No Fruit - No Fine!!

Tuesday 31 October

It was very difficult to get up this morning when the alarm went off about 05.30 – another night of only about four hours sleep. But the motel shower was powerful and ensured you were awake by the time you went for breakfast. We all served ourselves with cereals and fruit and baskets of hot toast were the table, wrapped in napkins. The kitchen then kicked in with the cooked breakfast orders in a very slick operation, and everyone was served very quickly with a variety of eggs – scrambled, over easy, straight - bacon and tomatoes. By 07.00 we were all on the coach, with all the luggage tagged and loaded, ready to start our marathon journey of 800 kms today – about 500 miles – to Adelaide. Yesterday we clocked up 657 kms.

The landscape at the start of the journey was just mile upon mile of very flat land, the horizon seeming more than the usual seven miles away. It reminded us of the fenlands, without the water. That is the problem in this area, the drought has left everything parched and under-developed. The river beds and reservoirs are cracked with large welts in the ground. The wheat in the fields is stunted – less than a foot high, when it should have been ready for harvesting in the next month or so. Even rice fields are large lakes of water, with very few green shoots peeping through. It is obviously a desperate problem for the farmers and at one time we saw one cutting his wheat – probably realizing his crop had failed, and maybe hoping to salvage something by selling it as hay for animals. These fields were miles square – almost a far as the eye can see by several miles long, the investment and time spent on preparing the land, buying the seed and planting would have been enormous – with little or nothing in return. There were a few small herds of Hereford cattle, and some merino sheep grazing on the stubble – hopefully the return on meat and wool would be better than crops.

A few kilometers up the road from Griffith, where we stayed last night, were signs for “Darlington Point”. Nobody knows why it is called this, but it came to prominence as a fording place for the Murrumbidgee River. In the 1940’s the local farmers joined together to form one of the first cooperatives in this region, challenging the large, wealthy estates by canning 416,000 cans of citrus fruit in one day and earning a place in the Guinness Book of Records.

On our way along the Sturt Highway to our “coffee” stop, we saw yellow signs at the side of the road for kangaroos! We did pass one that disappeared into the scrub very quickly as we sped by, and a few others alongside the road, who had met untimely accidents. We reached Balranald around 11.00, another sleepy linear settlement, of single storey buildings, and lots of cafes and restaurants – lots of choice for where to buy your refreshments. This town is famous for Southern Bell frogs, an endangered species that live only in this area. All round the town are statues, fountains and place names dedicated to frogs. Only about 1300 people live here today, but there was advertised a “Frog Festival” to be held during the first week in November, to raise money to ensure the survival of this creature. Another coach had also pulled up in the car park, so there was a queue for the loos and the cold drinks cabinet in the information centre.

But we were soon on our way again. This area is largely devoted to wheat, and is known as the Hay Plain – it was, until very recently, the second largest wheat producing area in the world to the US prairies. The River Murray runs for 2.5,000 kms in this area, and is used for irrigation for almost it’s entire length, growing large amounts of grapes near to the river and wheat further out. In the 1860’s there was an important port in this town, but with the onset of the railways, the port declined quickly.

For lunch we were stopping in Mildura, situated on the banks of the River Murray. As we crossed over the bridge across the river, into the town, we crossed from New South Wales into Victoria. Mildura appeared to be another forgotten backwater, like all the other towns we have stopped at on this tour. A farmer tried to claim the land here in the 1860s, but didn’t have the necessary license to purchase the land, and while he was off trying to get the correct documentation, a couple known as the James brothers, stepped in and bought the land, and re-named it Mildura – meaning ‘red earth’ in Aborigine. The brothers sold out at a massive profit some ten years later.

There are wide boulevards, with green swathes planted with trees and shrubs, separating the traffic. This city is very proud of its rose gardens, and lots of bushes of shrub roses were all in bloom along these central reservations and smelt sweet. We found a bakery for lunch, before wandering down to the riverside – there was a lot of water in this major river and all the lawns and gardens were green, and the plants blooming. What some farmers wouldn’t give to have access to this water supply.

This town has one of the longest roads in Australia in a residential area – Deakin Avenue – 12.5 kms – named in honour of Alfred Deakin (any relation to John?) who helped the town prosper through irrigation and later became the Prime Minister of Australia. He persuaded two American brothers – William and George Chaffrey to come from the US to this area and install irrigation systems underground, to reduce the water lost due to evaporation. As the town prospered and grew, he also helped design the town on a grid system, using names of products grown here at the time for the names of roads, such as Olive, Walnut and Orange Road, crossed by numerical avenues – such as Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Avenue.
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It is very hard to know how these towns still make a living today – there may be some tourism, and possibly all the locals come into town at the weekend to spend, but even so, there are dozens of restaurants/cafes and a long high street with probably a hundred or more small individual shops. Outside the town there are malls, containing all the larger supermarkets and retail chains, such as K Mart and Woolworths (a huge chain of food supermarkets and even hypermarkets – much bigger than in England) and McDonalds.

Leaving the town, we left the green landscape behind and returned to the scrubby, stunted vegetation we had already seen so much of. We saw several signs saying “No Fruit – No Fine”. About an hour down the road, (around 100 kms) we came to the border between Victoria and South Australia, just a marker by the side of the road. But about one hundred yards further on, was a large Dunlop rubber tyre arching over the road, with a shed at the roadside. An official in a Nike cap and red nylon overall, came on board to check that we were not carrying any fresh produce – the whole point of the sign – nothing fresh can be taken into South Australia for fear of contamination or infection. If anyone is found with anything fresh in their possession, the items are confiscated and destroyed and you can be severely fined. The car in front of us had some avocados taken from them, but Ruben had warned us earlier, so we were prepared. Our first task after the border check was to put our clocks back for half an hour! – this must be one of the only places in the world where the clocks change only half an hour – we will be changing them again when we enter the Northern Territory as there are four time zones in Australia. We are now 11 ½ hours ahead of England.

We then sped on to our regulation afternoon “coffee” stop at Renmark. Nobody really wanted much more than a drink, but the driver still had another 250 kms to drive before reaching Adelaide, so we had to stop. Often a Mississippi steamboat is berthed on the river here, but not today. Houseboats are very popular and many were moored along the riverbank. Leaving this town, the landscape changed rapidly, back to rolling hills and plains with trees sprinkled over the fields, similar to that outside Sydney yesterday. The wheat started to look really yellow and healthy and was interspersed with huge groves of grapes. We passed the Wolfblass and Barbarossa and Penfold wineries – some of the best wines from Australia are produced in this region.

About 40 kms from Adelaide, we saw the first signs of suburbs – there had been very few settlements along the route today, except those we stopped at – as estates of bungalows were being developed and offered for sale – about A$200,000. The residential areas became more prolific and at every traffic intersection large shopping malls had sprung up offering all the major brands of car, food, restaurant/food halls and electronics. It wasn’t until we almost reached the centre of the city that we saw any buildings taller than one storey – and even then just a few skyscrapers (mostly hotels and finance blocks) amid older colonial buildings that looked clean and restored that were mostly public buildings – library, museum or art gallery. The whole city looks clean, with lots of parkland and lakes and fountains.

Our hotel – the Stamford Plaza – named after Stamford Raffles, the Singapore man - was a tall, modern building, right in the centre of town. We were allocated our rooms while the porters sorted all the luggage. Our room was on the 9th floor, but unfortunately only looked out on to the flat roofs of other nearby buildings. It is fairly large by comparison with those we have stayed in recently, and well equipped, - the huge bed looks very comfy. This will do fine – shame it’s only for tonight. There is a pool here, but there was no time to try it out, as we had to be down for dinner by 19.30.

Being a tour group, we were fed in a separate area of the hotel, off the main bar (can’t be bad as we could refill our drinks at will). The food was very good, and both Colin and I ate our first Australian chargrilled steak since we ate at The Shack on Koh Samui. We are looking forward to more Aussie cow while we are in the country. We are very pleased with the standards here, which bodes well for when we stay in other hotels in this chain later on whilst we are in Australia and New Zealand,

The weather today has been warm – well up into the top twenties – but this afternoon a few dark clouds floated overhead, but no rain fell. Later the sky became covered in high white clouds looking like flowing patterns painted on blue paper. Tomorrows forecast for the area is it to be even hotter – in the low thirties – with the possibility of an odd shower late in the afternoon.

In the morning we are having a city tour of Adelaide, before heading off to Clare Valley for a wine tasting, which should be interesting – a couple of people are already complaining that they don’t drink wine and Colin is negotiating to consume their drinks – a visit to Dublin in the past comes to mind – oh dear – another virus!!!!!

Setting Off For The Outback

Monday 30 October

It didn’t seem we had been in bed any time at all when the alarm went off at 05.30, but we quickly showered and dressed, before the hotel man called us for breakfast. This house is very similar to lots of Victorian houses in England in that it has a kitchen in an ‘extension’ off the back room. The open courtyard space beside the ‘extension’ had been turned into a conservatory, with green iron furniture and flowery plastic tablecloths and lots of parlour palms to give it atmosphere. Fruit, cereals and bread, together with toaster were presented on a large dresser with a marble shelf along one wall. We helped ourselves to peach halves, prunes and cornflakes, before assaulting the toasting machine. Having eaten my slice of toast, the main man came round with piping hot croissants, straight from the oven, crisp and buttery and irresistible. All this in less than twenty minutes. We had had a warm welcome at this guest house and spent a comfortable night (on a soft bed, compared to what we have slept on recently), so will have no nightmares about returning in a month or so.

As we struggled to get our suitcases to the pavement, the hotel man waved a lone passing taxi and persuaded him to take us to “Star City” the meeting place for our tour. Sydney was just waking up to a Monday morning return to work after the weekend, and the traffic was beginning to build as we passed through the city centre to the other side of Darling Harbour. When the taxi driver dropped us off, we could see no sign of where we were supposed to meet, except for two coaches parked up the road. Behind us, through a narrow gap between waterfalls, I spied another coach and on closer inspection, we found a bus station, with a desk and attendant for AAT Kings, who pointed us in the right direction for our pick up point.

