Pregnant lady island – part of the Langkawi archipelago.

We aimed very high the day that we departed Penang, in that we would be celebrating Ben’s birthday with him in Langkawi that evening.  We left the guesthouse just before sunrise and were on the first ferry back to the mainland.  Once in Butterworth Jude was struck down by some kind of stomach bug and after spending some time being intimate with a toilet we were back on the road.  We had over 100km to cover and we were feeling optimistic.  Even a mild drizzle could not dampen our spirits.  Then the head wind began, and continued for the whole 100kms.  By mid morning we were running on empty, so we pulled over for a tasty treat.  The restaurant may have smelt like it was next to a sewage farm, but it served the best roti chanai and sweet tea I have ever tasted.

Early morning goodbye from our guest house in Penang.

 We pushed on through the Bujang Valley and sought out the archaeological museum I had read about in one of the tourist brochures.  As with most brochures here, they tell you about the sight but fail to give any kind of address.  Even the museums website did not have it listed.  Luckily we stumbled across the sign to it and were rewarded with a 2km climb to reach it.  We arrived there hot and wet, but were rewarded with great artifacts, chandis and information about the Hindu-Buddhist polity period from the 3^rd-12^th century.  After our self-allocated hour was up and we had to hit the road to cover the last 45km to the port from where we would get the ferry to Langkawi.  Enter stage left: a few steep hill climbs and a flat tyre to slow us down.  We pulled into Kuala Kedah 30 minutes before our ferry departed, and enjoyed the hour and a half long journey to Langkawi.

Bujang Valley artefacts at the archaeological museum.

Bok bok at the chandis.

The inconvenient flat tyre.

 As the sun was setting, our ferry slipped passed the many jungle covered limestone karst islands that make up the Langkawi archipelago.  On landing, we watched with amusement as our fully laden bikes were lifted on to, and then wheeled down a piece of wood no wider than a fence paling.  We briefly considered catching a maxi-taxi the 21km to our guesthouse on the other side of the island, but after a few dubious looks from taxi drivers we decided to ride.  Fortunately most of the roads were well lit and there was a big shoulder along the side.  We eventually had to turn on to more minor roads and about 2km before our destination tragedy struck.  We were rounding a corner, in the pitch black, following the barely visible white of the painted curb, when my front wheel plunged into the open drain that had not been part of the road previously.  I fell hard, landing on the same side that had been injured in the car crash two days earlier.  Luckily only superficial injuries again, and in 5 minutes we had spotted ‘the pod’ on the main road and were heading to the guesthouse for a shower.

Langkawi archipelago

 15 hours after setting off from the Penang guesthouse that morning, we were sitting in a restaurant celebrating Ben’s birthday with cold beers and great food.  Ben spent his evening in heaven – drinking cold beers at a beachside bar surrounded by beautiful women (and Kit).  After attempting a human pyramid, the night was topped off with a nudie swim.  It was incredible, as it was difficult to tell where the stars ended and water began due to the phosphorescence in the water.  It was like swimming with faeries.  We fell into bed in the wee hours of the morning, happy to be in yet another tropical paradise with friends.

The birthday boy lounging with his ladies.

 The following day we were exhausted and crawled out of our hidey-hole only for food and drinks.  The rest of the day was spent watching Spooks and reading books.  We were also excited as our friend Marita was joining us that evening and she will be travelling with us for a while (not on a bike – as yet).  As dusk set in, her taxi pulled up and there was a lot of girly squealing as we hugged and caught up.  After settling her into our room we hit the town and found a bustling Chinese restaurant where to share dinner and stories.  It is a real delight to have a friend join us!  It makes the time and the distance from home not seem as long, especially as it has now been 8 months since we cycled out of Thornbury.

Our hidey-hole.

Our early morning running beach.

 As the new day dawned, Jude and I thanked each other for the best four years of our life – yes it’s our anniversary!  After a love in, the three of us went for an early morning run along the beach.  It was great to be running again and it was fun watching all the Asian tourists having fun on the beach.  I think all the Westerners are still sleeping at this hour.  Unfortunately after 8km barefoot, the sand gave me blisters on the ends of my toes – ouch.

Waiting for our boat.

Ready to cruise.

More island loving.

