MALAYSIA & SINGAPORE
2,494 Kilometres – 51 Days
26 December 2009 - 15 February 2010
Photos
26 December - Hat Yai,
Thailand – Malaysia border – Kuala Perlis, Malaysia – 110 km
Immediately after
crossing the Thailand/Malaysian border, the difference in countries was clearly
visible and mosques replaced Buddhist monasteries. Malaysia was a multicultural
and multi-confessional country, but the official religion was Islam. The
majority of women were conservatively dressed or wore headscarves.
Ernest and I headed
straight to the coast to the small village of Kuala Perlis in the far north-western
corner of Malaysia. The Kuala Perlis jetty was the main connecting point to Langkawi
Island and reached via a beautiful ride with majestic limestone hills in the
background.
An interesting thing in
Kuala Perlis was the “Floating Mosque”. The mosque was built next to the Kuala
Perlis jetty and extended over the water with the result at high tide it looked
as if floating. The mosque was further unique in that the walls were adorned
with corals and pebbles, making it a peaceful place to view the sunset over the
Strait of Malacca.
27-28 December - Kuala
Perlis – Langkawi - By ferry & 26 km cycling
From Kuala Perlis, a regular
ferry ran to Kuah Jetty on Langkawi Island, 30 kilometres off the coast. I was
looking forward to taking a break since racing towards the border to get out of
Thailand before our visas expired, a distance of 893 kilometres in seven days! No
fun at all and not what I considered cycle touring.
Nonetheless, Malaysia’s
scenery was straight out of a tourist brochure. Once at Langkawi island, a
short 22-kilometre ride took us to Pantai Cenang. Pantai Cenang was pricey,
touristy and had no beach hut, as imagined. The most inexpensive accommodation was
at a backpacker hostel across from the beach. At least the island was duty-free,
giving the place a good party vibe of which Ernest took full advantage.
29 December - Langkawi
Island – 90 km
In the morning, I loaded
up and moved on. An enjoyable ride led around the island, but I never saw any budget
accommodation, and best to return to Pantai Tengah, a short distance from our
previous accommodation.
The ATM was out of cash.
It took biking to the airport (20 kilometres away) to draw money prior to settling
into Zackary’s. Accommodation was hard to come by, as being a school holiday nearly
all places were filled with Malay families from the big cities. However, the
beach was crowded with burka-clad ladies swimming entirely clothed; quite a thing
to see if not used to it.
30 December - Pantai
Tengah Beach
Zackary’s was a relaxing
place to hang out. With its little pool and communal areas, guest kitchen and complimentary
coffee, guests sat around and barely went anywhere.
A nearby, sizeable
duty-free shop sold cheap beer (not found elsewhere in Malaysia). Almost all bought
beer there and sat around the pool shooting the breeze. My day was spent lounging
at the beach, and socialising with other guests. Supper was at the Indian restaurant
and afterwards, all returned to Zackary’s for more idle chatter.
31 December - Pantai
Tengah Beach
Staying an additional day
at Zackary’s came easy as the guesthouse was an easy-going place, and so were the
guests.
Being New Year’s Eve, a
few beers were consumed as the evening wore on. Most sat around until midnight,
wished each other a happy New Year, and then went on to wait for the moon’s
partial eclipse, which occurred at around 3h00, and thus, 5h00 before going to
bed.
1 January - Pantai
Tengah Beach
Waking up not feeling too
bright-eyed and bushy-tailed didn’t come as a surprise, and we set out to the Indian
restaurant to eat more spicy food. The roti canai was delicious but did little to
relieve my headache. Back at Zachary’s, the rest of the group looked slightly
worse for wear, and the majority were lying around the pool nursing headaches.
2 January - Pantai
Tengah Beach, Langkawi – Alor Star (Alor Setar) – 72 km
With great reluctance, I
packed the bike, had a cup of coffee, ate the leftover bread, and waved the
other guests goodbye. Once on the mainland, a coastal path ran to Alor Setar and
was closer than envisaged. The route was picturesque and flat with the beach to
my right and the backwaters to my left.
