A capital city built from scratch on a rubber plantation in the 1990s, with a pink mosque and almost nobody on the streets.
In 1995, Malaysia began building a new administrative capital on 4,900 hectares of oil palm and rubber plantation, 25 kilometres south of Kuala Lumpur.
The federal government moved there from 1999. Putrajaya is now a Federal Territory in its own right, holding the prime minister’s office, most ministries and the courts, while parliament and the royal palace stayed in Kuala Lumpur.
It was Mahathir Mohamad’s project, and it is the clearest physical statement of what his Vision 2020 — Malaysia as a developed nation by 2020 — was supposed to look like.
What to see
Putra Mosque — Masjid Putra, completed 1999, built in rose-tinted granite so that it reads as pink, on the edge of the lake. It is the photograph everyone takes and it deserves to be. Free entry outside prayer times, robes provided.
Perdana Putra, the prime minister’s office — a vast green-domed building on the hill above the mosque, in a style usually described as Islamic-Malay-Palladian and best described as extremely large.
Putra Square between them, with the flagpole and the Putra Bridge, modelled on the Khaju Bridge in Isfahan.
Seri Wawasan Bridge, a white cable-stayed bridge shaped like a sail, and the most photographed of the eight bridges.
Iron Mosque — Masjid Tuanku Mizan Zainal Abidin — a completely different building: steel-framed, with walls of mesh screens carrying Qur’anic calligraphy and no air conditioning in the main hall, ventilated by design. Architecturally it is the more interesting of the two mosques.
Putrajaya Botanical Gardens, the largest in Malaysia.
Putrajaya Lake, artificial, with cruise boats and a Wetlands park at the head.
Millennium Monument, an obelisk carved with the country’s history.
The honest view
Putrajaya is fascinating and it is not a city in the ordinary sense.
The streets are wide, immaculate and largely empty of pedestrians. The buildings are monumental and set far apart. There are almost no shops, no street life, no bars, and very little of the mess that makes a place feel inhabited.
Around 100,000 people live there, most of them civil servants and their families, and outside office hours it is very quiet indeed.
Some visitors find it eerie and some find it magnificent. Almost everyone finds it strange.
It also cost an enormous amount of public money, and the debate about whether that was the right use of it has been running for thirty years.
Cyberjaya
Next door, and the other half of the same project — a planned technology city intended as Malaysia’s Silicon Valley, launched in 1997.
It has a university, some data centres, and has never become what was announced. It is worth ten minutes of driving through if you are curious about the gap between a masterplan and an outcome.
Practical
KLIA Transit from KL Sentral to Putrajaya Sentral, about twenty minutes and inexpensive. This is the same line as the airport train, so a stop at Putrajaya combines well with an arrival or departure if you have hours to spare.
From Putrajaya Sentral you still need to get around — Grab is the practical answer, and the fares are small.
Go early. There is essentially no shade and the middle of the day is brutal.
The Hot Air Balloon Fiesta in March and the Floria flower festival in mid-year are the main events.