 To celebrate the day with us, the pod had organized a boat tour around the islands.  We ogled at the luscious islands that dotted the azure blue waters – we are told that the archipelago is made up of 99 islands.  Soon we were doing bombs and swimming in a fresh water inland lake on pregnant lady island.  Then we scooted off to feed eagles chicken skin, odd but fun to watch as there were so many different varieties of raptors.  The afternoon was finished off on a beautiful white sand beach, swimming and drinking a few cheeky beers.  Kit became our captain on the way home and we raced a boat full of posing men on the way to port.

The pontoon on the inland lake.

The swimming pod.

Apparently eagles love chicken skin.

Another day in paradise.

The evening was kicked off with a tower of beer at a beach side bar.   After a few cheeky bevvies, Jude and I slipped away and had romantic dinner at a lovely Italian restaurant – pasta, pizza, crème brule and wine!  We talked well into the night and strolled hand in hand along the beach.  A candle lit paper lantern was released as we passed and we watched it float into the night sky.  I really am the luckiest person.

A great place to relax.

Marita, Ben and a tower of beer.

A wine (or two) to celebrate our anniversary.

 More fun continued the next day with an afternoon at the Seven Wells.  We piled out of the taxis and hiked up the hill, laughing at how we all don’t trust the monkeys.  We spent the afternoon sliding from one rock pool to the next on natural slides.  I must admit I did end up with a wedgie quite often and the rock surface sometimes gave my cheeks an exfoliation I wasn’t expecting.  Ben was particularly adept at the sliding, going down on his stomach face first.

Rock pools at the Seven Wells.

The waterfall.

 We then hiked to the bottom of the waterfall, and continued to slide from pool to pool.  We watched with some horror and amusement as a group of male tourists from Penang continued to get drunk, despite already being on the point of vomiting everywhere.  The paramedic in me cringed when they then had to climb up slippery rock faces to get out of the area.  Darwinism at work I reminded myself.  My amusement lifted when our Greek and Nordic gay gods (Dimitri and Carlson) put on a spectacular show of crawling and posing on a tree branch that crossed the river.  After a few more slides it was time to head home, as there was a big party on in town that night.

The last pool.

Jess on the natural rock slide.

Bok bok at the Seven Wells.

 The ladies decided to don their finest and even Jude and I were not excluded from the primping.  Jude looked playful in a floral onesie and I pulled off elegant in a beautiful full-length gown.  The elegance didn’t last long as Charlotte and Jess had taken advantage of the duty free booze shopping, and we drank goon from ceramic mugs.  By the time we had a late dinner and walked along the beach the party was over.  We finished off the goon by moonlight on the beach.  The walk home saw me loose my temper for the first time in ages when a sleazy man child suggested that we were lesbians because we hadn’t had good sex, and that we should experience it with him.  Idiot.

Jude rockin the onesie, with goon in hand.

Ready to party.

 After another morning run we organised our departure from Langkawi.  We were standing next to one of the many tourist-booking places when a woman on a motorbike rocked up.  Our gaydar went off and we were offered the best deal on a boat journey.  We couldn’t say no.  Our gaydar was confirmed that evening when she talked about not having a girlfriend, only time for one-night stands.  She was a pocket rocket of energy and a huge flirt, and offered to join us on our journey if one of us would share a bed with her.  The rest of that day was spent at the beach just relaxing.  We swam, read and kicked back on our banana lounges until the sun set.  We gained a group mascot – Brian the sand cat, and were later a little disturbed as a young girl tormented him by throwing him around and almost slamming him into a wall.  That evening was a quiet girly night, as half the pod had left to Railay for some serious rock-climbing.

Girly day at the beach.

Brian the sand cat.

 The alarm rang early, and Jude and I were off to the port before sunrise.  It is always lovely to ride at this time of day, as the air is fresh and the roads quiet.  Once at the dock we watched the sunrise over the islands and then spent the next hour waiting for the tour people to turn up.  As Koh Lipe is in Thailand, we were shuttled to immigration to have our passports departure stamped.  Back at the dock our lovely lesbian friend was waiting for us with gifts of water and cakes.  If she wasn’t already going on a holiday to meet a friend, I’m sure she would have joined us in a heartbeat.  We waved her goodbye as the speedboat took off at a rate of knots.  Bouncing on the waves was fun for the first 10 minutes, but as the hour wore on it became less fun and more painful.  I actually thought the hull was going to crack as the boat came slamming down on wave after wave.

Posers on the way to Koh Lipe.

 But we made it to Koh Lipe safely and the white sand beaches and relaxed atmosphere put us at ease in no time.  Things were so relaxed that as we lay about in hammocks, the tour operator took our passports to immigration for us and our visas were approved without any official laying eyes on us.  I think it has to be the most relaxed border crossing ever.  Country number five here we are!

