MALAYSIA (2)3
205 Kilometres - 66 Days8
June – 11 September 2015
8 June - Hat Yai, Thailand – Alor Setar, Malaysia - 105 km
An
easy cycle of approximately fifty-five kilometres led to the Thailand-Malaysia
border, where the crossing into Malaysia was effortless. If only all border
crossings were equally smooth. Not only was the entry effortless, but one
automatically got given a ninety-day stay. Sixty kilometres down the drag was
Alor Setar, gateway to Langkawi; I wasn’t going to Langkawi but only wanted to
find a place to sleep.
No
country is perfect, but a few are closer to paradise than others. With the food
in Malaysia being a good mix of Malay, Chinese and Indian, I was in my element
and placed it close to the top of the paradise list. Unknowingly, the
guesthouse was right next to the night market and was spoilt for choice. I
scoffed down more than one Roti canai as they were a mere RM1 each.
9
June - Alor Setar – Penang – 100 km
The
way to Butterworth made relax riding past rice paddies, temples and mosques.
From Butterworth, ferries took pedestrians, cars and motorbikes, to the island
of Penang and a few minutes later, we docked in famous Georgetown. I uncovered
a crappy but inexpensive abode, which came with an air-con and window
(considered a bargain). The guidebook mentioned Penang was known as the ‘Pearl
of the Orient’ and the island conjured up romantic images of rickshas pedalling
past Chinese shophouses. They weren’t far wrong. Georgetown was further known
for its street food. Vendors sold Malay, Indian and Chinese cuisine and
numerous stands lined the narrow lanes. Starving, I headed straight to the
nearest food cart to grab my daily plate of Nasi Goreng.
10
June - Georgetown, Penang
Although
Georgetown’s centre is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, it remains a working town
with Chinese shophouses where people went about their daily living. Rickshas
pedalled tourists around the maze of chaotic streets and narrow lanes, past
British Raj-era architecture, strings of paper lanterns and retro-chic pubs,
boutiques and cafes. I set out in search of the famous street art, camera in
hand, and my efforts were well rewarded. Street art was dotted all over town,
and it took the best part of the day locating them.
11
June - Georgetown, Penang
I
wasn’t entirely done with all I wanted to see and stayed one more day. I
explored more narrow lanes and saw more street art and other exciting sights
right in the heart of the old town. My meander led, past the joss stick maker,
the goldsmith, the garland makers and the food vendors. Through Little India
and Little China and past the old clan jetties, before returning to my abode in
Love Lane.
12
June - Georgetown – Taman Damai – 55 km
Not
in the mood for cycling but not for staying either, I dragged my heels and hence
late when I boarded the ferry to the mainland. No sooner was I underway, than
rain came pelting down. In Southeast Asia, the rain came down in droves and
motorcycles and scooters usually pulled off in these conditions. Special places
are made for this exact purpose and I followed suit and waited until the worse
passed. Barely a few kilometres further, the heavens opened once more. What can
a woman do but find digs, sit on the porch and watch the weather while drinking
a tall Tiger.
13
June - Taman Damai – Taiping - 44 km
14
June - Taiping – Lumut - 95 km
Breakfast
was from McDonald’s after which a 95 kilometres ride took me to Lumut, the departure
point to Pulau Pangkor. The rain stayed away, and the previous night’s rainfall
brought cooler weather. The temperature was around 30°C, and although
incredibly humid, biking remained a pleasure. Lumut took me by surprise as it looked
good enough to spend a night instead of getting directly onto the ferry to
Pangkor Island.
15
June – Lumut
Off
to the Mall, I went. With the shopping done, I bought a photography magazine,
drank coffee at Starbucks, and felt nearly like an ordinary person. Although,
purchasing the magazine was maybe not the best idea as then, I wanted a new
lens. Anyhow, en route to my abode, I stopped at the Mangrove Park to snap a
few pics of the monkeys. While doing so, the buggers stole my water bottle off
my bike—bloody hell, and to think the bottle was tightly wedged into its cage!
I guess they’ve done this before.
16
June - Lumut
With
no word of the new passport, I assumed it best to remain in Malaysia as Malaysia
was one of the few countries allowing a ninety-day stay. After which all one
had to do was cross the border into Singapore and upon returning you were given
three more months. Malaysia wasn’t overly expensive, and Lumut was an excellent
place to lay low. I was further running out of money and needed to think about making
a bit of extra cash.
