So it appears that it is becoming increasingly harder to keep up to date with this little bloggity blog, but never fear, there are not many left to come as my trip is slowly coming to an end. I'm currently back in Singapore, where I have, as luck would have it, met up with Fin once again. He is probably not so thrilled.
Where did I leave off? Ohhhh yes yes, we had waved goodbye to Kuala Lumpur. Well, I'm going to really condense this because the bulk of the Malaysia trip was spent eating many, many fried things and curries, and I'm certain that no one is too interested in hearing about how many naan breads and rotis I've chomped through (it's an embarrassingly large number). We left KL for the Cameron Highlands on an incredibly luxurious coach and had a painful and windy four hour trip up into the mountains. We saw a lot of durians growing along the sides of the road but thank heavens that our couch was well protected from the perennial stink of SE Asia; there's a reason they're banned in so many hotels and public places. We reached the little town of Tanah Rata where we found our "guesthouse" lurking behind a derelict construction site. I used speech marks there because it more resembled a toilet block in a prison or mental institution than a place where paying customers come to while away a few nice days in the mountains. Needless to say, we dumped our stuff and got out of there pretty sharpish, on the hunt for dinner. Our couple of days in Highlands were predominantly spent planning how to avoid going back to the cell: we visited a delightful tea plantation, had a good old laugh with some Indian waiters, found a statue of some giant vegetables, spent several hours buying as little as possible in Starbucks, and had numerous photos taken with a Malaysian baby and his grandfather. All in a day's work.
The next stop on our Malaysian adventure was the glorious and beautiful town of Georgetown on Penang island. It is an absolute cracker, I tell you. All colonial cuteness and charm, and packed to the gills with incredible food and cafes. It boasts, in my scientific opinion, the densest population of Chinese temples in any town ever in life. They are all quite spectacular, so if you are lucky enough to witness my photo slideshow when I get back, prepare yourself for an entire section of Chinese temples. Maybe I'll provide some dim sum to help you get out the other side alive. Georgetown also has a wonderful funicular railway. It is quite well hidden, especially if you wait for 45 minutes at the wrong bus stop, but once you eventually make it, it is all worth it. We were lucky enough to have a lunatic for a bus driver on the way back, who zipped around the roads like he was on a Formula One track, and also not thinking twice about stopping off for a little snack on the way down, leaving a full bus of people waiting for him. I was annoyed until I realised he was eating Indian food, and then I commended him on his excellent choice of cuisine. In a nutshell, Georgetown is one of the most wonderful and delicious places I've ever been, so you should go there now!
Next stop: Langkawi island, a tropical paradise hiding unparalleled levels of bad service. The beach was stunning, so no bad words there, but we were staying in the 'Easy Hotel' (false advertising) which was anything but easy. We made a little complaint about the world's worst breakfast and from then on, fully expected to find some kind of dead animal lurking under the kid's duvets which graced our beds every night, so vicious were the stares we were being given by the staff. But what the heck, we spent a few beautiful days on the beach, swimming in the clear blue sea and hanging around in a French cafe, the owner of which seemed to think that everyone was just speaking in French, even when he was spoken to in English. He saw our looks of blatant confusion and gallantly ignored them, ploughing on in French until we just smiled and said 'oui' to whatever he said. We spent our last night there on the beach with a banana split and watching the sun go down. Clichéd? I couldn't care less!
Back in KL for one day, we did what all good tourists do and went to Ikea and Tesco. Our paths then parted ways: Sarah headed back to the Bodge and I went down to Melaka for a day. Melaka is another great little town, full of mad little shops and durian treats in all their glory. The hostel I stayed in was an absolute treat, the owner being a keen cyclist, and so I found myself back on a bike and cycling to a local night market, where me and my fellow hostel friends proceeded to eat almost everything we could get our hands on, including chicken on a stick. It was a classy affair.
Finally, I reached Singapore where I was met by Fin and a friend, Rosie, who was kind enough to let us crash on her floor. We've spent the last couple of days looking at the city from various heights (including the highest al fresco bar in the world), marvelling at the madness of Chinese New Year and weeping at the price of various commodities. It is bonkers.
Tomorrow I'm off to my last proper destination of Bali, where I will cleanse my chakra, do the downward facing dog and eat raw vegetables masquerading as delicious treats. Or maybe not.