Very excited to see the relaxed shores of Koh Lipe, and country number five!

 My love as always,

Astrid xx

Welcome to Penang!

Street art, Georgetown

We rolled into Georgetown, Penang in the early evening, exhausted after 133km (our biggest day by 3km). I always feel especially happy after these epic days, particularly when I know we have time off in front of us to relax. It feels like we have earned it. Our wonderful British ‘pod’ friends had messaged us earlier, letting us know where they were staying, so we didn’t even need to search around for accommodation. A few weeks of the same arrangement had them joking that we should be paying them a commission to be our travel agents. They had certainly done an amazing job in Penang, as our accommodation was in a beautiful restored Chinese shop house. It was quite a small hostel, so it almost felt like a very large (clean) share house, as our group took up most of the rooms. Even though it had only been two days on the road, it was lovely seeing familiar faces. Like I have said before, it’s a well worn backpacker trail in Malaysia and we would continue to have a much more social experience here than in Indonesia. After having a delightfully cold shower and a beer, a large group consisting of the pod, Chui, Pim and us went out for dinner in a Hawker Centre nearby, before falling into bed, exhausted.

Backpackers turned cyclists, Chui and Pim. May we meet again in the Netherlands!

Street art, Georgetown

 The next day we got to appreciate that Georgetown where we were staying was really a special place. Again, it was the intoxicating mix of Malay, Chinese, Indian and European culture. Every street corner will offer you an array of food choices, sounds and smells. There are hidden wine bars run by Belgium expats, streets blasting Bollywood tunes and carts selling Chinese herbal tea. I think these are the things I really appreciate: cultures mixing and living side by side. Again I am reflecting back at the world the things that I know from home, but what are we but at least partially a product of our surroundings? Of course like anywhere there are hidden racial tensions that you can only appreciate with time. Many people would say Australia is multicultural, but we all know that racism certainly exists there, as it does here. Still, there are people here, as there are in Australia that genuinely want to see a multicultural society, where ideas, experiences and culture is shared and valued. This was certainly evident at the literary festival we attended, where people from all walks of Malaysian society shared their work and ideas.

The Mosque, Georgtown

More street art, Georgetown

Unfortunately Astrid became a little unwell on our first few days in Penang, so we mixed up chilling out in our room, watching Spooks in our underwear, with culture. The literary festival, coffee houses, bars and street art were a real highlight of wonderful Georgetown. We even made it to a very disturbing Indonesian film called ‘the act of killing’.  It was about Government sponsored psychopaths murdering communists (or suspected communists) during Suharto’s reign. Many of these people are still in power today. Remarkably, this film is not banned in Indonesia but is not widely distributed. It certainly paints a very disturbing picture of Indonesian society, even today.

So cool! more random art in Georgetown. You find these kind of things all through the back streets

Leggo!

 Our time in Penang was also an opportunity to pick up our 60 day Thai Visa as otherwise you are only granted a 15 day visa on land crossings. After the beaurocratic nightmare that was Indonesia we slightly anxious about exactly what this would entail. We were more than pleasantly surprised when whole process only involved a form, 2 passport photos, 110 RM (each) and a pick up that afternoon. We could barely believe it. I almost didn’t make it to pick up the visa though. As Astrid was still a bit sick, I insisted she stay at the hostel and I go and pick up our visas on my own. No issue, I had been there that very morning. So wrong. Combine someone who is slightly challenged at directions, with many one way streets, torrential rain and a i phone that keeps cracking the shits when it gets damp and you have me cycling completed saturated and on the verge of tears of rage. I am sure I went around in endless circles and in the end I found the embassy quite by chance, 15 minutes after it had supposedly shut. Embassies are usually fickle with their closing times but this one was luckily still open. I was very grateful.

‘The Pod’ Penang Hill

It’s still a long way to go! A sign with the kilometres for London on it.

 Apparently “you haven’t been to Penang if you haven’t been to Penang Hill”. Taking our inspiration from our British friends, we decided to join them on a trek to see what exactly Penang Hill involved. We took a bus, then a crazy, almost vertical train to the summit of a hill that overlooked Penang. On the summit was a menagerie of tourist attractions, including a ‘Dinosaur museum’ in a tent like structure. The ‘Dinosaur’s ‘ sounded like cow’s in distress. There was also an Owl Museum, which we wanted to go to, just because it sounded like a good story. Sadly it was out of our price range. In the end we explored a Hindu Temple, I accidently knocked over a small child that ran behind me as I was demonstrating my acrobatic talents and laughed a lot, before heading back, not entirely sure why you “haven’t been to Penang until you have been to Penang Hill”.