There were already half a dozen other people (with small cases) waiting at the bus stop. We had been told to be there by 07.20 at the very latest as the coach would go without us if we were not there by 07.30. About 07.50 a coach, already half full, pulled up beside us – the rest of our tour group having been picked up at a different collection point. Suitcases were loaded into the hold on the side of the coach, with no comment about the weight – another couple – Bob and Gwen from Newcastle, New South Wales – had told us they only had 11 kgs each – what bliss.

Ruben our tour leader and Paul our driver introduced themselves, and informed us there were people from Australia – that was Bob and Gwen – and Denmark, Switzerland, Germany, the US, Canada and of course England on this tour. It turned out that there is couple from Colchester – Christine and Rod, as well as ourselves from Blighty, but we havenn’t spoken to them very much so far. Most peple seemed to be well in their 60’s and even 70’s, but all quite sprightly – even though the American ladies are “huge”. Ruben outlined the day, told us the do’s and don’t about traveling on the coach, and some information about the country we would be passing through. And then we settled back into our comfy seats – near the back of the coach, as all those on before us were seated in the front half, so Bob and Gwen (also Harris’es) and ourselves sat near the back - for the start of a long journey – 7,500 kms from Sydney to Darwin – almost 5000 miles. The coach is about a year old, and really comfortable with a loo (preferably for emergencies only).

Once we had traveled out of the city, the landscape became very dry and dusty and we were told that from Sydney to Goldburn – where we would stop for a tea break – and beyond, they were suffering severe drought conditions, up to Level 5 (1 being low and 5 being the most serious). While in Koh Samui we had seen pictures of huge forest fires in the Sydney area, because it was so dry, and the situation has not eased at all. The landscape was reminiscent of Wiltshire’s rolling hills and Salisbury Plain, with large open areas of grassland sprinkled with trees (if you have seen a painting of a 19th century country house with its surrounding parkland, you know just what this scenery looked like – very Jane Austen). Sadly there were many grey stumps and large bare tree trunks fallen on the ground that had obviously died already through lack of water. Most of the agriculture in this area was cows, with a few sheep and horses.

We followed the very straight road known as Hume Highway all the way to Goldbourn, arriving about 11.00 for a coffee break. This town was founded in 1825 as men wanted to move away from the city to farm. As the area became more developed – Mr Hume built the road to connect the settlement to Sydney, and even more people came and settled in the area. A Court House was built here to deal with escaped convicts who fled to the wilderness areas around this town, and a plaque in the gardens commemorates the jail, morgue and hanging site of the 1860’s (the morgue’s still there, but with a new Italianate design court house). In 1869 Goldbourn received “city status” and is still the largest city away from the coast in New South Wales. It has a long main high street, with many cafes. The residential area is all single storey “bungalows” (with a small covered in area outside the front door) or “federation dwellings”, still single storey, but with verandah all the way round – looking very 19th century colonial. The sun was out and the whole town seemed a sleepy, sunny hollow, almost forgotten in time. Parents were playing with children in the small park, a few people were shopping and others chatting over coffees at the pavement cafes. The whole pace of life was gentle and laid back – you couldn’t ever imagine anyone rushing. The trees here appear similar to ours, although I am sure they are not – it is springtime here any deciduous trees should just be getting new leaves now but they still have their old ones – although the leaves look tired and ready to fall – probably due to the drought. There are lots of eucalyptus, what look like silver birch with white bark on their trunks and red gum trees – which come in all shapes and sizes from small petite trees, to ones with trunks about 3 metres round. The only bright green trees are the willows, which line every creek, even if there is no longer any water. There are some flowering plants like hebes with red flowers and beautiful jacaranda trees, full of mauve flowers, but no leaves.

Following the short break, we continued on the Hume Highway, through an area dedicated to farming - mainly sheep – of which three-quarters are Merino, bred for their wool. We passed a sign saying “Dog on Tuckerbox”, pointing towards a service station area. Apparently there was a song made about a tale handed down through generations which led to a small statue being erected in recognition. A farmer in the 1850’s was having a bad time, the weather had washed away his crops, the yoke had broke on his oxen and then to add to his misery, his dog had defecated on his tuckerbox, which he was supposed to be guarding. This story was passed down, and eventually a rhyme was set to music, which Australians still recognize today. We passed through towns like Gundergai, which had been washed away twice in the 1880’s by serious floods and was eventually rebuilt on the hills around the valley. It is another example of a very sleepy country town.

We stopped for lunch (between 15.00 and 16.00 – a bit late) at Wagga Wagga – meaning “too many crows!”. Today, it is a pastoral community supporting about 130 -140,000 beef and dairy cows and 1.5 million sheep. I did see a farmer on his tractor with two sheep dogs, rounding up a huge flock of sheep, presumably to move them to new pasture. The total population is around 50,000 – its hard to believe that most Chinese towns we visited had several million inhabitants. Today there is an army base and RAAF base here, and thriving university. The city was founded by Charles Sturt (and the university and roads and estates are all named after him), in 1846 when he encouraged people to come here to farm. Wagga Wagga is probably most famous for the longest civil court case in England – a man – Richard Thornbird – died on his way from here to South America, and another man turned up and claimed to be the same Richard. Although the mother agreed he was her son, the courts would not hear of it, and the imposter took his case to London, to be heard. They heard it for ten years from 1864 - 1874! And finally decided he was an imposter – a butcher by trade - and he received 14 years in jail for perjury. Lots of flies kept attacking us as we walked up and down the high street and around the local park – but Ruben assures us there is worse to come.

Onward on our journey towards our resting place tonight at Griffith. Just outside the town we saw a road nameplate saying “Thirteen Mile Road” pointing to a made up track leading over the nearby hill – not very inventive, but obviously informative. The landscape was now changing from dry dusty pasture to ‘fields’ of gold and green. The Murrumbidgee Irrigation Authority was set up after an engineer Samuel McCarty saw the potential for farming if he could irrigate this area using water from the Murrumbidgee river. He developed a system using pipes (today they are made from polythene), laid underground around the fields, taking water from the river to the crops – the gradient just had to be higher at the river and lower in the fields. The area prospered under his supervision and soon the Government looked at what Samuel McCarty had achieved and went on to develop and expand his ideas even further. Today, the area is green and gold, growing wheat and barley, rice, lucerne for animal feed, together with vines, citrus fruits and 90% of the Valencia oranges produced in New South Wales. There were acres and acres of small vine trees, producing grapes for wine, but this area has never achieved the popularity of other areas in the region like Hunter Valley, Clare Valley, Barrossa Estate, etc, and most of this wine is sold fairly cheaply – even though it is acceptable plonk. The area relies stongly on cheap backpacker labour to pick the fruit (there just aren’t enough locals to do the job), which in turn puts the money they spend back in the local economy. William Burleigh Griffin designed both the towns of Leeton and Griffith, as well as Canberra – all planned on the wheel system with a central hub and spokes emanating from it. Griffiths, like Leeton, was set up for the workers building the canals for the irrigation system. In 1912 there was a large influx of Italians to this region who also knew something about growing grapes, and so the farming community grew and prospered over the next four or five generations, till today. But the Italians were also famous for the Mafia – and when in the 1970s a business man, Donald McCain, led a campaign against the Italian families growing marijuana in the area, and he suddenly disappeared, everyone knew the mafia was responsible, but no body has ever been found and no evidence retrieved against any person. When we were almost at Griffiths we passed some stands of trees along the road, and here we spied two sets of emus, some very big, running around in their almost comic style. Hopefully we shall see some kangaroos later in the tour, but sadly it is unlikely we shall meet koala bears, as they are very difficult to find in the wild these days in the areas we will be visiting.

Arriving at our accommodation for the night, we found we are staying in a “motor inn”. We have passed loads of these on the way here, and they are obviously very popular. Our room is spacious (about the size of our bungalow in Koh Samui) – we have a double and a single bed, and a shower room. The dinner tonight was a set meal, and we had had to choose our dishes earlier in the day. Both Colin and myself were surprised at the standard of food - it was very tasty and appetizingly presented. I had a chicken Caesar salad, followed by a veal stack with aubergines, courgettes, tomatoes and cheese, and a cheesecake with passion fruit sauce, while Colin also had the Caesar salad, but followed by fillet of perch (a meaty white fish) with vegetables and an apple and strawberry honey crumble with cream (doesn’t that sound just like him – bless him!). We had been invited to a “getting to know you” get together before the meal with a free drink, where we chatted to several members of our new group. Many have traveled extensively – particularly the Americans and the Canadians, and most are over here for 6 – 8 weeks, several going on to New Zealand before returning home. We are picking up more people in Adelaide tomorrow and at Ayers Rock (?!) later in the week, while some will be leaving at Alice Springs and Katherine. But there are some who are traveling all the way to Darwin as we are.

Tomorrow is another long drive, this time to Adelaide – about 800 kms (500 miles!), so we have to be up for the third morning running soon after 05.00. The Australians on this tour tell us Adelaide is the best city in Australia, really beautiful, so we are looking forward to seeing it for ourselves.

Flight To Oz

Sunday 29 October

Today is quite a milestone – leaving Asia after three months and reaching Australia – the real other side of the world. We were up at 05.00 and at breakfast before it officially opened to ensure we met the taxi, arranged by a very helpful concierge, for 07.00.