Friday, 31 January 2014
Friday, 17 January 2014
Welcome to Kuala London
Here I am in Malaysia, truly Asia (that is the very catchy jungle which some genius from Malaysia Tourism office came up with). Let me tell you, Malaysia, truly Asia bears an uncanny resemblance to London, or at least Kuala Lumpur does. It's all concrete apartment blocks, big, shiny skyscrapers, busy roads and Topshop. Sadly, I still can't afford the latter-sob sob sob. The big difference, language aside, is that the people here are so darn tootin nice! Sorry to anyone who lives in London, but you are just not the friendliest of people to outsiders. Kuala Lumps, on the other hand, could not be nicer if it tried. We had been in the central station all of 5 minutes when a very pleasant young gent escorted us all the way to the monorail station and then paid for our tickets. His reasoning was that it was the prophet's birthday. Our reasoning was that he was simply a delightful person. Could it get any better than that? Normally not. But WAIT: there we were, in a very local Indian restaurant looking completely baffled by absolutely everything, when an old chap waved us over to sit with him. So we did. He then told us a lot of things which I'm sure were very interesting, but I could barely hear him, so I was just nodding and smiling which seemed more than sufficient. He trotted off after helping us order our very tasty lunch-served on a banana leaf-but as he left, he called over to us and told us lunch was on the house,simply because we were brave tourists who ventured into the gastronomic unknown. We suspect he paid for us, but whatever happened, it made us so very happy for the rest of the day! I've been inspired to pay for random people's lunches now when I go home, although I suspect that people in Braunschweig might just think I'm weird. Maybe I should be stealth about it. It would be a great excuse to wear a cape, like some kind of lunch-themed superhero.
Last night, after a day of walking all over the city, we indulged in a food tour (what else?). We took a train out to some random spot way out of the centre and waited for our guy, Charles, to come and pick us up. Well, we waited and waited, wondered, and waited, and sure enough, 15 minutes too late, a young guy screeched up in his car, sticking his tongue out at us. It transpired that Charles was a complete lad and genuinely nice guy. We drove around the suburbs of KL (well, he drove. Sarah and I were busy looking at the terrifyingly small gaps between us and neighbouring cars and ditches), stopping off in numerous places to sample local delicacies. My my my, Malaysia is a dreaaaammm when it comes to food: it has incredible Chinese and Indian food, as well as wonderful traditional Malay dishes. Every time we stopped, I had a little weep because everything was just so flippin delicious. Except durian, the so-called king of the fruits. It does NOT deserve that accolade because it is like eating death. Slimy, gooey, smelly death. Sarah likened it to a mushed up roast dinner, in both taste and texture. So to durian, I say a big fat NO. Other than that, it was a very amusing evening. Mainly because we were being driven around KL by a 3rd generation Indian wide boy.
Today was quite a change of scenery: we experienced the Thaipusam festival at the Batu Caves. If you haven't heard of it, look it up. It was bonkers. It's a Hindu festival celebrating the God of war (I think-we read about it this morning but my brain is quite tired right now) and consists mainly of something like 500,000 people hitting up the Batu Caves to watch men carrying GIGANTIC and elaborate, hmmmm, decorations, I guess you could say, 272 steps up into the caves. A lot of them have hooks attaching their own skin to the decorations, or they have things like lemons, limes, roses or leaves hooked onto their backs and metal rods through their lips. It sounds crazy-partly because it is- but I'm sure there is a great significance behind it all. It was absolutely amazing. We also witnessed a wild-haired man walking over swords that were held aloft, sort of like a floating and moving footpath. A sharp footpath made of SWORDS. The whole day was spent with my great gob open in amazement and disbelief. A mind boggling experience.
The day ended with a very cosy train trip back to the city centre, during which, of course, we made another lovely Malaysian friend - a 47 year old man who has been married 14 years and has 2 children, aged 2 and 6, and can no longer work because he was in a motorbike accident with an Indian woman, which messed up his hand. His main question to me was 'Why don't you use shampoo?'. I was naturally overwhelmed by the flattery.
Tomorrow we head North to the Cameron Highlands where we plan to dither around some tea plantations and revel in the cooler climes. Bye for now!
Last night, after a day of walking all over the city, we indulged in a food tour (what else?). We took a train out to some random spot way out of the centre and waited for our guy, Charles, to come and pick us up. Well, we waited and waited, wondered, and waited, and sure enough, 15 minutes too late, a young guy screeched up in his car, sticking his tongue out at us. It transpired that Charles was a complete lad and genuinely nice guy. We drove around the suburbs of KL (well, he drove. Sarah and I were busy looking at the terrifyingly small gaps between us and neighbouring cars and ditches), stopping off in numerous places to sample local delicacies. My my my, Malaysia is a dreaaaammm when it comes to food: it has incredible Chinese and Indian food, as well as wonderful traditional Malay dishes. Every time we stopped, I had a little weep because everything was just so flippin delicious. Except durian, the so-called king of the fruits. It does NOT deserve that accolade because it is like eating death. Slimy, gooey, smelly death. Sarah likened it to a mushed up roast dinner, in both taste and texture. So to durian, I say a big fat NO. Other than that, it was a very amusing evening. Mainly because we were being driven around KL by a 3rd generation Indian wide boy.
