26 December - Hat Yai – Malaysia border –
Kuala Perlis – 110 km
Immediately after crossing the
Thailand/Malaysian border, the difference in countries was
clearly visible and Buddhist monasteries were
replaced
by mosques. Although Malaysia was a multicultural and a
multi-confessional country, the official religion was
Islam, and most women were conservatively dressed or wore
headscarves.
Ernest and I headed straight for the coast to
the small village of Kuala Perlis in the far north-western
corner of Malaysia. The Kuala Perlis jetty was the main
connecting point for Langkawi Island, and it was a beautiful
ride with majestic limestone hills in the background.
An interesting thing in Kuala Perlis was what
was known as the “Floating Mosque”. The mosque was built next to
the Kuala Perlis jetty and extended over the water with the
result at high tide it looked as if floating. It was also unique
in that the walls were adorned with corals and pebbles, all
making for a peaceful place to view the sunset over the Strait
of Malacca.
27-28 December - Kuala Perlis – Langkawi - By
ferry & 26 km cycling
From Kuala Perlis, a regular ferry ran to
Kuah Jetty on Langkawi Island, situated 30 kilometres off the
coast. I was looking forward to taking a break after racing for
the border to get out of Thailand before our visas expired, a
distance of 893 kilometres in seven days! It was no fun and not
what I considered cycle touring.
The scenery in Malaysia was, however,
straight out of a tourist brochure and once on Langkawi island,
it was a short 22-kilometre cycle to Pantai Cenang. Once again,
it was pricey, touristy and no beach hut, as imagined. The most
inexpensive accommodation was at a backpacker hostel across the
way from the beach. At least the island was duty-free, making
for a good party vibe which Ernest took full advantage of.
29 December - Langkawi Island – 90 km

In the morning, I packed up and moved on. It
was an enjoyable day exploring the island, but there wasn’t much
in the line of budget accommodation, and it was best to return
to Pantai Tengah, a short distance from our previous
accommodation.
The local ATM was out of cash, and it first
took cycling to the airport (20 kilometres away) to draw money
before settling into Zackary’s. Accommodation was hard to come
by, as it was school holidays and most places were packed with
Malay families from the big cities. The beach was also packed
with burka-clad ladies swimming entirely clothed; quite
something to see if you weren’t used to it.
30 December - Pantai Tengah Beach
Zackary’s was a relaxing place to hang out.
With its little pool and communal areas, guest kitchen and free
coffee, most guests sat around and hardly went anywhere.
There
was quite a sizeable duty-free shop down the road, selling cheap
beer (not something you find in other parts of Malaysia) and
most bought beers there and then sat around the pool shooting
the breeze. The day was spent relaxing on the beach, after which
I sat talking to the other guests at the guesthouse. Later that
evening, supper was at the Indian restaurant, then it was back
to Zackary’s for some more idle chatter.
31 December - Pantai Tengah Beach

Staying on at Zackary’s was easy as it was an
easy-going place, and so were the
guests. After borrowing Neil and Emma’s notebook charger, it was
good to discover it was only my charger, and not the laptop
itself, which was faulty.
As it was New Year’s Eve, a few beers were
consumed as the evening wore on. Most sat around until midnight,
wished each other happy New Year, and went on to wait for the
partial eclipse of the moon which occurred at about 3h00, with
the result it was 5h00 before going to bed.
1 January - Pantai Tengah Beach
Waking up not feeling too bright-eyed and
bushy-tailed didn’t come as a surprise, and we set off to the
Indian restaurant thinking spicy food may help. The roti canai
was delicious but did little for my headache. Back at Zachary’s,
the rest of the group also looked a bit worse for wear, and most
were lying around the pool nursing headaches.
2 January - Pantai Tengah Beach, Langkawi –
Alor Star (Alor Setar) – 72 km
With great reluctance, I packed the bike, had
a cup of coffee, ate the leftover bread, and waved the other
guests goodbye. Fortunately, it was only 22 kilometres
back to the ferry port. Once on the mainland, a coastal path ran
to Alor Setar which was much closer than expected. The route was
scenic and flat with the beach on the one side and backwaters on
the other.
The Comfort Motel in Alor Setar, across the
way from the beautiful Masjid Zahir, provided a room with bed
and shower and a place to wash cycling clothes. My search for a
Malaysian map was on in all earnest, but still to no avail.
While trying to find a charger for my laptop, I snapped a few
pics of the beautiful mosque, and although unsuccessful in
finding a charger, the food was intriguing as it was wrapped in
newspaper - some in a pyramid shape and others in a flat parcel.
