Krabi to Koh Samui
The short boat trip from Langkawi to Thailand would turn out to be the roughest of all boat trips so far. A Dutch couple was already sitting pole position next to the door for a while when we barely go our feet wet from jumping on to the stairs and the boat. There was not one inch left for our bags and the pushchair, so we just put everything on top of the huge pile of luggage that was already there. This of course to the frustration of Dutch Dick (at least that’s the name we gave him), who could barely see his own bright new Samsonite suitcase anymore. His plan of sitting pole position to be the first one able to get off the boat went down the drain. He would have to wait on the quay to be the last one to receive his luggage. The look on his wife’s face was worth a million and we could already tell what the atmosphere would be like during their dinner. Bit by bit the boat struggled to reach Satun harbour.
After going through customs, we took a ride in a jeep that would never pass any MOT in Europe, to eventually take the express bus to Krabi. We spent our trip to Krabi talking to Angelique and Ronald, both Dutch, who’d also quit their jobs to travel. They travelled for several months through Asia, from North to South. Their dream was to set up their own business in importing terra cotta pottery for home and garden back in the Netherlands. Hopefully their dream comes true. After the usual negotiations with the taxi-mob in Krabi which led to nowhere, we decided to hop on a songthaew, which cost a fraction of a trip in a taxi, to the centre of town leaving us right in front of our guesthouse. In Malaysia songthaews didn’t exist, so this was all new for us. Of course we learned quickly. A songthaew is a pick-up truck with two benches at the back, space enough for 8-10 to sit in. Definitely the best way of getting around short distance in Thailand. Since we initially hadn’t planned to go to Thailand, we had no info whatsoever on the country. Fortunately, we managed to get our hands on a 2004 Rough Guide edition back in Langkawi. The only worrying thing about the guide was that it was written before the Tsunami hit the Thai coast. We found that most of the accommodations on the West coast no longer existed. On top of that, the Andaman Sea was very rough as well and the weather was becoming more and more unpredictable. We decided to leave the West coast and booked a flight to Koh Samui on the East coast, in the Gulf of Thailand. We spent one night in Krabi, at the Chan Cha Lay guesthouse, which only had vacant rooms with shared facilities. It was very clean and nicely decorated and for the price of 200 Baht (€ 4!) more than ok. While enjoying our first cold Singha beer we met two lovely English girls, Vanessa and Sarah. Sarah had already been travelling for 2 years, never knowing what her next destination would be. Her motto “It’s not about the destination but all about the journey” said it all. Such a nice aspect of travelling: you sniff at each other like dogs in a park, tell each other stories about your lives and travels, sometimes even very personal ones, where after you say goodbye knowing that you will probably never see that person again. After the long bus trip we went to bed early, but first had some great Thai food at the night market for about € 6 for the three of us. Thailand was even cheaper than Malaysia.
The flight to Koh Samui with Bangkok Airways was in a 70-seater propeller airplane. Although we had never heard of it, the airway existed more than 40 years and the flight was very comfortable. They even managed to serve lunch to all passengers during our 50 minutes flight. Sara finished hers in no time. The airport of Koh Samui was the cutest ever; tiny tropical gardens amongst small cottages covered with palm leaves, a big sea aquarium in the toilets and plants and flowers all over the place, even at the baggage claim. Sara caused congestion amongst the ground personnel and this time she felt ok with all the touching and squeezing of the Thai hostesses. We didn’t make any reservations for accommodation beforehand, so we took a minibus to Lamai beach, which according to other travellers we met had pretty beaches and was still quite peaceful compared to Chaweng, a bit more up north. The Starbay Resort sounded familiar to us, having read about it in Vanessa’s more recent Lonely Planet back in Krabi. The resort consisted of a few beautiful privately owned Thai-style bungalows all amongst a well maintained tropical garden with pool. When the owners of the bungalows weren’t there, the bungalows were rented out to tourists. All of this managed by an older, slightly bitter Austrian man named Peter, who escaped his country after being treated badly by his own government for his disease. The same government he himself worked for many years and it was funny to see how he created his own familiar Austrian working environment in Thailand. When I wanted to pay him and walked into his office with cash in my hands, he urgently but empathetically directed me to step away and to go round the corner to the counter of his office. “Ohne Schalter ging nichts in seinem Leben” I thought was a good way to describe the man’s life and completely ignoring my slightly annoyed face, he recounted the change up to three times. Fortunately, there were other bungalow owners around who were very nice, like Henk from The Hague, the general manager of the resort, who travelled back and forward between his house in Monaco and Koh Samui. There was also Herbert, a German with a tremendous belly who only had two months per year to make sure he could show the people back home he owned a house somewhere in the tropics so he spent his days in the sun from dusk till dawn flipping himself over like a golden brown French toast. Sara’s favourites were by far Carole and Philippe, a very sympathetic Swiss-French couple. Especially Carole was like a magnet to Sara. She was working in a kindergarten in Geneva and adored Sara, so Sara’s first words of French were a fact. The best thing about our bungalow at Starbay was that the studio was like a normal house, a home far away from home. Sara discovered the cleaning material and like a ritual, she cleaned the house and terrace every morning. We still don’t know who she got this from, surely not one of us.
