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.

So who's this Cameron anyways?

Since we did our homework yesterday, we could sleep in a bit. After a quick shower, repacking into our small backpacks for two days and another breakfast at KL's worst hotel we went to Pudu Sentral station. At the luggage storage a daughter of the owner was already waiting for us. Amazing how people here will wait for your business even if it's only for 8 ringitt. Since the road was supposed to be long we got some snacks to get us through the ride. Cameron Highlands seems strong on the backpacker trail and the bus was mostly white. Lots of French here for some reason as well as the traditional mixture of Dutch, Germans and an occasional Australian. The road to Tanah Ratah was uneventful, with a short pit stop to drain the lizard and before we knew it we were there. Took just a bit over three hours, as opposed to the four and a half to five hours advertised. Word of advice: never count on the schedules being right around the equator. Once again it's that polychronic approach to time. When you expect to travel for a whole day, you end up at your destination in a few hours. When you expect to be somewhere in an hour, you might end up there in six. From the station it was a short walk to our guesthouse selected by Kris. I had a look at the same one a couple months ago and it seemed like a good choice. We were struck at the sheer number of guesthouses in Tanah Rata. Next time here, or for anyone visiting: don't bother booking a room. There are so many accommodations available it's ripe for picking. Our room wasn't ready, but our landlady turned out to be an extremely competent lady who spoke flawless English and was ready with a limitless supply of good information. She booked us on a half day trip to tea and strawberry plantations, a jungle trek and a butterfly farm and suggested a good restaurant for lunch. Leaving Kris' heavier bag behind we went to fill up on South Indian fare at Sri Brinchang. Krysia specifically asked for a mild curry, but it wasn't to be. Her tongue burned, though heavens know why: her curry was actually very mild. Only enough to kill half of Polish population. After lunch we checked in with our tour office next door and were picked up by Velu in his rather run down 4x4. Together with two traveling Yanks we went on a picture crazy bonanza at the tea plantation. The views are wonderful, but according to Velu, the tea is absolute shit. Instead of hand picking the leaves, they just trim them with machines together with the branches, stems and an occasional spider nest before roasting it all together. We purchased some to try at home. Whether it's true or not remains to be seen, but I have my doubts as to accuracy of the information given by our guide. Velu did not seem to be very fond of Chinese Malaysians or aboriginal Malays. This seems to be a trend here that even though population is quite mixed and seems to live in peace and harmony, they don't particularly like each other or speak fondly of each other. Chinese have snapped up a lot of the land and property and are the richest part of Malaysian population, Indians being the workhorses, and Malays just kind of keeping to themselves with their Islam and headscarves. Next came photo opportunities at a view tower on Mount Brinchang and the jungle trek. Well... a mini trek in reality. We were offered a choice of “hard” or “easy” trek and despite the majority opting for easy (Kris wanted the hard one, I said “whatever” and the Yanks were concerned about the state of their pants and wanted easy) Velu seemed to understand that we are to go on the hard trek. What it actually involved was about twenty minutes walking on top of 220 million year old pile of fossilized moss, tangled tree roots and top soil, which felt a little bit like walking on a hard mattress observing pitcher plants, smelling various tree leaves and bark, all of which can be found in an Indian curry dish, all while wearing silly hats made out of ferns and taking photos. Quite a lot of fun, but really, calling it hard would be a stretch in anyone's dictionary. Kris enjoyed it immensely and wanted to go on another trek tomorrow. The butterfly farm was next, which turned out to be a rather large hothouse willed with a variety of flora and thousands of colorful butterflies sitting, or sometimes even flying. Some nice exposition of snakes and a variety of bugs was also included. The final stop was a strawberry farm, which quite honestly sucked. The only interesting part about it is, since Cameron Highlands have a much cooler weather than the rest of Malaysia, organic strawberries are grown here. A very interesting farming system where bags of top soil are suspended above the ground on a wooded lattice with water irrigation system installed, and then strawberry bushes are planted directly inside. So what you're looking at is like something out of Space Odyssey 2001 film, strawberries growing in mid air. They are bloody expensive here, and quite honestly, without much flavor. When we got back to Tanah Rata we were presented with a dilemma. We had to leave tomorrow, because we've a flight to Bali on the 7^th. There is too much risk to take the morning bus at 8:30, because if it does take the five hours as advertised, we're going to miss our flight. But while looking for a late afternoon bus, everyone told us something different. “1:45 last bus”, “2 last bus”, “5:30 last bus, but it goes through Ipoh and it takes 6 hours” (meaning we'd miss picking up our luggage at the bus station). What about the 4 pm bus we were counting on? “Canceled”, “No go”, “Maybe”, “I don't know”. We asked about it at the bus station and the company rep said “No bus, because no customers”. Normally that would be enough information to go on, but taught by experience, I went online to check the online reservation system and the bus already had 5 tickets sold. So we decided to hang about and eat some dinner at Kumar, an Indian place right next to Brinchang. Once again, food was delicious, if on a spicy side for my wife. Although to be honest, they could not get the chutney or the mint sauce right. After dinner we went back to the bus station with my laptop to show the sales rep (who was different this time), that there was a bus at 4 pm tomorrow, and lo and behold the answer was “Of course there is. I already sold seven tickets for it. You want go?” Oh the humanity of trying to get pertinent information from the locals. I said it once and I'll say it again: if it's in their best interest, they will give you the information, if it's not they will either give you disinformation (very common in the Philippines) or simply play stupid and not give you any info. Moral of the story, check, check, check and then check once again.