Having no idea what was inside, it was a relief to find the one
containing fried noodles and the other one some very spicy rice.
Both were delicious.
3 January - Alor Star (Alor Setar)–
Georgetown, Penang Island – 130 km
The cup water heater which lived in my
panniers came in handy for making coffee after which the
leftover noodles from the previous night made for a good
breakfast.
Feeling remarkably energetic, and without a
map, I followed my nose along a small coastal road, only going
wrong a few times but nothing too serious. A torrential downpour
completely soaked me and then abruptly ended 10 kilometres down
the road. It felt stupid cycling down the road, with water
dripping off me on a path that hadn’t seen a drop of rain in
days.
The way was flat and ran through densely
forested areas and past Buddhist, Chinese and Hindu temples (it
was good to see old Ganesh again) and of course, the
ever-present mosques. What a multicultural society Malaysia was.
In Butterworth, it was easy to locate the
ferry terminal from where boats departed for the nearby island
of Penang. A short ferry ride on a very packed and crowded ferry
took passengers to historic Georgetown. From the ferry,
Georgetown appeared everything but historical as highrise
condominiums punctured the skyline as far as the eye could see.
The short cycle from the jetty to Love Lane Inn Hostel revealed
just why the Old Town is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
With Penang’s central location in the Strait of Malacca, it was
an essential stopover on the ancient trade route between Europe,
the Middle East, India and China. As the Strait of Melis located
on the crossing point of two monsoon seasons, ships couldn’t set
sail until the winds were favourable. With the result, Penang
became a diverse melting pot of cultures; a diversity which
remains until today. The streets were lined with
stalls, and one could feast on Malay, Indian and Chinese food.
One dish more delicious than the other.
Lo and behold, would Neil and Emma (met at
Zackary’s) not walk into the same hostel and it was good to see
them again.
4 January - Georgetown
What a fabulous place Georgetown turned out
to be. There were architectural styles from every corner of the
earth: Indian, Chinese, Arab, Malay, Burmese and even Victorian.
The most amazing was the railway station, a beautiful
neo-classical style building but without a railway line. What
were they thinking? The day was spent exploring the narrow
alleys and interesting Indian and Chinese quarters, complete
with the best Indian and
Chinese
food. Coming upon Chinese steamed rice buns, a charger for my
notebook, as well as a new SIM card for the phone, made it a
good day.
5 January - Georgetown
It was no wonder Georgetown was declared a
UNESCO World Heritage Site, as the old quarters with all its old
Chinese shophouses, ornate temples and narrow alleys was a
potpourri of nationalities, building styles and food. Another
day was spent wandering and eating from roadside stalls in
Little India and Little China. A walk took me past Fort
Cornwallis, built by the British East Indian Company in the late
18th century, past the Sri Mariamman Temple, an ornate Hindu
temple built in 1883, and past the Clan Jetties dating back to
1882. Still, I walked, past Masjid Kapitan Keling, constructed
by the first Indian-Muslim settlers, and eventually landing up
back at the food stalls close to the Love Lane Inn Hostel.
6 January - Georgetown – Taiping – 115 km
Leaving Georgetown, I didn’t take the ferry
back to the mainland but instead continued over the Penang
Bridge, a rather impressive 13.5-kilometre-long bridge linking
the island with Butterworth. It was easily the longest bridge
I’ve ever cycled across. Once on the mainland, the path headed
south past mangrove swamps and bird sanctuaries. It was
beautifully lush and densely forested, a reminder that Malaysia
was indeed in the tropics.
A
most severe monsoon storm rolled in, complete with lightning and
roaring thunder. While taking shelter at a roadside food stall
with just a rickety umbrella for cover, the lady from the stall
proceeded to feed me endlessly. Huddled together, we waited for
the worst to blow over.
Once the rain subsided, it was on to Taiping
with a full belly. The Malay people are very hospitable, and on
asking a man on a motorbike where to find accommodation, he
escorted me to a local joint with reasonably-priced rooms. At
the hotel, the staff were very accommodating and allowed the use
of their washing machine. It was surprising they even let me in
as I was dripping pools of water all over their squeaky clean
tiles.
Taiping is known for its well-preserved
colonial architecture, and there were indeed a few. The local
zoo was my attraction of choice as one could visit the zoo at
night, and it was fun walking along, listening to the chewing
and snorting of animals in the pitch dark.
