Try to guess which city I'm talking about. It's a capital city of a country, its layout was planned from the beginning, it has large roundabouts and wide boulevards leading to the administrative centre, plenty of green space, and a man-made lake covering about 650 hectares.
You guessed Putrajaya, right? I mean, where else could fit that description? Oh... of course, our very own Canberra!
The descriptions of the two cities are eerily alike and as I explore Putrajaya, I can't help but constantly think about Canberra. So many things are similar - as concepts, at least. But in reality, they are outweighed by the differences. What I end up realising is that Malaysia's new capital city could learn a lot from Australia's.
Putrajaya was only created in 1995, with the vision that it would be a second capital for Malaysia, housing the Prime Minister and the administration of the federal government, while just 25 kilometres away, Kuala Lumpur would remain the official capital and the home of the country's head of state.
The Prime Minister took up residence in Putrajaya in 1999, the judiciary moved here in 2003, and the last of the government departments relocated in 2012. Potential residents - particularly government workers - were offered subsidies and incentives to live here and the population is now officially about 100,000 people.
"So where is everyone?", I ask myself.
The centre of Putrajaya is designed around an extended central axis 4.2 kilometres long. Throughout the day, I walk its entire length in each direction, discovering a whole raft of interesting landmarks and magnificent modern architecture. Yet I spot only a handful of other people out on the streets until lunchtime, when a bit of a crowd forms around a temporary street food market - one of the few places I've seen where you can get something to eat.
After a while, I realise what is wrong. As a planned city, the centre of Putrajaya is dedicated to administration buildings. With no residential areas, there is little need for shops (I have trouble finding anywhere to buy water) or even restaurants (there are just a few).
Days are spent in the office; the rest of the time is spent at home, either in the suburbs or back in KL, which is only about 30 minutes by train. It makes for a lifeless atmosphere verging on post-apocalyptic.
But does this make for a bad visit? No, not at all. Instead, I turn my attention to the city's buildings which, for now at least, are its most interesting inhabitants. With grand designs and a generous budget, Putrajaya's architects have created a collection of incredible pieces of art.
I think the highlights are the city's two main mosques, both on the edge of the lake but vastly different in style. At the Putra Mosque, rose-tinted granite is used to create a large pink house of worship that features design elements from the traditional Islamic architecture you'll find in the Middle East or North Africa.
The more recent Tuanku Mizan Zainal Abidin Mosque has the nickname the "Iron Mosque" because it is 70 per cent steel (the rest is concrete) and feels futuristic in comparison. Unusually, it doesn't have a minaret, a sign of the contemporary approach that's been brought to the design of Putrajaya.
Across from Putra Mosque is Perdana Putra, the imposing office of the Prime Minister. Whether intentionally or not, it reflects multicultural Malaysia with its fusion of styles including Islamic, Malay, Palladian, and Neoclassic. Further down the street, the grand Palace of Justice has parallels with the architecture of the Taj Mahal, an ornately decorated central dome surrounded by four smaller ones. And across from the court complex, the office of the local authority, the Perbadanan Putrajaya, features a 10-storey arch that creates a frame for the promenade to the Iron Mosque.
Does it matter what these buildings hold? Half the time, I don't really know what I'm looking at, yet it's still captivating. The inverted glass structure that looks like an enormous emerald (the Malaysia Energy Commission, apparently); the towers covered in a white lattice evoking thoughts of spring flowers (Malaysian Islamic Development Department Complex, a sign tells me); and the dark futuristic buildings elevated on concrete pylons that could be from RoboCop (the Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission, I read).
All day I walk around the city, through parks and across bridges, on a self-guided tour of office blocks. Would an international tourist do that around Barton? They would go to Parliament House, yes, the High Court, sure. But the departmental offices? Probably not.
So the Malaysian urban planners have created something quite special in Putrajaya - an art gallery of architecture that is a delight to explore. But have they actually created a city?
In short, no, if you need life to call it a city. But perhaps we just need to give it time. It wouldn't have been fair to have judged Canberra in 1941, which is when it was the same age Putrajaya is now.
If Malaysia's new capital is going to grow into itself - and just like with ours, there's been plenty of space put aside to grow into - it might want to look at how Canberra found its vibrancy over the years.
And when you're next in Kuala Lumpur, consider taking the 30-minute train ride (or 45-minute trip on the new MRT line which opened just last month) to see Putrajaya for yourself and discover the beginnings of the Asian Canberra.
You can see more things to do in Putrajaya on Michael's Time Travel Turtle website.