Organic strawberry farming in Cameron Highlands.

On the way back to the guesthouse we picked up some more local fruit. I just want my hon to try everything Asia has to offer, and it has a lot of fruit to offer. Some starfruit, mangosteen and once again rambuttan (since she forgot how it tastes like) from a nice Chinese guy who actually washed and cut up the starfruit for us. We also found a place, a first place during our stay in Malaysia, with cheap beer. 5.50 RM for half a liter of Chang beer (my favorite brew from Thailand) was a steal, so picked up a couple of these as well as two half liter Camel beers. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT??? 12% alcohol by volume in a can. This is not a joke. This beer was so strong, Kris couldn't drink it, saying it was too bitter. I actually enjoyed mine, but a can of this and a can of 6.5% Chang got me almost completely plastered by bed time.
Malaysia so far has turned to be a culinary heaven and diet hell. We've been eating a lot, because the food is delicious, spicy (for me if I want it) and inexpensive. A mixture of Indian and Chinese mostly, as well as a great selection of fruits. It's a bit tricky with Malaysian food, since it's Ramadan at the moment, so their food is usually not available at all during the day. But once we're back in Warsaw, I'm pretty sure the missus will want me to incorporate a lot more Asian flavors in my daily cooking. I think she's finally getting sold on more exotic flavors, and it makes me very happy. If she could only learn to enjoy seafood and sushi...

Kuala Lumpur bleh. Am I really a country bumpkin?

 

The breakfast at D’Oriental Inn was just what you’d expect: cold and nasty. But mandatory nutrition meant suffering through it and leaving the hotel to explore Kuala lumpur as soon as possible. This was my second time in this city, my previous visit happening in 2005. Didn’t get much of a taste for it 7 years ago, perhaps this time it would be different, although by the first feeling we got from the hotel it was going to be difficult. Got to admit, I was in a rotten mood this morning. Last night’s hotel disappointment didn’t let off yet.

Kris wanted to see Batu Caves, a complex of Hindu shrines on the outskirts of the city. We took a commuter train there (strangely enough the fare going back is twice as high as the fare there, but still a bargain, 1 ringgit there and 2 ringgits back) for about 45 minutes. Batu Caves houses several different temples, some of which are carved inside the caves, some are built outside. The whole place is just swarming with monkeys. Small, ugly, yellow toothed, filthy creatures I would gladly put a baseball bat to, if I had the chance. I tried to feed one, only to get a few hisses and an attempt to tear my face off. Next time I see one in the forest it will be a blowgun lesson for me. The stairs to the temple cave are an arduous journey. Not only many of them, but also very steep. Needless to say I was sweating buckets and by the time I got to the top my shirt has changed its color a few shades. The weather is absolutely terrible in KL in August. Hot, 30 plus Celsius, humidity at 100 per cent. You’re out of your air conditioned room for a few minutes and your clothes are already sticking to you. We wanted a breather after the caves and found it in a vegetarian Indian restaurant. Now there is hell for my meat-eating wife if there is any. Our food was actually quite good, naan with cheese and onion with bunch of typical dips: chutney, mint sauce and daal. But I get this feeling that she wasn’t THAT happy about it. Even an ice cream cone didn’t fully do it, especially that it started melting immediately.

Merdaka Square

From there it was on to Merdaka square, a more or less central place in KL, a place where they hold their independence day parades and nowadays a good place to watch the Olympics on a big screen. There is a nice information center next to it, where we learned what we already knew: there was nothing really much to see in KL that interested us, besides Petronas Towers. And once again, as in Borneo, there’s this tendency to screw the pooch (and if you aren’t Malaysia, you’re the pooch) by charging three, four even five times for any entrance of worth. If you’re a budget traveler, you’re screwed, but even if you’re not, it just puts you in a bad mood. You’re being ridiculously taken advantage of. 80 ringgit to go up Petronas Towers?? $26 per person is more than Empire States building in NY, more than CN Tower in Toronto or the Space Needle in Seattle. Screw you!

We headed to Petronas Towers. Those jewels of modern Euro-Islamic architecture were the tallest buildings in the world for a while and still hold the title as the world’s tallest twin towers. With smog present in the city and the ridiculous pricing, we decided not to go up to the observation deck, but instead joined hordes of tourists attempting to get a clear shot of you and the towers with no one else in view. With hundreds of people pushing, getting in each other’s way it was a challenge. A flash of inspiration brought upon my powers of observation and I spotted a wall behind which there was a street. We went to the other side and zip, zilch, nada. No people and the view: PERFECT. Our photo session brought upon smiles from passing cops and a bus full of Malaysians shouting “Model, model!” to us. Below are some of the results.

 

Nothing to put us in a better mood then some Malaysian food from an Indian restaurant. Nasi goreng rocks, although I warn seafood haters: the sauce is pungent with fish and dried mackerels top the rice so not for everyone. Kris once again went for the tried and tested Mi goreng (pictured) which doesn’t smell of fish so bad. We grabbed a dragon fruit and a couple big beers on the street before heading back to our hell hole. Tomorrow morning, we’re off to Cameron Highlands.