7 January - Taiping to Ipoh – 88 km
Another excellent day was spent on the road,
without any of the thunderstorms of the previous day. The route
was scenic, making for an enjoyable ride. Although Malaysia was
expensive (compared to the rest of Southeast Asia), one could
still find inexpensive meals. All one had to do was look out for
the places where truck drivers took their meals. On spotting a
few trucks parked in front of a “Dhaba” I was served a delicious
curried pineapple and rice meal.
Meeting a fellow cycle tourer made for a
welcome break. He was on a somewhat
loaded bike and seemed to have carried everything, as well as
the proverbial kitchen sink, with him.
The big meal made for lazy cycling, and Ipoh
lured me in where a guesthouse in the old town, amidst colonial
architecture and a short walk from the magnificent old train
station, was perfect for the night.
The notebook finally packed up, and mad at
the darn thing, I went to the shop and bought a new one. I’m
quite sure one could have had it fixed but I lacked the patience
for such things and couldn’t even come up with anything to
justify such an irresponsible spending spree. But that’s the way
I roll.
8 January - Ipoh – Tapah – 58 km
It was an unbelievably spectacular day with
some very ornate cave temples. Tapah was the turnoff for the
Cameron Highlands, and although it was only about 60 kilometres
to the Highlands, everyone had warned it was a steep uphill. I,
therefore, decided to stay in Tapah for the night and start the
climb in the morning.
9 January - Tapah – Tanah Rata (Cameron
Highlands) – 60 km
The ride to the Cameron Highlands was a
super, super, stunning day. Although it was uphill all the way,
nothing came of the severe climb warned about. It was said to
be a 1000-metre climb, but I wasn’t convinced of that. The route
twisted and turned through dense forests, past waterfalls and
past vast tea plantations clinging to the
mountainside. After reading what others had
to say, I expected quite a steep climb but, in the end, it was
nothing like the hills in China. Saying that doesn’t mean it
wasn’t uphill.
From Ringlet to Tanah Rata took about an hour
and a half and I made it just before a storm came in. A good day
all in all. In general, I seldom read or listen to what others
say about a route and much prefer to find out for myself.
Mostly, my hard-headedness comes back to bite me in the ass but,
in a way, it adds to the little adventure left in life.
10 January - Tanah Rata
Nothing came of my intended forest walk;
instead, I somehow managed to do nothing all day. Kang Lodge was
comfortable and reasonably priced, and
a convenient place to hang around. The people from tiny Tanah
Rata were relaxed and pleasant and,
coupled with a beautiful setting, it was the perfect place for
relaxing and doing as little as possible. The
residence
also informed me there was indeed a motorway via Gua Musang to
Taman Negara National Park. My map didn’t show any routes and I
didn’t know what to expect. Other cyclists who had cycled the
route before reported a lack of facilities and said they had to
wild camp. With no stove in my possession, I loaded up with a
loaf of bread, cheese slices and a jar of peanut butter.
11 January - Tanah Rata – Gua Musang – 130 km
Loaded with a loaf of bread, peanut butter
and biscuits, I left Tanah Rata and soon found myself on a
lovely smooth, wide road with a roomy shoulder. It was hard to
believe such a substantial route wasn’t indicated on the map.
After a short climb came a downhill of about 10 kilometres and,
feeling reckless, I flew down the hill at high speed, panniers
flapping in the breeze. The rest of the day was spent crawling
up hills at 6km/h and flying down at 50km/h.
Again, it was a day of magnificent scenery
with dense forests lining both sides of the road. Logging was
alive and well in Malaysia at the time, and there were many
large trucks loaded with huge logs. It’s entirely possible the
forest won’t be there much longer. Logging could also be the
reason why the route wasn’t indicated on the map. It might even
have been a new road, or it could have been the authorities
didn’t want people to see the chopping down of the rainforest.
The area wasn’t as wild as expected, and
although there were a few potential wild campsites, it was still
too early for camping and I continued until reaching the small
railway town of Gua Musang. It was a fair-sized town with
hotels, shops, markets and alike. Somewhat disappointed at the
lack of wilderness (as I had my loaf of bread and jar of peanut
butter, hahaha), I located accommodation and enjoyed a lovely
hot shower. Although the room was pricey, it came with a TV and
even Wi-Fi - hardly the wilderness envisaged. This was, after
all, well-organised Malaysia.
12 January - Gua Musang – Kuala Lipis – 121
km
The following day, the route led further
south past
Pulai, an old gold mining area, and although there was no
wilderness left, a good few hills remained.
