Arriving at K.L. Sentral, a glitzy modern terminus, I immediately scored a result on the forecourt in securing a ticket for the impending Grand Prix. The cheapest ticket was a very reasonable 50 Ringit (about 7 quid 50), but in the end with the help of my dodgy student card I had picked up in Bangkok I bagged the best vantage point outwith the grandstands for a measly 75. The preference for the train had in part been that KLs excellent yet dinky nearby Monorail would connect me to Bukit Bintang (Star Hill), very close to my intended digs. It all came flooding back as I discovered the Green Hut Inn very close to where I had previously stayed, noticing in the passing that my one criticism of KL in the past, the state of the pavements, were all now pristine. The skyline was filled with jostling shiny skyscrapers, with Starbucks and designer outlets at their feet, it was indicative that Malaysia was certainly no economic slouch. Resolving that contrary to my original intention there was no point in paying for the considerable 2 hour trek out for the Friday practice session, I gave up the racing cars for a foray around KLs familiar thoroughfares, spurred on by a glimpse of the mighty Petronas Towers. It was almost disappointing then to see that KL had succumbed to the bullshit globalisation of Cowboy diners and Argentinian steakhouses, TGI Fridays and Irish Pubs, but then also nice to know that in Malaysia's tolerant multi-ethnic society, everything was available yet just not too much in your face. In that respect it immediately endeared itself to me all over again in comparison to Bangkok.