Underwater history and a land of smiles

 

Our rest days are coming to an end with earlier and earlier wake ups. Yesterday I was able to convince Wolfgang of Waterworx Diving to give us an extra 15 minutes to have our breakfast before we were picked up to go diving at 7:15 in the morning. Why so early you might ask? USS Liberty is located off Tulamben which is some good 3 hours from Sanur. The road was partly spent snoozing in the car, at least until we got to Padang Bai where the dive center is located. We picked up our equipment there and there headed off further north to Tulamben. Waterworx Diving was recommended to us by Stefan and Nina, our German dive buddies from Sabang Beach. In fact all of diving here in Bali is bloody expensive, partially due to the distances (3 hours by car to Tulamben, 1 hour by car plus 1 hour by boat to Nusa Pendida). Probably due to other “Indonesian-specific” factors too. Everything seems to be quite expensive here, save the food.

We arrived in Tulamben at around 10 and prepared for our first dive immediately. We got 5mm wetsuits from Waterworx. This was the first time in life, despite hundreds and hundreds of dives behind my belt, that I got to dive in such a thick, brand new suit. And it was the first time in my life that I needed to tack on 10kg worth of weights to comfortably go down. The buoyancy of this thing is incredible (well… so is the buoyancy of my belly fat). Getting into water was fun to begin with. It was Krysia’s first challenging shore entry. Big pebbled beach, strong surf, big waves. Hard not to trip and break your legs. Our first dive took us around the wreck, exploring 50 years of coral and sponge growth on it. Our divemaster, Komang, spotted one potato grouper, but this dive was about the wreck itself and seeing nature at work, rather than any big stuff. Liberty is huge, 120 meters long, broken up into pieces, first by Japanese torpedoes in 1945, then by a volcanic eruption that pushed it off to sea in 1963. Getting out of the water was much easier.

An hour surface interval resulted in a mediocre lunch during which I once again netted a soup. I’m getting a bit tired of this game. I order rice, nasi, and I get rice flooded with salty water. Come on people! At least I was able to find a store with some rice chips and chocolates for the ride back. After lunch it was back in the water for the second dive when we got to explore the inside of the wreck. Well… inside is saying a bit much. As I wrote, the wreck is completely broken up, so there are no enclosed spaces besides the engine room, which we didn’t explore due to Krysia’s inexperience. Giant clams, nudibranches and bunch of other small stuff that can excite the beginner diver. I was just enjoying the view of the wreck. Sadly I can’t post any underwater photos due to lack of underwater camera this time, but check out Tulamben dive site on google to get the idea what you can see there.

We headed back the same winding road that we came and got to be stuck in traffic because of preparations for Indonesian independence day. And once again the smiling faces were everywhere. You stick your head outside of the car window and you hear a chorus of hellos and Good Day. Balinese can be truly wonderful people if they are not trying to hussle you into buying their trinkets. Truly a wonderful journey. We got back after 7 PM.

Happy smiles on a scooter

While chewing your own fingers

Check out the girls in the upper left corner modeling for the white boy

And the boys doing “I love Heavy Metal” instead of “Hang Ten”

Smile for the camera cutie

Back in Sanur, we checked out the restaurant next door for the nicest presentation meal in Bali yet. True, it was mie goreng and nasi goreng again, but both the flavors and presentation were worth every penny. Okay, it’s not the most exciting of all meals, but what the hell: WE LOVE FRIED NOODLES AND RICE!

    

Mie goreng                                           Nasi goreng

Catching waves

 

One relaxing day has a tendency to lead into another. After our lovely American breakfast (it’s not that often you get pork here, so gotto have me some bacon) and morning routine, I went around looking for transport to Kuta beach. 11:45 was still ways away so with full agreement from the missus, we decided to take advantage of the sun and the hotel pool to get in some sun time as well as some water time. I am a quick burner but slow tanner, and since our sun opportunities are quickly ending on this honeymoon it was high time to get brown for our post-honeymoon wedding photo shoot. Couple hours in the sun was just what the doctor ordered. In the meantime I got an answer from Odysseys Surfing School in Kuta and they would pick us up for our lesson at 2PM today. Fantastic. No need to rush, no need worry.