It took pedalling like the clappers down the hills to try and
make it up the other side without having to
gear right down, but alas, it didn’t work. With a loaded bike,
one lost momentum as soon as there was the slightest of incline.
Anyone watching from afar must
have thought, “What is that woman on about?” At least no one
could accuse me of not trying. Up and down the road went until
encountering the mother of all hills halfway to Kuala Lipis. In
the space of five kilometres, there were seven broken-down
trucks, a clear indication of the severity of the gradient.
The road followed the boundary of the
National Park, and it was, therefore, very scenic, complete with
monkeys and small alligators or were they monitor lizards? It
was rainforest area and very humid; with the result, one sweated
buckets slaving up the hills. Most of the forest had sadly been
cut down to make way for rubber and palm oil plantations.
Kuala Lipis, tucked away in the corner of
rainforest reserves and plantations, came just at the right time
as my legs felt rather tired. A hotel in Kula Lipis provided
air-con and the much longed-for shower. Then it was off to find
roti canai (roti with dhal and potato curry) or nasi goring
(fried noodles), my two favourite dishes.
13 January - Kuala Lipis – Jerantut – 61 km
My map was utterly useless, and one could
just as well have dumped the silly thing.
The
distance between Kuala Lipis and Jerantut looked just a little
shorter than the previous days, but (thankfully) it was only 61
kilometres. The hills were even steeper and more frequent than
the earlier days, but at least it was a short day. A roadside
stall provided my favourite snack of roti canai.
A roadside stop always came with the same
comments: “You’re alone?” Normally asked in amazement. “How old
are you?” Even more amazement if you tell them and, “Where are
you from?” usually followed by “But you aren’t black”. Truck
drivers often stopped to offer lifts and were just as astounded
when their offer was declined. This day was no different, and
the truck driver assured me he was going to Jerantut anyway and
there were many hills still to come. He couldn’t understand why
I didn’t want to make use of his offer.
On arrival in the small village of Jerantut,
and after locating a plate of nasi goring, I went in
search of info on Taman Negara National Park.
14 January - Jerantut – Kuala Tahan – 71 km
At first, the idea was to leave the bike and
panniers in Jerantut and take the river ferry to Kuala Tahan.
There, however, seemed a good enough way leading to Kuala Tahan
and I did what I was used to doing. It was far more convenient
that way, instead of only a small daypack with essential items.
Another reason was to get the opportunity to
experience the forest first-hand, but the route was a bit
disappointing as most of the way was past palm oil plantations.
It
was difficult to conjure up any sympathy for a loaded logging
truck which had careered off the road. It was, nevertheless, a
beautiful ride and closer to Kuala Tahan the real forest
started.
The Taman Negara forest is said to be over
130 million years old, and I was eager to explore. Upon arrival,
a night walk into the woods was available but, once again, it
was a little disappointing as the trail was along a walkway and
could hardly be called a jungle. Africans are spoiled as, in
Africa, there are still many real wild places and wildlife.
There was nothing I couldn’t have seen in my own garden at night
back home. Still, it was lovely walking in the dark, listening
to the night sounds and smelling the wet and damp forest.
15 January - Kuala Tahan (Taman Negara
National Park)
It was very tempting to do the three-day trek
into the inner jungle, but after the
many
disappointments, packed my little daypack with the peanut butter
sandwiches (hee-hee-hee), water, a raincoat and set off - map in
hand to explore the jungle on my own.
The touristy walkway led me away from Kuala
Tahan, and I soon found myself alone heading up the mountain on
a much less-travelled path. The forest was dead quiet with only
the occasional chirp of a cricket or the call of the colourful
pheasants to remind me I wasn’t all alone. Needless to say, it
was sweltering and humid, but I continued up the mountain until
the path reached the top from where there were lovely views over
the surrounding forests.
Most of the day was spent wandering around
the dense forest until it was time to head back, catch the ferry
back across the river, and find food.
16 January - Kuala Tahan (Taman Negara
National Park)
It was terrific to do absolutely nothing the
entire day. The plan was to take the ferry back to Jerantut
instead of cycling back the same way and, therefore, have the
opportunity to experience the river trip. The boat departed at 9
a.m. the next morning and saved me having to backtrack the 70
kilometres to Jerantut, something that was always a drag.
17 January - Kuala Tahan (Taman Negara
National Park) – Jerantut - By boat (+20km from the boat jetty
to town)
After a breakfast of Nasi Lemak, and
together with other travellers, the boat headed
back
to Jerantut. It was a most scenic ride through the dense forest
back to the Tembeling boat jetty. Once there, every one helped
to get the bike and panniers off the boat and up the stairs.
