Now you’re back on Gombak Bridge.

The ball is in your court: move on to a Riverbank Stroll (Jalan Benteng) or continue to cross the road towards Malacca Street and Leboh Ampang (story about “the hidden hand“)

Use the pedestrian crossing in front of the mosque, turn right and just at the curb you’ll spot a cartoon figure (from a local cartoonist, Lat. His illustrations are about Malaysian daily life.). Here turn left towards Malacca Street. Keep walking along the train station pavement and you’ll spot several more.

Stop for a moment to admire the traditional architecture of the Bank Muamalat building, a striking homage to the Malay house.  The facade panels resemble ornately decorated window walls or “janda berhias”. The roofline showcases a layered filigree eaves, the “ande-ande.” Finally, the prominent “A-shape” frame is a “pemeleh,” the traditional bargeboard.

All aboard now? Excellent! Let’s take a stroll down this short but storied street—Malacca Street. Kecil-kecil cili padi, as the saying goes—small but mighty. This lane holds more tales than a kopitiam gossip session. It was named after Kampung Malacca, a bustling community that once called this area home. Its residents prayed at the Kampung Malacca Mosque, which, by the way, now stands as Masjid India. You see? KL was so kecil back then, everything was just a sekejap jalan away.

Bellamy’s Boys Brigade

But let’s get to the juicy bits. In its early days, Malacca Street had a triangular tract of land, and right there stood Bellamy’s Brigade. Who’s Bellamy, you ask? Ah, Captain H.F. Bellamy, orang kuat of his time, was the one who formed KL’s first Volunteer Fire Brigade in 1884. Picture this: Bellamy standing on the balcony of the Selangor Club, probably thinking, “Lihatlah hasil kerja saya!” after his brigade won their first competition in record time. A proper bangga moment, I’m sure.

Fires back then were no joke. In January 1881, a small spark from an oil lamp in an opium shop set the town ablaze, engulfing homes in flames that spread faster than kuih laris at a Ramadan bazaar. Five hundred people were left homeless, and Yap Ah Loy himself suffered losses of $100,000. The aftermath? KL was rebuilt with broader streets and roofs made of tile instead of palm thatch.

And then came Bellamy’s Brigade, armed with a state-of-the-art Merryweather steam fire engine. This beauty could pump 360 gallons of water and was pulled by big, strong shire horses imported all the way from Britain. Bukan calang-calang, these horses were trained to trot out of their stables and line up in front of the engine at the first sound of the alarm. It was a sight to behold, I tell you.

Now, right here on this very street, the brigade’s fire station was completed in 1893. A sturdy reminder of KL’s resilience and its determination to rise from the ashes, time and again. Come, mari duduk, this bench looks perfect for a quick break. Let me regale you with more stories from days long past.

Methodist Episcopal Church

From Bus Hub to Train Tracks

Close your eyes for a moment—no peeking! Let the phantom fumes of a bustling bus station waft through your senses. Now, imagine this: once upon a time, right here where Bank Muamalat now stands tall and stoic, there was a different kind of hubbub. Back in the swinging ’60s, this spot was the nerve centre of KL’s bus station for Len Seng.

Picture it: buses rolling in, their engines grumbling louder than an ah pek at the pasar. The numbers were iconic: 168, 169, 169A—Gombak; 170—Zoo Negara; 166—Wardieburn Camp; and 165—Air Panas. They carried folks from the outskirts into the city, stopping faithfully at Malacca Street and Lebuh Ampang.

And the station? Oh, it was riuh-rendah, the chatter of commuters, the honking horns, and the occasional pemandu bus hollering, ‘Cepat sikit, nak jalan ni!’ It wasn’t just a bus station; it was a microcosm of city life, a meeting point for stories to begin, end, and sometimes collide.

Now, the only engines humming here are those of the financial world, but if you stand still enough, maybe you’ll hear the ghostly echo of a conductor yelling, ‘Gombak satu!’ or the distant rumble of a departing Len Seng bus.

Further ahead, you’ll notice a collection of metal sculptures, and the pièce de résistance—a pohon beringin, or gunungan. This intricate piece marks the grand opening and closing of a shadow puppet (wayang kulit) performance. Go on, have a good look. Take your time figuring out the many characters etched onto this masterpiece. Don’t worry, I won’t quiz you on them… unless, of course, you fancy a challenge. And if you’re itching to know more, drop me a line—I do love sharing a tale or two.

You see that shop house right across the road, the one with a signboard about a curry house? Once upon a time, it was home to the Tamil Nesan daily (the first issue published on 24th September 1924 and they ceased operations on 1st February 2019) and they also printed a weekly English supplement titled, the Indian Pioneers. But there’s more than meets the eye. Take a closer look and you’ll notice it has a rather high frontage. Why, you ask? Well, this is where Lord Murugan’s silver chariot was kept before it made its way to the Sri Maha Mariamman Temple on High Street. If you walk over and take a good look, you’ll still see the tracks that once guided the chariot. Quite the historical jejak (footprint), don’t you think?

And right next door, you’ll find The Selangor & Kuala Lumpur Teo Chew Association building, with its charming bay windows. If memory serves, the ground floor once housed a splendid Nyonya restaurant called Kapitans Club. Oh, those glorious lunches we had!

Flanking the left of the former Tamil Nesan office (as you face the front), there was Bilal Restaurant (a popular Indian Muslim restaurant in the 60s), followed by the Federal Bakery just after.

Now, across the street lies FS Nasi Kandar, cross over now and take a swift right, walking alongside the pavement. Stay on this path, and it’ll lead you straight to Leboh Ampang, the heart of Little India City Centre. A little further along, you’ll spot Junior Kuppanna Restaurant—a sure sign you’re on the right track. Keep going, take a right at the next junction, and voilà! You’ve arrived at Leboh Ampang. Easy as that. Just don’t blame me if the scents of spices distract you along the way.

Let’s slow down here, i could use a cup of teh tarik.