Every few hundred metres you’d find small platforms on the beach where you could get a massage. Our bodies were in need of care after the flight and bus trip and we were both pampered for at least one hour. While the curing hands did their work, I’ll fell asleep with the sound of the shore and sea in the background. Sara wanted to try a massage as well and she enjoyed every second of it. This to the amusement of the Thai masseuse, who laughed out loud at the faces Sara was pulling. Every evening, on our way to one of the restaurants on the beach, we’d pass a swing that was attached high into a huge palm tree so its range would reach into the sea. Sara couldn’t get enough of it and wanted to go faster and faster, higher and higher. Especially at night, during high tide, she would swing above the sea but she didn’t care and each swing was so much fun. A bit of a difference with the swing at grandpa Gerrit’s in Meerssen.
The only disadvantage of the Starbay resort was the beach, or better said, the lack of it. Not ideal for Sara, so she’d spend the most of her time at the pool. The northern end of Lamai was indeed quieter than the centre. The first day when we arrived at Lamai, we’d already passed through Chaweng and were appalled by the noise, tourism and ugliness of the town, known for its beaches. The center of Lamai was not much different. Loads of bars and restaurants but also hooker bars and older men with hardly mature Thai girls. The “go fuck bucket” which was available everywhere, symbolised it perfectly; a beach bucket filled with whiskey, coke and condoms. This part of Koh Samui really disappointed us so we decided to move on after a few days.
We booked a few nights at Choeng Mon beach, north east of the island, a small bay with just a few expensive resorts. In between them was our affordable hotel with swimming pool. In front of the hotel was a nice beach with a shallow sea so perfect for Sara. She amused herself like always with her beach toys and made lots of new friends. The flirting game with George stood out though. George was the 4 year old son of George Senior, a 73 year old (!) Scotsman, married to a Thai woman forty years younger, and now living on Koh Samui. George Sr. happened to be a coins and banknotes collector and had been to Valkenburg aan de Geul at the “world famous” coins and banknotes fair many times in his life, practically in our backyard. Brigitte and I felt quite stupid that we never heard about it in our lives. George used the f-word in every sentence at least twice, even when talking to his own son, but still fun to talk to. In the evening the beach turned into a romantic lounge spot surrounded by candles and couches to chill out and enjoy the sunset. The food at Choeng Mon Beach restaurant was fantastic. Fresh red snapper grilled with chilli, garlic and lime, grilled tuna in red curry sauce and coconut-lime soup with chicken. Even Sara’s macaroni was made with fresh tomatoes and herbs and she finished it in no time. By the way, Sara’s menu mainly consists of pizza, pasta, fried rice with chicken or fish for dinner and jaffles and fresh fruit for lunch. On our request they prepare the rice without spices. What we thought would be a problem before we left, has actually worked out really well. She eats and drinks well and hasn’t been sick once.
Despite the intimate atmosphere on Choeng Mon Beach we still had this unsatisfying feeling about Thailand. We had only seen some touristy places on the east coast of this island that as far as we were concerned equalled the Spanish Costa del Sol. The first evening in Choeng Mon we met a nice English couple that was staying on another island close to Koh Samui and were only visiting Koh Samui for 2 nights. Their stories made us curious and the next day we arranged everything to spend 2 nights in a place that hopefully would match our idea of a tropical secluded island on the Thai coast: Koh Phangan.