The Comfort Motel in Alor
Setar, across the way from the beautiful Masjid Zahir, provided a room with a bed,
shower, and a place to wash cycling clothes. My search to find a Malaysian map
was on in earnest, but still to no avail. While trying to find a laptop charger,
I snapped a few pics of the beautiful mosque. While unsuccessful in finding a
charger, the food was intriguing and wrapped in newspaper - some in a pyramid
shape and others in a flat parcel. Having no idea what was inside, finding one
containing fried noodles and the other extremely spicy rice was a relief. Both
were delicious.
3 January - Alor Star (Alor
Setar) – Georgetown, Penang Island – 130 km
My cup water heater came
in handy when making coffee. The leftover noodles from the previous night made
a good breakfast.
Feeling remarkably
energetic, but without a map, I followed my nose along a small coastal road, only
going wrong a few times but nothing too serious. A torrential downpour completely
soaked me and then abruptly ended 10 kilometres further. I felt stupid pedalling
along, with water dripping off me along a path that hadn’t seen a drop of rain
in days.
The way was flat and ran through
densely forested areas, past Buddhist, Chinese and Hindu temples (good to see
old Ganesh again), and of course, the ever-present mosques. What a
multicultural society Malaysia was.
In Butterworth, locating
the ferry terminal was an uncomplicated affair and from where boats departed to
the nearby island of Penang. A short ferry ride upon an awfully packed and
crowded ferry took passengers to historic Georgetown. From the ferry,
Georgetown appeared everything but historical as highrise condominiums
punctured the skyline as far as the eye could see. However, the short cycle
from the jetty to Love Lane Inn Hostel revealed why the Old Town is a UNESCO World
Heritage Site.
With Penang’s central
location in the Strait of Malacca, the island was an essential stopover along
the ancient trade route between Europe, the Middle East, India and China. As
the Strait of Malacca is situated on the crossing point of two monsoon seasons,
ships couldn’t set sail until the winds were favourable. As a result, Penang
became a diverse melting pot of cultures; a diversity that remains until this day.
The streets were lined with vendors, and one could feast upon Malay, Indian and
Chinese cuisine. One dish more delicious than the other.
Neil and Emma (whom I met
at Zackary’s) arrived shortly afterwards, maybe not as strange as long-term
travellers generally seek the cheapest accommodation.
4 January - Georgetown
Georgetown turned out a fabulous
place with architectural styles from each corner of the earth. The town was
blessed with an ensemble of old colonial-era buildings from Indian, Chinese,
Arab, Malay, Burmese and even Victorian. The most amazing was the railway station,
a beautiful neo-classical style building but without a railway line. The day
was spent exploring the narrow alleys and fascinating Indian and Chinese
quarters, complete with the best Indian and Chinese food. Coming upon Chinese
steamed rice buns, a notebook charger, as well as a new SIM card, made the day
a highly successful one.
5 January - Georgetown
6 January - Georgetown
– Taiping – 115 km
Leaving Georgetown, I didn’t
return to the mainland by ferry. Instead, I biked over the Penang Bridge, an
impressive 13.5-kilometre-long bridge linking the island with Butterworth. The
bridge was easily the longest I’ve ever cycled across. On the opposite side, a
path headed south past mangrove swamps and bird sanctuaries—beautifully lush
and densely forested, a reminder Malaysia was indeed in the tropics.
A severe monsoon storm
rolled in, complete with lightning and roaring thunder. While taking shelter at
a roadside food stall with merely a rickety umbrella as cover, the lady from
the stall proceeded to feed me endlessly. Huddled together, we waited until the
worst had blown over.
Once the rain subsided, I
continued to Taiping with a full belly. The Malay people are immensely hospitable,
and enquiring about accommodation, I was escorted to a joint with reasonably
priced rooms. At the hotel, the staff were immensely accommodating and allowed the
use of their washing machine. It was surprising they even let me in, as sopping
wet, I dripped pools of water all over their squeaky-clean tiles.
Taiping was known for its
well-preserved colonial architecture, and there were indeed a few. However, the
zoo was my attraction of choice as one could investigate the zoo at night, and fun
walking along, listening to the chewing and snorting of animals in the pitch dark.
7 January - Taiping -
Ipoh – 88 km
Another excellent day was
spent biking, without any of the previous day’s thunderstorms and being scenic,
the ride was even more enjoyable. Although Malaysia was pricey (compared to the
rest of Southeast Asia), one could still find inexpensive meals. All one had to
do was look where truck drivers took their lunch. On spotting a few trucks
parked in front of a “Dhaba”, I was served a delicious curried pineapple and
rice meal.