Becoming masters of the waves sounded like such a good idea before the honeymoon. The pictures of Big Kahuna coming to mind, surfing films like Point Break bringing images to my mind of my hair flapping in the wind as I’m carving the top of the wave, going through a crashing tunnel, doing twist and turns. But first we were deposited at the school and with more than an hour before the lesson, we went to the beach. Kuta beach is wonderfully large with beautiful sand and crashing waves. Toned beach bodies abound, including the types that shouldn’t really be there. Krysia wasn’t too happy to be in a close proximity of a lobster colored gigolo in his 50s, in lovely skin tight orange speedos trying to expose his family jewels to all the passing girls. It’s all part of the fun girl. Sitting on the beach I was surprised how different it was from being advertised. Perhaps it’s the lack of tourists due to European crisis and Ramadan, but the beach is much nicer, cleaner and less crowded than we thought. Not that I’ve regrets about booking our oasis of tranquility in Sanur: our hotel is absolutely phenomenal, but I think given time, we’ll try to make it out here for one more day. Kuta beach reminds me very much of Waikiki beach in Hawaii, perhaps due to the presence of surfers, or maybe it’s the sand or the crashing waves. To sum up: it’s nice. Come and visit.

Our surfing lesson began innocently and fun enough. On dry land, learning how to lie on the board, how to paddle and finally: how to stand up. Piece of cake, right? It is while the board is firmly pressed into soft sand. “Are you regular of goofy?” was the question referring to our surfing stance. How the hell should I know? I chose regular, which perhaps was my first mistake. The next two and a half hours were a harrowing exercise in pain, drinking gallons of salt water and frustration. For me that is, because Kris with her much better sense of balance, managed to get up and STAY UP quite a few times, including one full run to the shore. I didn’t manage a single clean run or in fact even staying up for more than a second. True, I almost got up a few times, only to fall overboard almost immediately. My legendary problems with balance were visible even when lying on the board. If I’m wobbly with my belly on the board, what can I expect with my feet down. One thing I learned very well though: always hang on to your board and have it to your side. One moment of frustration when I just threw the board in front of me, the sea gods took their revenge by sending a wave that immediately smacked the board right in my face and threw me in what the surfers call a “washer”, spinning around underwater.

With all of the above said, it was worth trying and still some fun. And it was nice to see wifey doing so well. I don’t know if I’ll try it again, not until I get much smaller. After the lesson I was so sore I could barely move my shoulders. One thing: I didn’t give up and took more tries than anyone on the beach. That was probably the source of my pain too, with my shoulders completely giving out on the last few runs. We headed back to Sanur for some much deserved dinner and beers. Couple days ago Jaga recommended Balinese fried duck to us, so dedek was on the plate. Not bad, although Bazyliszek in Warsaw does a much better one. But for all you duck lovers, give it a try.

Blissfully Bali blissful bliss

 

Nothing like a goodnight sleep in a football sized bed to make the missus happy. Though even for her the bed was just… too big. I thought I’d never hear these words in my life, but apparently there is a bed size limit for my wife. Bali king (roughly 2.5 meters across) is big enough to stretch Jesus-crucifixion style, or perhaps do the running man, and the other person still can lie blissfully unaware of the other person. An early morning swim for me in the lovely pool worked up quite an appetite and it was off to breakfast. Finally some real choice, good continental buffet, American or Indonesian breakfast. For perfection they should thrown in Irish with freshly baked scones and black and white pudding.

My early exploration yesterday paid off and we headed to a nice and cleaner part of the Sanur beach. The sand here is wonderful, it’s something between this fine white sand of the Caribbean and the gravel beaches of Mediterranean. Crashing out on a beach for a few hours trying not to get too baked was just what the doctor ordered. Although the sun’s directly overhead, the sea breeze is significant making for a perfect beach weather. Absolutely perfect for just lying there while sipping cold Bali Cider. Water’s the temperature of lukewarm soup, although I was told I shouldn’t expect that when diving. Apparently the sea currents bring in a lot of cold water and Tulamben dives can be around 20 Celsius. Brr… I guess it will be a long wetsuit for me.