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Langkawi
The ferry ride from Penang to Langkawi lasted almost 3 hours on a rough Andaman Sea, hence the sighs of relief when the boat finally docked in Kuah harbour. Pulau Langkawi is an archipelago of islands in the North West of Malaysia with Langkawi being the largest and most important one. Beautiful scenery but with increasing tourism it is more difficult to preserve the natural beauty. July is Arab season when Arabs all take off on holiday with large numbers heading off to Langkawi. Despite the frequently arriving planes to the international airport we found Langkawi not as busy as we had anticipated. We chose Pantai Cenang as destination, mainly because of choice of accommodation and large beach with shallow sea. Pantai Cenang itself is nothing special and can be found on any coastline around the world: a long strip of resorts, restaurants and souvenir shops to lure tourists and their wads of Malay Ringit. Fortunately, the coconut tree rule applies here so all buildings are not higher than two storeys.
We ended up in the Malibest Resort where we booked a wooden bungalow with A/C for € 24 per night. The Andaman Sea was a mere 25 meters from our porch and the warm water begged for a first swim. Sara started building sand castles and was happy again after several days spent in traffic busy cities. The water was not as clear as on the East coast, partly due to the starting monsoon season. During the first days it rained only at night while during daytime the sun came out regularly. For the first time we also noticed more mozzies than before so finally we could make use of the mosquito net which actually made the otherwise rundown room a bit romantic. Sara’s travel cot we drag along is completely closed and perfect against these ferocious little monsters. Well worth the effort of carrying the extra 2.5 kilos.
Our favourite hangout became the Red Tomato Garden Cafe, close to our house. Run by Tanja from Germany who while on her own world trip 10 years ago ran into a Malaysian guy and stayed ever since. Red Tomato is a cosy little place with relaxed music, free wireless internet and a spaghetti aglio olio to die for. Sara made friends with Leha, the friendly Malay waitress and got an extra treat every now and then. The tsunami apparently hadn’t had a great deal of impact on Langkawi as Sumatra had served as a buffer. The only person killed was a tourist who got stuck in the sand with her wheelchair and was forgotten in the mayhem. What you did see was traces of a steadily increasing tide, washing the sand in front of the palm trees away and making them hang almost horizontally over the beach.
The weather as this time of year was quite unpredictable, so when the sun did come out we were on the beach, Sara’s favourite spot. She could spend hours playing in the sand and sea. Was it at times difficult to make her sleep back home in Maastricht, here she would suddenly get up and walk back to our house mumbling that she was tired and wanted to go to bed.
The last 2 days we rented a car to explore a bit the island. Remembering a holiday driving through England and panicking with the clutch at unexpected situations, I made sure we got an automatic this time. Renting a car in our part of the world normally involves several papers with terms and conditions and a long list of risks you can cover if paying extra. Here I signed a small A5 paper which basically said I was responsible for any damage or theft and had to carry all costs. This probably explained the low rent of € 12 a day. We took our chances anyhow and drove to the cable car on the North West coast. Unfortunately, Brigitte’s vertigo was stronger than the prospect of a fantastic view of Langkawi and the Thai coastline so we went to the next door Geo Park instead. Parts of Langkawi and its surrounding waters are marked as Unesco nature site. The Geo Park tries to make some money out of this by building a small eco look-a-like site with wooden houses and pond but is actually nothing more than a set of souvenir shops and food courts. Nevertheless, Sara spotted an elephant after a brief walk and desperately wanted to ride it. Elephants are original inhabitants of Maylasia we told ourselves to justify this circus act and bought a half hour ride through the jungle. Lasha the Asian elephant went on his way with a great deal of routine but Sara loved it to be so high in the trees and became even euphoric when she spotted a few monkeys. We also visited a small animal farm with loads of aggressive rabbits who displayed a true Pavlov reaction the moment Sara stepped over the small fence by jumping up against her. A visitor meant food and quickly we bought some carrots before they would start to nibble on Sara. There were also some snakes and a beautiful but caged Brahminy kite, the bird Langkawi was named after, but altogether the park was a rather depressing experience.