The
only idea which came to mind was to make a few photo books. I thus needed to
stay put - a whole new experience. Although not part of the plan, Lumut was the
perfect place to do so. I was happy in the tropics, and there was nowhere else I
would rather wait until the passport arrived.
Lumut
suited me fine, as the village was situated along the ocean, and close enough
to the larger town of Seri Manjung. Being the departure point to touristy
Pangkor Island, Lumut sported various restaurants and bars. I searched for a
place to rent and discovered a surprisingly large amount available in such a
small village. I splashed out and got myself a lovely studio apartment with a
small balcony. The condo was quite substantial for a studio, and the complex came
with a huge pool which I’d all to myself as being Ramadan; things were relatively
quiet. The staff was accommodating and brought me a little table and chairs for
the balcony. They did my laundry and even offered me one of their laptops,
which had a big screen.
17–24
June - Lumut
My
new routine included going for a walk/run/shuffle/jog, followed by a swim. Nevertheless,
a few things were needed, including running shoes and swimming goggles. However,
dead set on becoming running fit, changing from cycling to running took more
work than envisaged. Whether I’d the patience to persevere with such a slow
start remained to be seen.
Work
on the photo books was slow but eventually four were made, which I assumed
enough to test the market. Making them was the easy part; selling them was,
however, far more complex. In the meantime, I continued with my morning jog and
swim and was impressed that I didn’t push my training but stuck to the planned
program.
25
June – 5 July - Lumut
Luckily,
the tropics is one of my favourite regions, and I had fun returning from the
shops and dodging monkeys wanting to grab my shopping. Still, renting an
apartment for an entire month was a tad overzealous. It wasn’t even halfway
through the month and I was already keen to get going.
Feeling
restless, a short cycle took me to Marine Island, which sported a scuba diving
shop, but they were closed. So instead, I went to the Mall, had a facial, and afterwards
popped in at the Rahmat maritime museum, a Navy battleship, and a fun place to
explore.
6
July - Lumut
Three
miles offshore, one could find the twin islands of Pangkor and Pangkor Laut,
home to a multitude of fishing villages with traditional Malay houses. With the
ferry ticket a mere 10MYR (return), the island was a favourite place for backpackers
and domestic travellers alike. I joined the crowds and went to investigate.
7
July - Lumut - Bangkok
Months
later, the passport saga continued. Eventually, a phone call to the Embassy in
Bangkok revealed; seeing I lost the passport, (as opposed to stolen) the fee
was double the initial amount. It would’ve been genuinely lovely if someone had
informed me accordingly. The fee was only payable at the Embassy! At times, the
truth is stranger than fiction! I threw a few things in a backpack and hopped
on a bus to Bangkok.
8
July - Bangkok
Twenty-four
hours later, the bus arrived at one of my favourite cities. In Bangkok, Peachy
Guesthouse, was my abode of choice as the place was dirt cheap. A
familiar-looking pannier, by the rubbish bin, caught my eye. I knew the pannier
quite well as it belonged to Ernest, whom I’d cycled with many years until we
parted ways in the Americas. He must’ve stayed at Peachy not too long before,
and it turned out not only my panniers were falling apart.
9
July - Bangkok
First
things first and I caught a water taxi to the Embassy. It’s exciting to use
city transport, like everyone else. Any town where one could take a water taxi
to get around receives a thumbs-up from me. Once at the Embassy, the required
fee was paid and I’d the rest of the day to wander around the shops.
Enough
time remained to pop into the National Museum. To celebrate the 60th birthday
of HRH Princess Maha Chakri Sirindhorn, the Fine Arts Department hosted a
special exhibition, “Feminine Deities: Buddhism, Hinduism And Indigenous Cults In
Thailand”. Maybe they weren’t well-liked, as the majority were headless.
10–11
July - Bangkok
Staying
in Bangkok one more day was easy as I was in no hurry to go anywhere, and Bangkok
offered a never-ending supply of exciting happenings.
By
evening, Khao San Road was its usual hive of activity; situated in the heart of
Backpackerville, it’s here where you could be pierced, tattooed and dreadlocked
if you wished. You could eat bugs, shop for jewellery and clothes (which I did)
and buy fake IDs, driver’s licenses, diving cards and even photographer’s
passes (tempting; imagine what all one could do with such an ID). By evening,
an outdoor cultural show had me transfixed.
The
idea of leaving Thailand without watching the national sport is quite inconceivable.