The crazy almost vertical train

Hindu Temple, Penang Hill.

More views from Penang Hill

 The time arrived to bid ‘the pod’ farewell, with plans to meet again in a few days in Langkawi. We also bid farewell to Georgetown and began the 25km cycle to the national park. On our way out of town we had an unfortunate experience with a driver who decided to overtake Astrid from behind and then turn left in front of her. Idiotically, when Astrid hit her car and was thrown from ‘the dirty samon’, the woman insisted on blaming Astrid because she had ‘had her indicator on’. Man, I hate car drivers at times. Astrid (who was luckily only bruised and scratched) would stand none of it and told the lady she was going to the police. We both quickly cycled the 300m to the police station, not before our idiotic driver made it there, pleading her case. The police asked us what happened and it was kind of funny as our story was exactly the same as hers, except that she didn’t realise she was completely in the wrong. When it became clear to her that the police were on our side, she rapidly changed her tune, apologising and pleading with us not to take it further. Neither of us could actually be bothered taking it further, we wouldn’t even have gone to the police if she had not been such an arrogant twat about it, refusing to take responsibility about something that was clearly her fault. After Astrid gave her a lecture and she apologised, we left and continued our cycle towards the national park.

Hiking through the beautiful National Park

Jungle

Our campsite

 At the park we chained our bikes to the fence and converted our panniers to backpacks. One of the best things we purchased before we left was an Ortlieb pannier carrier system, which basically clicks into the pannier, turning it into a backpack. Unfortunately we only have one, so the other pannier was carried rather awkwardly, like an oversized shoulder bag. We then trekked for about 2 hours through the jungle to a beautiful beach that reminded us a little of ‘the prom’. The campground was set back from the beach a little in the jungle, with toilets, showers and kitchen area. Better still, national parks in Malaysia are not full of rubbish and are completely free. We spent the afternoon swimming and relaxing on the beach. In the evening a creature came out of the water and I briefly had a freak out that it was a Komodo Dragon (which is impossible) but it ended up being a type of Otter. Very cute, actually. That night we fell asleep to the yet unfamiliar but soothing noises of the jungle.

This reminds us a bit of the prom

Some kind of tropical Otter – not a Komodo Dragon!

Ready to hike out

After one of the best sleeps I have had in the tent we went for a morning trail run to another beach, had a swim and then trekked back out to bikes. It was a real highlight staying in the national park and I would highly recommend it to anyone who has the good fortune of visiting Penang. The cycle back took us along the coast, past a floating mosque and beach side towns. Back in Georgetown we repacked our panniers and got our bikes ready for the big cycle to Langkawi the next day.  Both of us have enjoyed Penang a lot. It was an opportunity to do a lot of the things we like to do at home, enjoy culture, go to the movies, eat amazing food and hang out with friends. 

At high tide, the Mosque apparently looks like it is floating

Elephant!

“Boh” tea plantation where we had my afternoon tea party.

The steam rising from my cup of orange pekoe warmed my nose and sipping the tea warmed my heart.  Plates of strawberry tarts and chocolate cake covered the table.  I looked out over the vibrant green of the tea plantation and Jude said “happy birthday beautiful”.  It truly was.  We had just cycled through the highlands in the rain, explored a Buddhist temple and were now settled in for an afternoon tea party.  Over the next few hours we enjoyed ourselves drinking bottomless pots of tea, eating tasty treats, reading our books and talking about life and our journey.

The happy birthday grrrl.

Jude enjoying tea and treats.

For some reason birthdays make me take stock of where I am in life.  This year was no different and as I cycled home through the Cameron Highlands I was again struck by how incredible life is.  I am surrounded by love and joy, I have my health, I have new experiences everyday and I am living my dream – for all of this I am truly grateful. 

The stunning tea plantations.

 After another hot shower to warm up, I settled down with more cups of tea and enjoyed Skype dates with family and friends.  That evening the celebrations continued with a steamboat for dinner, where we ate so much delicious food cooked in a spicy Tom Yum soup that I thought I would explode.  Some cheeky beers followed this and just before midnight we rolled into bed full and happy.  A big thank you to those who sent greetings and love, and an extra big thank you to mum and Heidi for their generous gifts that allowed Jude and I to treat ourselves all day!