Before driving back to our house we decided have a look at one of the top end resorts on the island, the Datai. Hidden in a small bay the resort is named after, the hotel is beautifully constructed with wood and stone into the landscape. Lots of perfectly dressed staff, a beautiful pool and an almost serene peacefulness. No place to bring your kids but great to spend some quality time as newly weds or if you have to fix something relationship wise if your budget allows for this kind of luxury (www.lhw.com/datai). Driving home we saw quite a few monkey families next to the road who were not shy of cars at all. Although they look very friendly, they are still wild animals so we didn’t get out of the car but took a few pictures from the open car window. On of the older monkeys was suffering from the same thing I do when pictures are taken, always have the eyes closed (this also explains why I am not on many pictures). Every time we wanted to put him on film he closed his eyes as if on purpose.
The next day we drove to the North coast to Tanjung Rhu. Having your own car is much more fun than a taxi. Traffic is low and you only have to watch out for the occasional dare devil who wants to overtake at an almost impossible part of the road. The only thing we didn’t get was a child seat for Sara, so was strapped in the back with a belt with Brigitte next to her. Not so strange if you saw who locals transported their offspring in cars or motor bikes. Tanjung Rhu was the hub for tours into the mangroves and bat caves but we opted for a take away lunch on the beach enjoying the stunning scenery. Emerald water and small islands with the coast of Thailand on the horizon.
The rain now started to come during the days as well, time to move on again. The East coast was our initial goal but apart from the nine hour bus ride it would be difficult to get to Singapore again from Kota Bahru. The prospect of several long bus rides throughout Malaysia was not appealing but surfing the Internet we found another solution to our logistics problem. More on this in our next post on the blog.
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KL and Penang
From Melaka we took the bus the capital Kuala Lumpur. Lesson learned from Melaka was that a city stay without having the possibility to swim in sea or pool was not okay for Sara. Therefore we had pre-booked via Internet a hotel with pool which was not too expensive. We had quite a large room with a porch that led to the swimming pool which was perfect for Sara. A swimming pool also meant new friends for her.
As with every big city traffic is a real problem and there seems to be a permanent congestion. It took ages for our express bus to reach the bus terminal Putraya with the usual chaos and taxi mafia. After turning down 2 drivers because of the high price, the third one even claimed he did not know where our hotel was. Finally got into a regular car for the price we were willing to pay. The driver ran an illegal taxi service next to his normal job but the difference compared to illegal taxi’s in Holland is that he got customers from the regular taxi drivers. If they couldn’t get the fare they wanted they simply refused to go out and made up excuses like not knowing where the hotel was located. Our driver Sow turned out to be a militant fighter for the Justice party and the next 10 minutes he fired a rather aggressive speech against the current government at us. Luckily, I had been reading up on things in Malaysia in the papers as he switched from murder to fuel prices to a conspiracy against his party. Upon arrival at the hotel he gave us his card with phone number which I got rid of instantly. No rides with this crazy guy.
KL looks a lot like Singapore. Almost the same amount of people (a bit over 4 million, but Singapore has almost 4 times as much people per square kilometre), construction sites everywhere en long traffic jams causing dirty smog. Although Singapore is leading the competition things slowly seem to shift to KL. Our own impression is that Singapore is much better organised and structured and that the people are friendlier. KL is chaos at times but this has a certain charm as well. For tourists like us who like do explore things walking around KL is not really suitable, especially not with a stroller. Pavements have been taken away for road expansion and what is left is of poor quality. We had to manoeuvre creatively to find our way without getting on the road full of speeding cars.
The Petronas Towers were only 2 minutes by foot from our hotel and from every angle it is a true architectural piece of art. Sara was not allowed to go up the elevators so no breathtaking view from the top unfortunately. Beneath the towers was the latest opened shopping mall, Suria. Take the following ingredients: Brigitte, 4 huge storeys with all the famous brands in nice boutiques, mega sale en a travel budget. Mixed together you get a cocktail of excitement and frustration. In the end, the damage was limited to a bikini from Zara. Although I have been running around in the same swimming shorts for the past 5 years, having only 1 bikini for a woman basically means going nude as you cannot switch between outfits. In Suria was also a big food court on the 2nd floor where you could get meals from all areas of the globe. Not exactly cosy but ideal for Sara. We got her the first happy meal of the trip and spaghetti. Brigitte became a Sushi King regular and I had a taste of Bengal, Thai and Mongolian food. It was funny to see that the longest queue was always in front of McDonalds. Despite the unhealthy stuff it still appeals to children everywhere, although they did have a large Halal certificate hanging above the menu.