People were incredibly kind, and then it was back on the hilly
road to Jerantut.
Jerantut was an excellent place to stock up
on essentials, i.e. coffee, noodles and soup. Stinginess made me
buy the cheapest 3-in-1 coffee sachets available. Back in my
room, and on closer inspection, it turned out not to be coffee
but, wait for this……. tea. Have you ever heard of such a thing?
Instant tea? How much more instant can one get than a tea bag?
Well, there it was, powdered tea with pre-added milk and sugar.
I thought it sacrilege to drink instant tea so close to the
Cameron Highlands, well known for its excellent tea.
18 January - Jerantut – Maran – 90 km
After a cup of instant tea, the path headed
due east, and what an awesome day of
cycling it turned out. The route was scenic, with hardly any
cars, and the weather perfect.

I must have looked or smelled really
unpleasant, as even the village dogs took to their heels. They
ran for their lives, never looking back until they were safely
behind the gates at their homes.
It was a relatively short ride to Maran and
the famous Sri Marathandavar Aalayam Hindu Temple. It is said
the name of the temple literally means “crossing the tree”. The
tree mentioned in the name refers to the sacred Rudraksha tree.
The Rudraksha seed is traditionally used as prayer beads in
Hinduism and is associated with the eye of Lord Shiva. The bead
is also often used as a holy talisman, as it is believed it can
transform negative energy into positive energy. Rudraksha beads
are also seen being worn by the yogis in India.
I was told, about 120 years ago, a road was
built from Kuala Lumpur to Kuantan,
and in the process, many trees were felled. As this
particular tree was being cut, the tree began
to bleed, as if wounded. Legend has it,
many
workers saw the bleeding and one worker went into a trance. The
workers asked the supervisor to spare the tree, but the British
supervisor refused. A child suddenly appeared on the trunk of
the tree and miraculously disappeared into the tree. The
supervisor was dumbfounded (as can be imagined) and agreed the
tree be spared.
Afterwards, the tree became sacred, and
although the tree is now dead, the remains of the tree are
preserved in the temple.
Threatening clouds made me opt for
accommodation in Maran, with a lovely view of the golf course.
Nothing came of the threatening clouds, but it was still a good
excuse for spending so much money on accommodation. At least
there was a cheap roti shop around the corner where one could
gorge yourself.
19 January - Maran – Pekan - 110 km
Wildlife photographers must surely have Job’s
patience, as after trying to take a few
pictures of the birdlife on the golf course,
I gave up and instead stuck to cycling.
The lush vegetation continued, and there was
plenty of life along the road: monkeys, ducks and birds
abounded, there were even a few resorts, all looking very nice
with wooden chalets, and some also offered camping.
Malaysia is such a multicultural country -
the day before was a distinctly Indian day with many Hindu
temples and Indian food. This day, however, was more a Chinese
day with Chinese temples and Chinese food. It was hard to cycle
past the steamed buns without stopping and bagging some for the
road.
On reaching the east coast at Pekan, it was
time to find a hotel as the map didn't indicate any other
facilities near Pekan. The map was rather useless, and it didn’t
mean there wasn’t any in the area. Besides, Pekan was scenic,
had a lovely central square,
and was where the Sungai Pahang, the longest river in Peninsular
Malaysia, flowed into the South China Sea.
20 January - Pekan – Rompin - 117 km
The road hugged the coastline and, from time
to time, ran flush next to the ocean,
and
at other times it headed inland through the forest. Again, it
was a day it felt it was only the many troops of monkeys and me
in the wet and watery jungle. I loved Malaysia.
Turning off to explore the beaches revealed a
fantastic Beach and Golf Resort but a bit too pricey for me.
Then it was back on the bike and on to Rompin,
where one could find more affordable accommodation. A lack of
food left me starving and sent me rushing off to the market,
where I felt hungry enough to devourer the spices. With the
result, I came away with more food than any human could possibly
eat in a day, let alone for supper.
21 January 2010 - Rompin – Mersing - 62 km
It was a slow and lazy start to the day for
the short cycle to Mersing, stopping along the way for a bite to
eat. Afterwards, I was convinced there was meat in the dish, but
in Malaysia, you never knew for sure what ingredients were in
the food.
