Kuala Lumpur took me longer to love than Bangkok or Hanoi, and then it never let go. It looks at first like a city of malls and flyovers, all glass and traffic, but walk a little and the layers appear: the muddy river confluence where tin miners landed in 1857, Moorish arches built by the British, Hindu gopurams painted every colour, Chinese clan houses smelling of incense, a Malay village of stilt houses in the shadow of the Petronas Towers. Three cultures, three cuisines, one shared love of eating late at night.
These twenty routes are the walks, temples, gardens and getaways I keep going back to, from the old centre to the cool tea hills and the river where fireflies blink in unison. Go out early, hide from the afternoon heat and the inevitable downpour, and come back out when the hawker stalls light up.