The taxi driver chatted all the way, and wanted to know all about our tour – he couldn’t comprehend traveling all that way – even though he drives miles every day for a living. The road approaching the airport is very long and very straight, with every colour of bougainvillea flowers in large wooden tubs along the centre – some flowers were even multi-coloured, as they had been cross-bred. The driver explained that this road had been built as an emergency runway for the airport, and should it be needed the tubs could be quickly removed – what a good idea. We arrived at Terminal 2 at Changi Airport just before 07.30, nly to find our plane was due to leave from Terminal 1! (we didn’t even appreciate that there were two terminals), so we had to get the Skytrain for the short journey to the correct terminal. Once there, everything was well signposted and we soon found the Quantas desk and booked in. We were traveling in a 747, which has half a dozen rows at the back of the aircraft that have only two seats on the side, instead of three, and we were allocated one set of these 72 A and B. As the flight is over seven hours, we will need to be able to get up and down.

We made our way to Gate 23 and settled down to wait. While in the loo, I found a passport and boarding pass, and had to explore the terminal to find the information desk to hand it in. I later saw the lady frantically looking all round for her documents and was able to tell her where to find them – earned me my brownie points for the day. I spent the rest of the waiting time, blogging, frantically trying to catch up with the last day or so. Most of the seventy five rows of seats will be taken, as three flights have been amalgamated – British Airways, Singapore Airlines and Quantas. Boarding was called promptly at 09.00 after going through yet another security check to get into the waiting area. We were called to board by row numbers and as we made our way forward, an older man and I collided as two lines joined and he made some deprecating comment, as if it was all my fault! We found our seats, and the plane took off only a few minutes after the due time of 09.30.

Of course, we hadn’t been in the air long before the obligatory meals arrived – pasta with aubergine and mushrooms, with a roll and butter, and a fun size bar of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk (Ray would have been swapping his meal for everyone else’s chocolate!), served with red wine and a cup of tea. Later they brought round choc-ices, bottles of water and bananas, which were all very much appreciated. Colin and I both watched a Bruce Willis film – “16 Blocks” – which was a quite exciting, predictable, good cop/bad cop story. We had the choice of eight films, some Australian television programmes, a news channel, and about twenty radio stations – at least they keep you entertained on the long flight. I then blogged till the batteries ran out, while Colin watched another film with Jack Nicholson. About 15.00 Singapore time round came the trolley dollies again with more food – this time cheese and ham toasted ciabatta rolls, with orange juice, fresh fruit salad and lemon shortbread biscuits and tea to drink. The food has been quite tasty and some of the best airplane food we have eaten. It was then the captain informed us that Sydney had changed to “daylight saving time” yesterday and was now three hours ahead of Singapore – so it was now 18.00, with just two more hours of flying, and we are now ten hours ahead of England. The skies had been clear ever since we flew over the shoreline into Australia at the north west corner of the country. The land appeared at first to be very flat red rock, broken in places by a few dried river courses but hardly any roads. It went on and on eventually becoming more hilly (they may be mountains but at 35, 000 feet they looked quite small) scarred with deeply defined ravines – it was just like looking at an aerial photograph in sepia tints. We appeared to be somewhere near Ayers Rock on the flight plan, but I couldn’t see any signs of life. We then flew over a huge salt bed – an oval shape of what looked like white sand in a very shallow bowl. There were two teardrops of other rocks protruding through to one side, which just accentuated the whiteness of the salt. It was then back to red desert, this time dissected by a larger meandering river bed, which could have been the Darling River, and outcrops of more hills. Everywhere appeared to be bare and barren. We approached Broken Hill on the plan, where the Flying Doctors operate from, and the scenery began to change – some large areas (fields the size of about ten football pitches?) were marked out – could these be ranches? – you couldn’t tell from our distance. It wasn’t until we neared landing time, that the scenery changed to become more green with scrub and then trees – we had been flying for about four hours over dessert landscape – it makes you appreciate just how large this country is.

The rest of the flight was uneventful and we landed just as twilight was fading over the city and the street lights were coming on. We did manage to see the Sydney harbour bridge with the Opera House behind, as we wheeled in towards the airport – they looked quite small from the air – but I don’t think the bridge will be any bigger than the ‘Spender’ Bridge in Newcastle. We could also see the the harbour and the coastline, just beyond. As we landed we seemed to pass very low over a main road, but the cars just kept on driving, obviously not at all worried by “low flying aircraft”.

We disembarked quite quickly, especially seeing we were at the back of the plane, and the only exit was through business class near the front. Our luggage went round the carousel twice, as a man blocked Colin’s path to it, by elbowing him in the ear. But the wait wasn’t long. There are some very strict regulations about entering Australia – no food including crisps and sweets as well as the usual fresh fruit, vegetables and plants ban, and no dirt on your shoes. Having got through passport control quite easily, we were then channeled through the quarantine area, where about twenty check out desks were “manned” by at least two staff at each point. At the first ones, the staff were opening and inspecting all items in the luggage, but we were directed further down the line (perhaps because when they looked at our arrival cards they saw “tourists”) and our cases were carefully scrutinized once again on the screen. The personnel questioned us about what was in our bags and cases and asked us to identify some shapes – including my box of Pringles (no food- oh dear) but when I said they had been unopened, they let us through – they were quite bemused by our coloured cases, and probably thought us harmless. We carried on through to the Arrivals hall, where we easily spotted the man taking us to the Hotel – as the dossier said: “he will be wearing a red hat” – yes a bright pillar box red cowboy style hat. He also had to pick up two other people, and we waited and waited for about three quarters of an hour for them to come off the train – they were the very last passengers through - and sod’s law, it was the man who had collided with me on boarding and his wife. She had had food in her bag which they confiscated – which meant more form filling I presume, and their English was poor. The man didn’t speak to us at all, but the driver was quite fed up with them because he was waiting to go home. They didn’t know the address of their hotel either, (there are three hotels called Pacific Continental in Sydney apparently) so he had to search their paperwork for the information, causing even more delays.

We eventually arrived at the guest house we are staying in for tonight, and when we return to Sydney in four weeks time. It is a very old fashioned terrace house – Victorian in style – and we have a room on the ground floor, which was helpful as it meant we didn’t have to carry our cases upstairs – its too old for a lift. We settled in – the room still has the original wrought iron fireplace and marble surround, but a small en-suite shower room has bee added. The whole thing reminds me of Elton Parade needing some attention. But the bed is soft – we are not used to that, and we have to be up early again tomorrow to join the tour on the other side of town by 07.30. We tried to find something of interest on the television, but it was all soaps, award ceremonies, CSI (which I left on) and adverts – Aussies probably live outdoors too much to have any decent programmes to watch. The driver told us it should be about 23 degrees tomorrow – hope so as I haven’t too many clothes for cold weather.

Time now to finish blogging and try to post the last three days accounts.

PS: Amazingly I cannot get connected tonight – perhaps they have all gone to bed as it is well after midnight!

Weight Off and Weight On!

Saturday 28 October

When we opened the curtains this morning the sun was reflecting off the building opposite on to our faces – it was going to be another hot day.

Breakfast was a very civilized meal – being shown to a table, with heavy silver cutlery and proper napkins and a vast array of different foods from Chinese soups and dim sum, to Japanese noodles and what looked like blackcurrant jelly, but I am sure it wasn’t, cheese and cold meats to all the ingredients for an English breakfast. Then, of course, there was a range of breads, croissants and cakes. Enough for Colin to partake of several courses – but disaster struck - he couldn’t find any cereals! Instead he chose fruit and yogurt and of course the full English. On going to find the toaster later, he came across the cornflakes – so interrupted his regime for cereal and more yogurt now, before proceeding to the toast and marmalade stage! Then back for more yogurt – it is much easier to have a small breakfast of fruit and croissants.

Our tours with Kumuka finished with breakfast today. It is hard to believe it is only three weeks ago that we were flying from Koh Samui to Bangkok to pick up the first tour – and how difficult it was to get back into traveling mode. Although we have been severely critical of some of the standards of accommodation and travel provided by Kumuka, (and wouldn’t recommend them as a travel company to others) the hotels in Bangkok, Penang, and Singapore were fine, and even the one in Kuala Lumpur was OK, once you got used to the Chinese market directly outside the door. But we have had a great time overall, and experienced so many things we wouldn’t have done on a 5*AA tour – which we will always remember – rafting, tubing, trekking, elephants and cycling, to name but a few of the physical highlights and we have seen different levels of life in each of the countries we have visited. We have also met some wonderful people, from Pok our first tour leader, Jill, Linda and Phil who were with us for the first two weeks and Paul our last guide. And who could forget Donna’s laugh, Mick and Garry’s drinking and smoking binges, and Simone’s craving to be first at everything. Now we had only one more day to see more of Singapore before moving on to Australia.

But our first task was to find the local post office – near where we had breakfast yesterday – to purchase a large cardboard box to send home “stuff” that we had collected or no longer needed, in an effort to lighten our load. The man was very helpful, and we returned to the hotel to sort through our cases one more time. We managed to accumulate 9.4 kgs of items not required for the remainder of our trip, which just about fitted in the box. Back at the post office we used nearly a whole large roll of wide sellotape to try and ensure safe delivery of our belongings back in England. The postage cost S$ 75 – about 25 GBP but was worth every penny.

It was then time to explore – we headed for Boat Quay – and whilst looking at the map to ensure it really was “straight down the road a way”, a Singapore couple stopped to help and suggested we visited Chijmes on the way – an old convent school that has been renovated and turned into a smart bar and restaurant complex, with several very expensive, but intriguing shops to browse. Eventually (when Colin managed to drag me away) we arrived at Boat Quay and took a river cruise up and down the Singapore River to see “the old, the present and the future”. With a booming commentary, we passed the old traders’ godown buildings of Boat Quay and Clarke Quay, that have now all been converted to yet more bars and restaurants. This area is particularly popular at night with tourists. We saw the Fullerton Hotel, once the main post office building of the city – an architectural delight on the waterfront, the Asian Civilisations Museum, that looked like it had once been a very grand house with its own personal quay, and many more amazing structures that have been renovated and refurbished back to their old splendour. The present is represented by towering skyscrapers, making parts of the horizon look like a mini-Manhattan. But as in Berlin, many interesting designs and features had been incorporated in the planning, so they are never boring. The future is represented by buildings like the concert hall and theatre – a huge dome structure covered in diamond shapes that sparkle in the sun, and looks like something from outer space – it is used for education and gives opportunities for new performers as well as the well-established. There is a lot of development still taking place in the city, but it is in keeping with the environment and surroundings.