The coastal town of Mersing was the
jumping-off point for ferries to Tioman. It was too late for the
last boat and better to take a room at the Hotel Embassy, a
short walk from the ornate Hindu temple Sri Subramaniam. After a
visit to the temple, it was back to the ferry office to purchase
a ferry ticket (RM35 one way) for the next day.
22-24 January - Mersing – Tioman Island - By
ferry
The ferry didn’t depart until 11h30 and,
after paying a further RM10 for the bike, the boat sped across
the ocean, and in less than two
hours arrived at the idyllic tropical island
of Tioman. The ferry stopped at various locations on the island,
but I disembarked at Tekek,
the
main
village. In no time at all, I had a bungalow on the beach and
could sit and watch the waves roll in, right to my doorstep. It
was out of season, and one could negotiate a reasonable rate. It
was rather quiet with very few visitors and, therefore, just me,
the beach and my hammock, which was absolutely glorious.
It was easy to stay the next day and to do as
little as possible, except for sipping a tax-free beer and
watching the ocean. By the 24th I got off my backside
and walked (with Niklas and Benedikte whom I met on the ferry to
Tioman) over the mountain to the other side of the island where
we’d a light lunch. It was a lovely walk through dense forests
and past high waterfalls - even spotting a few monkeys.
25 January - Tioman Island – Mersing (return
ferry trip)
It was time to leave the island and get back
to business. Once again, the ferry was to depart at 11h00, but
it was much later by the time it finally left.
Arriving at Mersing, Ernest was at the boat
terminal, claiming it was a pure coincidence he was there. He
was looking a bit worse for wear after a month travelling around
Malaysia with hardly any money. After taking pity on him he was
invited to share my digs where he could have a shower, do
laundry, and sleep on a bed. He scored heaps of food, a new
saddle, as well as a rear tyre for his bike, as he had been
cycling on a tyre sewn up with fishing line for the past four
days.
26 January – Mersing

The previous day, I’d already noticed
Ernest’s feet and ankles were unusually swollen, perhaps from
malnutrition as he claimed he’d been living off rice for the
past few weeks. On this particular morning, I thought it might
be Elephantitus, and it got worse as the day progressed. He was
fed multi-vitamins and all the takeaway food he could eat.
The following day was also spent in Mersing,
allowing Ernest to pay some attention to his bike and health. In
the meantime, I bought myself a new saddle, as the old one had
seen better days - hoping this one wasn’t going to be a pain in
the butt.
27 January - Mersing – Kota Tinggi – 95 km
Ernest’s
legs seemed much better, the swelling had gone down, and he
appeared nearly normal. It was back to playing the waiting game
as Ernest was always notoriously slow in the mornings. From
Mersing, an undulating route headed south towards Singapore past
palm oil plantations, with a few interesting bits and pieces.
The rain made for taking cover a few times, a perfect excuse for
a sweet cup of tea from a roadside stall.
Although my new saddle was reasonably
comfortable, my backside was still sore. In Kota Tinggi, a
32-ringette room provided air-con and hot water. Utterly
ravenous, due to a lack off breakfast, it was a rush for the
food stalls. It was a Chinese community, and there were plenty
of Chinese rice buns and Chinese food, something that was always
delicious and a very likely place to find vegetarian food.
28
January - Kota Tinggi – Kampong Rengit – 84 km
Once again, it was already 11h00 by the time
Ernest was ready, and I wondered if cycling together was worth
the effort. A few times the rain came down so hard it forced us
to find shelter at the local bus and taxi stands - at least the
road was in excellent condition. It was a leisurely cycle as
there was no rush at all. In the process of looking for a
camping spot, we found ourselves in the seaside village of
Rengit, where I opted for a room. Rengit was located at the most
south-eastern point of Malaysia, close to Singapore where the
plan was to go the next morning. Everything in Malaysia seemed
oversized, including the bananas (called pisang), ants and
cockroaches.
29 January - Rengit – Singapore – 55 km
It was a short 17-kilometre scenic cycle
along the South China Sea to the ferry port where the regular
ferry didn’t take bicycles. The only other option was to wait
for the “Bum-Boat”. The “Bum-Boat” only left when there were 12
passengers (or bums) aboard – but it was much cheaper
than the regular ferry. The slow boat took nearly an hour to
cross the straits of Johor, and we, therefore, technically
arrived in Singapore before leaving Malaysia. All that was
required for a 30-day stay in Singapore was a stamp in the
passport.
From the ferry port to the city centre a
scenic cycle path ran through parklands and along the coast
where there were great camping spots but, unfortunately, it
wasn’t for foreigners. En route to the city centre, we took a
wrong turn into the expressway tunnel somewhere under the city.