Today was quite a change of scenery: we experienced the Thaipusam festival at the Batu Caves. If you haven't heard of it, look it up. It was bonkers. It's a Hindu festival celebrating the God of war (I think-we read about it this morning but my brain is quite tired right now) and consists mainly of something like 500,000 people hitting up the Batu Caves to watch men carrying GIGANTIC and elaborate, hmmmm, decorations, I guess you could say, 272 steps up into the caves. A lot of them have hooks attaching their own skin to the decorations, or they have things like lemons, limes, roses or leaves hooked onto their backs and metal rods through their lips. It sounds crazy-partly because it is- but I'm sure there is a great significance behind it all. It was absolutely amazing. We also witnessed a wild-haired man walking over swords that were held aloft, sort of like a floating and moving footpath. A sharp footpath made of SWORDS. The whole day was spent with my great gob open in amazement and disbelief. A mind boggling experience.
The day ended with a very cosy train trip back to the city centre, during which, of course, we made another lovely Malaysian friend - a 47 year old man who has been married 14 years and has 2 children, aged 2 and 6, and can no longer work because he was in a motorbike accident with an Indian woman, which messed up his hand. His main question to me was 'Why don't you use shampoo?'. I was naturally overwhelmed by the flattery.
Tomorrow we head North to the Cameron Highlands where we plan to dither around some tea plantations and revel in the cooler climes. Bye for now!
Friday, 10 January 2014
1000km done!
Yes, you read that correctly- I have cycled 1000km. Not only that, but my legs and arse are still very much in tact and surprisingly pain free. Success!
This would be the mother of all posts if I went through and listed everything that happened, and I'm pretty sure it would be unfathomably dull for the large majority of people. To this end, you can think of this as the highlights package. Given that most of you reading belong to a very select group of family and perhaps two non-relatives, you can rest assured that I will provide a blow by blow account of every pedal along the way, so you have that thrilling prospect on your horizons! But for now, here is kind of a quick summary of funny/interesting/ tasty things that happened:
- we cycled. And cycled. And cycled. And then, just for good measure, we cycled a bit more. Miraculously, I made it to the end without any major issues and I was mighty surprised that my legs had not been transformed into stiff, leaden poles after over 1000km. Even more surprising was that my rear end almost didn't even notice that it had been sitting on what was essentially nothing more than an arrow head for 19 days. Whoever invented padded shorts should be knighted for their services to bums all over the globe, and then promptly stripped of their knighthood for creating the least attractive item of clothing known to mankind. Padded shorts make dungarees look like entirely seductive and alluring attire (which we all know is so, so wrong). Physical pain aside, my bike did not quite make it to the end without difficulty. One day, whilst waiting around for another group member to be treated after a fall, my back tyre suddenly thought "Wow, I've been putting in some serious hours. Time for me to give up". And so it did in the most spectacular fashion; exploding completely randomly and making us run for cover because we thought a rogue monk had come out to shoot us. Not an hour later, having been fitted wit a new tyre, my bike gave up again and decided that it is no longer the most fun to cart around a clumsy Brit and all her worldly belongings (read: many, many malaria tablets). That aside, it served me well, even managing to survive a face-on collision with a truck door which opened directly into me.
-dog chases were a very prominent feature of the trip, with almost everyone being chased by packs of unruly dogs at some point. My own experience happened along a dusty road, in a rare moment of solo cycling: one of the dogs was fully giving me the evil eyes and they chased me for about 50m. I was squealing and flailing like a mad thing on wheels, which the locals apparently interpreted as some kind of travelling comedy routine and just laughed at me. A lot.
-I have learnt Khmer (the language spoken here). Well, I say learnt: I am now fully qualified to point at and name about 5 fruits and animals. I can also say that I drink alcohol-however, I thought it meant 'I`m thirsty' (as I was mistakenly led to believe), so I was basically giving people the impression that I have a drinking problem a few times a day.
-as a group, we consumed a very large amount of rice and eggs. Rice was involved at pretty much every single meal, and, such was the love of rice of one of our guides, when rice was not on the menu, he ordered it anyway. And eggs, sooo many eggs: fried, boiled, omlette-ified, scrambled and once fertilised- there was really no limit to the number of eggs we could consume in a day. All in the name of protein!
-Cambodians like to say hello to people on bikes. Every day, and I really mean every day, as we were cycling merrily along, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, a couple of kids would suddenly come racing out of thin air and ambush us, screaming 'hellohellohellohellohellohello'. This would start a kind of chain reaction and the next half hour would pass in a frenzy of shouting and waving, which is quite dangerous on a road full of pot holes. They also thoroughly enjoy it if you smile at them, so for big long stretches of the route, I was cycling with a big grin plastered to my face. I realise now that they could well have just been laughing at me, rather than smiling with me because I think I must have looked quite insane.
