED into my brain meat.

We’ve been travelling now for 15 hours. Three airports, seven security checks, six glasses of water, and 4 time zones.

We haven’t even hit the halfway point.

And My Lovely Wife just stuck her tongue out at me.

Malaysia, here we come!