After the boat trip, we explored the Quays a little more, before walking back to the hotel – pass Hill Street Police Station – an interesting building now painted with different colour windows in each section – a real rainbow. It is situated at the junction of a major crossroads (on Hill Steet), and was originally built in the 1850’s as the first Police Station in Singapore and the jail. It is now part of the Ministry of Arts and houses small theatres for fringe groups, as well as offices. (Was it was the forerunner of Hill Street Police Station in New York?) Next door was another large old pale grey building, housing the local Fire Station. I took some photos which I promised to sent to Alex (by the time we get home he will probably have lost interest in fire engines).

No trip to Singapore would be complete without visiting Raffles Hotel and we had booked to have HighTea at 15.30 this afternoon. It was only a block away to walk. Sir Stamford Raffles founded Singapore as a trading post in 1819, and he left a legacy of economic stability and law abiding citizens, which has been passed down through the generations as Singapore has grown to be one of the world’s most important ports. At the hotel we changed into our best clothes – I wore a dress for the first time since leaving Koh Samui, and we made our way to the `the Bar in the Billiard Room’. The room wasn’t as glitzy as I had expected - I thought it would be like the Ritz in London, but it was a gentleman’s room, with lots of dark wood and button backed seats. We were seated at a table at the edge of the room, so we could see all that was going on. We were one of the early arrivals, but gradually the room filled up. Menus arrived giving the options of two sets of food – “Raffles Set” - three tiers (three plates in a silver holder: first tier - egg and ham sandwiches, chicken pie, a crab croissant, and a bagel with smoked salmon and cream cheese – all of course, mini sizied. Second tier: cakes and pastries - a small cube of moist fruit cake, soft chocolate tartlet, fresh fruit tartlet, strawberry rum-baba and a crisp chocolaty biscuit. Third tier: scones, with strawberry jam, orange marmalade and thick cream. This was my choice. The other option was “Sarkeys Set” – with more Asian flavours. First tier: steamed spring roll, spicy chicken, vegetable samosa and a sweet pastry stuffed with tamarind (often eaten by Indian people as an appetizer). Second tier: slightly different cakes and pastries, including a green and chocolate very thinly striped cake, and a coconut covered mousse with runny chocolate inside, as well as fruit tartlet and mini rum-baba – this time topped with peach. Third tier: scones. About six pages of the menu were devoted. There was an option to have champagne as well – and who could resist a glass of bubbly in a setting like this? All this was served from a huge dark wood bar area in the centre. There were large flower arrangements in dramatic reds and oranges, as well as some very unusual chandeliers. We thoroughly enjoyed our splurge – it cost S$107 including service and tax, less than 40GBP - but a real treat after some of the more basic establishments we have visited this week,

After tea, we wandered through the ground floor of the hotel, much of which is now given over to concessions, such as Tiffany’s, Louis Vuitton, expensive clothes shops and, of course a souvenir shop selling everything with “Raffles” name on it (I bought two fridge magnets and a post card!) It had been fun to look. It was then back to reality at the hotel – change back into our poor man’s gear (just like Cinderella after the ball) and have one last attempt to pack our suitcases. Mine seemed considerably lighter now – but the proof will come at the airport tomorrow. On the way back, we passed through streets already displaying their Christmas decorations – mainly poinsettia designs in garlands across the street and red lanterns from the lamp posts, but there were large blow-up Father Christmas’s and reindeer in the shops, signs for Christmas cards and notices urging you to buy now before the Christmas rush. Oh how pleased I am to be away from all that hype– I am sure I will miss it on Christmas Day, and even during December, but not now before Halloween.

It was now time to hit the town again – and look for some cocktails. The most likely place seemed the Quays, so we wandered in that direction. Many of the waiters and waitresses in the cafes and bars here were dressed for Halloween, with scary white faces and lots of ‘blood’ oozing from “wounds”, although not a pumpkin in sight – really weird. It was only about 19.30, but already the place was buzzing – loads of people doing just the same thing as us. There were a few people doing something different – bunjy jumping – Singapore style. A cage holding three seats, was attached by stretchy leads on each side to two tall “pylons” a short distance away. Those intrepid (barmy) volunteers, were harnessed in their seats (they had to remove glasses and shoes, but there were no head restraints) and then slowly the elastic “wires” were stretched up to the top of the pylons – about 30 - 40 feet. Once they reached the top the organizer flipped a switch and they were jettisoned more than 50 feet into the air, spinning and twirling, as they bounced up and down on the elastic. There was, understandably, a lot of screaming from the cage (more girls than boys seemed to be taking part), and a lot of gasps from the large audience gathered around. As they slowed and came to a stop, they were still suspended 20 feet above the ground, for quite a few minutes to give them time to recover before being winched down to earth. But they seemed quite steady once they stepped out of the chairs. Rather them, not me.

We found a bar and had cocktails, Singapore slings, of course and Blue Balis (a vodka, Malibu, pineapple and watermelon concoction, with lots of fresh mint). Very different but quite pleasant – it was alcohol for goodness sake! Around 21.30 we mooched around both Quays looking for a light bite to eat, and ended up in a Balinese restaurant, selling food that seemed to be a fusion of Thai and Malaysian, with a bit of Chinese and Indian thrown in for good measure. They provided mini poppadums with very hot chilli sauce as an appetizer, and we chose satays and mini barbequed skewers of chicken, beef and prawn with a sweet chilli dip to start, followed by chilli squid, lamb in a red sauce, vegetables in coconut sauce, and Indonesian rice – just a light snack – but the portions were small. The food was tasty but the flavours seemed confused, and didn’t always compliment each other. More cocktails and beers finished the meal off nicely, before a stroll back to the hotel to walk off some of the calories.

We have been amazed here by the lack of traffic problems – it does stack up at traffic lights sometimes - but the lights work in rotation. Many of the roads are very straight, in a



(many main roads are one way, so lights are three way plus pedestrians)

It was nearly midnight by this time, and much too late to write this blog, so I am now writing it on the plane on the way to Australia the following day.

It is hard to believe that we will be leaving Asia tomorrow, having first entered this continent whilst on the Trans-Siberian train at the start of August and traveling on through China, Thailand and Malaysia to get here to Singapore, almost three months later. We will miss the Asian way of life and idiosyncrasies that vary from race to race, but are all based on similar cultures. We have had a really good time and some experiences that we couldn’t possibly imagined and will never forget. I am sure we will be back in Asia – South East Asia anyway - sometime in the near future and I look forward to my return – Tibet, India, Thailand, Singapore – how can I best fit them into one journey? Australia has a lot to live up to.

Saved The Best For Last

Friday 27 October

Malaysian trains are just a step up from Thailand trains – the mattresses are just a little more comfy and the ride a little less bumpy – and consequently we slept a little longer – despite the fact that the man above me was snoring very loudly every time I woke up. I was finally awoken by the announcement over the PA system that we would be arriving at the Malaysian border in twenty minutes (ie 06.00), and sure enough, guards were awaiting our arrival at the check in point as we pulled in, exactly on time. A team of four worked their way through our carriage, inspecting and signing passports and collecting our departure documents – no problems getting out of Malaysia, like there were getting in. Once the whole train had been checked, we moved on for another ten minutes, across the causeway to arrive at the Singapore border – the roads running alongside the railway track were at a standstill with coachloads of Malaysians waiting to cross to go to work. There were also hundreds of motorcyclists weaving through the traffic with the same purpose.

Train passengers now had to disembark, with all their belongings and pass through the security check (there was only one conveyor belt that took large cases) and then on to passport control, where our entry documents were taken and passports stamped again. We all had to queue then, to wait for the doors to open to allow us back on the platform – it was like waiting for the first day of the sales to start – everyone raring to go. We had seen police officers checking every carriage with sniffer dogs – presumably looking for traces of drugs. The train was packed with Indian people, mostly coming to Singapore for a holiday - apparently it is one of their favourite destinations – and while we were queuing, they were pushing their way into any minute space that could be found, with all their luggage (their cases might not be as heavy as ours, but they seem to have about three or four each, many of the older citizens hardly able to carry them all) – one old gentleman even made it almost to the doors!

Once back on the train it was only a short ride into the main station at Singapore – a real disappointment – I had expected it to be smart and possibly colonial in style – after all the Eastern Orient Express starts and finishes here – but in fact it was just a run down station, in much need of some modernization and redecoration – it almost appeared ‘dirty’ – and I thought Singapore was supposed to be clinically clean! A driver named ‘Harris’ met us and whizzed us to our hotel, situated centrally in the city on Victoria Street – close to shopping, sights, public transport and clubs. The traffic had been very light – surprising for start-of-work time on a Friday morning. First impressions of the hotel were very good – it was a bright, glass fronted, modern hotel, with friendly concierge staff. Unfortunately when we reached Reception, on the first floor, we were told our rooms would not be ready for at least half an hour – as it was only 08.30 that was quite understandable. Paul took us to breakfast at a small Italian style cafe just across the road, by the National Library – a very interesting glass and white frame building that seemed to be trying to catch as much light as possible. The café had a varied menu, and most had some form of cooked breakfast, while I had a spicy tuna foccata – with Earl Grey tea!