Next to the Petronas Towers was a park with swimming pool and large play garden, both for free. When Sara saw the play garden she went completely crazy, so many slides and swings. The pool next to is shallow and has water falls and small fountains. Around it were the ‘fashion police’, female park rangers whose job was to watch out for children going into the water naked or with a diaper. Pants were the minimum piece of clothing. Sara loved to wander through the pool, and lots of children came up to her and touched her. She had a ball and the pool became a daily stop on our walks through the city.
In the end we didn’t see that much of KL. We have been to Chinatown with the famous Jin Petaling Street full of aggressive salesmen. Whatever you do, don’t look at an item longer than 1 second unless you really want to buy it, otherwise you will be chased down the street almost being forced to buy it. We also went to Bukit Bintang, a touristy part full of restaurants and shops. Mark and Laura stayed here in a hotel and where we went for dinner with them on Jalan Alor, a long street with loads of hawker stalls, predominantly Chinese. Sara and Madeleine couldn’t take their eyes off the living clams while we had a feast with crab, squid, fish soup and loads of sateh, washed down with Tiger beer. Way above our budget but still very cheap according to Western standards (€50 in total). Although the hygiene in these hawker stalls is very good most of the time, the toilets seem to be a forgotten area. When Brigitte opened the door a huge rat came crawling up the hole in the floor…
Mark and Laura would stay until Sunday and would then move on to the East coast before heading into Thailand. We chose for Penang on the West coast instead, where we would take the ferry to Langkawi afterwards. In front of our hotel an express bus conveniently drove straight to Georgetown. As we were practically the only passengers, they put Chicken Little on twice for Sara so the 3 hour ride went by for her quickly.
In Penang we had booked another hotel with swimming pool, this time a bit out of Georgetown’s city centre. Hotel Naza was a nice hotel at the beach of Tanjung Tokong with a small swimming pool and kid’s pool. The sea was rather dirty here and did not invite for a swim though. We took the bus to downtown Georgetown, a ride of half an hour due to traffic but only € 0.30 fare. Georgetown is Malaysia’s second largest city but you could not tell by the buildings you would pass. Instead of KL’s large sky scrapers lots of colonial mansions from the British era. The centre is dominated by Chinese restaurants and shops. The part we liked most was Little India with completely different colours, sounds and smell. Well worth a stroll. Next to the uninteresting Fort Cornwallis with a sun tanned Malay guard pathetically dressed as English soldier was a small food court and play garden. Perfect place to let Sara have a run without the danger of rushing traffic and to digest an excellent Nasi Lemak. Food leftovers were aggressively taken by large birds and you had to be careful not to be hit by flying sateh sticks with still sauce on it. At the end of the day we went back to the hotel for a swim before dinner and had great Malay food and sushi in a food court next to the hotel. I probably fell for Montezuma’s Revenge resulting in stomach ache and dhiarea which kept me from falling asleep. Sleeping would have been a problem anyway that night as a huge thunderstorm crossed Penang. Sara tried to be a big girl and said with trembling voice that she was not afraid. Thankfully she crawled in between us and fell into a deep sleep.
We would liked to have stayed for a few nights in the Cheong Fatt Tze Mansion (www.cheongfatttzemansion.com), a beautiful B&B in the city centre but this was unfortunately booked solid for weeks. In contrast to what the tourist office promoted Penang and Georgetown in particular did not really appeal to us. Perhaps it was also because we were getting tired from traffic and car exhausts and were craving for fresh air. We decided to take the ferry to Pulau Langkawi earlier, a group of tropical islands close to the Thai border.