Muay Thai is a sport like no other; you can, seemingly, use knees, elbows,
shins, hands and feet. It’s an intriguing sport, and the men are well built -
enough reason to watch.
Finally,
the time came to leave Bangkok and return to Malaysia. This time by train, I believed
far nicer than taking a bus. I love how the tray tables unfolded when serving
food (tablecloth and all) and how they make the beds at night. It reminds me of
a long-forgotten era. There’s nothing quite like crawling in and falling asleep
to the hypnotic clickety-clack of the wheels on the tracks. I love how the
sound steadily increases as the train gets up to speed—pure magic.
12–16
July - Lumut
Arriving
in Lumut, it felt like returning home. I’d to smile at people saying: “Hi,
hello, did you enjoy your holiday?” typically followed by “Have you eaten?”
17
July - Lumut – Sungai Besar - 107 km
Finally,
my last day in Lumut arrived, and I was happy to pack up and resume my journey.
Cycling the same country twice could be somewhat monotonous but there are
always new places to explore and I’d no choice but to wait until the new
passport arrived.
I
pedalled until reaching Sungai Besar, which sported inexpensive accommodation.
The evening was enjoyable as people celebrated Eid, marking the end of the
Islamic holy month of Ramadan, known as Hari Raya Aidilfitri. As a result, countless
Malay families don new clothes in the same hue – men in loose shirts with
trousers and women in full-length blouse and skirt combinations, typically made
of silk or silk-like material. This, I understood, signified unity.
18
July - Sungai Besar – Sekinchan - 25km
Plagued
with a stomach bug, I pulled into Sekinchan. I scarcely took any pictures as
I’d other things to worry about. The rooms were more pricey than usual as the
Eid festival was in full swing. The festival was a family and friends day where
people visited family, asking forgiveness for wrongdoings in the past year, but
mostly they seemed to eat.
19
July - Sekinchan – Klang - 80 km
My
late departure was due to waiting until the weather cleared and thus late
before pedalling out of Sekinchan. Unfortunately, the drizzle continued for the
best part of the day. Still, I didn’t need to run into the bushes like the
previous day, and the overcast weather made comfortable riding. The traffic was
hectic. Mercifully, a smaller path ran parallel to the main road.
20-21
July - Klang – Taman Pura Prima - 30 km
From
Klang, I veered slightly inland to visit Peter Yoong, a fellow cyclist and
Warmshower host I met in Thailand while on his South East Asia tour a few
months earlier. A short and easy ride led south along a separate motorbike
lane, complete with road signs.
I
soon arrived at Peter’s place, and what a lovely family they were; Peter even
had a cold beer waiting for me.
The
following morning, we frequented the market and afterwards, Peter baked three
pies. Did I pick the right Warmshowers host, or what? By evening Ivan, another
cyclist, arrived. Peter drove us to Kuala Lumpur, allowing me to take pictures
of the famous Petronas Twin Towers.
22
July - Taman Pura Prima – Lukut - 115 km
Peter
suggested taking the coastal route, a shortcut to Port Dickson; this was a
great idea as it was far quieter and scenic. Reaching Pelek, the path cut
through oil-palm plantations to a river where a small ferry carted people
across. Once at the opposite bank, a short distance remained to Lukut.
23-25
July - Lukut – Malacca - 100 km
A
pleasant day led across large rivers and past green and lush swampy areas, precisely
what one would expect of Malaysia. Arrival in Malacca was in good time, where I
searched for the Warmshowers host. Howard ran a small guesthouse/hostel and
cyclists could stay on the rooftop terrace free of charge.
Howard
turned out immensely generous and helpful. Coffee and tea were on the house,
and the rooftop terrace was the place where all hung out.
The
next day I took the bike for a service and wandered around the streets of old
Malacca, now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Staying
an additional day came easy. Firstly, I did the free walking tour and then took
the camera to the shop to be cleaned. En route to the hostel, a bonsai show got
my attention. Although I know nothing concerning bonsais, they were
magnificent.
26
July - Malacca – Batu Pahat - 88 km
Not
a great deal happened during the day, except it started raining, and instead of
becoming soaked, I found a place to pull off and hide until all was over.
27
July - Batu Pahat – Pontian Kecil - 77 km
The
ride to Pontian Kecil came with the usual stalls to fill up with water or sample
the local cuisine. The plan was to stay at a Warmshowers but a misunderstanding
made me find alternative digs. At the hotel, staff surprisingly still used the
abacus. What an interesting world we live in.