Cycling in the rain through the jungle.

 Every good birthday needs to be followed by a day of rest.  The rain continued to fall and we spent the day snuggled up on the patio, drinking cups of tea, reading books, researching where to go to next and occasionally running a few errands.  I must admit it is nice to have these days, as it brings a semblance of normality back to the journey we are on.  Like a day off we would have back at home.

Trail running along jungle track 1 to Mt. Brinchang.

Views over the Cameron Highlands.

 I have wanted to see the Cameron Highlands ever since Pablo regaled me with tales and tea from his travels here, well over a decade ago.  Unfortunately “development” has run riot, and not in a good way.  Buildings, mega-tourism and large scale agriculture permeates the hill town oasis I imagine the area once was.  Landslides and deforestation are rampant and if I had not been travelling here on a bike I would have been thoroughly disappointed.  Luckily the following afternoon we found a little slice of paradise on a jungle trail that led us up Mt Brinchang.  We attempted to trail run the track (I just read a book that has inspired me to attempt an ultra-marathon), but after a few kilometres my trusty Birkenstocks drew their last breath and expired in a mud puddle. 

Looking out over the view.

Climbing the tower at the top of Mt. Brinchang.

 It was not all a loss, as the views were spectacular and the hike was the beginning of the travel/friendship group – ‘the pod’.  On the way down the mountain we enjoyed a girly afternoon with Kirsty, Jess and Charlotte, eating strawberries and peanuts, and chatting about the pros and cons of travel through Asia as women.  Kit and Ben had veered off earlier in an attempt to tackle the highest peak in the highlands.  The hiking had brought on a hunger, and that evening we introduced ‘the pod’ to the delights of steamboat.  Plates of food covered the table and it was cooked in pots of spicy soup, and the beers kept coming as our bellies expanded exponentially.  After the feast, we headed back to the hostel and sat around the fireplace sharing stories, as we watched the night turn to early morning.

More views!

 The following day was spent on bike and life maintenance, as we were heading off the next morning and the ladies were in a desperate need of some TLC.  They were washed, tyres rotated, chains oiled, brakes adjusted and with an artistic flair – nail polish applied to the scratches.  We also did washing, wrote the blog and talked cycle touring with Chui and Pim, a lovely couple from Holland who had recently exchanged backpacks for bikes while travelling in China.  “Best decision ever”, they said.  We agreed!

Nail polish being applied to scratches in the paint.

 An early morning roti chanai fueled us for the remaining ride through the highlands.  The day of easy downhill that I had envisioned didn’t quite turn out as planned.  In reality it was a morning of more climbing and undulations as we traversed the remaining highland towns.  But what goes up must come down (eventually), and with jungle noises serenading us and breathtaking views around every corner, we cruised back down to the lowlands near Ipoh.  Unfortunately Malaysia’s environmental exploitation continued and while cycling amongst limestone karsts, I was astounded that they were being blasted and mined.  For a country that is promoting itself as ‘the tourist destination for 2014’ this destruction of beautiful areas is a real turn off for foreign visitors. 

Views on the way down.

The ladies on the side of the road.

 That evening we set up camp next to a Chinese temple.  The caretaker was very excited that we wanted to stay and he kindly opened the bathroom for us to have a much-needed shower.  We had forgotten how hot and humid it was after our reprieve in the highlands and the luxury of a shower was heavenly.  We started the following day at the local roti and tea shack for some early morning sustenance.  It is great watching the dough for the roti being stretched and then fried on the hot plate, while nearby the tea is being mixed with condensed milk, the sweet mixture being poured from pot to pot at an arms length. 

Camping next to the Chinese temple.

Roti chanai and sweet tea for breakfast – our favourite.

A selfie with rain clouds in the background.

 A full day of riding ensued as we pushed towards our destination of Penang.  Dark clouds had been gathering in the distance all morning and about 20km from Butterworth the sky opened and monsoonal rain fell.  This rain is that heavy, that by the time you have opened your pannier, found your rain jacket and put it on – you are already wet through to your underwear.  I feel like a kid again riding through the flooded streets, feet lifted in the air as I splash through puddles.  Despite there being a 1.5km bridge that runs from mainland Malaysia to Penang, cyclists are not permitted on it.  Instead we caught a ferry from Butterworth to Georgetown.  From the ferry, Georgetown looks like a metropolis and I wonder how a UNESCO World Heritage area could be hidden amongst it all.  As the old adage states – looks can be deceiving.

