Posts Tagged: Malaysia
Thursday 10 and Friday 11 January 2013 – Teluk Nipah, Pulau Pangkor, Malaysia
Next destination – Pulau Pangkor
I have loved the Cameron Highlands and would have liked to stay there longer, but I’m meeting my good friend Miriam in KL on Sunday and would like to get an island in before I meet her. The east coast is a no go at the moment as it is rainy season and, according to most people I have spoken to, it is really, really wet and will be for a while. There are a number of islands on the west coast but the closest of those is Pangkor.
I was up early to get the bus at 11am from Tanah Rata bus station, when Tomas the Argentinian (who you should definitely know by now) decided he would be coming with me. Very pleased to have some companionship along the way, we set off towards the station; me with my 65L backpack (quite small in comparison to some) and Tomas with his back pack containing a spare t-shirt, some underwear and his passport.
After a quick stop in the post office, we bought the RM20 ticket for the 2 hour journey north-west to Ipoh and boarded the comfortable, air-conditioned bus. Once in Ipoh, after a quick stop for food, we bought the RM7 ticket for the 2 hour journey south-west to Lumut and boarded the dirty, sweaty tin can.
Once in Lumut, we had a 45 minute ferry to Pangkor Town and a 10 minute ride in a pink minibus (the only taxi service on the island) to Teluk Nipah, where all the backpacker accommodation is. We had a bit of a search for somewhere to stay but finally found a couple of beds in the Nazri Nipah Camp in a 5 bed dorm, a great little hostel close to the beach with a nice communal area with lots of benches and hammocks (one of which I am writing this from now!)
Pulau Pangkor (which I am sure will be renamed ‘Pulau Manchester United’ at some point in the future) is exactly what I was expecting. Fishing boats everywhere, beaches which are practically on the edge of the jungle and nothing but sand, sea and trees all around. Very picturesque. We have two beaches nearby; the small Teluk Nipah beach a 2-3 minute walk from the hostel and the much bigger and more beautiful Coral Beach (the coral being conspicuous by its absence) which includes a psychedelic Hindu temple at the end with human sized Donald Duck and Danger Mouse at the entrance. The Manchester United influence is everywhere. You can get a Man Utd burger from a man with a Man Utd t-shirt, all the 13 year olds driving scooters have Man Utd hats on, the pink minibuses are adorned with Man Utd stickers and the hostel has Man Utd flags hanging on the walls.
After checking into our camp the sun was fading and was already obscured by the nearby private resort island, so we hurried down to the beach to shake off the last of our hangovers before it got dark. The sea is beautiful; nice and warm, like a bath at some points, and not too salty. After a quick dip we went on search of a beer.
It was about 6:30pm and Teluk Nipah was dead. Most shops and restaurants seemed closed or empty. We asked in a few places if they did beer and we were given confused stares.
“Oh God! We’ve come to an island that doesn’t serve alcohol! When’s the next ferry back to the mainland!?”
It turns out that none of the restaurants sell alcohol, but there is a Pasar Mini supermarket that sells a few different beers at slightly inflated prices and the restaurants allow you to take beer in. We started out with a large bottle of Tiger each and went to a nearby seafood restaurant for prawns, squid, mixed vegetables and rice. The seafood here is beautiful and all freshly caught, reminiscent of recent trip to Spain with Amy and family.
We sat down on the end of a table already occupied by some Canadians sporting some lovely oozy wounds on their arms and legs. Turns out they had rented a scooter that day and taken a fall on the first corner they attempted due to going far too fast (their original explanation of being attacked by a monkey causing them to fall off the bike was quickly dismissed). Maybe we won’t be getting scooters tomorrow then!
Once we finished our food we grabbed another couple of beers from the supermarket, this time the 12.5% Marten’s Premium Belgian lager (you have to use your cash efficiently whilst travelling – more units for your money!) and sat on the beach with the Canadians. We were soon joined by Ed and Katie, a British couple from London we had met on the ferry (Ed is a London-based surveyor – the second Brit I meet and he does the same job in the same city as me; what are the chances!?) and we all got some more 12.5% beers. Soon we were all pretty drunk and swimming in the sea.
Tomas and I made our way back to the hostel (taking some lovely photos of the two of us on Tomas’ iPod on the way back) leaving our flip flops on the beach, as we discovered in the morning. Once back at the hostel, it seemed that a number of others had been drinking the 12.5% lager too and we all decided to get up at 8am to go on a jungle trek!