Back at the hotel, our rooms still weren’t quite ready (and they would be smoking rooms, but Paul asked specially if they could be sprayed well so that they didn’t smell smoky – non-smoking rooms would not be available till mid-afternoon and we all really wanted a shower). So I posted a couple of blogs and checked emails. By that time, our room was cleaned and we collected our luggage and made for the lifts. We couldn’t make the lift go up – we pushed the button and the door close and door open buttons in various orders, to no effect. Eventually one of the staff came and showed us that we needed to insert our door key into the lift before it would work! – first time we have come across that, but it seems a good security idea.

Our room has all the attributes of a standard 4*, but is clean and comfortable and definitely doesn’t smell! We immediately set about having a shower and sorting the laundry, before meeting Paul and another driver – Chinese this time – for a tour of the city (we should have walked around, but Paul appreciated that after a night on the train, we might be somewhat exhausted – we weren’t too bad, but Warren didn’t make it and SS and Tim were feeling really tired!)

We drove just a short distance to the Arab quarter of the city famous for its silks and carpets. We wandered around the small souk-like shops – the materials were beautiful and once again I wished I could wear a sari – but when? while collecting the Indian take-away? There were lots of knick-knack shops that I could have spent hours browsing around, but we were shepherded back to the minibus to continue the tour – maybe we will get time to come back tomorrow. We drove around the city, the driver pointing out all the buildings of interest, taking us to the river, to China town where there was a large open air market, an Indian temple, and the wealthy condominium areas, where new houses cost anything from S$ 1 billion! – you really need to win the lottery big time to live here. In fact, the cost of living is high in Singapore and most of the poorly paid workers live in Malaysia and travel in – hence the traffic jams morning and evening.

We visited the botanical gardens for ‘ten minutes’ – a huge great parkland area with ginger gardens, orchid conservatories, and several lakes to explore. Ten minutes was hardly enough time to go to the loo! It seemed a very interesting area, peaceful and a great place for a stroll, so if we ever come back, we shall have to make time for a proper visit. We drove on to find some ‘take-away lunch and came across a Burger King in a large shopping complex – the driver stopped on double yellow lines, urged us quickly out of the vehicle, and while he was turning round, we all bought burgers and chips! We hastily jumped back on board with our goodies and were seemingly driven around the city again, to find the entrance to Fort Canning Hill and the “Battle Box” our last “sight” as the driver finished his tour here. We found a bench and ate our lunch in the parkland.

Having munched our fill we climbed the hill to the “Battle Box” – an underground bomb-proof bunker, about 9 metres underground, where General Percival reached his fateful decision to surrender Singapore to the invading Japanese army on 15 February 1942. The ticket office was full of about 100 youths around 18 years of age – this site was obviously popular – but then we found out that these young men were subjects of conscription – all young men from Singapore have to join the army for two years at the age of 18 – or if for some reason they have a dispensation at that time, as early as possible afterwards. One of their first duties is to see the “Battle Box” and understand the importance of the museum. We would have to wait about three-quarters of an hour, till the next civilian tour. Although we were quite weary by this stage, we all agreed to wait, sitting around chatting to stop anyone dropping off to sleep.

About half an hour later, one of the guides beckoned us and together with a few other ‘civilians’ from Germany and Australia, we started the tour. The guide soon told us he was 70 years of age, son of Portuguese parents living in Malacca at the time of the Second World War, and he remembers the Japanese invasion of Malaya and Singapore vividly, as a seven year old. He took us down into the museum – a network of rooms with waxwork figures, really lifelike, that very closely resembled the men in photographs displayed at the end of the tour. The figures were animated and ‘spoke’ taking us back in time to that morning in 1942 to experience the last few hours before the historic surrender. The commentary explained the use of the underground rooms and the individual personnel who worked there, as well as the considerations that influenced the decision to surrender. We saw the communications room with the old dolly-eyed switchboards, message rooms with morse code tappers, and runners (all messages were destroyed after four days and code signs changed every other day), the guard room and mess room, and the operations room, where the positions of planes were plotted on a large table map. The guide enhanced the commentary with his own particular slant on what happened – he is still very anti-Japanese (although he would deny this), and pro General MacArthur (“the greatest General ever!” despite the fact he wasn’t actually there, but in the Philippines at the time!) and he has obviously watched every television programme and film about the surrender. But the years under Japanese ‘rule’ and the torture inflicted, has influenced him for the rest of his life and working here for the last eight years, he has become absorbed in that time, and is extremely passionate about life in that era – he explains how he saw Lord Mountbatten at the celebrations for the Japanese surrender in August 1945, everyone whooping for joy, after three years of horrific Japanese treatment.

We strolled back to the hotel after this sombre experience – the weather here is very warm and sapping – there were a few drops of rain whilst we were eating our lunch, but the driver had told us to count to 100 if it rained, and by the time you finished counting the rain would be finished too – he was right.

At the hotel it was technology time – downloading piccys on to the computer and freeing up camera space, charging batteries and phones, etc. We just had time for another quick shower before we were due to meet Paul for our last dinner of the tour. Again Warren dropped out – he is leaving tomorrow evening for home back in Queensland, Australia and was going clubbing after he had finished his half bottle of Jack Daniels for which he had paid S$50, but Tim and SS came along, despite having sore feet.

Paul had earlier suggested a tour of “Little India” a few streets dedicated to the Indian way of life – shops and restaurants all representing their culture. As Simone was complaining of blisters on the base of her toes, we caught the bus just down the road. It was like our large double deckers, but with a much improved lay out.

The main street in “Little India” is currently lit up with thousands of fairy lights in brilliant hues to celebrate the Deepevali – the entry had a large ‘gateway of lights with a peacock at the pinnacle, ‘fanning’ its tail, which represents Lord Krishna, one of the Indian deities. We window-shopped for a while looking longingly at all the gold jewellery – which is very yellow and often extremely intricate with filigree patterns and sari materials. The restaurant turned out to be another vegetarian Indian “café” – lots of Indians are vegetarians apparently – which was full – mainly of men, on their way home from work, or single men who can eat here cheaply. We had to sit upstairs as all the tables were taken on the ground floor. SS had been sceptical about eating a meal without meat – at 27 I would have thought that she would have experienced vegetarian meals before! – but spoke about getting a steak or chicken later to fill up. Paul ordered for us and we all had a large platter containing a number of flavours – vegetable biryani rice, vegetable curry, spicy potatoes, dahl, raita, poppadums and chapattis, with a very small piece of hot mango pickle – when I asked if I could have extra pickle the waiter suggested I try what I had first, as it was very hot (as if I didn’t know it would be hot – that’s why I wanted it). He didn’t return to see how I got on, so I didn’t get any more pickle. But the food was delicious – the chapattis weren’t as good as those we had in Kuala Lumpur a couple of nights ago, straight off the griddle, but they were still much better that we get at home. Colin practiced the Indian way of eating with his fingers – rice and all – so if he goes to the Blackbirds and starts eating with his fingers we will know why! We all drank mango lassis, a yogurt and fruit drink that was very tasty. Simone admitted that she enjoyed the drink the best, but had found a couple of the dishes very tasty. Tim seemed to enjoy his meal, although he seemed to be very tired. Colin collected the bill that came to S$35 – about 15 GBP for all five of us.

We decided to amble home as the evening was warm and balmy – if only we had this sort of night at home. We wandered in and out of shops, as Simone was determined to spend some more money on trinkets and presents. She also had her hand ‘henna painted’ – which is currently all the rage out here. A lady painted a flower pattern on the back of her left hand and up her index finger – it reminded me of Juz painting plates at Christmas. She had to then leave the henna paint on for about an hour, as the substance stained her skin, before washing it off - the resulting pattern is supposed to last about a month, and cost her S$10 – about 3.75 GBP. We continued on back to the hotel, while Tim and SS went electrical shopping – dvd players, cameras, MP4s – anything to spend their money on. Paul stopped at a roadside stall and bought a ‘Thailand young coconut’ beigy smooth skin, about the size of a small galia melon. The lady chopped the top off the nut with a large machete – don’t get too close when she is swinging that – and we tried the coconut milk – it was too sweet for me, but quite tasty. When all the milk was gone, the lady chopped the coconut in half and with plastic spoons, we were able to spoon out the pulp – it was soft, like a peach, and very creamy and brilliant white. You didn’t get the full coconut flavour until you had eaten it – then it was strong. I loved this part of the fruit.

At the hotel we had to say “Goodbye” to Paul, as he is attending a funeral tomorrow morning, and will not be back in the hotel until Sunday evening (we leave early on Sunday morning). He has been a great tour guide (as good as Pok in an entirely different way – Paul is much more serious, while Pok just had fun), looking after us all the time, and we have enjoyed his company in the evenings as he has shown us how ordinary people live and eat in this region – I think he was glad of our company too. We have not been very impressed with the standards of accommodation and transport for the three Kumuka tours, but Paul has certainly worked hard to ensure that we (and the others) all gained as much as possible from this part of the trip and enjoyed ourselves as much as possible, altering the arranged itinerary to fit in with the weather, traffic and local conditions (that damned national holiday!). Singapore has been “the jewel in the crown” – we really like it here - the atmosphere, the people and the standard of living.

Kuala Lumpur

Thursday 26 October

We spoiled ourselves this morning with a long lie in, before going to the “coffee shop” for breakfast – during the day coffee and pastries are sold in this area, but until 10.00 it’s breaky. Colin managed to find his usual three courses, even though the sausages were chicken.