28
July - Pontian Kecil – Kota Tinggi - 105 km
The
best part of the day was spent riding along hectic main roads and consequently
not all pleasant. Again, the rain caught me but passed quickly. Once in Kota
Tinggi, I’d enough of the horrendous traffic and weakened at the sight of a
hotel. Luckily, a food court was located next door and provided curry noodle
soup.
29-30
July - Kota Tinggi – Mersing - 105 km
The
way was primarily undulating through oil palm plantations but, all in all, a
comfortable ride. In Mersing, a spot at the famous Embassy Hotel was the best
value in town and I paid for two nights’ accommodation. The following day, a
phone call to the SA Embassy in Bangkok revealed the application was finally on
Home Affairs’ system. I hoped that matters wouldn’t take too long from then on.
The rest of the day was spent doing regular rest-day chores and I even had a
pizza.
31
July - Mersing – Chalets Kampong Merchong - 96 km
The
coastal road eventually led back onto Route 3 via Rompin. Sadly, workers were
clearing the natural forest to become oil palm plantations. A little beyond
that workers burnt the forest to make clearing easier. Always a sad sight.
My
path took me past a massive brick-built aviary, used as a swiftlet and edible
bird’s nest farm. At the time, a kilogram of white nests could cost up to US$2,000,
and red nests up to US$10,000, and thus an extremely lucrative business.
Basic
chalets along the river made an excellent place to spend the night. Sadly, the
air was thick with smoke from fires to such an extent, I secretly planned what
to grab when push came to shove. Fortunately, a thunderstorm came to the rescue
and calmed things down a tad.
1-2
August - Chalets Kampong Merchong – Kuantan - 111 km
Roadside
stands sold various exotic cuisine; lemang was a delicacy of sticky rice baked
in bamboo. It’s a good thing I take pictures as sometimes I think nothing
happened until looking at the pictures. Someone once said: Travellers see more
than they remember and remember more than they see. I thought it a very true
statement.
Kuantan
was considerably larger than anticipated and featured a Backpackers Hostel but
no bicycle store. So instead, I settled for a guesthouse. Luckily, the place was
opposite the night market, and as I hadn’t eaten all day, I shouldn’t have gone
shopping hungry.
I
tried to fix the laptop’s touchpad but only managed to break the entire thing and
therefore sought out the computer shop in the morning.
3
August - Kuantan – Kerteh - 97 km
I
laugh out loud on biking out of Kuantan - the joy of moving on and the freedom
it brings could sometimes be overwhelming. I must admit I usually have this
feeling on the downhill. Although several places of interest were sprinkled
along the way, I didn’t feel like stopping and biked until reaching Kerteh. Unfortunately,
conservative Kerteh, didn’t have a considerable amount of attractions. Not even
beer was available but a good enough bed could be found and that was all I
needed.
4-5
August - Kerteh – Kuala Terengganu - 117 km
Once
again, a pleasant and easy ride led past plenty of fishing villages and across
wide rivers, reminding me this was indeed the tropics. The Seaview Hotel lacked
a sea view but came with a ground-floor room to store the bike. The nearby
Chinatown made a relaxing stroll and provided a much-needed meal.
By
morning I handed in the laundry. Then, I headed back to Chinatown which offered
interesting 3D street art/murals and hard to tell where the real thing ended
and the painting started.
Chinatown
was a fascinating place, full of colour and delicious food. The markets were crammed
with unfamiliar merchandise and strange smells, all making a fascinating visit.
6
August - Kuala Terengganu – Kuala Besut - 109 km
It
took the best part of the day to cycle the 109 kilometres to Kuala Besut, as cycling
was into a mild headwind. The route was pan flat and hugged the coast. The East
Coast was dotted with small islands, the most famous being the Perhentian
Islands and where I was heading.
Once
in Kuala Besut, food stalls miraculously appeared, and I’d plenty to choose
from. Good thing too, as I hadn’t eaten all day and was starving.
7-9
August - Kuala Besut – Perhentian Islands - By ferry
I
left the bicycle at the guesthouse and took the ferry to the nearby islands.
The ferry stopped at various places, but I got off at Longbeach. The village offered
budget accommodation and cheap diving. Oh La La came at a reasonable price and
I booked a dive for the following morning and spent the rest of the day
snorkelling.