Meeting a fellow cycle
tourer made a welcome break. He was on a heavily laden bike and seemed to carry
the whole shebang and the proverbial kitchen sink.
The big meal made lazy
cycling, and Ipoh lured me in. A guesthouse amidst colonial architecture and a
short walk from the magnificent old train station was a perfect choice.
The notebook finally gave
in, and mad at the darn thing, I bought a new one. I’m sure one could have had
it fixed but I lacked the patience for such things and couldn’t even come up
with an excuse to justify such an irresponsible spending spree. But that’s the
way I roll.
8 January - Ipoh –
Tapah – 58 km
An unbelievably spectacular
day with ornate cave temples led to Tapha and the Cameron Highlands turnoff. Even
though barely 60 kilometres away, all warned about a steep climb. Hence, I stayed
in Tapah to start the ascent in the morning.
9 January - Tapah –
Tanah Rata (Cameron Highlands) – 60 km
The ride to the Cameron
Highlands was a super stunning day. Albeit an uphill trek, nothing came from
the severe climb predicted, and I wasn’t convinced of the 1000-meter ascent. The
route twisted and turned through dense forests, past waterfalls and vast tea
plantations clinging to the mountainside.
From Ringlet to Tanah
Rata took the best part of an hour and a half and I barely made it before the
approaching storm. Nevertheless, a good day all in all.
10 January - Tanah
Rata
Nothing came of my intended
forest walk and nothing was done all day. However, Kang Lodge was comfortable
and reasonably priced, and a convenient place to kick back. The people from
tiny Tanah Rata were relaxed and pleasant. With its beautiful setting, the
village was the perfect place to hang about and do as little as possible. The residence
informed me a motorway indeed existed via Gua Musang to Taman Negara National Park.
Unfortunately, my map didn’t show any route and I didn’t know what to expect. Others
who had biked the way previously reported a lack of facilities and mentioned the
need for wild camping. With no stove in my possession, I stocked up with a loaf
of bread, cheese slices and a jar of peanut butter. Hahaha.
11 January - Tanah
Rata – Gua Musang – 130 km
With my loaf of bread,
peanut butter and biscuits, I left Tanah Rata. I soon found myself pedalling
along a lovely smooth, wide road with a roomy shoulder. It was hard to believe
such a substantial route wasn’t indicated on the map. Following a short climb came
a descent of almost 10 kilometres. Feeling reckless, I flew downhill at high
speed, panniers flapping in the breeze. The rest of the day was spent crawling
up hills at 6km/h and flying down at 50km/h.
The day turned out one of
magnificent vistas with dense forests lining both sides of the road. Logging was
alive and well at the time, and many trucks stacked with massive logs were
encountered. It’s entirely possible the forest won’t be there considerably
longer. Logging could be why the route wasn’t indicated on the map, or perhaps my
map was old.
The area wasn’t as wild
as predicted. Although there were a few potential wild campsites, the sun was
still high and I continued until reaching the small railway town of Gua Musang.
Gua Musang was a fair-sized town with hotels, shops, and markets. I was
somewhat disappointed at the lack of wilderness (as I’d my loaf of bread and
jar of peanut butter, hahaha), so I located accommodation and enjoyed a lovely
hot shower. Albeit pricey, the room came with a TV and even Wi-Fi - scarcely
the wilderness envisaged. This was, after all, well-organised and oil-rich Malaysia.
12 January - Gua
Musang – Kuala Lipis – 121 km
The next day, the route proceeded
further south past Pulai, an old gold mining area, and while not much wilderness
was left, a good few hills remained. It took pedalling like the clappers on the
descent to try and make it up the other side without having to gear right down,
but alas, it didn’t work. With a laden bike, one lost momentum encountering the
slightest incline. Anyone watching from afar must have thought, “What is that
woman on about?” At least no one could accuse me of not trying. The undulated
road continued until encountering the mother of all hills halfway to Kuala
Lipis. Within five kilometres, there were seven broken-down trucks, indicating
the gradient’s severity.
The road followed the National
Park’s boundary. The area was thus, densely forested, complete with monkeys and
small alligators or were they monitor lizards? With the area being a humid
rainforest, one sweated buckets slaving up the hills. Sadly, large sections of
the forest had been cleared to make way for the ever-growing rubber and palm
oil plantations.