After a few secretarial duties, we decided to take a stroll around the locality – looking for a pharmacy to stock up on medical supplies. There were not many people around at 10.30 in the morning and even the sun was struggling to shine through – give it another hour and it was melting, even in the shade. We found a bank, and then back-tracked and found a pharmacy which had the bandages I needed for my toes – they are much improved, but as the nail is hanging off one, and loose on the other, I feel it is better to keep them covered for the moment. We ambled back and bought postcards and stamps in a Malaysian shop selling posh souvenirs and I tried to pay with some Thai bahts, instead of Malaysian ringats. Needless to say, the shop girl soon put me right! On the way back to the hotel, we found most of the stalls in the market were now set up, with lots of people bustling around – shopping, selling and cooking Chinese snacks on sticks (it was really smoky round these hot stalls), as well as those just wandering, like us. I looked at some of the watches on sale – it seemed every other stall was selling watches – all good fakes – Rolex, Gucci, Radar, Guess, etc, but a pink Mickey Mouse one took my eye – and I bought it for 10 ringats – about 1.50 GBP – I was disappointed that the salesman wouldn’t barter! Colin says it will probably only go for a day, but it’s a fashion accessory rather than a watch – I haven’t worn an actual watch for almost ten years.

Back at the hotel, we finished our packing and took our cases to Tim and Simone’s room - arrangements had been made for us to use this room until we left about 21.00 tonight – and then booked out. It was almost time to meet Paul in the Lobby. He was going to drive us around the city in his car, so that we could see the sights and stop as and when we wanted to. He drove us round the busy streets – more problems with pedestrians strolling in the road than actual vehicles.

Our first stop was the King’s Palace – I didn’t realize that Malaysia had a monarchy, but Sultans from nine of the thirteen states that make up Malaysia, take it in turns to hold this post for five years. The four states that do not have a Sultan are Malacca, Sawarak, Sabah and Penang – all ormer British Protectorates. This arrangement started in 1957 when the country became independent (they have posters everywhere advertising the celebrations to be held here next year for the Golden Jubilee) and they are now in the second rotation. The post is purely ceremonial (a bit like our monarchy). Malaysia is still part of the Commonwealth and they support our Queen as monarch of that union. The Malaysian flag has fourteen red and white stripes to represent the states of Malaysia (the fourteenth represents Singapore, which has since left to become an independent colony – but they kept the stripe anyway), a white crescent moon to represent the Islamic community, and a white star representing the monarchy both on a blue square background in the top left hand corner. We could only look through the gates to a very large building hidden behind trees and shrubs, initially built as a house for a wealthy Chinese business man, before being given to the Government, who later looking like those we see on Horseguards Parade. Beside each of them stood a guard in traditional Malaysian costume, holding a long musket.

Back in Paul’s car, (it was a small Toyota people carrier with three rows of seats, so we could all fit in and ideal for touring the city and parking) and drove to the cenotaph that commemorates those Malays who died in both World Wars and in the fight against the Communist insurgency between 1948 to 1960. Behind the cenotaph amid fountains, was a round golden domed area, which had plaques in the ceiling representing all the different sections of the armed forces from all over the world that came to the aid of the British and Malays, when they tried to evict the Communists from the country. Further along the walkway, was a statue representing victorious soldiers raising the flag, standing on their fallen adversaries. It was designed by the same person who designed a similar memorial in Washington DC.

From here we visited the National Orchid Park, which contained orchids in many varieties and colours. It was neatly laid out, with streams and other shrubs complimenting the flowers. Opposite the park was the Bird Park, with huge netted areas containing many species of birds. We did not have time to visit this park, as it is huge, but we did manage to spy some large white storks, sitting in a tree, and two pure white peacocks strutting amongst the shrubs. It is definitely a place to visit should we return to Kuala Lumpur.

We then pulled up outside the British Cricket Club, with its bowling green grass and mock-tudor-style clubhouse. Surrounding this area are many of the old colonial buildings, built when the British ruled this area – the court building must be 300 to 400 metres long, all arches and columns with three domes, donated by the Australian government at the start of the 20th century, the old railway terminal that only ceased being used about five years ago, a white building with turrets and domes, looking like a middle eastern palace, and the old railway offices building – another huge building situated on a major crossroads, three floors high, with verandahs and large windows, suggesting tiffin and cocktails. These buildings look majestic, and have been restored faithfully to their original designs.

Our next stop was at the Telecom tower – being maintained for fifteen years by British Telecom! – shame they can’t get it right at home. The tower is 330 metres tall, putting it somewhere in the middle in terms of the height of all towers in the world. We took the lift to the Observation Platform at 276 metres, (it takes 58 seconds) which goes all round the tower. (There is also a revolving restaurant above, but it was of course, very expensive for this area – main courses costing 115 ringats (nearly 20GBP) without starters, desserts and drinks. We spent half an hour wandering around, peering at all the different sights Kuala Lumpur has to offer. The twin Petronas Towers (featured in the film Entrapment with Sean Connery and Catherine Zeta Jones) were very close by, huge black and silver columns (the windows appear silver) culminating in spires and satellite equipment. We could clearly see the prison, which was built by the British nearly a century ago – it had been intended to build a new one, but the money ran out, so they use this mainly now as a holding centre – it looks just like the old style workhouses. Whilst we were watching the monorail and metro trains, making their ways across the city, large black clouds could be seen approaching over the distant mountains. The difference today was that the clouds had a large “postcard” of sunshine separating the clouds into two sides, where the skyline behind was illuminated in gold. Very strange – I have never seen a sky like that before. We stood and watched for quite a while and could see the clouds moving towards us, and rain falling heavily in the distance – not another wet evening, I hope.

From there we moved on to tour the provincial areas, seeing many embassies and formal buildings before arriving at a large shopping mall. The Aussies were impressed by the size and range of shops, but it was little more than a Bluewater on five floors. We purchased some nibbles for the train journey tonight – and a chocolate bar for Colin, who suddenly realized that he hadn’t had any lunch – and it was now 16.30! We all decided to return to the hotel with Paul around 17.00 (we had the option to stay and shop – but we really haven’t got an inch of space for more souvenirs – and anyway, most of the shops were selling designer clothes and jewellery.

Back at the hotel, we all crammed into the one small room till Tim, Simone and Warren went out for last minute fakes! They seem to have become obsessed with cheap fake products in the market. I spent some time blogging and Colin watched some climbing competitions on the television – that’s a sport we don’t see anything of at home – races to reach the top of a climbing wall – a fairly good spectator sport.

Around 19.00 everyone returned to the room with their goodies. We decided it was time to look for something to eat, but on going downstairs we found it was once more falling down with rain. We ran a few yards up the road, but were getting drenched in seconds, so cut our losses and returned to the hotel for our kagools. Dressed ready for the downpour, we made our way through the market to a nearby street and looked at all the Chinese restaurants (we had decided on Chinese tonight, as it is one of our last evenings in Asia and we probably won’t have too much Chinese before returning home). Last night Tim and Simone had eaten at a restaurant with pink cloths on the tables under the awnings protruding into the road, called “Rolands”. As they didn’t appear to have suffered any after effects we hit on this one – only to find Tim and Simone already there. They joined us at a larger table. We ate basic but very tasty Chinese food – sweet and sour chicken (we would call it Hong Kong style – served in the sauce with tomatoes and pineapple), sizzling beef on a hot plate – when it came, only the meat was on the hot dish in the wooden holder. Another person brought a bowl of “gravy” and poured it over the meat, making it hiss and steam. A lid was quickly placed over the top of the dish until it stopped spitting - and Singapore noodles – which aren’t spicy as at home, just the thin ‘angel hair’ noodles with a few bits in. With drinks our bill came to 66 ringats (about 10 GBP) – really expensive compared to last night.

It was then time to make our way back to the hotel, to collect our luggage and passports from the safety boxes in Reception – we were sure someone was going to forget to collect theirs, but they didn’t. It was still raining really hard, as we made our way to the minibus to take us to the station. Once there, we passed some time filling in arrival and departure cards, necessary for the border checks (we understand that this will happen about 06.00 tomorrow morning - so another early start – and that we will have to unload all our luggage and go through passport control and “nothing to declare” channels before continuing our journey to Singapore. We should arrive around 08.00, Warren and Tim are busily trying finish their spirits, while we are all carrying one packet of ciggys each for Warren.

The train is just the same as the Thailand trains, except this time we all have lower level bunks. I am writing this sitting up in my ‘bed’ while all around me others are snoring – loudly – only the children seem to be awake! I am obviously not going to have a lot of sleep tonight, so might get the MP4 player out to pass the hours.

Happy Birthday Andy

Wednesday 25 October

Luckily last night the loud music finished about 23.45 – not sure if this was due to reaching the end of the celebrations, or if the rain had proved too much, but it meant we had a good night’s sleep from then on.

Our first task on getting up this morning – even before I had a shower - was to email and text Andy to wish him a happy 35th birthday!! I noticed when I sent the email that in actual fact it wasn’t quite the 25th – still a few minutes to go - and Colin got a text back at 02.15 British time, so he must be on night duty and probably received our messages a little bit early. But we have thought about him lots and hope he had a good day.

Breakfast was a mundane affair, and we hurried to ready ourselves for another trek – walking shoes laced tightly, socks, water, cameras. Ready! What is it about the youngsters of today – both Warren and Simone decided not to go on the trek – Warren choosing to stay in bed, and Simone to watch some television and wander down to the town. So it was just Paul, Tim, Colin and me.