Here Sara could run around again and build sand castles on the beach. To end, a small update on Sara’s wellbeing. We got rid of the pacifiers because she broke them all and we told her they were not for sale here. She accepted it and is no longer asking for it. We also are trying to get rid of diapers during the day and this seems to work really well, although it is sometimes a hassle to find a toilet in a city or park. Would be great of she can do without diapers as it would save us from dragging them around for the rest of the trip.
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From East to West
It was hard to say goodbye to Tioman and Air Batang. We could have easily stayed longer but curiosity to see more of Malaysia was stronger so we boarded the ferry back to Mersing on a Wednesday morning. Back in the terminal we went looking for bus tickets to Melaka on the West coast which led to huge disappointment. According to the huge woman behind the tiny counter the 13h00 bus to Melaka was full, only tickets for the last one at 17h30 were available. This meant waiting for 5 hours and arriving only at 22h00 in Melaka. What to do? A taxi would be too expensive. Only alternatives were taking a bus to Kluang, somewhere in the interior and hoping for a bus to Melaka or change plans and stay on the East coast travelling north to Kuantan. I made one last round through the building until I spotted an Indian man in a FC Barcelona T-shirt. Big Barça football fan I am myself I thought this must be ok and we started to talk about last season’s bad results and what should change. We both concluded the current exodus of the big stars is the only way forward and he asked where I was heading for. He walked me to a tiny hole in the outside wall which turned out to be the national bus company counter where tickets for the 13h00 bus where available. As the bus took off shortly after we counted only 16 occupied seats! Lesson learned, never take the first answer for granted but shop for second opinions.
Sara was excited about the bus ride, especially since she was on the front row and had great views on the landscape. After an hour driving through mainly palm tree plantations she dozed off into a deep sleep. I counted 3 monkeys as road kill and saw 2 warning signs for crossing elephants. As with every public transport hub you were harassed by the taxi mafia the moment you stepped out of the bus. Amazing how they all agree among each other on asking the same high fare for the relatively short ride to the city centre. When we walked away pretending to be angry about the price a discount was all of sudden possible. As all the mentioned guesthouses and hotels in our Rough Guide were booked we pre-booked an unknown hotel that was described on Internet as a cosy hotel for families near the city centre run by a hospitable Portuguese family. When we arrived we looked at each other with horror. A run-down neighbourhood with burned down warehouses on one side and a large building with flickering red lights in the middle: Hotel Portugis. Although the occupancy was very low we still had to wait for our room to be cleaned by a small Malaysian transvestite with pony tail and a stuffed bra. The room was small but ok although it only had a very small window. We decided to walk to city centre to find a room for the days to come but after strolling the pavements for more than half an hour we found ourselves only halfway to the centre. With the hotel experience still in mind, this was too much Brigitte and she started to cry. As we arrived back at the hotel there was load music from speakers outside the restaurant next to the hotel and a barely dressed woman on high heels stood outside looking at us with a-what-on-earth are-you-doing-here-face. Hotel Portugis was definitely not a family hotel but cosy alright if you liked karaoke and hookers as it was a Chinese run hotel annex brothel. We checked out and of course did not get a refund. From John and Christine Johnstone, an English couple who lived in Melaka and we met on Tioman we still remembered they lived next to hotel Lisbon so we took a taxi and headed to the Portuguese Settlement. Hotel Lisbon faces the Strait of Melaka and had comfortable, quiet rooms surrounding a big fountain in the patio. Later that evening we met up with the Johnstones and Mark and Laura with their 2 year old daughter Madeleine. We met then on Tioman and they were on a round the world trip as well. We all had a good laugh about the hotel adventure, lost money but gained a good story.
Hotel Lisbon is next to the Portuguese Settlement, an attempt to rebuild an old Portuguese square on the exact spot where the original Portuguese immigrants lived in the 17th century. Around the square live a couple of thousand fishermen with their families today, most of them descendants from the original inhabitants. While we were there the yearly Festa de San Pedro was celebrated. The whole block was shut off for traffic, all kinds of Portuguese food stalls were set up and there was singing and dancing. We met at the Festa again with John, Christine and a couple of their Malaysian friends. Mark, Laura and Madeleine also joined as they were staying with the Johnstones for a couple of days. The day after we visited John and Christine in their apartment close to hotel Lisbon, which has a swimming pool so Sara and Madeleine could play around in the water. John and Christine are 60+ and very nice people. Despite their age there are passionate about diving and go regularly to the East coast where diving seems to be better than the West coast. John likes his pint at the end of the day so that’s probably why he settled on the West coast instead of the more or less alcohol free East coast. They are both crazy with Madeleine and Sara, despite the language barrier. Looks like they are ready for grandchildren.