We stayed on the beach until about 3pm, figured no use in getting well done on the first day here. Getting haggled on the beach wasn’t too bad here. Locals of course want your business, but it’s a bit more laid back. One guy, Komang, just sat with us on the beach, showed us his folder, where he could take us by car and what to show us and tried to wait us out until we made a decision. But we hung on tough. It’s the same in the stores: everyone wants you to look at their trinkets, but in the end, it isn’t so in your face like we got in the Philippines. A bit of “I give you nice price, low season yeah?” and then “Ok, you come back later then”.

Hotel welcomed us with a freshly made up room, mineral water and a nice, long, hot shower. No more problems with water pressure we had in the Phillies or the cold water showers in Malaysia. Water is boiling hot and comes at a pressure high enough to bore through an elephant’s ass. Of course being in such a nice hotel makes you a bit lazy, so we decided to dine in the hotel restaurant. I can’t say enough about Asian food. I’ve known and loved it for more than 20 years now, but being here again brings it a new dimension. Nasi goreng is lovely Malaysian style (with pungent seafood sauce and little dried mackerels) and Indonesian style with meat on top on a much milder sauce stirred in the fried rice. Even Kris is slowly starting to get used to fishy flavors. She’s scarfing the prawn crackers like there’s no tomorrow, and they’re more seafoody than the original sea cockroaches. Beer happy hour: three large beers for the price of two and a half proved a winner with us. Unfortunately alcohol is quite expensive here as in Malaysia (darn Muslim countries…) so any happy deal makes us happy alcoholics.

Crashing early seemed the right thing to do so after dinner and watching some Olympics (Go USA! Go Poland!) we drifted off into the dreamland.

The Dream of Relaxation coming true

Waking up for the final time in Kuala Lumpur is a great thing when the outlook says A WEEK IN BALI. Our Citin Hotel turned out a decent breakfast, finally a place where I didn’t have to eat cereal from a hamster-sized bowl. Since our flight was in the afternoon we had some time for last minute shopping: it’s become a tradition with us than on the day we leave, we see how much currency we have left after paying all our bills and transport and go try to spend it all. The haul today: two pairs of Alladin pants for me and the missus and some stuff for the house. Our backpacks are getting fatter everyday. The place: Sentral Market, where you can get everything your tourist heart desires. It was fortunate that there was a post office nearby and Krysia made a run to in, otherwise we’d be hand delivering our postcards a month from now.We took a bus directly from Puduraya to the LCC terminal at Kuala Lumpur International. The Low Cost Carrier Terminal is actually quite far from the main terminal, about 15 minutes by bus in case any of you travellers wonder if you’re being taken out into the bushes. It’s actually two airports with two separate runways. The LCCT is very well equipped with restaurants (we finally partook of Malaysian fast food MarryBrown which was basically a chicken join with Malaysian flavors), cafes (including Starbucks), shops, duty free (complete ripoff, prices at twice the Warsaw duty free level) and all the other standard amenities including free Wi-Fi which barely works (as everywhere else in Malaysia).

Although I'm not proud of it, we managed to spend our last ringgits on a box of donuts from Dunkin Donuts. Oh what the hell! We're both losing weight anyways. :)

We took off from this land at 15:45 local time on the next leg of our journey.

Bali. From the start I can just feel being more relaxed. The weather in the evening is a balmy 27 Celsius with just a slightest breeze. I booked a week-long package at Mentari Sanur Hotel which included a two-way airport transfer, so upon collecting our check-in luggage we looked for a guy with a sign. Krysia quickly spotted a guy standing with a sign saying “Mr. Bart & Krysia”. So far, a very good beginning. Jaga, our driver, turned out to be a very friendly fellow, who of course can arrange anything that we could want, from diving to white-water rafting, to a case of discounted beer. And of course if we need a driver during our stay, he’s our man. Of course it’s business, but somehow I got a good feeling about this.