The
next day a boat ride took us to a pinnacle around 20 minutes away. Although the
visibility wasn’t fantastic, the dive was beautiful, with abundant life along
the reef. By evening I joined the other divers for supper on the beach; the
food was terrific. The next morning, another dive took us out to a cave and we returned
in time to catch the ferry to the mainland.
10
August - Kuala Besut – Kuala Terengganu - 112 km
Some
days are stranger than others and this was one of them. Soon after departing a
motorbike pulled up next to me and with lightning-fast action, the man reached
out and grabbed my boob and sped off. I let rip with profanities and gave him
the middle finger. He highly likely wouldn’t have understood “Jou ma se moer.” Still,
it made me feel better.
Later
a friendly chap stopped and offered me a ride to Terengganu. According to him
Terengganu was too far to cycle in a day, even though only 50 kilometres and
still early. I declined his offer, thanked him for his kindness and with faith
in humanity restored, proceeded to Terengganu where my arrival was in good
time. I stopped in Chinatown, picked up a takeaway of fried noodles and beer
and headed to the Sea View Hotel without the sea view.
11
August - Kuala Terengganu – Dundun - 94 km
The
route passed countless roadside stands selling satay-skewered chicken wrapped
in banana leaves and cooked on a smoky charcoal grill. At one of the stalls, I
realised I was wearing odd shoes, quite a feat taking I only owned two pairs;
give me strength. Unfortunately, most of the day was spent riding into a stiff
breeze and midway to Dundun, the rain came gushing down. It rained so hard I
needed to take cover.
The
weather eased, and I biked onward to Dundun, which offered plenty of places to
stay along the beachfront. Regrettably, they were all expensive, and in the end,
I settled for the least expensive of the bunch, a big mistake as my digs turned
out easily the worst place in Malaysia.
12-13
August - Dungun – Cherating - 86 km
Cherating
was a charming fishing village along the coast. In the days before direct
transport from the highlands to the Perhentian Islands, travellers stopped here
to enjoy a bit of R & R. Nowadays, very few travellers stop in Cherating
and the place had a sad air of ghostliness and decline. However, the heaps of
accommodation with practically no one there made finding bargain rooms easy.
Staying the following day was easy and it was an excellent place to do laundry
and lounge about.
14
August - Cherating – Pekan - 90 km
Retracing
one’s steps is never much fun, but staying in Pekan was intriguing. Not only is
this where the Sungai Pahang (the longest river in Peninsular Malaysia) flows
into the South China Sea, but the town was further home to rows of old Chinese
shophouses.
At
my abode, I debated where to go next. The monsoon season was on its way, and I
was drawn to India where the monsoon season was about to end. Not having cycled
Bangladesh made the country a fascinating option.
15
August - Pekan – Rompin - 94 km
An
easy day of biking led along the ocean. As requested, I’d word from the Embassy
in Bangkok informing me my passport was sent to Bangkok instead of Cape Town.
The passport was already in the diplomatic bag and would arrive in Bangkok in
two days. I was understandably sceptical regarding this info. If that were the
case, I could either have it couriered or collect it myself. That’s if the Thai
border control would let me in with a nearly full passport.
16
August - Rompin – Mersing - 66 km
Mersing
was only a short distance away and I didn’t bother with breakfast before
setting out. The coastal route was far more pleasant than the main road and the
ride became one of many coffee stops and grand vistas. In Mersing, settling for
the Embassy Hotel was a no-brainer as rooms came with hot water, air-con and
TV.
My
laptop finally gave in, and although it still worked, the screen was shaky and I
guessed only a matter of time until it packed up entirely.
17
August - Mersing – Kluang - 90 km
The
ride would’ve been nice if only the road were slightly wider and the multitude
of trucks didn’t make biking any easier. Instead, the way mainly led through
oil palm plantations and partly through a natural forest.
Sadly,
I spotted a distressed looking monkey and noticed her little one knocked down.
The poor mother looked stressed and disorientated, pacing up and down as any
human would. How incredibly sad.
18
August - Kluang – Muar - 108 km
The
17th came and went, and still, no passport news. Sigh. I assume the passport
wasn’t in the diplomatic bag as promised. The route to Muar was uneventful and
once Muar the town was more significant than foreseen.
I’d
a long chat with the man at the reception desk. What surprised me was that
people in Malaysia generally could speak up to six languages. Predominantly
Malay, English, Cantonese and Mandarin, and various other dialects.