Through John we got the mobile number of Albert, his Indian friend the taxi driver. Albert is 60 but looks like he is 40 and provided in car entertainment for Sara with his various baby and animal sounds. He is also a master at imitating foreign accents with as highlight the stressed Japanese tourist who wants to see Melaka in 1 hour before he has to leave with the bus again. Apart from being a funny guy, having Albert saved us from dealing with the irritating taxi mafia. At the Hotel Lisbon we were trying to solve the mystery of the big green arrow above the bed labelled Arah Kiblat. We asked at check out and the arrow served as orientation guide for Arabs without sense of direction during prayer by pointing to the direction of Mekka.
We decided to stay one more night in Melaka to see Chinatown by night and booked a room at the Heeren Inn, located on the road that just to the Dutch Heeren Straat before it was changed into a Chinese name. After the Portuguese and before the British, the Dutch have rules over Melaka and this is still visible at certain landmarks in town. There is for example the Stadthuys, the Christ Church and the Dutch graveyard. Some are still trying to cash in on that period, like in the Dutch Harbour Club where they served Dutch ‘kroketten’ and Gouda cheese. We opted for local fare instead and Sara was craving for fresh fruit. The staff was all over Sara and her blonde hair and gave her all kinds of fruit with dragonfruit with vanilla ice as her favourite.
With the heat becoming really sticky we headed for the public swimming pool behind the Stadhuys. The man at the counter did not speak English but gestured straight away that he would like to see my swimming shorts. As I pulled them out of my bag he nodded fiercely no and took out a poster with all kinds of obscure small swimming pants. Contrary to normal clothes here which is a bit baggy, swimming attire needs to be really tight. Perverted life guards perhaps? The last time I walked around in tight Speedo’s was at primary school and frankly I rather stayed out in the heat than purchasing a few centimetres of swimming cloth in the next door shop. Brigitte wouldn’t have gotten in anyhow with bikini so we went to the cool park behind the pool which also had a small play garden so Sara didn’t mind the cancelled swim anymore.
Melaka’s Chinatown concentrates around Jalan Hang Jebat, Jonkers Straat in the old days. On Friday and Saturday the street is closed for traffic and hundreds of Chinese come out to sell food and all kinds of plastic stuff in small stalls. Very good atmosphere and paradise for Sara. She ran up and down the street looking for the one ultimate gift she was allowed to choose. She hesitated between a plastic singing bird and a jumping ball with lots of noise. In the end she chose the ball and made everyone smile as she tried to catch the jumping ball in the street. At Café EZ we bumped into John’s Indian friends again and had a few beers with them. There was also a Dutch John who turned to be from Roermond but now living in Melaka. He was 80 years old and still going strong having his daily pint at his favourite bar. Happy to be able to speak the Dutch Limburg dialect again he gave me his life story which in a nutshell boils down to enjoying life from his better than average Philips pension among friends in Melaka. Quite a difference compared to spending your days in an elder’s home in Holland counting the rainy days.
Melaka is a nice town to spend a couple of days but do go during the weekend as Chinatown is at its best. Unfortunately, spontaneous travel becomes more and more difficult so book ahead. During our stay most of the nice guesthouses (we found Puri, Heeren House and Baba House very ok) were booked solid during the weekend so we decided to leave for Kuala Lumpur on Saturday already.
Hotel Lisbon is suitable if you would like to be outside Melaka;s downtown hassle. There is always a nice cool breeze and next to it is a small play garden. You need to catch a taxi or bus to city centre as it is to far by foot. As a proper Muslim hotel they don’t serve alcohol but plenty of bars and restaurants in the neighbouring Portuguese Settlement to compensate.