Kuala Lipis, tucked away
in the corner of rainforest reserves and plantations, came at the right time as
my legs started feeling tired. A hotel in Kula Lipis provided air-con and a much
longed for shower. Then off to find roti canai (roti with dhal and potato
curry) or nasi goring (fried noodles), my two favourite dishes in Malaysia.
13 January - Kuala
Lipis – Jerantut – 61 km
My map was utterly useless,
and one could as well have dumped the silly thing. The distance between Kuala
Lipis and Jerantut looked a little shorter than the previous days, but
(thankfully) it turned out a mere 61 kilometres. Admittedly, the hills were
even steeper and more frequent than the earlier days, but at least the distance
was short, and a roadside stall provided my favourite snack of roti canai.
The comments and
questions at roadside stops remained unchanged: “You’re alone?” Generally asked
in amazement. “How old are you?” Even more amazement when you tell them.
Followed by “Where are you from?” usually followed by “But you aren’t black”. Truck
drivers often stopped to offer lifts and were astounded when their offer was
declined. This day was no different, and the truck driver assured me he was
going to Jerantut anyway and many hills were still to come. He couldn’t
understand why his offer was refused.
In the small village of Jerantut,
a popular starting
point for excursions into Taman Negara, and after a plate of nasi goring, I searched for info about Taman
Negara National Park.
14 January - Jerantut
– Kuala Tahan – 71 km
At first, the idea was to
leave the bicycle and panniers in Jerantut and take the river ferry to Kuala
Tahan, known as Taman Negara’s base camp. There, nevertheless, looked a good enough way leading to Kuala Tahan
and I did what I was used to. It’s far more convenient having all my stuff with
me instead of just taking a small daypack with essential items.
A further reason was to
get the opportunity to experience the forest first-hand. Still, the route turned
out disappointing as a great deal of the way was through palm oil plantations. The
way was, nevertheless, beautiful and closer to Kuala Tahan the real forest appeared.
The Taman Negara forest
is said over 130 million years old, and I was eager to investigate. Upon arrival,
a night walk into the woods was available but, once again, a little disappointing
as the trail was along a walkway and could barely be called a jungle. Africans
are spoiled as, in Africa, there are still many real wild places and wildlife. I
didn’t see anything I couldn’t have seen in my garden at night back home. Still,
the walk was lovely; one could hear the night sounds and smell the wet, damp forest.
15 January - Kuala
Tahan (Taman Negara National Park)
The three-day trek into
the inner jungle was tempting. But, following the many disappointments, I instead
filled my little daypack with peanut butter sandwiches (hee-hee-hee), water, and
a raincoat. I set off - map in hand to investigate the jungle on my own.
The touristy walkway led
me away from Kuala Tahan. Soon, I found myself alone, heading up the mountain
on a far less-travelled path. The forest was dead quiet with only the occasional
chirp of a cricket or the call of the colourful pheasants to remind me I wasn’t
all alone. Needless to say, the weather was sweltering and humid. Still, I continued
until the path reached the top, from where there were lovely views over the
surrounding forests.
The best part of the day
was spent wandering around the dense forest until time to head back, catch the
ferry across the river, and find food.
16 January - Kuala
Tahan (Taman Negara National Park)
Doing absolutely nothing
the entire day was terrific. The plan was to take the ferry back to Jerantut
instead of retracing my steps and, therefore, still experience the river trip.
The boat departed at 9 a.m. the next morning, saving backtracking the 70 kilometres
to Jerantut, something I always found a drag.
17 January - Kuala
Tahan (Taman Negara National Park) – Jerantut - By boat (+20km from the boat
jetty to town)
Following a breakfast of
Nasi Lemak, and together with other travellers, the boat headed back to
Jerantut. The boat trip was extremely picturesque through dense forest back to
Tembeling boat jetty. Once there, my fellow travellers helped get the bike and panniers
off the boat and up the stairs. Again, people were incredibly kind, and once
all was off-loaded, I resumed my ride to Jerantut.