19
August - Muar – Port Dickson - 126 km
I
pushed on to Port Dickson as I’d already cycled this section a few weeks
earlier. Once in Port Dickson, camping was on the beach under trees and the
spot came with a lovely view over the ocean, I sat watching the sunset and then
took a walk to a nearby restaurant.
20
August - Port Dickson – Puchong - 90 km
No
day comes without a few surprises and this morning was no different. I woke to
a massive storm and had to hold down the tent to prevent it from blowing away. Rain
bucketed down, and I feared I’d pitch the tent too close to the water’s edge.
Fortunately, the tide never came quite that high and the storm soon subsided.
Sopping wet I biked in the direction of Puchong where the plan was to stay at
Peter’s place a few days or at least until my new passport arrived.
21-25
August - Puchong
I
hardly did anything, apart from chatting with Peter and his family. Carolina
from Brazil was another lady staying at Peter’s place and helping him in his
garden. Carolina was a lovely lady full of energy and continually looking for
something to do, whereas I sat doing nothing. Carolina was from HelpX, a fantastic
concept whereby members could stay with local people free of charge, in exchange
for helping them with whatever they needed help with.
The
days slipped by unnoticed. At least I organised my passport (still in South
Africa) to be sent to Malaysia. Then, surprisingly, my laptop came back to life
and seemed to work fine.
It
turned out the Hungry Ghost festival. In ancient Chinese folk culture, people
believed this was a month of ghosts. It’s thought that the gates of hell are
thrown open, releasing hungry ghosts to wander the earth in search of food.
Food was put out for the spirits’ benefit as well as piles of paper money. At
temples, exquisite paper houses, cars, mobile phones, etc., were burnt, I guessed
if the souls needed them. Even paper shoes were left out, so the spirits didn’t
have to walk barefoot. These ghosts are unfortunate souls who became hungry
ghosts due to evils committed in their former lives. Clearly, most of these
deeds included drinking, gambling, smoking, etc., as a substantial amount of
these items were put out for these sad souls. If that’s indeed the case, I am
doomed to become a hungry ghost.
26
August - Puchong
Peter
drove us to the nearby Hindu temple. The temple was brand new, and parts were
still in the process of being painted. Hindu temples are elaborately decorated,
and the architecture is simply breathtaking, I understood artisans were brought
in from India.
Although
these temples are places of worship, it’s interesting to note the Hindu Monk
Swami Vivekananda taught temples are simply a means of reaching God, not an
end. “Man is to become divine by realising the divine. Idols or temples, or
churches or books, are only supports.” ― Swami Vivekananda, Complete Works.
27
August - Puchong
Peter
and I set out in search of the alleged haunted house of Puchong. The home is
located on a hill in the suburb of Taman Tenaga. The story goes the house was
once owned by a wealthy Chinese businessman who went bankrupt. He and his
entire family committed suicide but various versions of the story did the
rounds. Others say they were murdered by an unknown psychopath killer who still
lives in the house’s walls. The house was left to go to ruins in fear of the
souls living there.
I
read Bomohs (Malaysian witch doctors) use the house to practice their rituals.
Stories of Pontianaks (female vampire ghosts) taking up residence in the place
was popular. Reports tell of people seeing lights turning on and off, even
though power and water have been cut off for years. As could be expected,
people heard screams of children and, of course, sighting of shadowy figures.
We found the place but no ghosts; only thousands of pursuing mosquitoes.
28
August–2 September - Puchong
Finally,
my passport arrived and I was more than happy to move along. The question
remained where to go. India and Bangladesh were my first choice. Applying for
visas in Kuala Lumpur made sense, seeing I was already there. However, being a weekend,
and the following Monday, a holiday, it was Tuesday before going to the
Bangladesh Embassy. Peter drove me to the city only to find the Embassy only
issued visas to Malays. I hence decided to cycle north to Bangkok and apply
there for an Indian visa.
3
September - Puchong – Sekinchan - 110 km
Although
sad to leave Peter and his family I was happy to get underway. Peter suggested a
smaller path along the coast, which turned out great cycling and far better
than the main road. This was my kind of riding - a quiet path along the beach
with only a few monkeys and the odd monitor lizard.
4
September - Sekinchan – Sitiawan - 127 km
Breakfast
was roti canai but barely 10 kilometres further, had to make a Gaviscon stop.
