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I invited Nick and Britta (whom I met on on my road trip from Melbourne to Perth) to join me in Malaysia. I had already made plans to visit my friend Foong there. He is Malaysian and from the capital, Kuala Lumpur (KL); we met in Melbourne. One day over breakfast Foong told me he was returning to KL to visit his friends and family and if i was there during that time he would happily show me some local sights. I immediately accepted his generous offer. His response to my asking if others could come was "more the merrier". And so that was that. Nick and Britta accepted my offer, we booked our tickets and on March 5th the three of us flew off to Malaysia.
We spent the week enjoying the new culture, foods, and each others company. It was exciting to just watch people doing their day to day routines, which were so different than our own. We ate new foods and experienced first-time flavours. Foong was an awesome tour guide and we spent an amazing day together seeing a temple in a mountain, a gondola ride to a crazy casino on a different mountain, and so much more. Another day we met three Japanese guys while having dinner and took them out for their first ever club experience. We danced until it closed and then started a dance party on the street! So much fun. I'm glad most things were easily reachable by foot or public transit in KL, because it has some of the worst traffic I have ever seen - poor Foong for having to drive in it. And one night while eating dinner it began to rain heavily and within minutes there was a flash flood where I had to trudge across the road in dirty, knee-high water to save my luggage from water damage.
On Foongs suggestion, we decided to spend our last couple of nights in Panang - an island off the coast in the North - before Britta and I headed to Thailand.
Unlucky for Nick, he got sick the day after our arrival in Penang. Unlucky for me, he gave it to me the following day.
The day I got sick was the day Britta and I had to get up at 4:20am to catch, what was supposed to be, an 8hour bus ride to Phuket, Thailand.
Let me tell you about that day.
The scheduled departure was at 4:50am. The bus didn't arrive until 7am. Now, "Thai Time" is a very real thing - the concept of everything running late. However, waiting over 2 hours even got the man who sold us the ticket alarmed. He thought maybe they got into an accident because he's never seen the bus so late in all his years. He was legitimately concerned and curious. To this my stomach knotted, for I knew that this was a sign - today was not going to be a smooth and easy and I had to deal with it while being ill.
When the bus arrived, it was an old white van. When I stepped inside it smelled just as one would hope it didn't - a mixture of mold and moth malls. I tried to cover my nose to mask the scent and hoped my need for sleep would allow me to escape my current situation by entering a pleasant dream state.
I was awaken to "Passport! Passport!". Our driver is a man that knows maybe three words of English and one of them is the most crucial belongings I own. I reluctantly hand it over. We have no idea where we are or what is going on. I get out to stretch my legs and buy some tissues to blow my nose.
Short is the driver in both patience and stature. He yells at us to get back in the bus. We get out again only for customs to document our exit out of Malaysia; the next stop is to cross the Thailand border. There was another tourist on the bus who convinced us all to include 2 Ringgit (Malaysian currency) in our passports when we hand them to border control. This, apparently, is an offering to help things run smoother. We saved ourselves one ringgit when our driver requested it before we got in line for customs - apparently he was well informed.
Passing the border proved easier than expected and we were back in the bus with little hassle.
We switch buses and drivers within the next hour and continue driving. Some time later our new driver yells "Phuket, Phuket" which was our que to grab our stuff and get out. Having no idea where we were and very few people speaking English, we arrived at a small information/tourist stand that demanded our money to board yet ANOTHER bus which would take us the final 2.5 hours. But we had already paid! We tried to articulate this best we could and the driver realized his scam to keep our money and make us pay twice had failed. He passed money to the man at the info desk securing our next bus.
The wait was long and proved even longer because we had not realized there was a time change that accompanied the border crossing. I was feeling powerless and vulnerable. On a good day, this day would challenge you. On a day where you feel ill, this day was near unbearable. We knew not what was happening or where we were at any given time. Almost no one spoke our language. Everything tasted funny and different. The toilets were filthy holes in the ground. The air was hot, dirty and humid. The tourist information center was a desk on the side of the road with a misspelling of the word "information". Hours later our van arrived.
We squeeze into a small space in the back. There was luggage occupying where my feet should have rested so I was forced to sit in a ball similar to the fetal position with my luggage on my lap and a Thai woman sleeping on my right shoulder. This journey was three hours long. At the end I was so nauseous, sick and uncomfortable I feared vomiting in the backseat.
We were almost there. We just needed to get to our hostel where I dreamed of a clean bed to rest after this long and strenuous day.
During the walk to our hostel someone mislead us and tried to get us to stay elsewhere. We quickly determined the truth and made our way along again.
We arrived. Our 8 hour journey turned out to be over 14 hours. And when we finally arrived, I lost it. The accommodation was less then the refuge I was hoping for. The shower was both broken and clogged - I stood in a pool of dirty water. The bed was rock hard. The room was boiling hot. Noises from the hectic busy street rattled my head. And the smells, oh the smells. Hot sewer wafting in my direction. This didn't help my lack of appetite and overall struggles. I was beyond exhaustion and weakness. I knew tomorrow I had to get up and travel again before I could stay in one place and relax. I sat on the bed and I cried. It was just too much. In that moment I wanted only one thing - I wanted to go home.
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