Whilst in Melaka we poked around the shops, ate lots of the local cuisine (chicken and rice balls for lunch and curry laksa - basically noodle soup with unidentified floating objects in it - for dinner), and visited the remains of the old Dutch church that used to be there. More excitingly though, we went to a foot spa and paid for fish to nibble at our feet to get rid of all our dead skin and make them lovely and soft. The lady behind the counter showed us a picture of teeny tiny and inoffensively-beige fish happily nudging around the feet of a lady before we handed our money over (the equivalent of three pounds for twenty minutes) but after washing our feet and being led to the water pits it was clear that a little artistic license had been used with the advertising. The fish they proposed to actually set loose on our feet were huge and jet black. Some of them were literally half the length of our feet! This did make me slightly nervous about how long they'd lived and how many sets of feet they'd chomped down on in aforementioned lifetime but then again I don't know what I expected really - for the spa to throw them out after a couple of uses and buy lovely new shiny ones in? Actually that had kind of been what I'd been thinking and I felt bad as soon as I realised it. Maybe the fish could sense my completely unfair resentment at their longevity as they seemed to bite extra hard when I first lowered my feet in. Or maybe they hadn't had a meal in a while. (Do they get given fish food or do they just eat feet? What happens if there are no customers, do they starve??) It was an odd sensation, a cross between being scratched - quite firmly - and tickled, but we soon realised that if we kept our feet firmly on the bottom of the tank they couldn't get to the instep and it didn't tickle half as much. And guess what? Our feet really were smoother once the twenty minutes were up.

Jak was obviously in a pampering mood as he decided to get his hair cut immediately afterwards. We spent half an hour going into various hairdressers pretending to ask them how much a hair cut would be but in reality trying to establish how well they spoke English. Our efforts were in vain, however, as the barber Jak ended up with spectacularly misunderstood Jak's (admittedly rather vague) request for 'short on the sides, longer on top'. What Jak meant was about a 2 on the sides, 4 on top. What he got was very short on the sides, a huge step and what could best be described as pumpkin foliage on top. He looked like Gareth from the office. Actually he looked bloody miserable as he sat gazing in mute horror as the monstrosity on his head unfolded. It was just too awful and too awkward for him to try and correct the poor barber after the first couple of unsuccessful attempts to recommunicate what he wanted, and besides the hairdresser was happily tweaking Jak's long fringe and even talking about putting some colour in it (he suggested orange - imagine!). Before he knew it Jak ended up paying and walking out with The Haircut on his head. I had to run out as he was getting his wallet out and find a quiet corner in which to howl with laughter, I literally couldn't hold it in any longer. I hope the barber didn't notice my shaking shoulders when I was in there. That night saw us out on our hostel's balcony with a towel round Jak's shoulders and a pair of nail scissors, snipping away fistfuls of hair at a time. I think I did a pretty good repair job, even if I do say so myself.

Yesterday we caught another bus onwards and upwards, this time to Kuala Lumpur ('KL'), the capital of Malaysia. KL is an overwhelming city: it's hot and humid and sticky and there is just so much of everything, but especially of the people and the traffic. There are SO many cars! After dropping our bags off at the hostel we dropped in at the tourism centre to pick up a map and some leaflets and dawdled along the bustling night markets. Clothes are cheap here which is lucky as I've had to buy a few new things that cover my shoulders and knees since arriving. Malaysia is a predominantly Muslim country so it's frowned upon to go around scantily clad, and it's disrespectful as well. I've noticed that most female backpackers cover up more out here and the ones that don't stick out like a sore thumb. I just wish it wasn't so hot and, well, bikini weather all the time!

Today we visited the Menara KL Tower, often known as just the KL tower. It's the second tallest freestanding tower in the world and visitors can have 360 degree views of the city, including the impressive Petronas Towers, from its observation deck located 276m above ground. There were free audio guides but we couldn't work the fiddly headsets and gave up on them after a couple of minutes. The views were still impressive even if we didn't know what we were looking at! There were a lot of skyscrapers, heaps of green forest and even mountain caves in the distance. The ticket included free entrance to a petting zoo at the base of the tower which was crowded and smelly but interesting nonetheless. There were a couple of huge snakes, plenty of birds, monkeys, chipmunks, chinchillas, sugar gliders and even a two headed terrapin.

This afternoon we got purposefully lost. We stumbled across a crafts complex where locals were sculpting pottery, carving wood and painting fabrics. We walked through two rows of random but cute painted bears standing 7 feet tall, one representing every country of the United Nations. We went for beer and OJ and a haircut (me this time) when the heavens opened and the rain hammered down. We squeezed onto the monorail at rush hour, noses pressed up against the glass. Jak was appalled but all I was thinking was 'at least they have air conditioning on the trains out here, perhaps they should talk to southeastern trains in England.' We ate corn on the cob, satay chicken, duck and spicy broccoli skewers from a street stall, carefully avoiding the frogs and baby octopus on offer. And now we are back at our hostel, well and truly exhausted.

It's good that we have no energy left as we can't even turn round in our room. With our backpacks in the corner (standing upright I might add) there is literally about a square 50cm of floor left, if that. We have to take it in turns when we want to do things that involve standing up and we've had to line our toiletries up under the bed. The first night I was genuinely concerned that there may not be enough air to last the night but it seems there was as we're still here :-)