Arriving at our hotel we were greeted with our welcome drink, a glass of mixed tropical juice with a lime decoration. I’m sure that Krysia will post a photo sooner or later. First impression of our hotel: tranquil setting, we have a room right by the pool, coconut palms and other trees growing on premises, geckos running on the walls, frogs jumping on the ground. Jungle paradise. Our room is very nice, maybe a bit run down. Lovely bathroom, HUGE bed (which hopefully means I will not be pushed off of it during the night), a fruit basket. All’s good in paradise.

So nice, we’re just enjoying our evening beer in the restaurant, chilling and updating our blog. Tomorrow: a lazy day. Beach, food, fun.

Jungle run

 We got to sleep in today, getting up almost at 8 am. With an afternoon departure to KL and only a jungle trek planned, we could afford to do so and we all know how much Kris likes her beauty sleep. And it was the first time since Japan when I had a really hot shower. Almost scalding, since I like extreme temperatures in general (I like my beer so cold it shatters the enamel on my teeth and my coffee so hot that it melts my intestinal tract). Breakfast was nothing to write home about. The famed KRS special turned out to be two badly scrambled eggs with pale toast, a lukewarm hot dog and a saucer worth of baked beans. But c'est la vie. We packed up to go on our trek, but wifey insisted on leaving her bag behind: she did carry more than me (surprise surprise), although to give her some credit, she was carrying our shampoo, my deodorant and my toothbrush.

Jungle boy ...

Our trek to Mt. Pachibumbum (I can’t actually remember the name of it…) began at around half past nine with weather calm, partly sunny: a perfect hiking weather. As already mentioned, Cameron Highlands enjoys a much different weather than the rest of Malaysia, due to its high altitude (at about 1000 meters above the sea level). The temperature was probably a balmy 25 Celsius with relatively low humidity and a nice breeze going on. Our hike took us through a rather rough terrain: moss covered tree roots, slippery rocks, mud, moss pits and probably my least favorite: wet clay, slippery as hell and a nightmare to get off your shoes and pants. Around us, a jungle, but a different type than experienced on Sabah. A mixed type of a forest with very occasional palm trees and more temperate type of trees, even with few conifers mixed in. We followed trail number 10 which was takes you to the top of the mountain, unfortunately it wasn't that well marked. Krysia seemed to remember the instructions from yesterday, but I didn't pay any attention (as usual) so at times it was a bit of a blind run: “Do we go left or right? You don't know? Why don't you know? Ok, lets go right. Why not? Well if you think we should go left than lets go left”. But after about three hours we were rewarded by reaching the top with magnificent views of the highlands.

... meets a jungle girl

What comes up must come down, and so did we. But contrary to the belief, the way down isn't always easier. With at least three paths we could follow (and later on another fork in the road to make it four) we chose one that seemed most downward. A logical assumption that it should be the quickest way down. Unfortunately it seems we chose a path used by water during seasonal floods, i.e. a river bed, filled with wet rocks and slippery clay, often with sharp drop-offs and meter deep holes. Once we were out of there, it was a path through bushes, tall grasses and short palm trees, ferns with thorns, a tangle of few hundred year old tree roots and sometimes what was worst: fallen trees too high to climb over with a 50 meter drop on one side, a vertical wall on the other and an opening underneath through which we literally had to crawl through. My honey wanted a jungle trek, well... she got a jungle trek. Although at one point when she slid down the path and was hanging ass down over a sharp drop hanging on to some roots I think even she thought “Darn, maybe I should've gone to Starbucks instead”. Finally we popped out of the jungle and into civilization a bit after 1 pm. It was still ways to go before we reached the main drag in Tanah Rata, but we were happy, satisfied and hungry (not to mention dirtier that shit shoveling stable boys).  


Finally at the top

Hunger was easily taken care of by returning to Kumar restaurant. And once again, Kris asked for “NOT spicy dish”. Truth be told, I though that lamb with cashews curry was quite mild, but her tongue was still burning. But their naans and tandoori meats are simply phenomenal and quite beyond description. De-lip smacking-licious! And halfway through our honeymoon, the probiotics Kris is taking are working beautifully. She hasn't had a single major belly problem yet. Yesterday she asked me innocently “Do you really think it's the probiotics that are helping me?” and I though of all the instances when even in Western Europe she can get a Delhi belly from eating eggs, fruits or in fact anything. Yes! Probiotics work, and if this sounds like an advertisement, than consider it so.