Chillies, which I should’ve known by then wasn’t such a good idea first thing
in the morning. I returned to the tiny coastal path of the previous day. I proceeded
past small fishing hamlets and lovely-looking resorts with cabins on stilts
over the water. My path weaved its way through palm plantations until I reached
a river that mercifully had a ferry to take me across.
The
smoke haze wasn’t improving, but instead worsened. According to newspapers, the
causes of the fog were forest burning, smoke from factories, vehicle emissions,
and open burning. The pollution surely can’t be healthy. Nevertheless, nothing
of interest happened after crossing the river, and I pushed on to Sitiawan.
5
September - Sitiawan – Taiping - 90 km
Although
drizzling, it never rained awfully hard, resulting in me continuing until reaching
Taiping shortly past midday. Skipping breakfast left me starving and sent me
hunting for food almost immediately.
The
Taiping Zoo was open at night and made a great place to explore after sunset.
The zoo was dimly lit, resembling a full moon. I thought it quite magical
wandering about listening to the sounds of the night and smelling the damp
forest. Much grunting, stomping and chewing could be heard. While wondering
what I would do if a crocodile suddenly jumped at me, a deer bounced out from
behind a bush, giving me the fright of my life.
6
September - Taiping – Penang - 101 km
A
quick breakfast and I was on my way. Minor paths, although slightly further,
made a far more pleasant ride. Malaysia is exceptionally modern and one could
easily forget how tropical the country is. The way crossed numerous rivers, all
jam-packed with fishing boats of all shapes and sizes. Finally, it spat me out
in Butterworth, where I boarded the ferry to Penang. Although there was a
bridge, the ferry was extremely popular with cars and motorbikes.
I
felt privileged to be back in Penang with its historic district and an immense
variety of street food and street art. I searched for a visa agent as, typically,
only a 2-week stay was granted at Thailand land borders. One can, nonetheless,
easily obtain a 3-month visa beforehand but it came at the cost of RM150. As I planned
on applying for an Indian and Bangladesh visa in Bangkok, I opted for the
3-month one.
Loads
of places offered visa services and I handed my passport to them to do the
necessary.
7
September - Penang
As
the visa took a day or two, I’d a relaxing day. Finally, I started a new blog
as I couldn’t access the old one even though I knew the password, email and
username. The problem being I no longer had access to the phone number provided
many moons ago—what a load of crap!
I
finally gave up trying and started a new blog. The new blog kept me busy as the
last update was way back in the Philippines in 2013. In fact, it took a further
7 years before I could delete the old blog!
8
September - Penang
Working
on the blog kept me occupied as I desperately wanted to finish it before departing
Malaysia. At around midday, I collected the passport and then updated the blog.
A walk around town revealed the town buzzing with the Hungry Ghost festival.
The festival lasted roughly two weeks and occurred during June/July (Chinese
calendar).
Not
all areas celebrate the festival simultaneously, and while in places
festivities were already finished, others only just started. In Penang, giant
joss sticks were burning, food stands were everywhere, and live performances
made a festive atmosphere.
9
September - Penang
I
emerged to pouring rain and waited a while, but the rain never subsided. In the
meantime, I met fascinating people at the Love Lane Inn hostel. At least 5 of
them were travelling by motorbike. A French guy was travelling on an Australian
“Postie”. The Indian chap was on a motorbike and so was the French couple. The
Australian travelled using local motorbikes, buying and selling them as he went
along. Taking them across borders was far too costly. I thus stayed and had a
couple of beers with the other travellers.
10
September - Penang – Guran - 110 km
I
finally departed via a secondary path and though it drizzled on and off all day
it wasn’t too terrible. Sadly, once in Pantai Merdeka, the ferry across the
river was nowhere to be seen. Even after asking around, I couldn’t locate
anyone to take me across and returned to the main road and onto Guran, which
had digs and food.
11
September - Guran, Malaysia – Sadao Border Post, Thailand - 105 km
It
turned out a good day of biking, the rain was gone and the sky blue. A small
path ran flush along the main road, making pedalling easy. The rain of the
previous two days made flooded rice paddies and fresh air and the countryside
looked lush and green as my route headed to the border.
The
border crossing into Thailand was surprisingly troublesome. Firstly, I now had
two passports (the old one and the new one), and secondly, you had to produce
cash as well as a return ticket. So off I went to the bank to draw money, which
satisfied the lady. After explaining I was travelling by bicycle, they
mercifully didn’t insist on a ticket out of the country. By then already relatively
late, I overnighted in Sadao.