 Love Astrid x

On the road to Penang.

Butterworth bridge.

On the ferry.

Looks can be deceiving.

Travel for me is as much about the cultural experiences as it is about the more personal journey you inevitably find yourself on. It has now been a little over four months outside of Australia and we have both gone through a whole range of emotions. There are days when we are sad and miss friends and family a lot. Especially when things at home are tough and you feel helpless because you can’t be there to be supportive. It has reiterated the importance of feeling connected, of cultural bonds and shared experiences.  Most of the time you are without these things when traveling, on the outside of a world, looking in.  Yes, humanity is more the same than it is different, but sometimes cultural gaps seem insurmountable.  I think Astrid and I have been feeling it more because we are one more step outside the norm.  Especially coming from a place like Melbourne where being gay is such a non-issue you would hardly bother to define yourself as so.  In Asia (and I am mostly talking about the less touristy areas we travel through here) we are already viewed as a curiosity because we are women travelling without boyfriends (and on bikes!).  The fact that we could be a couple isn’t even on people’s radar. It’s so foreign and outside of what people know that you feel you would break their brains if you told them.  And as outsiders is it our place to do this?  We are not sure.  Subsequently most of the time we say nothing.  We are never sure how people would react, and while it’s not necessarily important with people we meet on the street, when we are staying with locals it is a potential issue.  Unless directly asked, our relationship remains unspoken.  This in turn makes us feel like edited versions of ourselves, which is something we have never had to be before.  Because we are surrounded by like-minded, accepting people at home, it is easy to forget that most of the world does not share this experience.  Travel shows me many wonderful things about the wider world but also gives me a deep appreciation of where I come from.

Malaysia however has been a break from the norm.  We find ourselves essentially cycling the well-worn backpacker trail and hanging out mainly with westerners.  I’m not sure exactly why, but I guess it is a smaller country with very specific points of interest with what can be rather bland scenery (think endless palm oil plantations) in between.  There are actual hostels here too, rather than guesthouses and it’s easy to meet other people to hang out with.  We have fallen into a habit of long days on the bikes followed by four or five days of essentially morphing into backpackers.  While part of me misses the challenging and disciplined cycling of Australia and the exposure to a lot of really non touristy places in Indonesia, Malaysia is fun in a light hearted easy way.

Food is happiness. Easily found on the side of the road in Malaysia

After our wonderful time in Melaka it was time for 5 big days of cycling to reach the Cameron Highlands for Astrid’s birthday.  We continued along flat, smooth highway five.  Occasionally we were able to go right along the coast, watching the locals enjoy the beaches, but mostly it was the wide shoulder of the highway that was our friend.  While a little dull, it is safe and easy.  After many hours of cycling we stopped just short of Port Dickson at an actual campground.  It was free and wedged between the highway and the ocean.  While not the most scenic, it was convenient, with a place to buy food just across the road.  An added bonus was that no one cared about 2 white girls putting up a tent and we had none of the watchers we have been used too.  We did have an interesting cultural moment when we went to go swimming. Locals basically swim in their clothes, which can even include the Hajib. By western standards our bathers are not skimpy at all but both of us felt practically naked when we went for a swim. It’s interesting how quickly your perceptions change!

Camping jut outside of Port Dickson

Day two saw us skirt around the outside of Kuala Lumpur, which meant some scary highway cycling, eyes pealed to the i phone’s GPS to navigate the overpasses and exits accurately.  Luckily it wasn’t for too long and soon we were back on a smaller road, surrounded by the familiar and disturbing palm oil plantations.  We did stop at an organic Dragon fruit farm for a shake and a snack during the mid morning, which was a highlight. The lady who ran the place gave us some poignant and interesting insights into life in Malay society. The most significant being the way the government actively discriminates against non- ethnic Malays, even though ethnic Chinese and Indian have been part of Malaysian society for generations. This is in the form of jobs and university scholarships, to name a few. She made the very valid point that Malaysia is in fact shooting itself in the foot with this policy, which is essentially resulting in a brain drain, as the smartest people end up getting scholarships and job opportunities  abroad. In the afternoon, storm clouds began to gather on the horizon.  We stopped for food late and were again treated to Malaysian hospitality when an elderly gentleman insisted on paying for it.  Soon the clouds began to look black and imminently threatening.  We pulled over at a petrol station and decided to wisely check Agoda (online booking app) for any cheap hotels nearby.  We found one in the outskirts of Klang, the town we were headed too.  Our foresight paid off as the thunderstorm soon arrived, drenching us in rain.  After nearly 130km we were grateful for a room and a hot shower, although we think our hotel may have doubled as a brothel.