With still some time left, we stopped at a cafe for some drinks. Thing to remember: in Asia they really do love sugar. If something COULD be sweet, consider that it will be. If something SHOULD be sweet, assume it will have a pound of sugar. I'm not a big fan of sugary in my liquids, but I guess one can get used to it. Going back Kris went to pick up her bag from the guesthouse and I went to get snacks for the road: some more cut fruits (mango and dragonfruit did us just fine) and a couple Chang beers since I finally found a place where they weren't a total ripoff. Our bus to KL by Unititi (please read it out loud a few times, ha ha ha) was already waiting and a few minutes past four we departed on a bus which wasn't supposed to exist.  Malaysian buses of the VIP type are really ultra comfortable. It's like traveling business class on the airplane. Seats three to a row, wide, reclining with footrests, blazing AC and blazing sentimental or funky Indian music. We took a break midway, a perfect opportunity to have a snack. Pau (same thing as bow in China) with curried beef and curried chicken hit the spot as a road trip food. Arriving at Puduraya station, we picked up our luggage (still intact) and went across the street to our Citin Hotel: close and not too expensive. Nothing special, but can't beat the convenience. Unfortunately there was a movie on at the hotel which meant we didn't get to leave the rest of the evening. Oh well, I'd already seen the Petronas Towers at night. Good night.

W wielkiej dżungli,potężnej dżungli ...

Na ten dzień,zaplanowana została druga wycieczka,w program w której wchodziły między innymi wizyta w wiosce zamieszkanej przez rdzenną ludność,trekking przez dżunglę oraz prezentacja największego kwiatu na ziemi – raflezji. Jak na złość okazało się że akurat teraz roślina nie kwitnie,więc i wycieczki nie opłaca się robić. Niezrażeni,postanowiliśmy samodzielnie pobuszować w zieleni. Dostaliśmy 'namiary' na niezbyt wymagajacy, 2-godzinny szlak. I teraz pytanie czysto logiczne: mając na uwadze nasze wcześniejsze doświadczenia w zdobywaniu informacji oraz fakt że są one podawane odwrotnie proporcjonalnie do prawdy – ile trwał nasz trekking i jak bardzo byliśmy zmęczeni?

Zaczęło się – jak to zwykle bywa – niewinnie.Jako że szlak miał być dobrze oznaczony,szukaliśmy początku jakieś 20 minut. W końcu, po przejściu przez kilka prywatnych ogródków,udało nam się dostać na wybraną trasę. Miło,łatwo, sympatycznie. Przez gąszcz drzew nadal było widać pobliskie domy. Niemniej jednak była to namiastka przygody, więc już się uśmiechałam od ucha do ucha. Pogoda,jako że jest to teren górzysty, była idealna. Ciepło,słonecznie,ale co jakiś czas orzeźwiał nas zimny powiew wiatru. Dość szybko doszliśmy do miejsca gdzie szlak miał się rozdzielić na nasz i inny. Inny był,a nasz...miał zakaz wstępu. Grzecznie przestrzegając przepisów, poszliśmy więc w drugą stronę.Szybko jednak okazało się, że ścieżka zaczyna schodzić w dół – a nasz szlak miał prowadzić na pobliską górę. Z dołu, zobaczyliśmy że 'zamkniętym' szlakiem jednak jacys śmiałkowie szli.Postanowiliśmy zawrócić i spróbować. Znak musiał chyba tam stać od bardzo dawna (swoją droga był troche zardzewiały i porośniety mchem), bo wkrótce zobaczylismy dalsze drogowskazy, które upewnily nas że idziemy w dobrym kierunku – czyli pod górę. Pod bardzo wysoką i stromą górę. W tym momencie łatwizna się skończyła. Ścieżka przemieniła się w schody ułożone z gałęzi,oczywiscie o róznej wielkości,wysokości i szerokości. Sprawy nie ulatwiał fakt,iż wszystko było pokryte mokrym mchem i liściami – poślizg i bolesny upadek,lub też ześlizgnięcie się z wąziutkiego przejścia ,było tylko kwestią czasu.(co oczywiście udało mi się zrobić). No cóż...chciałam przygody to ją miałam.

