Profile
Blog
Photos
Videos
Another day, another continent. Where are we? The things our sluggish, and jetlagged, brains processed in the first 24 hours of arrival should give it away: More tricky street names (containing the word Jalang a lot), temperature pushing 40 degrees, scooters jostling each other for prime position at the traffic lights, shoes abandoned haphazardly on the pavement, very short people, garlands of flowers being sold from street shacks on wheels, pork nowhere to be found but the lowly chicken spit roasted left, right and centre, boney but wily cats slinking in alleys, toilets without tissue (not a far cry from Bolivia or Peru, to be fair) But an ominous looking hose instead (Mat affectionately refers to it as a, "bum gun"), Formica tables in grubby side streets adorned with food exuding irresistible smells (even with the fear of getting another parasite at the forefront of my mind!), simple, discreet mosques and wildly coloured temples coexisting on the same streets, a frantic crush of people that still find the time to smile at strangers.
Malaysia, has captured our hearts and imaginations with her giddying, frenetic pace. KL was our induction point, and has revived our sense of adventure with it's wonderful 'Otherness'.
We took to the hills, literally, after 3 nights in KL (where we actually went on one of those tourist buses for the first time and listened to audio commentaries on all the key things in the city) to explore the Cameron Highlands sprawling tea plantations and lose ourselves in the remote beauty.
As is the rule of arriving in a new place, you see twists in the presentation of familiar things from home. I was entirely confident therefore, slipping my shoes off (as the sign dictated) and pushing open the door marked with the profile of a woman in a head scarf (it was the buses one and only toilet stop on the way to the Cameron Highlands) How quickly amusement turns to horror! I was, if you hadn't guessed it, unwittingly in the prayer room, where a woman gave me a stern look while I, prolonging the awkwardness, looked in dismay at the taps and stand in basin (for washing feet) that bore a reminder that this was not a suitable place for a wee. When the reality finally dawned, I practically fled in shame, inappropriate hair flying, back to the car park where about 20 locals all eyed me suspiciously.
Madness stalked us right through the doors of our hostel room when, after all the exertion of wandering in the sun in the tea plantation (and taking in a butterfly and bee farm) an annoying drilling sound disturbed our reading and then... Duh duh duh, smoke started pouring under the door and through the edge of the windows, emerging in a panic (Mat sans shoes) any hope of a view of the cause eradicated, we had to rush through a corridor full of swirling, stinking smoke. In brief, government officials had rocked up and barged in to fumigate without permission of owner or warning to guests. It transpired a killer Mossi, attracted to fresh water, was on the loose, so small you barely notice it, with a bite you can't feel and our hostel had a newly watered garden out front and a tree covered mountain, harbouring the raindrops, out back. The whole road was drowned in the smoke, like a thick fog. It was surreal, standing in the street surrounded by other tourists (now surveying who had paid for what jabs!) not knowing when we could go back in!
As for escaping the tourist trail? The Cameron Highlands was packed, Easter weekend unbeknown to us, the first hostel we tried, in the pouring rain, was full, the main street was restaurants shoulder to shoulder with food places where the owners thrust menus in our faces while spouting perfect English. (In fact, everywhere we've been English has been spoken quite beautifully) When we walked the 3.5 kms to the Boh tea plantation the whole windy trail was bumper to bumper and peple jumping from their cars to help others navigate tricky bends. None of it mattered though, the atmosphere was jovial, rather than Butlins, and the views were luscious and flowers sweet smelling specimens on Steroids.
I particularly felt warmed by the tiny number of houses nestled in the valley of the plantation, the 5 children we saw, playing football naturally, came rushing over begging us to take photos of them and all waved until we were out of sight. Added to that, we passed the tiny school: which was only one room deep and six rooms long, with immaculate minature gardens blossoming infront of each room. You couldn't help but wonder if life would be less worrying and simpler if you were surrounded by such beauty and calm.
From there to Penang: it might be a Unesco World city but it was filthy hot and the hostel crawled with tiny bugs (got a good war wound on my chin) and we just didn't want to be there. We took to the water and sailed for Langkowi, last stop in Malaysia, and swam in the warm waters and ate amazing local foods.
All seemed too easy and it inevitably was! Tsunami warnings hit last night and we were in a flap for a good 2 hours trying to decide which piece of contradictory advice we should follow. The guy working at our hostel told us we had to leave for high ground, but being from KL he couldn't tell us where to go, and then he rushed off on his bike. The taxi drivers just blatantly laughed at our request to go inland, saying they weren't worried. We couldn't get a single coherent direction of how to get away from the coast, and shops were all emptying while the Taxi drivers (surely the human cockroaches, able to survive even Armageddon) heckled gleefully. So, we kept refreshing the website and sat alone outside our hostel, a small bag each packed and a grim feeling quelling any conversation. Luckily, the threat passed and we went out for dinner, but it made us even more keenly aware of Mother Nature and that bit more grateful for being from Britain.
The reprieve from impeding doom was not, however, to last, today we met the driver from the depths of Mordor, who raced along at 100mph overtaking cars that were already overtaking other cars and honking anybody who dared to refuse to budge into the ditch/ hard shoulder for him when the roads narrowed and he still wanted to overtake. We had to endure this for 7 hours! To make matters even more tense his amigo had been going through all the backpacks helping himself to stuff he fancied. We realised when everytime people got off their rucksacks were chucked on the pavements before they had even made it from the bus and the bus would then charge forward without warning while they stood screaming after it. It was really horrible for us because we were getting off last (forced to sit there seething and stressing over our backpacks) and were the only tourists left by then and I had no intention of letting that slimy git keep anything of mine, but I needn't have worried they hadn't touched ours; probably knowing it would be hard to get away from the bus station quickly and wanting to have a break or end their shift there. It now made sense though, why they were so particular about checking where we were going before loading our bags.
Anyway, alive and still laden with luggage, we have arrived in Phuket, Thailand, tomorrow Thai NY starts... Bring on 3 days of water fights in the street!
- comments
Nicole Love your blog! Keep it up :-)
Dad You have clearly inherited my literary skills.Great blog. Missing you.
Phil Brill blog, a fascinating read :) Hope you are having a great time!
Paul and Claire We are both sitting here, enthralled with our mouths wide open in amazement! Glad you're having such a wonderful time. Thank you for sharing the experience with us all through the BLOG - It's almost like being there :O)
Duncan Hahahaaaa; Bum-gun!!
Steph Only you Keegan, only you! Sounds incredible. Eat lots of Roti Canai and Ayam goreng. lots of loves xxx
John Vivid portrait Kel, sounds like Malaysia provided some intense experiences, probably needed after the ageing process brought on by inactivity of the NZ South Island. I'm about to now read Mat's entry and see who is the better writer. I'm expecting a victory for you Keegan!