The hotel minibus gave us a lift to the start of the jungle path, about five minutes drive away from the hotel. We would start on ‘Walk 3’ and finish on ‘Walk 5’ – a total trek of about 5-6 kms. It had rained hard during the night, and this morning all the trees were still dripping, and the greenery look bright and shiny new. The trees rose high in the air, palms, bamboos and tall, tall leafy trees, forming a canopy over the path. The jungle floor was just layers of mushy dead leaves that have built up over the years to form a peat-like surface. It was very spongy and sprung up and down when you walked along, and squelchy, after all the rain. Tree roots criss-crossed the path, very smooth, wet and slimy and dangerously slippery to walk on. The path started steeply uphill, not quite as severe as the trek in northern Thailand, but the trekking was very similar, in that you had to concentrate on where to put your foot for each step. The terrain was very uneven with deep steps up and down between roots, and stepping stones to cross the streams, as we wound our way up and down the hills through the trees. Thanks to Colin, who helped me up and down the steepest parts, I actually finished the trek with the others, instead of way behind – and not too puffed either. We didn’t see a lot of wildlife – maybe the rain had kept them all in their beds – but we heard a few birds calling to each other, saw a few monkeys in the distance, leaping from branch to branch – sometimes the little ones seemed only to just make it. I found a snail, with a black and yellow striped shell, which completely closed up in a ball when touched. On the side of the shell was a black ammonite design – the detail was amazing. We put it on a rock, to try and tempt it to come out of its shell, but with no success. We saw lots of different funghi – many brightly coloured – sunshine yellows, rusty reds and creamy whites, and even one that was black and white striped. At this time of the year there are not many flowers, but those that were out, were very pretty often with delicate stamens in one colour and petals another, from delicate pinks and blues to rich purples and reds. We got to the end of trek after about two hours, and the hotel driver picked us up in his taxi and took us back to the hotel – collecting the laundry on the way – hurrah it was ready.

We had just twenty minutes to freshen up, finish packing our cases and get down to Reception before we left for the long journey to Kuala Lumpur – about 220 kms. The Cameron Highlands are part of the ‘backbone’ mountain system of mainland Malaysia (like the Apenines in Italy). We drove down the mountains, towards the south, by a different route to yesterday, but taking over two hours to reach the main highway. The road still twisted and turned round hairpin bends alongside adjacent ravines, but rain was falling heavily by this time, making the roads very dangerous – we saw a nasty accident, where a lorry had run into a small silver car on one of the hairpin bends! The waterfalls at the sides of the road were spectacular – tumbling white rapids washing over rocks and gullies on their way down the mountains.

On reaching the main road, it wasn’t long before we stopped for lunch at a service station – even worse than those at home. We ended up with a hot dog, a pot of hot sweetcorn, a honey waffle-cake, some crisps and chocolate, with a bottle of water to drink – not terribly healthy, but filled a gap.

We carried on towards Kuala Lumpur, the kilometers decreasing very slowly – the traffic was quite heavy with all the revelers making their way back home, but our driver (the taxi driver from the hotel, driving a minibus this time) drove very sedately – even more slowly than Colin!!! We both had a nap on the way, as the scenery was the same – lots of plantations of palm oil trees, interspersed with areas of other trees and bushes. Every so often a housing estate would appear – they reminded me of Coronation Street – long rows of houses, built back to back, with very little space between. Very orderly, but characterless. The main highway is a toll road, collecting a ticket when you join and paying according to distance when you leave – today’s journey of about 150 kms cost 12.60 ringats (about 2 GBP).

Around 16.30 we finally turned off the motorway towards the Batu Caves, where an Indian temple has been set up in caves, high up in the limestone cliffs. First we passed through some of the poorest suburbs of Kuala Lumpur – acres of concrete apartment buildings, currently surrounded by masses of roadworks as a huge new road system is being constructed, with dual carriageways, flyovers and underpasses. We arrived at the Batu Caves to see a huge golden Indian diety (male, but with distinctly female facial features and hands) standing guard in front of the stairs rising high in the air (reminiscent of the Big Buddha on Koh Samui). There are 272 steps up to the entrance of the first cave (they kindly painted numbers on each step for us) and inside a huge cavern, down some more steps, is small temple, which today was filled with Indian people, obviously waiting for something to happen. Suddenly two young men to the side started beating a drum and blowing an Indian pipe-like instrument very loudly and urgently. Somebody kept peeping out from the curtain at the back of the stage, surrounded by smoke. Then, as the music reached a crescendo, the curtain was pulled aside and a huge man, with white patterns on his arms, and wearing an orange sleeveless outfit, was ‘flicking’ flower petals at an altar containing a deity made of flowers – red white and yellow blossoms. All the Indian people started putting their hands together over their heads and bending forwards. The man passed several lighted candelabra backwards and forwards in front of the deity. This went on for some time. Standing next to me was a man holding a young boy aged about 1 year, whose head had been shaved and was now covered with tumeric (to stop any infection that might result from the shaving), who was going to be initiated into the faith later in the service (a bit like our Christenings). But we only had about twenty minutes to be back at the minibus, so I didn’t see the culmination of the service. There was another temple at a higher level in the caves, not in use today – just a few visitors wandering around. The whole cavern dripped with water, was dirty, untidy and had lots of litter lying around – not very conducive to worship, but there were hundreds of Indian people there today to do just that.

We were then back in the minibus to travel to our hotel – in the heart of China Town, near the centre of the city. As we approached the hotel (called Swiss Inn - in China Town - in Malaysia?!?) we drove through a large Chinese market covering several streets, with all the usual stalls selling fake goods, like watches, clothes and luggage. There was lots of food stalls, cooking Chinese concoctions for later customers, and out hotel was in the middle of all this! Not what we had hoped for. But on entering the hotel, it was not as bad as outside – almost a haven – a bit outdated and tired looking, but clean and welcoming. We had been allocated a room on the seventh floor, while the others were all on the third! – lucky there is a lift – even though from Reception, you have to go to the second floor, walk along the corridors, through a set of doors to the other side of the hotel and take another lift up. This lift goes straight to the Coffee Shop at ground level, which cannot be reached directly from Reception – very odd.

Our room is small, and old fashioned, but the bed seems comfortable. Looks like we will be swimming in the bathroom again after having a shower, as the curtain, does not reach the small wall demarcating the base of the shower - so water is bound to escape.

After our luggage was delivered to our room – my case is getting heavier and heavier and each porter grunts more loudly than the previous one as they lift it from the trolley into the room – we had a short meeting with Paul about arrangements for tomorrow. It was then time – about 18.30 - to decide where to have dinner and what sort of food to eat – Chinese, Indian, Italian or American (Planet Hollywood or Hard Rock Café). Paul suggested that he take us (the others had gone off to buy fake watches and were intent on drinking the rest of their supplies before Singapore) to another local Indian restaurant that he often uses when at home here in Kuala Lumpur, which would necessitate a train ride. We readily agreed, but as soon as we stepped outside the hotel (under the covers of the market) the rain began to fall heavily – just as in Penang and Tanah Rata. We collected our kagools, and set off with Paul to ride the monorail. It was fairly crowded on the train – there were only two carriages shorter but wider than those on our underground - particularly when we reached one of the main shopping areas and lots of people got on, going home. We had bought tickets for a couple of stops to the end of the line, but first took a train in the opposite direction, so that we could see the city at night. The Petronas Twin Towers were very impressive, all lit up, particularly brightly at the pinnacles, which looked like two spaceships on top of tall columns – unfortunately due to the national holiday – again – we shall not be able to go up these tomorrow (the buildings are mainly financial offices and will be closed all week (it seems that everything stops for that national holiday). Many of the streets were brightly lit with fairy lights in the trees or lights looking like palm trees along the pavements. The shops stay open till about 21.30 here each day, so there were lots of people still trying to buy. We hopped off about four stations up the line and then rode back again, passing where we had got on, to the end of the line. Following Paul, we walked as quickly as possible down some side streets trying to keep under cover out of the rain (he hadn’t got a coat or umbrella so was in danger of getting soaked – and at one time we walked straight through a restaurant, around people eating their meal, thus cutting of the corner of the road, which was out in the rain).

We came to a local style “café” where a man at the front was making chapatis – mixing the dough and kneading it into small balls, which he then rolled out into thin circles, before tossing them into the air a couple of time and slapping them on to the hot griddle plates over a fierce flame. On the side of the restaurant was a buffet with dishes of curried mixed vegetables, mustard seed leaves, spicy cauliflower, french beans with chilli, and some mutton curry. We helped ourselves, to these, using the metal divided plates again (similar to the plastic ones the boys used to eat off at school) and sat down. By the time we had ordered some pure lime juice to drink, a lady was bringing round the chapatis, hot off the griddle – about eight inches round, soft and moist , not at all greasy, that literally melted in the mouth – our chapattis at home are dry and hard compared to these. We devoured a couple of these each, and I had two helpings of veggies, as they were scrummy too! – very piggy. Paul treated us to this meal – he said he was glad of the company!?! – which actually cost less than the one in Penang – about 10 - 12 ringats in total – less than 2 GBP – and we had eaten a delicious meal.

Paul took us on the metro back to the hotel. We caught the train (which has no driver like the Docklands Light Railway) from Kuala Lumpur Central – the same station as we will be using tomorrow night to catch the train to Singapore – and it was only one stop along the line to the station nearest the hotel. We wandered back through the market which still seemed to be doing good business despite the rain, and came across the hotel more quickly than we had expected. As it was still raining hard, we decided to have tea in our room and blog (there w`as absolutely nothing on the television except a football match we had already seen several times).

Kuala Lumpur has a completely different feel to Bangkok – not the free and easy going atmosphere. People are more determined here – to get where they want to go (usually by pushing and shoving), to sell you something (bartering is the name of the game, but the traders won’t budge too far for tourists) and everyone appears to be very busy – not like the Thais who spend at least half the day, sitting watching the world go by, or chatting to friends and neighbours. We are going on a tour of the city tomorrow afternoon, so may find out a bit more about what makes Kuala Lumpur tick.

The End Of Ramadan Has A Lot To Answer For

Tuesday 24 October

Breakfast was a nightmare meal today, as a huge party of Indonesians were in the hotel and just took over the room and the food. They were here to celebrate the end of Ramadam, and pushed and barged and shouted noisily to each other, while demolishing large quantities of both western and eastern food. Though to be hones, part of the problem is the poor lay out of the room by the hotel.