Amazing colour and taste! Dragon fruit shake.

It’s a fashion conscious activity, as you can see!

Breakfast in Malaysia is certainly a highlight; freshly made roti with dahl dipping sauce and strong, sweet tea.  With that in our bellies we began day three, managing to push out 100km by the end.  Perhaps the only good thing about palm oil plantations is that they offer a good, hidden place for us to camp at night.

We hate what out of control palm oil plantations are doing to the environment, this may be the only good thing – easy camping options.

Cycling some of the small roads around the palm plantations

The mountains of the Cameron Highlands finally became visible the next afternoon as we pedaled the 120km to Tupah, which is the town at the foot of the mountain range.  Feeling tired we opted for a cheap hotel, rather then hunting around for somewhere to camp.

Tapah

Climbing day was finally upon us; 60km of uphill to the town of Tanah Rata.  I had been slightly dreading the climb, still haunted by Indonesian gradients and the knowledge that many touring cyclists end up getting lifts in trucks (although I suspect this may be from approaching the other way).  The road twisted its way out of town and it was not long before we were climbing through the jungle.  The gradients however were very pleasant, the air grew cooler and we were offered sweeping views of the jungle and mountains.  Perfect.  After a few km’s we stopped for a snack at a beautiful waterfall.  Then a local road cyclist gave us the ominous news that it would soon get very steep.  However, this did not really eventuate.  It did get slightly steeper, but not by much.  All in all it was a wonderful few hours of climbing and we would grade it easy to moderate.  Civil engineers appear to be alive and well in this country.

A nice spot for a break on the way up

Climbing

At Ringlet we stopped for a large lunch and several drinks.  It wasn’t until after I had eaten that I realised how tired I actually was.  A light rain had begun to fall and the temperature had dropped significantly.  We slowly began to pedal the remaining kilometers towards Tanah Rata, gratefully stopping at the Cameron Valley Tea House for sweeping views and cups of tea.  We reached Tanah Rata in the late afternoon, exhausted but very happy.  Wet, cold and full of sweat, we could not have been happier when we found that Kang’s Guesthouse had amazingly hot showers.  After five big days of cycling, it was time to relax, celebrate Astrid’s birthday and explore the highlands.

Tea Plantations

more tea!

A much needed break!

The drinking of tea

Love

Jude

Tired, stinky, happy. A hot shower awaits!

Fisherman on the waters between Singapore and Malaysia

It was still dark when the alarm pulled us from sleep.  Departure day.  The excitement that crept though me was only slightly marred by concerns about my knee.  After a month of rest and short rides, would it survive the cycle to Pontian Kecil, one border crossing and 100-plus kilometres away?  I would soon see.  We shared a pot of tea waiting for dawn to arrive and with it came a morning of endless rain.  Cars and buses packed the wet streets of Singapore and we weaved our way through the traffic and suburbs.  Endless rain fell on endless high-rises. 

Sharing an early morning cup of tea with Kristel

Endless highrises

 After two hours we reached the northern bridge that joins Singapore to Malaysia.   Looking like drowned cats and wet through to our underwear, we pulled up to the Woodlands checkpoint.  With a smile and a stamp we were out of Singapore.  Pedalling over the bridge we passed hundreds of cars, sitting bumper to bumper not moving, and I again smiled at the ease and freedom of cycling.  I was a little worried that on the Malaysian side they would take one look at us and send us back.  But with a smile, a joke about rain in Singapore and a stamp, we were granted a 3-month Malaysian visa and were on our way.  Why can’t all border crossings be this easy (and cheap)?

Jude and the ladies after we had crossed into Malaysia, with the bridge and Singapore in the background

 The previous evening I had written down instructions from Google Maps on how to get from Singapore to Pontian Kecil.  Only highways led out of Johor Bahru, so we joined the speeding traffic and followed the flow.  We stopped for a quick bite along the waterfront and discovered that Johor Bahru should be the sister city of Kingston S.E. in South Australia, as both have big lobster statues.  Everything was going smoothly until we hit an E road.  For those planning on cycling in Malaysia, there is no cycling on E roads.  Luckily our Singapore internet access was active in Malaysia and using our smart phone we were able to navigate the suburban streets until we hit Highway 5. 

