Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur, Penang: Asia in the mirror

From the top of the vertiginous Menara Tower, the eye takes in a 360° mishmash of expressways, gleaming skyscrapers and hills carpeted with tropical forests, from which emerge here and there the tin roofs of the last historic districts. No master plan, cranes everywhere: Kuala Lumpur, KL as everyone calls it, an acronym that should be pronounced in English, is reinventing itself at breakneck speed. Swept along by the building fever that is sweeping across Asia, the Malaysian capital is proving to be a fascinating laboratory for the 21st century, which is still in its infancy.

Named after the country's powerful oil company, the Petronas Towers are emblematic of this unbridled race for modernity. When they were inaugurated in 1998, at 452 metres they were once the tallest towers in the world, and they still hold this record in the twin towers category. Their slender silhouettes dominate the Kuala Lumpur City Centre, a gigantic mall and business centre packed with white-collar workers from all over the city. On the 41st floor, a footbridge links the two steel-clad spires: having your photo taken here is a must, and Malaysians don't shy away from it. Higher up, an observation platform has been built on the 86th floor of one of the towers. The viewpoint is extraordinary, but also strategic, as anyone passing through KL inevitably sacrifices to the tradition of climbing up there.

Malay village next to the Petronas Towers

It's the ideal place to remind the world that Malaysia, one of the Asian tigers, has set its sights on becoming a fully developed industrial country by 2020. "A fully developed industrialised nation by 2020".a kakemono proclaims. However, at the foot of the audacious Petronas, a Malay stronghold is putting up resistance: Kampung Baru is a delightful urban anomaly with its traditional wooden houses, exuberant gardens and real village atmosphere, as the local owners fiercely refuse to sell their plot of land to developers.

Futuristic Kuala Lumpur still has a past, and that's where its charm lies. A past that is inevitably tinged with nostalgia, expressed in small, impressionistic touches in the working-class districts of Chinatown and Little India, as well as around the very British Merdeka Square. It was not far from this elegant quadrilateral that the city was born, somewhat by chance, when in the middle of the 19th century a group of Chinese prospectors in search of tin decided to take a break in the middle of the jungle, at the confluence of two rivers. Good luck to them. The deposits of this precious metal discovered there proved to be generous and, despite the malaria, the bamboo hut camp of the early days was soon transformed into a prosperous concession to which adventurers from all over Asia soon converged.

British relics

he destiny of Kuala Lumpur, literally the muddy "confluence", was sealed. The Malay sultan of the region initially entrusted responsibility for this turbulent Far East to a Kapitan China, the title given to the administrators of this enclave of traders from the Middle Kingdom. A few years later, the British made it the capital of the newly federated Malay states under their authority. KL owes its first urban development plan, as well as its immense Lake Gardens park, to these adventurous subjects of Her Majesty. It is still its green lung, even if a combination of motorways and railways now guts the luxuriant hills where sublime old mansions nestle. Particularly Carcosa Seri Negara, the former private residence of the representative of the Crown, which today welcomes VIP guests of the government, as well as corporate events.

Of course, Malaysia has reclaimed its rights from the Empire. Cricket has long ceased to be played on the impeccable lawn of Merdeka Square, the Padang in colonial times, where independence was proclaimed on 30 August 1957. As for the very select Royal Selangor Club, in the purest neo-Tudor style, it is now frequented by Malaysian high society. Against this backdrop, the imposing Sultan Abdul Samad building, formerly the headquarters of the British government, boasts Victorian architecture enriched with Mughal and Moorish elements. Its clock tower looks a little like Big Ben and, were it not for the palm trees lined up neatly and the radiant heat, you might think you were in London. But in the background, the minarets and domes of brick and pink and white marble of Masjid Jamek take us straight back to Asia.

This elegant century-old mosque is particularly dear to the hearts of the Malays, as it stands on the very site where the city was founded. It stands guard over the remains of a historic district, where a few "shophouses" - tall houses so typical of South-East Asia, combining a commercial activity at street level with a residential function upstairs - have been freshly repainted, a fragile testimony to the new determination to preserve a heritage that has been badly damaged in recent decades.

Small shops and old cafés

Just a stone's throw away, the Art Deco hall of Central Market narrowly escaped destruction and is now home to a craft centre. It's an ideal place to stop off for a spot of shopping, with plenty of choice and quality on offer. This is not the case with the stalls in the neighbouring market of Jalan Petaling, the heart of Chinatown, where you will find mostly shabby imitations of the big international luxury brands and old-fashioned gadgets. In the surrounding alleyways, tiny stalls and old cafés, small traders selling anything and everything, and Taoist temples wafting wisps of incense: life is sparkling, deliciously everyday. Suddenly, a Tamil temple. This is the kind of surprise that KL is so fond of. In Old Little India, you'll also see Malay Muslims rolling out their prayer rugs to a thunderous Bollywood soundtrack...

Multicoloured saris and garlands of flowers, fluorescent sweets and gold jewellery: Little India is a merry hive of activity, with some remarkable Art Deco buildings standing out. Here, a cinema; there, miraculously preserved in its original state, a restaurant once frequented by the writer Somerset Maugham. All nuggets. On nearby Asian Heritage Row, old merchants' houses are home to bars and restaurants that have become nightlife hotspots. After dark, KL reveals a completely different face. An epicurean who parties, eats and drinks with enthusiasm. At dusk, night markets and street kitchens set up shop right on the pavements. In Chinatown and Little India, of course, but also a stone's throw from the Petronas, notably on Jalan Alor, a popular thoroughfare that transforms into a huge open-air canteen every evening. A gourmet's delight in Asia: impeccably fresh seafood, spicy noodle soups, kebabs dipped in peanut sauce... everything is delicious. The atmosphere is friendly, the beer is served cold and the bill is very light.