Jerantut was an excellent
place to stock up with essentials, i.e. coffee, noodles and soup. Stinginess
made me buy the cheapest 3-in-1 coffee sachets available. Back in my room, and upon
closer inspection, the coffee turned out not coffee but tea! Have you ever
heard of such a thing? Instant tea? How much more instant can one get than a
tea bag? Well, there you had it, powdered tea with pre-added milk and sugar and
thought it sacrilege to drink instant tea so close to the Cameron Highlands,
well known for its excellent tea.
18 January - Jerantut
– Maran – 90 km
After a cup of instant
tea, the path headed due east, and what a fantastic day of riding it turned
out. The route came with stunning views, hardly any traffic, and perfect
weather.
I must have looked or
smelled really unpleasant, as even the village dogs took to their heels. They ran
for their lives, never looking back until safely behind the gates of their homes.
A relatively short ride led
to Maran and the famous Sri Marathandavar Aalayam Hindu Temple. It’s said the
name of the temple literally means “crossing the tree”. The tree mentioned in
the name refers to a sacred Rudraksha tree. The Rudraksha seed is traditionally
used as prayer beads in Hinduism and is associated with Lord Shiva’s eye. The
bead is often used as a holy talisman, as it’s believed the seed can transform
negative energy into positive energy. Rudraksha beads are also seen being worn by
the yogis in India.
I learned that 120 years
ago, a road was built from Kuala Lumpur to Kuantan, and in the process, many
trees were felled. As this particular tree was being cut, the tree began to
bleed, as if wounded. Legend has it, many workers saw the bleeding and one
worker went into a trance. The workers asked the supervisor to spare the tree,
but the British supervisor refused. Then, a child suddenly appeared upon the
trunk of the tree and miraculously disappeared into the tree. The supervisor was
dumbfounded (as can be imagined) and agreed the tree be spared.
Afterwards, the tree
became sacred, and albeit now dead, remains of the original tree are preserved
in the temple.
Threatening clouds made
me opt for accommodation in Maran, with a lovely view of the golf course. Nothing
came of the threatening clouds, but it was still an excellent excuse to spend such
a considerable amount of money on accommodation. At least a cheap roti shop
around the corner provided enough to gorge myself.
19 January - Maran –
Pekan - 110 km
Wildlife photographers
must indeed have Job’s patience. After trying to take a few pictures of the
birdlife on the golf course, I gave up and instead stuck to cycling.
The lush vegetation
continued and came with plenty of wildlife, monkeys, ducks and birds. There
were even a few resorts, all looking lovely with wooden chalets, and a few offered
camping.
Malaysia was such a
multicultural country - the day prior was a distinctly Indian day with many
Hindu temples and Indian food. However, this day was more Chinese with Chinese
temples and food. One could hardly ride past the steamed buns without bagging a
few.
Upon reaching the east
coast, Pekan was a convenient place to find accommodation. Unfortunately, the
map didn’t indicate any other facilities nearby. But then the map was useless, and
it didn’t mean there wasn’t any. Besides, Pekan was lovely, had a beautiful
central square, and it was the place the Sungai Pahang, the longest river in
Peninsular Malaysia flowed into the South China Sea.
20 January - Pekan –
Rompin - 117 km
The road hugged the coast
and, from time to time, ran flush next to the ocean, and at other times headed
inland through the forest. Again, it felt like only the many troops of monkeys
and me in the wet and watery jungle.
A turnoff to beaches revealed
a fantastic Beach and Golf Resort but a little too pricey and better to
continue to Rompin, which had significantly more affordable accommodation. A
lack of food left me starving and sent me rushing to the market. I imagined devourer
the spices and came away with more food than any human could eat in a day, let
alone supper.
21 January 2010 -
Rompin – Mersing - 62 km
My slow and leisurely
start was due to the short distance to Mersing. I was convinced my roadside
lunch contained meat, but unable to speak Malay, I never knew what ingredients
were in the food.
The coastal town of Mersing
was the jumping-off point for ferries to Tioman. Being too late to catch the
last boat I opted for a room at the Hotel Embassy. A short walk led to the
ornate Hindu temple Sri Subramaniam. Once done looking around at the temple, I
strolled back to the ferry office to purchase a ticket for the next day.
