The bus to KL said SUPER VIP on the side in big letters, and in fact it was pretty swanky. We reclined our plush seats nearly all the way back and gazed out the window for 6 hours as endless fields of oil palm trees flickered past. (Malaysia and Indonesia have been tearing down their jungles in a race for the dubious distinction of being the world's biggest palm oil producer.)
As evening set in we pulled into a rest area for dinner. There's something universal about bus rest stops: the merciless fluorescent lighting? the gift shops full of useless trinkets? the sad plastic trays? Maybe it's all three. If I squinted a bit, I could almost convince myself I was in a Greyhound rest stop somewhere in New Jersey.
Neon-bright boxes of Poosh! candy from Argentina only enhanced the sense of being both everywhere and nowhere.
A tasty plate of flat rice noodles (kuihteow) placed us firmly back in Asia, though.