-perhaps the best thing to come out of this trip is that I have discovered the joy of Cambodia! I don't want to get too mushy on you, but it really is a delightful country. The recent history is truly awful and confusing and difficult, but the country as I experienced it is full of spirit and energy. We saw some beautiful scenery and buildings along the way, but the real gem of le Cambodge (as the French so hilariously call it) is the people. Anyone who can put up with my butchering of their language deserves every positive accolade in the book.
I'm now relaxing at the seaside with many, many French and Russian people before heading off to Malaysia to eat my entire body weight (and then some) in fried snacks and fish heads.
Thanks Bodge, you've been a dream!
This would be the mother of all posts if I went through and listed everything that happened, and I'm pretty sure it would be unfathomably dull for the large majority of people. To this end, you can think of this as the highlights package. Given that most of you reading belong to a very select group of family and perhaps two non-relatives, you can rest assured that I will provide a blow by blow account of every pedal along the way, so you have that thrilling prospect on your horizons! But for now, here is kind of a quick summary of funny/interesting/ tasty things that happened:
- we cycled. And cycled. And cycled. And then, just for good measure, we cycled a bit more. Miraculously, I made it to the end without any major issues and I was mighty surprised that my legs had not been transformed into stiff, leaden poles after over 1000km. Even more surprising was that my rear end almost didn't even notice that it had been sitting on what was essentially nothing more than an arrow head for 19 days. Whoever invented padded shorts should be knighted for their services to bums all over the globe, and then promptly stripped of their knighthood for creating the least attractive item of clothing known to mankind. Padded shorts make dungarees look like entirely seductive and alluring attire (which we all know is so, so wrong). Physical pain aside, my bike did not quite make it to the end without difficulty. One day, whilst waiting around for another group member to be treated after a fall, my back tyre suddenly thought "Wow, I've been putting in some serious hours. Time for me to give up". And so it did in the most spectacular fashion; exploding completely randomly and making us run for cover because we thought a rogue monk had come out to shoot us. Not an hour later, having been fitted wit a new tyre, my bike gave up again and decided that it is no longer the most fun to cart around a clumsy Brit and all her worldly belongings (read: many, many malaria tablets). That aside, it served me well, even managing to survive a face-on collision with a truck door which opened directly into me.
-dog chases were a very prominent feature of the trip, with almost everyone being chased by packs of unruly dogs at some point. My own experience happened along a dusty road, in a rare moment of solo cycling: one of the dogs was fully giving me the evil eyes and they chased me for about 50m. I was squealing and flailing like a mad thing on wheels, which the locals apparently interpreted as some kind of travelling comedy routine and just laughed at me. A lot.
-I have learnt Khmer (the language spoken here). Well, I say learnt: I am now fully qualified to point at and name about 5 fruits and animals. I can also say that I drink alcohol-however, I thought it meant 'I`m thirsty' (as I was mistakenly led to believe), so I was basically giving people the impression that I have a drinking problem a few times a day.
-as a group, we consumed a very large amount of rice and eggs. Rice was involved at pretty much every single meal, and, such was the love of rice of one of our guides, when rice was not on the menu, he ordered it anyway. And eggs, sooo many eggs: fried, boiled, omlette-ified, scrambled and once fertilised- there was really no limit to the number of eggs we could consume in a day. All in the name of protein!
-Cambodians like to say hello to people on bikes. Every day, and I really mean every day, as we were cycling merrily along, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, a couple of kids would suddenly come racing out of thin air and ambush us, screaming 'hellohellohellohellohellohello'. This would start a kind of chain reaction and the next half hour would pass in a frenzy of shouting and waving, which is quite dangerous on a road full of pot holes. They also thoroughly enjoy it if you smile at them, so for big long stretches of the route, I was cycling with a big grin plastered to my face. I realise now that they could well have just been laughing at me, rather than smiling with me because I think I must have looked quite insane.
-perhaps the best thing to come out of this trip is that I have discovered the joy of Cambodia! I don't want to get too mushy on you, but it really is a delightful country. The recent history is truly awful and confusing and difficult, but the country as I experienced it is full of spirit and energy. We saw some beautiful scenery and buildings along the way, but the real gem of le Cambodge (as the French so hilariously call it) is the people. Anyone who can put up with my butchering of their language deserves every positive accolade in the book.
I'm now relaxing at the seaside with many, many French and Russian people before heading off to Malaysia to eat my entire body weight (and then some) in fried snacks and fish heads.
Thanks Bodge, you've been a dream!
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