22-24 January -
Mersing – Tioman Island – By ferry
The ferry didn’t depart until
11h30, and after paying a further RM10 for the bike, we sped across the ocean
at full throttle. In less than two hours, we arrived at the idyllic tropical
island of Tioman. The ferry stopped at various locations, but I disembarked at Tekek,
the largest village. In no time, I uncovered a bungalow right at the water’s
edge and sat watching the waves roll in, right to my doorstep. Being out of season,
one could negotiate a reasonable rate. The island was quiet with few visitors
and, therefore, simply me, the beach and my hammock, absolutely glorious.
Staying one more day while
doing as little as possible, except sipping a tax-free beer and watching the
ocean came easy. By the 24th I got off my backside and walked (with
Niklas and Benedikte met upon the ferry) over the mountain to the other side of
the island where we’d lunch. The walk was lovely through dense forests and past
high waterfalls - even spotting a few monkeys.
25 January - Tioman
Island – Mersing (return ferry trip)
Three days later, time came
to leave paradise and return to business. The ferry was to depart at 11h00, but
it turned out considerably later when we finally departed.
Arriving at Mersing,
Ernest was at the boat terminal, claiming it was a pure coincidence. Looking a tad
worse for wear following a month of travelling around Malaysia without money, I
took pity upon him. He was invited to share my digs where he could shower, do
laundry, and sleep on a bed. He scored plenty of food, a new saddle, as well as
a rear tyre for his bike, as he had been cycling with a tyre sewn up with
fishing line the past four days. I’ve always been a sucker for a sad story.
26 January – Mersing
The previous day, I’d noticed
Ernest’s feet and ankles were unusually swollen. Perhaps from malnutrition, as
he claimed he’d been living off rice the past few weeks. This morning, I
thought it could be Elephantiasis, and his condition worsened as the day
progressed. He was fed a good dose of multi-vitamins and all the food he could
eat.
The next day too was
spent in Mersing, allowing Ernest to pay attention to his bicycle and health. In
the meantime, I bought myself a new saddle, as the old one had seen better days
- hoping this one wouldn’t be a pain in the butt.
27 January - Mersing –
Kota Tinggi – 95 km
Ernest’s legs seemed a
great deal better, the swelling had gone down, and he looked practically normal.
I was back to playing the waiting game as Ernest was notoriously slow in the
mornings. From Mersing, an undulating route headed south towards Singapore past
palm oil plantations, with a few interesting bits and pieces. The rain made
taking cover a few times, a perfect excuse to have a sweet cup of tea from a
roadside stall.
Albeit my new saddle was
reasonably comfortable, my backside became sore. In Kota Tinggi, a 32-ringette
room provided air-con and hot water. Utterly ravenous, due to a lack of breakfast,
we rush to the mobile food carts. Being a Chinese community, there were plenty
of Chinese rice buns and Chinese food, always delicious and a highly likely place
to find vegetarian food.
28 January - Kota
Tinggi – Kampong Rengit – 84 km
Ernest was only ready at
11 o’clock, which made me wonder if riding together was worth the frustration
and the expense. A few times the rain came down so hard it forced us to find
shelter at the bus and taxi stands - at least the road was in excellent
condition. In the process of looking for a camping spot, we found ourselves in
the seaside village of Rengit, where I opted for a room. Rengit was situated at
the south-eastern point of Malaysia, close to Singapore. The plan was to go there
n the morning. Everything in Malaysia looks oversized, including the bananas
(called pisang), ants and cockroaches.
SINGAPORE
29 January – 31
January 2010
29 January – Rengit,
Malaysia – Singapore – 55 km
A short 17-kilometre cycle
with great views ran along the South China Sea and led to the ferry port where the
regular ferry didn’t take bicycles. The only other option was to wait until the
“Bum-Boat” arrived. The “Bum-Boat” departed when 12 passengers (or bums) were aboard
– but it was far cheaper than the regular ferry. The slow boat took practically
an hour to cross the straits of Johor, and we, technically reached Singapore
before departing Malaysia. All that was required for a 30-day stay in Singapore
was a stamp in the passport.
From the ferry port to
the city centre, a scenic cycle path ran through parklands and past great
camping spots along the coast. Unfortunately, upon enquiring, I discovered the
facilities were for Singaporeans only. En route to the city centre, a wrong
turn took us onto an expressway and through a tunnel under the city. The
traffic police quickly spotted the mistake and loaded us up and took us a good
distance away from the forbidden route. In Singapore, the many rules are
strictly enforced, and we were lucky not to get fined.
