The jet lag caught up with me yesterday on Corona number 2 at KL’s Reggae Bar during chapter 3 of Jack Kerouac’s ‘On The Road’; although it could have been more down to the shock in finding out that a bottle of Corona in KL costs RM15, about £3, more than I had paid for the first two meals I ate in put together. The waiter kindly woke me up with presentation of the bill and a gentle nudge. I sauntered back to Raizzy’s in Chinatown, showered and hit the hay.

Luckily, I had already sorted out a plan for today. A 4-hour minibus ride to Tanah Rata in the Cameron Highlands and a 3 night stay at Kang’s Traveller’s Lodge, a hostel recommended by the Lonely Planet guide, yet proudly sporting a “FUCK* THE LONELY PLANET” sign on the wall in reception.

*sorry about that Grandad, won’t happen again.

The Cameron Highlands is a vast hill station that was colonised by the British in the late 1800s, named after Sir William Cameron, a British Surveyor who was sent to map the area at the time. They say that the Brits loved it here (until the Japanese invaded in WW2) as it was a great retreat from the heat and humidity of the cities below, and you can really see why.

The weather up here is beautiful. The temperature dips slightly in the evening but its 11pm now and the same temperature as it was at 6pm.

The journey from KL was great fun. Me and a Pakistani couple from Dubai with 18 month old son were the only passengers. We got along well and chatted for most of the way (topics of conversation included Sharia Law in Dubai, the British education system and Facebook) until the windy, mountainous roads begin and I had to take a nap to avoid the travel sickness.

The minibus driver woke me up at a wooden shack surrounded by trees, and I said goodbye to my travelling companions. I checked in, paid my RM45 (about £9) for a bed in a dorm for 3 nights, and went inside to find my room.

I say ‘room’… I don’t know what the dictionary definition of a room is, but I’m pretty sure a door is quite important, something to separate it from the corridor, right? Although, saying that, there were beds in the corridor too… Anyway, I think that we can all agree that the layout of this building (probably not even strictly a ‘building’) was pretty unorthodox.

In short, it’s exactly what I was hoping for.

I relieved myself of my backpack and went out to get some food and have a look around.

Once my stomach was fed and my curiosity satisfied, I headed back to the hostel for a beer on the veranda. When signing into the hostel earlier, I had noticed another Brit called Paul had signed in the day before. Luckily, I sat straight next to him on the veranda and we got chatting. He introduced me to some German girls he’d been chatting with, and in turn some American guys (with a guitar) that they’d met in Thailand a few weeks back. We sat around chatting until the evening chill set in and we agreed to go for dinner.

We strolled down to the town chatting, ate South Indian mutton curry out of banana leaves (a great way to eat curry) and discussed the difference between American and British sports, helped by a South African on another table when we got to cricket (who, on sight, successfully deduced that Paul was a fast bowling cricketer).

Back to chill on the veranda, with the addition of Tomas the Argentinian and later a Swedish couple, a large can of Chang premium beer for RM7.50 (£1.60) and some background music from the yanks, who had an acoustic guitar with them, until lights out. Night.

I think I’m gonna love it here.

P.S. There’s cats.

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