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.