Po dwóch godzinach,doczłapaliśmy się na sam szczyt. Widok niewątpliwie był wart wysiłku. Chwila chwały i czas schodzić. Nie chcieliśmy eksperymentować ze ścieżkami z drugiej strony góry (nie mielismy zbyt dużo czasu),więc zgodnie z wczesniejszymi sugestiami obraliśmy pobliski szlak,który prowadził w dół i w połowie miał się łączyć z nasza pierwszą drogą. Początek był prosty,aby już po kilku minatach okazało się że ścieżki praktycznie nie widać,a my przedzieramy się przez gąszcze,haszcze i inne zielone,wysokie szcze.... natrafiliśmy na strumień,stwierdziliśmy więc że pójdziemy wzdłuż niego, w końcu woda zawsze 'schodzi' najprostszą drogą w dół. Po 30 minutach zobaczyliśmy coś co przypominało rozwidlenie. Prosto, zaczynała się w miarę normalna ścieżka. W prawo był znak wskazujacy trasę do naszej miejscowości. Trasę prowadzącą praktycznie pionowo w dół w jeszcze większe i wyższe trawy. W pewnym momencie czułam się jak Alicja w labiryncie. Postanowilismy zawierzyć w oznaczenia 'drogowe' i przedrzeć się w głąb,w poszukiwaniu scieżki. Nasz (a właściwie Bartka,który ma jakiś 6 zmysł) wybór okazał się trafny i po niedługim czasie wróciliśmy na szlak. Nie ułatwiało to jednak sprawy. Ścieżka najwyraźniej brała udział w jakimś projekcie konserwacji natury,bo co na nią spadło tak leżało. Zaczeło się więc przeskakiwanie,przechodzenie,przepełzanie i okrążanie. Wspominałam już że było ślisko,stromo i wąsko? Moje buty i spodnie przybrały kolor błotnego brązu,a bluzka i plecak mchowej zieleni.

Była to jednak jedna z najfajniejszych wędrówek jakie kiedykolwiek miałam. Kiedy cali umorusani,spoceni i zmęczeni wrócilśmy na główna drogę do naszej miejscowości (tak udało nam się wydostać z gąszczu) czułam niemałą satysfakcję. Nagrodą był przepyszny indyjski obiad. Jako że wyprawa zajęła nam dwa razy dłużej,dość szybko się zebraliśmy i udaliśmy się na stacje autobusową. Autokar 'widmo' już czekał i wydawał się dość realny.Kiedy się wygodnie usadowiłam w siedzeniu,byłam pewna że nie śnię ;)

Cameron Highlands

Cameron Higlands okazało się strzałem w dziesiątkę. Mogę z całą odpowiedzialnością polecić to miejsce każdemu miłśnikowi natury,przygody i adrenaliny.

Nigdy wcześniej nie słyszałam o tym regionie. Zupełnie przypadkiem,natrafiłam na zdjęcia znajomej (a więc jednak facebook ma jakieś pozytywy:) i stwierdziłam że wygląda to na całkiem fajne miejsce. Ponieważ z przyczyn logistycznych mogliśmy tam zostać tylko na jedną noc,postanowiliśmy wyjechać z samego rana. Trochę obawialiśmy się o dostępność biletów,jednak okazało się że z racji sezonu bardzo nie-turystycznego, nie było najmniejszego problemu z kupieniem biletów tuż przed. Nasze główne bagaże zostawiliśmy w przchowalni na dworcu autobusowym.(2.5 zł. Za bagaż, za dzień to śmieszna cena za oszczędzenie kręgosłupa) i zaopatrzeni tylko w niezbędne minimum wsiedliśmy do autokaru. WOW!WOW!WOW! Jak nie wiele do szczęścia potrzeba – autobus właściwie przypominał biznes klasę w samolocie. Tylko 3 siedzenia w rzędzie,duuużo miejsca do wygodnego usadzenia czterech liter,prawie że do poziomu odchylane oparcie i podnóżek. Nikt nikgo(patrz ja i Mąż) nie popycha,nie szturcha,nie drażni.Zamiast przewidywanych 4 godzin,jechaliśmy tylko 3. Same plusy.A to był dopiero początek dnia.