Later, the whole of the Bukit Bintang district, a favourite with expatriates, vibrates to the rhythm of electro music. The names of the establishments set the tone: Whisky Bar, Havana and Movida stand shoulder to shoulder. The Western influence is omnipresent. The best bars in the aptly named Golden Triangle play the globalisation card with their designer decor and cutting-edge playlists: they embody the dreams of a youth more focused on the promise of the future than the glories of the past.

George Town, a charming patchwork

And this past is sublimated in George Town, the recently UNESCO-listed capital of the island of Penang in the Andaman Sea. While Kuala Lumpur was founded on tin fever, Penang prospered on trade. And it shows. Founded by the British at the end of the 18th century on the sea route linking India to China, George Town is multicultural by nature. This Straits trading post has been able to blend Malay, European, Chinese and Indian influences to create a unique patchwork, cosmopolitan and tolerant, languid and sophisticated. In a word, bewitching.

Penang is not the most beautiful island in Malaysia, too concrete, too industrialised, but its old town is undoubtedly one of the places in the world that we are happy to have seen, smelled and savoured. To respect the spirit of the place, you have to go down to the Eastern & Oriental of the Sarkis brothers, simply the E & O for connoisseurs. Facing the sea, this grande dame of colonial hotels has just been given a makeover without losing any of its cachet. It is one of the jewels in the crown of the Heritage Trail, which also takes in the mosques and temples of Chinatown. George Town's buildings are a seamless blend of sumptuous edifices from the days of the British Raj and modest warehouses, sumptuous mansions that once belonged to wealthy Chinese traders and places of worship for all religions.

The fact remains that, even if you can discover a colourful Little India and a Muslim quarter huddled around its mosque, the city is undeniably Chinese. Originally from Fujian or Guangdong, they were the first, and the most numerous, to emigrate to the trading posts in the Straits. Literate, unlike the natives, they became the favourite business partners of the representatives of the English East India Company, soon forming a local elite.

Shooting of the film Indochine

As only men were allowed to leave China, they married Malay women, forging over time the mixed and baroque culture of the Peranakan - the Chinese of the Straits - which also flourished in Singapore, Malacca and Java. These mixed couples, nicknamed Baba Nyonya in Malaysia - Baba meaning father in Chinese and Nyonya deriving from lady in Portuguese - have bequeathed Penang some of its architectural gems. Cheong Fatt Tze arrived penniless from China and built a veritable empire here. His superb indigo blue residence, seen in the film Indochine, has been lovingly restored. Chinese doors and Art Nouveau stained glass windows, a succession of patios adorned with bamboo and wrought iron balustrades: the styles merge in perfect harmony. Transformed into a charming hotel, the venerable residence also makes its vast lounges available for private events.

But it's when you visit the Pinang Peranakan Mansion, a mansion with an aniseed-green facade that has been converted into a museum, that you can best appreciate the eclecticism of the Detroit Chinese: precious English porcelain, finely carved opium beds inlaid with mother-of-pearl, Victorian furniture and Chinese silks create an explosive aesthetic syncretism. It's a bit of a fusspot, but it's a moving one. On the walls, portraits show an extraordinarily accessorised women's dress code, contrasting with the sobriety of men dressed in Western style, right down to the bow tie, in order to reassure their British interlocutors, who were very strict about etiquette.

Even more exotic are the Kongsi, or "clan houses", built according to the rules of Feng Shui. Protected by celestial guardians, they resemble temples, but their role went far beyond the religious, even if ancestor worship is still celebrated there with fervour. Drenched in gold and red, the palaces of the city's most important clans almost resemble imperial palaces: nerve centres in the lives of Chinese communities organised into secret societies at the time, they take us back to an Asia of legend, where opium reigned supreme and secret passages allowed people to flee discreetly in the event of fratricidal war.... On the other hand, the house where Dr Sun Yat Sen, founder of modern China, prepared the Canton uprising is quite simple, with its décor unchanged since 1910.

Georgetown is a cultural city, but it's also a place where you can play hooky. Take a stroll through the narrow streets where a young Lithuanian artist has painted murals of delightful freshness, or take a break at the Chinahouse, a bar-restaurant-gallery-shop that has become "the place to be" in town. Then set off again. Push open the door of a temple dedicated to the Goddess of Mercy. Linger in front of a delicately carved doorframe. Treat yourself to a dish of prawn noodles, a speciality whose recipe is jealously guarded by a hilarious landlady. Explore Chew Jetty, a floating village at the entrance to the port. To finally find yourself at sunset on the Padang esplanade. Set off again and again, mingling with the gourmet crowds who now stroll around under the glow of vermilion lanterns, choosing a food court from among dozens of others, at the drop of a hat... Penang's nights are balmy, and its tasty street food just the right amount of spice.

Before it's too late

A few boutique hotels are now beginning to sprout up in the streets of Chinatown, where the best means of transport when you get tired is still the trishaw, the cycling version of the rickshaw of yesteryear. They only add to the charms of a city that has remained very authentic, with its workshops, markets and warm-hearted inhabitants. But these are the harbingers of things to come: come to Penang in a hurry, because it is a very fashionable destination, especially for Chinese tourists from the "mainland", as they say here, who are rediscovering an ancestral culture that was swept away in their country by the Cultural Revolution.

There are also whispers that the Singaporeans are buying up the charming Georgetown shophouses by the street. So, sure enough, one day soon, things will be different. For the time being, it's a great getaway. The proof is that we hardly ever take the time to go to the beach. And yet, there are some very nice ones in Penang, notably Batu Ferringhi, at the northern tip of the island, where several splendid beach resorts are anchored.