PICTURE TO FOLLOW
We woke up at 11:30am and went to lie on the beach for the day. What was that about a jungle trek? We lounged about, reading and snoozing in hammocks. I had run out of money so had to hitchhike to Pangkor Town to get some cash out from the islands only ATM and buy some replacement flip flops, we also swam out to a jetty off Coral Beach and sat there burning for half an hour, but that concluded the day’s efforts.
We are going to do some more discovering tomorrow, probably by bicycle, to see the islands temples and Dutch fortress and to find some other beaches and maybe blag our way into a private luxury resort beach. After that, Tomas will head north to Penang and I will head south back to KL to meet Miriam before we fly to Borneo.
Exciting times ahead, but maybe a little more relaxing on a beach in a hammock first.
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Wednesday 9 January 2013 – Tanah Rata, Cameron Highlands, Malaysia
DISCLAIMER: NOTHING ACTUALLY HAPPENS TODAY BUT I WILL TRY AND MAKE IT SOUND LIKE IT WAS EXCITING
Following a late night discussing films, where I managed to gain a fair amount of respect until I confessed that I hadn’t seen a single Lord of The Rings or Terminator film, everyone rose quite late (except for me of course who woke up in time ‘for work’ at 6:30am – great!). This meant that by the time we got down to the breakfast cafe, the noodles were cold. Not ones to complain about any meal that costs less than £1, we got on with it. This did however bring to light a flavour none of us had noticed the previous day. Fish.
To clarify, 75p for cold fish noodles for breakfast. Yum!
I then made my way down to the town to get a bag for my valuables (money, passport etc) for which I had so far been lugging round my entire day sack wherever I went. It is a nice leathery man bag worn round the shoulder. Not at all camp. In fact, I’m feeling a new sense of masculinity since I’ve been wearing it and I’m considering keeping hold of it for when I’m back to carry round my tissues, lip balm, loose change and pain killers in. It cost RM22 which is about £4.50 – bargain – of course, it promptly broke as soon as I started using it.
I also bought a spoon, tub of crunchy peanut butter and loaf of bread. I have no idea why none of the guides and online forums I had read had not suggested this. It is a travelling essential. The things you can make with this kit is literally endless. Peanut butter on bread, peanut butter folded sandwich, peanut butter 2-slice sandwich, peanut butter double decker sandwich, peanut butter on toast (toaster or other heat source required), neat peanut butter off a spoon…
Like I said; Endless.
We spent the rest of the morning reading, chatting, doing card tricks and generally attempting to fill the time until it was acceptable to go for lunch, i.e. midday.
I was still on a bit of a high from the cold fish noodles I had for breakfast (YES – COLD FISH NOODLES FOR BREAKFAST!!), so went all out at lunch time. I ordered Budung, a spicy fish noodle soup (I asked if I could have it cold but they said that they would only serve it hot and I would just have to wait for it to go cold) which was really tasty and the perfect spiciness to it, and seafood fried rice. Both, of course, were served with a fried egg – I’ve probably had about 15 fried eggs since I arrived 4 days ago, as they serve it with everything here! This was the most adventurous thing I’d eaten so far and I loved it.
We bought a tub of ice cream for desert, and took it back to the hostel to eat there. (Peanut butter and ice cream can be added to the list above.)
Following our conversation the night before, we had decided we were going to watch Trainspotting. Most of us had seen it except for Mitch, a Canadian (previously described as a Yank – sorry, Mitch!) with family in Glasgow, and Jasmine, who, although her English is excellent, was no doubt going to struggle.
Mitch loved it and is now convinced that everyone from Scotland is more or less the same as the characters in the film, i.e. cheating, stealing, violent junk addicts, and has therefore lost any desire to go there. Jasmine seemed to get along pretty well considering most people who’s first language is English struggle, only asking for clarification a couple of times.
One thing that a lot of people have asked Paul and I is what the dynamic of the UK is. Do we all get along? Is there a big rivalry? Things like that. I have generally answered that most of the English population (although this is probably skewed by my own opinion) like being a part of the UK and having Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland as our brother nations. In sport, we will generally support the home side, particularly when against any body outside of our own hemisphere. However, the Welsh, Scots and Northern Irish hate us and normally support ‘whoever England are playing’! Anyway, the reason I mention this is because there is a great scene in Trainspotting where they go for a walk through a field near a mountain (Ben Nevis maybe?) and Renton has a rant about what it’s like to be Scottish, describing the English as “wankers*” and saying how depressing it is that Scotland is so “shite**” that they can’t even find a decent country to occupy it. It served as the perfect back up to how I had described the relationship.
* Sorry again Grandad, but that one was necessary. It won’t happen again.