Tanah Rata – miejscowość w której się zatrzymaliśmy ma niewątpliwie duży urok.Dość dziwne, bo jest to typowo turystyczna miejscowość,składająca się głównie z miejsc noclegowych,biur podróży i restauracji, a takich miejsc staram się unikać. Być może jest to kwestia chłodniejszego klimatu i przepięknych,zielonych gór tonących w mistycznej mgle. Możliwe też, że dzieje się tak dlatego,iż lokalni chcą jak najlepiej ugościć wszystkich przybyszów,a nie tylko zedrzeć z nich kasę.

Powyzsze trzy zdjecia:Cameron Highlands

Zaraz po przyjeździe zameldowaliśmy się w naszym pensjonacie,skąd od razu pojechaliśmy na półdniową wycieczkę. Nasz przewdonik – Velu,Hindus z pochodzenia – podjechał po nas lekko rozklekotanym jeepem i wraz z drugą parą zaczeliśmy zwiedzanie. Pierwsza była plantacja herbaty (to co przykuło moją uwagę na zdjęciach znajomej). Hektary labiryntów pomiędzy zielonymi krzakami.Wrażenie robi niesmowite.Velu stwierdził,iż mimo że jest to największy producent czarnego napoju w całej Malezji,to jakość jest bardzo kiepska,głównie przez fakt zbiorów mechanicznych. My jednak kupiliśmy małą paczuszkę na spróbowanie,coby sobie samemu wyrobić zdanie. Następnym punktem programu była góra Birchang i mechowy las. Pomieszanie scenerii z Jurassic Park i Avatara. Grube,powyginane w najróźniejsze kształty gałęzie,porośnięte mchem podłoże i całe mnóstwo najdziwniejszych roślin. To dopiero frajda dla takiego mieszczucha jak ja. Tak mi się spodobało,że postanowiłam koniecznie wybrać się na dłuższy trekking następnego dnia. Ostatnie dwie 'atrakcje' o ile bardzo sympatyczne,były mało przygodowe. Farma motyli i truskawek.

Dzunglowe korony.

Nasz powoz.

Gdy wróciliśmy do Tanah Rata była najwyższa pora na smaczną kolację, Tym razem odwiedziliśmy indyjską knajpką,która de facto oprócz dań z południowych Indii,serwowała jeszcze kuchnię chińską i malezyjską. Jak to dobrze że zamawiając,poprosiłam aby moje danie nie było zbyt ostre.Dzięki temu 'wypaliłam' sobie tylko pół buzi i (z krótkimi przerwami na orzeżwiające bananowe lassi) dałam radę zjeść całą porcję.

Wieczór spędziliśmy na poszukiwaniu autobusu powrotnego. W internecie i na plakatch jak byk było napisane że jest autobus do Kuala Lumpur o 16.00. Niestety,nigdzie nie mogliśmy dostać biletów. Albo dane biuro ich nie sprzedawało,albo uparcie twierdziło że tak naprawdę jest to autobus widmo i nie istnieje. Nie zrażeni (bardzo zależało nam właśnie na tym autobusie z przyczyn logistycznych), zrobiliśmy kilka okrążeń po miejscowości, licząć że w końcu ktoś zlamie pakt milczenia i wyjawi nam,jak dostać się na pokład. Kropla drąży skałę – 2 godziny później,w jednym z biur właśnie otworzyli sprzedaż! Sukces! Długo nie czekając,kupiliśmy bilety,dziesięć razy upewniając się czy aby na pewno ten autobus istnieje i odjedzie.