Jude and the Big Lobster

 The highway provided an initiation to scenery that would become our backdrop for the next month.  Cars and trucks zooming passed on roads surrounded by palm plantations, double-story shop fronts and suburban looking towns.  The contrast with where we had been in Indonesia was stark.  The lack of rice paddies, the abundance of space, more cars/less scooters, less make shift businesses and way fewer people.  That section of Highway 5 was also home to a Pineapple Museum.  How could we say no?  I think the guy who sold the tickets thought I was joking when I asked if we could enter.  We spent the next hour meandering through 5 rooms of all the information you could ever want about pineapple farming and canning.  It was so 80’s and awesome.  If only they sold pineapples to eat after the tour…

Pineapple museum anyone?

Pineapple paraphernalia of awesome.

 It was late in the afternoon when we arrived at Pontian Kecil.  We sat on the breakwater and looked out to sea trying to determine where the horizon was.  Haze from palm plantation burning in Sumatra causes the air to be as greyish as the sea.  After a celebratory ice-cream we looked around for a place to stay, but the prices were well above our budget.  We decided to camp and rode along the coast until we found a place to pitch our home.  The Malaysians are very relaxed about foreigners and it was great not to have the ‘watchers’ here.  That night we were lulled to sleep by the sound of lapping water and a guy singing karaoke in his living room.  

Pontian Kecil is surrounded by small fishing villages

Sneaky camping our first night in Malaysia.

 That first morning in Malaysia, I woke early and watched the rising sun colour the clouds overhead.  We had decided that Malacca was to be our first major destination in Malaysia, therefore we cycled northwards on Highway 5 with the Straits of Malacca to our left.  It was great to be on the bikes again.  As the kilometres passed, we fell into the old rhythm.  Legs pumping, big smiles, sweat pouring due to the crazy hot weather, scenery flying by and loving every minute.  That day we were to experience our first taste of Malaysian hospitality and kindness.  As we were cresting a rise, a guy riding a scooter pulled up to gift us two large bottles of cold water as he had seen us riding by and thought we would need some.  So lovely!  That evening we turned down a side road and found a palm plantation to set up home in.   After a stove and fire fail, we ate lukewarm 2-minute noodles for dinner and settled into an evening of watching Spooks.  We are so suburban.

The never ending same scenery.

We found some pineapple!

Howard’s awesome place.

Our room of amazingness.

 Malaysian kindness continued the next morning, when our breakfast was paid for by another diner.  He welcomed us to his village and wished us a safe and happy journey.  Glowing with gratitude, we covered the remaining 70kms to Malacca before lunch.  At a tree sheltered food stall we feasted on local delicacies and I knew that we were now in foodie heaven.  We navigated our way through the myriad of one-way streets to meet Howard our Warm Showers host.  Howard is a vivacious and friendly guy who owns a backpackers in town, and his place became our home away from home.  That evening we shared in a communal barbeque where we exchanged travel stories over glasses of local vodka until the early hours of the morning.

Celebrating our arrival in Malacca

The city square.

Street scapes

The fabulously vibrant ricshaws.

 Malacca is a vibrant city and we lost ourselves for many days in the fusion of food, architecture, history and culture that surrounded us.  The locals are very proud of the broad diversity of influences on their city: Malay, Chinese, Dutch and Tamil.  Everyday was a new culinary experience.  We filled ourselves with a variety of laksas, dim sum, curries and tandoori, pineapple tarts, kuay teow and the famous cendol dessert.  We roamed the city exploring the brightly coloured chinese temples, the mosques, the colonial architecture, the Pernakian houses filled with Baba and Nonya cultural artefacts, and the art galleries and antique shops.  We strolled along the Malacca River admiring the architecture and street art that lined the banks.  We sought refuge from the heat and the monsoonal rain in funky little cafés where we drank coffee and read books.  Life was simple and relaxing, and we loved every moment.

Street art along the Malacca River

River walk

Pernakian architecture.

Despite Howard’s wonderful hospitality and insistence that we should stay for even longer, we finally had to hit the road as I wished to spend my birthday in the Cameron Highlands.  So with the taste of great food on my lips, I wish you all a wonderful day and all my love as always.

Astrid xx

Howard fixing his bike

Chinese temples

Laksa anyone?

Cendol anyone?

Cafe time

Jonker night market