With all the shunting
back and forth we had no idea how to find the suburb of Little India but
managed in the end. Gosh, how costly things were. The search to find a budget
room revealed nothing, and by 20h00, we settled for the least expensive of the
bunch. Starving, the Indian restaurant downstairs was the perfect place and
suddenly price didn’t matter.
30 January – Singapore
The day was spent investigating
the city, but the Singapore dollar was too strong to buy anything. Even electronic
goods weren’t as well priced as anticipated. I suspected one could find identical
items for less in Malaysia. The city was large, modern, and clinically clean. To
such an extent, I considered the city rather soulless, just one more big bustling
city with a big harbour, busy airport, flashy shopping malls and congested boulevards.
High-rise buildings dominated the skyline, and even Little India seemed far too
organised.
The Singaporeans were
busy people who rushed with all the electronic devices one could imagine, stuck
to their ears. There was no shortage of designer stores and fancy eateries we’d
no use. Around nearly every corner, one could find McDonald’s, KFC and
7-Eleven. The name “Little America” wouldn’t have been inappropriate for the
city.
I felt Singapore was
overrated and way too costly, and time to get out in a hurry, i.e. the next
day, making our visit the shortest time I’ve spent in any country. On the other
hand, Singapore wasn’t so much a country as a vast city and, in fact, it may be
more correct to say Singapore was the smallest country I’ve cycled. Everyone
must decide for themselves, and my views of a place or state often had plenty to
do with my moods, the weather or company. Upon a second visit, the impressions could
be precisely the opposite of what one had experienced the last time.
31 January - Singapore
– Pontian Kecil - 103 km
Following an expensive two-day
excursion to Singapore, we beat a hasty retreat to Malaysia, through the
suburbs, and to the north of the island. With being Sunday morning, many
cyclists were out. All wanted to have a chat on the move – one guy even thought
we could ride the 250-plus kilometres to Melaka that day. Perhaps he
overestimated his pace, or, more likely, he’s never been to Melaka by mountain
bike carrying 45 kilograms and, at the same time, enjoying the countryside.
The border crossing
between Singapore and Malaysia was the largest, most sophisticated, and busiest
immigration checkpoint.
Once cleared out of
Singapore, a quick stamp in our passports allowed us into Malaysia, from where
the road headed north through the ever-growing city of Johor Bahru. The route
led along the Straits of Johor and continued along the west coast of Malaysia. Towards
the end of the day our ride finished at the seaside town of Pontian Kecil, which
made an excellent place to bunk down.
1 February - Pontian
Kecil - Batu Pahat – 81 km
The route between Pontian
Kecil and Batu Pahat turned into one more extraordinary day. Penny and Keng,
two Malaysians we met in Iran nearly two years previously, drove south to see
if they could find us and then treated us to lunch.
Reaching Batu Pahat, we
were escorted to Penny’s sister’s unoccupied but fully furnished apartment. The
condo was a luxury one with mod cons, a soft bed, and a hot shower, making me
feel like Malaysia’s queen. By evening, the family treated us to a “steamboat”,
where one could sit around a steaming pot of soup each cooking their own food.
This was very much like fondue, but instead of cheese or oil, soup and incredibly
delicious.
2-3 February - Batu
Pahat
Penny and Keng’s
generosity had no end. They fed and drove us to the bicycle shop and temple. Still,
in no time, it was dinner time, and we ate and drank again.
One more day was spent in
Batu Pahat, predominantly lying on the sofa (with full bellies), while watching
movies - not done in the past three years.
4 February - Batu
Pahat – Melaka - 108 km
The fun part was Penny
decided to join the ride to Melaka and arrived early morning with her
brother-in-law’s bike. We set off at leisure, and luckily the route was flat.
Still, it was an incredibly long way for a non-cyclist. Penny hung in and pedalled
all 108 kilometres to Melaka. She became officially known as the Iron Lady. Keng
(at flying school in Melaka) rode out to Muar to meet us using a strange-looking
bike he borrowed from a friend.
Once in Melaka, Penny was
tired and terribly sunburned, but still in high spirit. Keng, who knew the
place like the back of his hand, took us to an Indian restaurant that served
some of the most delicious Indian food outside India. Thanks, Keng.
5 February – Malacca
The following day was
spent exploring picturesque Melaka and discovering a few of the historic sites.