The traffic police were quick to spot the mistake and loaded us
up and dropped us a good distance away from the forbidden route.
In Singapore, the many rules are strictly enforced, and we were
lucky not to be fined.
With all the shunting back and forth we’d no
idea how to find the suburb of Little India but managed in the
end. Gosh, how expensive things were. The search for a budget
room was on, but there was none to be had, and by 20h00, it was
best to settle for the least expensive one. Starving, the Indian
restaurant downstairs was the perfect place and suddenly the
price didn’t matter.
30 January – Singapore
The day was spent exploring the city, but the
Singapore dollar was too strong to buy anything. Even electronic
goods weren’t as well
priced
as expected, and I suspected one could find the same items for
less in Malaysia. The city was large and modern to such an
extent it was rather soulless, just another big bustling city
with a large harbour, busy airport, flashy shopping malls and
busy boulevards. High-rise buildings dominated the skyline, and
even Little India seemed far too organised.
The Singaporeans were busy people who all
seemed to be in a hurry. Of course, with all the electronic
devices one could imagine, stuck to their ears. There was no
shortage of designer stores and fancy eateries of which we’d no
use for. Around just about every corner, one could find
McDonald's, KFC and 7-Eleven. The name “Little America” wouldn’t
have been inappropriate for the city.
I felt Singapore was overrated and way too
expensive, and it was time to get out in a hurry, i.e. the
following day, making it the official shortest time I’ve spent
in any country. On the other hand, Singapore wasn’t so much a
country as a vast city and, in fact, it may be more correct to
say it was the smallest country I’ve cycled through. Everyone
must decide for themselves, and often my views of a place or
state had much to do with my own moods, the weather or company.
On a second visit, it could be precisely the opposite of what
one had experienced the previous time.
31 January - Singapore – Pontian Kecil - 103
km
After a rather expensive two-day excursion to
Singapore, we beat a hasty retreat to Malaysia, and it was easy
cycling through the suburbs,
and to the north of the island. It was Sunday morning, and loads
of cyclists were out on the road, all wanting to have a chat on
the move – one guy even thought one could cycle the 250 plus
kilometres to Melaka that day. Perhaps he overestimated his
pace, or, more likely, he’s never been to Melaka on a mountain
bike carrying 45 kilograms and, at the same time, enjoying the
countryside.
The border crossing between Singapore and
Malaysia was the largest, most sophisticated, and busiest
immigration checkpoint visited thus far.
After clearing out of Singapore, it was a
quick stamp into Malaysia and then north through the
ever-growing city of Johor Bahru. The route led along the
Straits of Johor and continued along the west coast of Malaysia.
The seaside town of Pontian Kecil made for an excellent place to
bunk down for the night.
1 February - Pontian Kecil Batu Pahat – 81 km
The route between Pontian Kecil and Batu
Pahat turned into another extraordinary day. Penny and Keng, two
Malaysians we met in Iran nearly two years previously,
drove south looking for us and then proceeded
to pay for lunch.

On reaching Batu Pahat, we were escorted to
Penny’s sister’s unoccupied but fully furnished apartment. It
was a luxury condo with all the mod cons, a soft bed and hot
shower making me feel like the queen of Malaysia. That evening,
the family treated us to a “steamboat”, where one could sit
around a steaming pot of soup and cook your own food, much like
fondue, but instead of cheese or oil, it was soup and incredibly
delicious.
2-3 February - Batu Pahat
There was no end to Penny and Keng’s
generosity. They fed us and took us to the local bike shop and
temple, and we literally had to refuse to eat anymore. In no
time at all, however, it was dinner time, and we ate and drank
again.
The following day was also spent in Batu
Pahat, mostly lying on the sofa (with rather full bellies),
while watching movies - something not done in the past three
years.
4 February - Batu Pahat – Melaka - 108 km
The
most fun part was Penny deciding to join in on the ride to
Melaka and arrived early morning on her brother-in-law’s bike.
Setting off at a leisurely pace, the route was flat but still an
incredibly long way for a non-cyclist. Penny hung in and cycled
all 108 kilometres to Melaka. She became officially known as the
Iron Lady. Keng (who was at flying school in Melaka) cycled out
to Muar to meet us on a strange-looking bike he borrowed from a
friend.
