The first night I was in Kuching city, I ventured out, rather tentatively, to pinpoint why it had this strange effect on me. In a day and a half, I would leave to longhouses and rainforests, and I wanted to know something about this city &mdash the heart now of such an aggressive tourist circuit. Walking by night in Kuching is lonely at first, and a little strange, lit as its part colonial, part harshly modern architecture is by neon yellow, green, red lights. As I walked closer to the waterfront, and reached the Clock Tower, it was like falling through a trapdoor into a different place, a place with people, lightly scented with beer, and with this Portuguese band whose music had Kuching dancing. This was my first, and lasting, impression of the lovely Kuching waterfront. I left this glow of music and festivity to walk along the water, where couples sat close and planned their lives, or the next day&rsquos sightseeing. A million lights played on the shiny black water, and on the paved walkway, lit the red and black Iban designs which I could instantly picture as a stunning dress.