Melaka had a blend of Portuguese, Dutch and Chinese architecture. The town was even
more colourful than usual as it was nearing Chinese New Year. People were frantically
busy preparing for the festivities. Houses were being scrubbed cleaned and new
decorations installed. Streets and shops were adorned with red Chinese
lanterns, dragons and lion heads. Shops were stocked with exotic foodstuff, as
food is very much at the centre of Chinese New Year celebrations.
6 February - Melaka –
Port Dickson - 84 km
The time had come to saddle
up and leave our friends and luxury life behind. The best part of the day was spent
pedalling along the coast. Shortly before Port Dickson, a camping area made a convenient
overnight stay. Being upon the beach with plenty of trees, a toilet, a shower,
and free, one couldn’t do much better.
This euphoria didn’t last
long and while pitching the tent, I must have stood on a fire-ant nest. Then, realising
what was happening, I’d hundreds of ants crawling up my legs. The palms of my
hands and underarms immediately started burning as if on fire. I did the
equivalent of a poor breakdance while sweating profusely and at the same time
having cold shivers—what a scary experience. Mercifully, Ernest still had
antihistamine tablets and an hour or so later the itching and burning subsided.
7 February - Port
Dickson – Banting - 109 km
Ernest farted around
until 11h00, causing a short day of riding past plenty of fishing hamlets. Once
or twice, the rain came down so hard we’d to wait out the weather, making a late
arrival in Banting. Drenched, the first budget lodging had to do, only to find the
place infested with bedbugs!
8 February - Banting –
Kuala Lumpur - 67 km
I expected a battle
through horrendous traffic into Kuala Lumpur. The ride nonetheless turned out shorter
than envisaged and came with a dedicated bicycle/motorcycle path leading right
into the city centre. The route followed the freeway and came complete with
road signs—what a pleasure.
China Town was the most
likely place to find budget accommodation, and it didn’t take long to locate a
place without bedbugs or ants.
9-10 February - Kuala
Lumpur
Visiting Kuala Lumpur wasn’t
purely to explore the capital but to apply for a visa to Indonesia. The next
morning the embassy was reached by using the KL Monorail. Regrettably, I was merely
given a one-month visa instead of the two envisaged, apparently, one could
extend the visa once there. The visa was costly at RM170, but at least quick,
and one could pick it up the same day. Unfortunately, Ernest couldn’t enter the
embassy, as he was wearing disrespectful shorts. Indonesia was a conservative
Muslim country and he had to return the following day in more appropriate
attire.
11 February - Kuala
Lumpur – Port Dickson – 95 km
With Indonesian visas
stamped in our passports, we were keen to head back to Melaka, where ferries departed
to Indonesia. A comfortable cycle brought us to our former campsite outside
Port Dickson. As previously, we set up camp under the trees beside the beach. This
time, taking care where the tent was pitched, as my experience with the fire-ants
from a few days earlier was still a vivid memory.
I was content sitting and
watching the sunset over the Straits of Malacca. With the weather sweltering
even past sunset my tent felt like a sauna. Shortly after lying down, a damp
spray was felt and assumed it had started raining but, to my horror, discovered
the camp’s tomcat had sprayed through the door netting onto my head. I didn’t
think it funny.
12-14 February - Port
Dickson – Melaka – 82 km
Eighthly two kilometres
of biking brought us to Malacca early, a good thing, as the weather became increasingly
hot. But, thank goodness, the dorm at the Sama-Sama annexe was well ventilated
and spacious and came complete with mosquito nets.
The following day was the
first day of Chinese New Year, an especially colourful day with thousands of
red lanterns decorating the streets and houses. The narrow pedestrian lanes
were crammed with people and stalls and firecrackers went off until late at
night. By then, curry laksa (a curry noodle soup) was discovered, which
remained a favourite of mine until this day.
15 February – Malacca,
Malaysia – Dumai, Indonesia - By ferry
Melaka was slow to wake
from the Chinese New Year celebrations. No one was sure if the ferry to
Indonesia was running. Time to move on, however, and a short ride brought us to
the ferry jetty. Local advice informed us to take the second ferry as the first
one was usually choc-and-block full, whilst the second one was often half
empty. The ferry ride took almost two and a half hours and, voila, there we
were in a new country – Sumatra Island, Indonesia.
