A Solitary Birthday in Malaysia

I’m not one for oversharing, and I’ve never been a fan of the typical “travel blog” format. You know, the ones that tell you what to do in a city as if every traveler wants the same experiences. That’s not me. My travels are personal, filled with moments that reflect what I need, not what’s trending.

I like writing, though. I’ve tried to write about my trips before, like my day trip to Jervis Bay after reading Bill Bryson’s memoirs. But it felt more like a chore than a joy. Then there was my post on four months in Nairobi—that was fun to write. And in October, I combined stories with reflections from my Annapurna Base Camp trek, and it just clicked.

So, here’s an attempt to capture one such experience, my birthday week in Malaysia.

A Month on the Move

This trip was in December 2023, a month of travel split between nine days in Malaysia and three weeks in Bali. It ended up being a trip of contrasts. Malaysia felt underwhelming, a place where I struggled to find my rhythm. Bali, on the other hand, was something else entirely. Now, a year later, as I write this on a flight to Dubai on my birthday in December 2024, I find myself reflecting on Malaysia, the part of the trip that didn’t quite click at the time, but still left me with something to think about.

At the time, Malaysia felt lonely and heavy. My long-distance relationship was crumbling, and while I had planned this trip to distract myself, the weight of it all followed me. Spending my birthday alone in a foreign city only amplified that feeling.

Here’s what stood out.

1. Learning to Enjoy Your Own Company

This wasn’t my first solo trip, not even close. I’ve spent years traveling alone, eating at restaurants by myself, exploring new cities without needing company. But there’s something about spending your birthday alone in a foreign city that feels different. Not necessarily bad, just… noticeable.

On my birthday eve, I wandered through a night market in Bukit Bintang, weaving through a mix of tourists and locals. The air smelled of grilled meat and fried snacks, not exactly great for a vegetarian, but I found a falafel wrap. I grabbed a smoothie, took in the buzz of the crowd for a bit, then walked back to my hotel. No big celebration, no dramatic moment, just me, figuring out what to do with myself.

The next day, I treated myself to matcha at a café, lunch at a vegan restaurant, and a long, aimless walk. I made it to the Petronas Towers park just as the sky turned grey, and soon enough, the rain started. Not the light drizzle you can ignore, but the kind that soaks you in minutes. I stood under a tree for a while before giving up and walking through it. Later, I ended the evening with a drink on the hotel rooftop, chatting with friends back home.

Nothing about the day was particularly special. But looking back, those small moments, finding a good café, getting caught in the rain, sitting alone with a book, taught me that I could enjoy my own company in a way I hadn’t before.

2. Carry a Book Everywhere

December saw me devouring books, something I credit to always having my Kindle handy. Whether at cafés, during transit, or while eating alone, I replaced scrolling through Instagram with the rich worlds of fiction.

I remember sitting in a quiet café in Penang, rain tapping on the windows, completely lost in the Wayward Pines trilogy by Blake Crouch. I finished another one between bites of nasi lemak (yes, a vegetarian version exists). Books became my company, and the cities I was in became part of the stories.

Malaysia, with its mix of modern cityscapes and colonial-era buildings, its bustling food markets and slow, sleepy afternoons, felt like the right kind of place to get lost in fiction.

3. Push Your Comfort Zone (Or Not, And That’s Fine Too)

To step out of my shell, I booked a social hostel in Penang after staying in a private room in Kuala Lumpur. My first mixed dorm, 10 people, lots of buzz.

But here’s the funny thing: I barely spoke to anyone. The hostel had nightly bar gatherings, people swapped stories in the common area, and yet I found myself sticking to my own bubble. In the Space Hotel in Chinatown, many digital nomads were working at the same desk, but I barely spoke to anyone. I had small chats – a polite nod here, a quick conversation with a Malaysian uncle on a hike up Penang Hill, but nothing more.

There were moments, though. A guy outside a KL metro station struck up a conversation with me, and we chatted for a few minutes before going our separate ways. In a café, I noticed a woman with a Byron Bay tote bag reading the same book I had just finished, I thought about saying something, but didn’t.

Looking back, I see those missed connections. But I don’t regret them. Some trips are about meeting people, others are about being with yourself. This one was the latter.

4. Forget the Bucket List

Moving On

A year ago, I flew to Malaysia to escape my own mind. I thought I’d spend a miserable birthday in a new country, but instead, I got something else, a quiet reset. The city didn’t change me. There was no big revelation. But it gave me space, and sometimes, that’s enough.

Then I landed in Bali. And everything shifted.

Malaysia had felt like I was carrying something heavy, walking through days that blurred together. But in Bali, the weight lifted. The energy was different, the people, the places—everything felt open in a way that Malaysia hadn’t. I spent three weeks there, and in that time, I learned more about myself than I had in months. Lessons that came not from solitude, but from movement, conversations, and unexpected experiences.

But that’s a story for the next post.

“You go away for a long time and return a different person—you never come all the way back.”

Paul Theroux