Escaping, we collected our luggage and waited in the foyer for the others to arrive. We were going to Cameron Heights today, a journey of a few hundred kilometers to the mountains of interior Malaysia. But firstly we would visit the local botanic gardens, that had been constructed where the land had been quarried for stone, a century or so ago. The ‘park’ was very peaceful and serene in the early morning sun, but already heaps of people were arriving – it’s that national holiday again. There were many interesting species of trees and flowers, and even a few monkeys came out to greet us on the lawns, scavenging amongst any litter for tasty morsels. These monkeys were the same variety (macaque) as we had seen at Koh Sok and on the island off Railay Beach. But later on we saw a different monkey in the trees, slightly larger, black with white rings around its eyes and mouth and some white on the top of its head – not sure what it is called. It was a very pleasant wander at start the day, but all too soon we were back in the minibus, speeding our way south along the main toll road that runs from Bangkok to Singapore – over 600 miles.

The scenery was similar to previous days – acres upon acres of palm oil trees, interspersed with a few other species. After about an hour we stopped at a Muslin fruit market, purpose-built small bungalow shops, selling nothing but fruit. Many were closed today – because of the national holiday! – but those open were doing a roaring trade. Paul bought a variety of fruit, which we tried - all except Warren who doesn’t touch anything healthy – including rose apples, jack fruit, tamarind (which we have tried before) and guava (best coated with a cinnamony sugar sprinkled over the chunks), and galia-type melon. Chick peas were bubbling in a cauldron in the front of one of the stores, and we tried some fresh from the pot – they were very soft and fresh and tasted delicious.

Onward once again in the minibus. Sometime later we made a right hand turn signposted towards the Heights. At the junction here, were huge quarries in the limestone, excavating the marble from the rocks. There were huge chunks of white rock visible from the road, similar to those we saw in Italy. The road twisted and turned round successive hairpin bends the whole way along its route, as it climbed up and up, getting ever nearer to the highest point at 5000 feet. The scenery changed to terraced mountains - with many measures to prevent rock falls and drain the water from the slopes - and deep ravines, falling abruptly away on the left-hand side of the road. The vegetation also changed with many tree ferns, shrubs, bushes, and deciduous trees, similar to those seen at home like silver birches and fruit trees. And the weather changed, becoming cooler with lower humidity. The traffic started to increase and soon we were in a long line of vehicles, all making for the higher ground. Progress became slow, even extremely slow, even stopping at some points as we tried to pass through towns and villages. The whole of Malaysia seemed to have come here today – it’s that national holiday – and when they decide to stop and park, they just stop, hardly drawing off the road, before leaving their vehicles. Consequently, it was very difficult for one car to get along the road, let alone two pass each other. We continued on, looking for a place to stop for lunch, but everywhere was teeming with people – whole families of grannies and granddads, mums and dads, children, uncles, aunties, nephews and nieces – piling out of large (or sometimes not so large) vehicles.

Large areas in the valleys and up the sides have been devoted to “glasshouses” – except that here the covering is made of polythene sheeting. Many grow hydrophonic fruits – which means that they are grown in water troughs on benches instead of soil – acres devoted to strawberries, but a few to other fruits and vegetables too, particularly watercress. Each “farm” has its own stopping place, and shop, so more indiscriminate parking, slowing us down. All the cafes were full to bursting, so we kept crawling along in the traffic – the policemen in this area are Moslem, so they would also be on holiday today – later in the afternoon, we did spy two, trying to direct the through traffic, but having no effect on the parking. Paul kept saying “another ten minutes to lunch”, “just another five kilometers to lunch”, but each time there was no place to stop at the rendezvous.

We were supposed to visit a tea plantation today, to see how tea is processed from picking to pot – but it was closed – yes, it’s the fault of that dreaded national holiday again! – so were are going to visit a different plantation whilst on our travels tomorrow, but Paul has now decided that it probably isn’t worth the detour. Which is a shame as we were looking forward to the tastings.

Eventually about 14.00 we turned off the road, to a complex containing an Indian ‘transport caff’, and we all piled out for lunch at last. The place was not clean and the loos even worse, but the food tasted good, and we were all feeling in need of some sustenance. I tried the spicy chicken curry – a dry concoction about madras heat, where the meat was on the bone (I think they had just chopped the whole chicken and put it in the spices and cooked it) – one piece of deep fried spicy chicken – that looked a lot like KFC, but tasted extremely spicy – and some mutton curry - a good run-of-the-mill curry, with lots of gravy - and of course, steamed rice. The meal cost 13 ringats for the two of us (about 2 GBP) and Colin had roughly the same as me.

The Butterfly Farm that was on our schedule to visit today was now just down the hill, so we wandered down the road to the entrance. The farm was built on the hillside, and contained more reptiles and insects than butterflies, although there were a few spectacular large black ones with coloured flashings on their wings, and often with red heads. But we also saw huge rhinoceros beetles with three horns, tarantulas, various snakes from long thin whip snakes to large cobras, leaf frogs (which looked like a large brown light brown fallen leaf, that would be extremely difficult to pick out in the wild, huge stick insects hanging from branches, and equally difficult to see, millipedes (Paul put one on Colin’s hand and he said it felt sticky as its million little feet adhered to his skin!) and a pool of black shiny scorpions – mostly asleep together in one corner. I couldn’t touch any of the species – just being that close was bad enough.

From here we continued on down the hill to the local market. We looked at and tried more fruit – love fruit – that look like pale red English plums on the outside, but when cut open are full of dark seeds surrounded by orange flesh, looking a lot like passion fruit. When we sucked the fruit out of the skin they tasted a lot like kiwi fruit. We also tried some tangerines, large orange globes that were so, so sweet (I am not an orange person, but these were very delicious). We also tried the local strawberries, but they were like the forced ones from home, slightly hard and tasteless – very disappointing, seeing how many people were buying them.

It was then time to make our way to the hotel, a further half an hour’s journey still going further up into the mountains. Due to all the traffic hold ups, we would not arrive in time to trek this afternoon, but Paul has promised (!) to take us tomorrow – so I won’t escape more walking up and down hills. The hotel is situated at the end of Tanah Rata, quite a large town with a long high street of small shops and restaurants, all very Asian. Before we booked in, we all dropped our washing off at a local laundry – they are not sure it will be washed by tomorrow, but we remain hopeful. The first calamity at the hotel was that our keys did not work, but the porter delivering our luggage went off and managed to get a new set that did work. Secondly, just as Colin was about to set foot in the shower, he realized there were no towels. We rang down to housekeeping – no reply – and then to reception, who informed us they were still awaiting their return from the laundry. There is a shortage of water in this region at preset, even though the recent wet weather has prevented the laundry from getting things dry! The third calamity is the booming beat music and wailing, appearing to come from a few hundred yards away from our window – there seems to be a funfair of sorts – presumably celebrating the end of Ramadan. The final straw was that when Colin opened his case, his MP4 player screen had been crushed - presumably when the porters threw the cases up the stairs and on the trolleys. It still works fine, but we will have a look for a new one in Singapore for him.

We made some tea, turned up the television that had just two channels in English – one with the footy we watched yesterday and the other with an inane film about an elephant - and I blogged until it was time to meet Paul for a tour of the town.

Unfortunately, about an hour meeting time, the rains had started - another typical south east Asian downpour. We went down to Reception at the appointed hour, and Pau, armed with three umbrellas,l assured us the tour was still happening. He had arranged for a minibus to take us down the hill, and by the time we reached the bottom, the rain had ceased. We spent an hour wandering up and down the high street, in and out of shops selling souvenirs made locally, looking around the grocers to see what we recognized and what we didn’t and spying on menus to see the variety of food offered. This region is composed mainly of peoples of Indian and Chinese origin, and the food on offer represented these cultures. Paul had chosen a Chinese restaurant for us to try. One of the specialities of this area is a “steamboat”, very similar to the “hot pots” we had in Chongqing, in China, whereby you get a large bowl divided into two sections, one filled with chicken broth and the other with a spicy broth like Tom Yum. Plates of raw chicken, beef, fish and vegetables – and even eggs here - are cooked in the broths like a fondue. I remember when we had this dish before, that it became very messy and laborious cooking all the different items, so I, together with everyone else, chose straight Chinese food. Colin had an interesting Schezuan cabbage soup with pork, and I had some minute spare ribs in a sweet sauce to start, called King of Pork ribs! We then shared some chicken and cashews (nuts night out), sweet and sour prawns out of their shells (except for the heads and tails) and spicy chicken on the bone (which I expected to be like KFC, but turned out to be small pieces of meat with bones, similar to lunch time, and not spicy at all), with steamed rice. We had jasmine tea to finish and the whole meal cost 58 ringats (9 GBP).

The rain had started again by now, so we walked back to the hotel as quickly as possible, to find we still had no towels. We rang housekeeping and some time later they delivered two bath towels. At least we can now have a shower. The music is still booming, and is now accompanied by firework explosions every quarter of an hour or so – I think it will be a noisy night. Apparently the hotel is full, and there are lots of other hotels in the town too, so I think there has been an invasion here today. All the restaurants were full, and families were parading up and down the street, many with very small children, screaming and crying. Paul assures us that it is usually very peaceful and quiet during the week in Tanah Rata.

Tomorrow is another long day – still the threat of trekking first thing in the morning and then we ride to Kuala Lumpur – about 250 kilometres - the capital of Malaysia. I think it’s a shame we have visited here during the religious festival, as we have not been able to experience the real highland region – it’s been a bit like a visit to Brighton beach on a Bank Holiday Monday at home. We have been told that we cannot take any alcoholic drinks into Singapore, so the other two boys, Tim and Warren, are busy downing their Thai rum and Jim Beam, and also the authorities only allow two packets of cigarettes to be taken over the border – one opened and one unopened. Lucky no one has bought their duty frees yet – but Warren is also puffing as fast as he can, to finish up the packets of ciggys he has left in his luggage.