The boat docked at a small local ferry terminal and a cheeky grin crept up on my face. I felt a rush of potential, for the new from the old, having had but a taste of the experiences that lie ahead. (As my sister once put it to me while travelling the world many years ago, ‘potential’ is a great word as it can describe the physical as well as the metaphysical). I was relieved to get out of Singapore. Dragging my bicycle off the small ferry, I loaded all the bags onto it, tied them all down with bungy cords and greeted another official fenced in a small cubicle. After a serious stare, followed by a few concerning looks, then a whack on the table with his fist, I had a new visa stamp to add to the collection. Within about 20 minutes after arriving in Malaysia, I found myself riding out of the ferry terminal along a small and well worn local road.
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| From Malaysia |
The land was dry, the air hot and the sky a beautiful blue. There was little traffic and as, I ventured along this winding road, I reminded myself to leave my expectations behind. The signposts were few and, as I navigated largely on gut feeling, I’d stop every few hours to ask the locals. What I enjoyed most about the first few days in Malaysia was being on the open road again and not knowing what possibilities lay ahead. The little Bahasa I spoke in Indonesia helped, but I soon discovered I couldn’t communicate even the most basic of tasks. The dialect was different and the few common colloquial expressions I learnt in Indonesia got no response. I had to almost start again, from the beginning, with the “thank you” and “How much is ….?”. As I ventured along the east coast, the the roads got better, the people were few and the streets clean.
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| From Malaysia |
The east coast of the peninsula was less developed than the west and, as it turned out, was ideal for the travelling cyclist. Wide shoulders, open spaces, sunny skies and light wind on the back, I enjoyed being close to the coast, the smell of the salty sea air, and there was no problem finding beachside huts or abandoned buildings to camp in for the night. I cycled past troops of small monkeys lounging by the roadside, along stretches of palm tree lined sandy beaches, past seemingly endless palm plantations, through small fishing villages and over the occasional undulating hill. After being cooped up in Singapore for a month, it felt good to be back on the bike again in wide open spaces.
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| From Malaysia |
Malaysia is an interesting mix of people. There ares the native Malay who are mostly Muslim, the Chinese who are mostly Buddhist and the Indians who are predominately Hindu. The Indians arrived to work the rubber plantations as part of the British Empire, the Chinese came to capitalise on the booming trade and the result today is an interesting mix of cultures. It wouldn’t be unfair to say that the Malays control the government while the Chinese control the economy and the Indians work everything in between. A melting point of so many cultures made for a fascinating social mix. I could always find a cheap Malay rice dish for breakfast, a Chinese noodle soup for second breakfast and a heavy Indian naan for lunch! Thoughts of food always occupied my mind.
I usually spent the afternoon searching for signs of an evening thunderstorm and, when I found them, it was usually time to call it a day. It was much too hot for the tent and so I found shelter out of the rain most nights. I’d string the mosquito net up, lock my bike to a nearby post or tree and sleep soundly in the comfort of knowing I was going to stay dry. If I was lucky, sometimes I found a campsite where the cool ocean breeze would keep the heat at bay.
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