** Okay, it happened again, but it was necessary again. It’s in quotation marks so you know it’s not me saying it. Sorry.
After the film, we all went back out on to the veranda and discussed dinner, dessert and, again, the possibility of going to the karaoke cafe (we didn’t go the previous night). While we discussed our options, Corbin (Yank 1) played his acoustic and we chatted about music.
Before long, the guitar had taken over. Both Corbin and Jake (Yank 2) are great guitarists and can both sing well too. Both of them are into folk and punk and not a lot else, so the catalogue of well known songs was small. But Corbin played a couple of folk songs and got a round of applause from everyone on the veranda and two cans of 7Up from the hostel owner for his efforts. Then Jake played a few and got a round of applause too, but no 7Up (to be fair, Corbin was better). He did introduce us to a folk / country artist called John Prine though;
We sang quite a bit of Johnny Cash, Rolling Stones and, Jake’s fan favourite I Will Survive and by 10:30pm a large crowd had gathered to join in, but the lights got switched off and we were encouraged to go round the corner to the Jungle Bar, which is part of the hostel but away from the bedrooms. The guitar went away for a while but was soon back out again to finish off with Tom Petty Freefallin’ before we were politely asked to shut the hell up.
At this point, Tomas the Argentinian (who you will remember from a previous post if you have been paying attention) suggested that if the guitar was going away we would have to sing A Capella. Unfortunately, nobody knew that one so we just decided to sing without any music.
An anonymous voice on another table began “is this the real life, is this just fantasy…” which, of course, caught on straight away. I haven’t been in a group that big before when everybody has simultaneously exploded into head moshing, a la Wayne’s World. It was quite something.
By this point, the bar guy really was getting upset so we decided to finish up. I had decided to move on the next day to an island on the West coast, about 4 hours away, called Pulau Pangkor (or “Pulau Peter Pangkor Blimey” as I have to say in my head, as my memory for all these place names is so terrible), so I said goodbye to everyone and went to bed.
Everyone else is leaving tomorrow too. Paul is going to KL to meet his cousin, Corbin, Jake and Mitch are heading south to a volunteer project on a floating rice plantation (or something) and Jasmine is heading north to Tanzai (sp?) Beach in Thailand. I’m hoping I might be able to meet up with the American / Canadian boys in KL in a few days.
I can’t believe how much I’ve just written about a day when nothing happened. Tomorrow should be exciting, as, for the first time, I am going somewhere without booking accommodation before I get there. I’m just such a risk taker these days.
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Tuesday 8 January 2012 – Brinchang, Cameron Highlands, Malaysia
The best way to see the sights of the Cameron Highlands is to take one of the many jungle trails up to the peaks and look down from there. Whilst some of them are accessible from Tanah Rata, some are only accessible from Brinchang, about 5km from TR.
We assembled our team over a 75p breakfast of spicy noodles, vegetables, fried eggs and coffee and set off towards the bus station. Alongside me was Paul, the 6ft7in lad from Crawley, a German girl called Jasmine, two Americans who worked together last year at Yosemite Park in California and a Canadian rock climber. We boarded the bus, to the tune of Rod Stewart “First Cut is the Deepest” on the radio, and paid our RM2 each for the journey a bit further up the mountain.
Once in Brinchang and, after some wandering around, found the start of jungle trail 1. I’ll be honest with you, it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. When I heard the word ‘trail’ I had assumed that there would be at least some horizontal paths. I assumed incorrectly. This was a clamber, from base to peak, using the root systems, rocks and trees to haul yourself up each step. It was at this point I realised that I had probably overpacked my backpack!
After 2 hours of sweating, swearing, panting, slipping, sinking, clambering and, to be fair, some consistently enjoyable chat, we reached the peak. There were viewing points and a tower to climb to get a 360° vista. The views were incredible.
After a good rest we began the long slog back to Brinchang down a windy road which passed the Strawberry fields. By this point, I had given up on the idea of maybe seeing the tea plantations – that would have to come tomorrow.
Then, as we rounded a corner and reached the brow of a hill, there they were…
…and they looked even more incredible than I thought they would have. Wow!
We hitch-hiked back to Tanah Rata (Malaysian truck drivers are more than willing to let 6 western kids jump in the back!) and had dinner in the town (curry off a banana leaf again).
We’re just deciding now whether to chill on the veranda or get down to the ‘Karaoke Cafe’ for the evening. After today, I’ll be happy either way.
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Monday 7 January 2013 – Tanah Rata, Cameron Highlands, Malaysia
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.