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On the road and boat to Tioman
After an extended stay in Singapore it was time to move on to Malaysia. As the express bus tickets were almost sold out and getting the last ones meant crossing the entire city with taxi to be on time before the ticket point closed, we decided to skip the bus and take a taxi to cross the border. Our taxi driver was the spitting image of late Indonesian president Soeharto and was not the talkative type until we arrived Woodlands Checkpoint, where hundreds of cars queued for the border crossing. Suddenly, our man behind the wheel started calling left and right but in the end couldn’t do more than just sit back and drive at 2 km/hour. The border crossing itself took longer than the drive because of Singapore formalities, first checking the trunk for hidden passengers and then having the passport stamped and a biometric fingerprint taken for the archives. The Malaysian customs before entering Johor Bahru (JB) were much quicker and on top of that did it with a smile.
Arriving at JB we had to get the next taxi to Mersing, an insignificant little place at the east coast where the ferries to Pulau Tioman took off. Abdul, our next taxi driver, made us a special price on the trip but it still felt as a bit of a rip off. He did it with such style however that we couldn’t but smile and gave in. Given the distance, the price was still very low (approx € 30) but it showed the difference in price standards between Malaysia and Singapore as the fare from Singapore to JB was as much as the fare from JB to Mersing, almost 6 times longer in distance.
Abdul’s driving skills would cause him jail time back in Holland but in Malaysia it was apparently the normal thing to do. He was most of the times almost in the trunk of the car in front of him, and overtaking was a question of who had the strongest nerves if a car on the opposite side approached. After the crazy ride we arrived way too early at the ferry in Mersing, so time for some lunch. Seafood Nasi Goreng and a coke for just € 1.50! Sara was again the star attraction at the food stalls but this time made it clear to everyone that she didn’t like to be picked up which is luckily respected by all.
The ferry to Pulau Tioman took almost 2 hours and the first sights of the island were great. Mountains covered with lush green forests and deserted coves and beaches. Tioman was put on the top 10 list of most beautiful islands in the world in the 1970s by Time Magazine and since then it had gone downhill slightly. Fast ferries and an all inclusive beach resort with its own air service perhaps over stimulated tourism in the years after. We chose for the west coast, for a small village called Air Batang. Recommended for families and supposedly not spoilt by mass tourism. Air Batang is nothing more than a 1 km wide strip of land bordered by mountains on one side and the sea on the other. Tourist accommodation lies next to the beach while the locals live in huts against the mountain slopes, a more or less peaceful co-existence. We pre-booked via email a hut near the beach at Air Batang Chalets with A/C which turned out to be a good move as all chalets were booked solid in this period. The chalets are beautifully situated in a nice garden with a fresh water creek running through it. The beach is perfect for Sara as the water is very shallow. With the majority being Australian families, we are the only Dutch one at this side of the village, or Kampung as it is called in Malay. Euro 2008 is the hot topic here and all games are shown live on tv in several bars, even though it is 02h45 AM. I got up for the Portugal – Germany quarterfinal and found myself in a rather strange setting. The sea in the background, Bob Marley on the speakers, a few locals on the floor stoned from smoking a huge joint and a football crazy Australian next to me throwing all kinds of Guus Hiddink trivia at me.
Sara is having a ball here and is big friends with all children but especially with a local kid called Deryan, who is a bit older than her. After his initial shyness he now follows her everywhere, much to the amusement of the locals. Even at this age Sara is already dominating her first boyfriend. Apart from playing at the beach, there are plenty of animals to look out for. Huge butterflies and ants, the occasional monkey (although we still have to spot the first one) and lots of bats which produce squealing pig noises when sleeping in trees nearby during the day. There is also a resident monitor lizard measuring over 1 meter which is supposed to be harmless.
Life is good at Air Batang and we enjoy every minute of it. We could easily stay for another week or more but want to move on to see more of Malaysia. In the last days, we have met two other couples with children who are respectively halfway and at the end of their world trip. Great to see other ‘crazy’parents and to find out the reasons for doing this are more or less similar. Their stories give us even more energy and enthusiasm to continue our journey.
Now that Holland is out of Euro 2008 we don’t have to bother about planning ahead for places with satellite TV. We changed our itinerary and instead of going north up the east coast we will probably head off to Malakka on the west coast to suck in some Dutch history first .
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