On arriving in Melaka old town, Penny was
tired and terribly sunburned, but still in high spirit. Keng,
who knew the place like the back of his hand, took us to an
Indian restaurant which served some of the most delicious Indian
food outside India. Thanks, Keng.
5 February – Malacca
The following day was spent exploring
picturesque Melaka and visiting a few of the
historic sites. Melaka had a blend of
Portuguese, Dutch and Chinese architecture. Melaka was even more
colourful than usual as it was close to Chinese New Year, and
everyone was frantically preparing for the festivities.
Houses
were being scrubbed and cleaned and new decorations put up. The
streets and shops were adorned with red Chinese lanterns,
dragons and lion heads. The shops were stocked with all kinds of
exotic foodstuff, as food is very much at the centre of the
Chinese New Year celebrations.
6 February - Melaka – Port Dickson - 84 km
It was time to load the bikes and leave our
friends and our luxury life behind. Most of the day was spent
cycling along the coast and, just before Port Dickson, a camping
area made for a convenient overnight stay. It was on the beach
with plenty of trees, a toilet and a shower, and it was free.
This euphoria didn’t last long and while
pitching the tent, I must have stood on a fire-ant nest. On
realising what was happening, it was already too late. With
feet, hands and underarms feeling like it was on fire, I did the
equivalent of a very poor breakdance while sweating profusely
and at the same time having cold shivers. What a scary
experience. Fortunately, Ernest still had some antihistamine
tablets and after an hour or so the itching and burning
subsided.
7 February - Port Dickson – Banting - 109 km
It was once again 11h00 before leaving and
another short day with plenty of small fishing villages. Once or
twice, it rained so hard it was safer to wait it out, making for
a late arrival in Banting. Drenched, the first budget lodging
became home for the night, only to find it infested with
bedbugs!
8 February - Banting – Kuala Lumpur - 67 km

I expected to battle through heavy traffic
into Kuala Lumper but it was a shorter ride than expected, and
came with a dedicated bicycle/motorcycle path leading right into
the city centre. The route followed the freeway and came
complete with its own road signs. What a pleasure it was.
China Town was known for its budget
accommodation, and it didn’t take long before finding budget
accommodation without bedbugs or ants.
9-10 February - Kuala Lumpur
The reason for visiting Kuala Lumpur wasn’t
only to see the capital but also to apply for an Indonesian
visa. The following morning it was off to the embassy, using the
KL Monorail for most of the way. Unfortunately, I was only given
a one-month visa instead of the two expected, apparently one
could extend it once there. It was costly at RM170, but at
least
it was quick, and one could pick it up the same day. Ernest
couldn’t enter the embassy, as he was wearing shorts which was
seen as disrespectful. Indonesia was a conservative Muslim
country and he had to return to the embassy the following day in
more appropriate attire.
11 February - Kuala Lumpur – Port Dickson –
95 km
With Indonesian visas stamped in our
passports, it was time to head out of the big city and back to
Melaka from where ferries ran to Indonesia. It was easy cycling
and, on reaching our former campsite outside Port Dickson, set
up camp under the trees next to the beach. This time taking
more care where the tent was pitched, as my experience with the
fire-ants from a few days before was still fresh in my memory.
I was content just sitting and watching the
sun set over the Straits of Malacca. It was boiling hot even
after sunset and my tent felt like a sauna. Shortly after laying
down, a damp spray was felt and I thought it had started raining
but, to my horror, discovered the camp’s tomcat had sprayed
through the door netting onto my head. It wasn’t funny.
12-14 February - Port Dickson – Melaka – 82
km

It was another short days’ biking into
Malacca
and it appeared to be getting hotter by the day. The dorm at the
Sama-Sama annexe was, however, well ventilated and spacious and
came complete with mosquito nets.
This was the day of the Chinese New Year, a
very colourful time of year with thousands of red lanterns
decorating the streets and houses. Firecrackers went off until
late in the night but still didn’t come close to an Indian
cricket match. The alleys were packed with people and stalls. By
then, curry laksa (a curry noodle soup) was discovered -
something that remained a favourite of mine.
15 February – Malacca, Malaysia – Dumai,
Indonesia - By ferry (plus some cycling)
Melaka was rather slow to wake from the
Chinese New Year celebrations, and no one was sure if the ferry
to Indonesia was even running. Time to move on, however, and it
was a short cycle to the ferry jetty. Local advice informed to
take the second ferry as the first one was usually
choc-and-block full, whilst the second one was often half empty.
The ferry ride took about 2.5 hours and, voila, there I was in a
new country – Sumatra Island, Indonesia. |