Sarawak, Malaysian Borneo

Talor: By the time we were feeling better, we were needing to move quickly and cover some ground since we only had about a week before making our flight to Bali to meet Kappy. So we set our sights on Sibu, a city on the Western side of Malaysian Borneo. There we hoped to make a trip upriver to visit longhouses. But to get there wasn't going to be easy... we took a 2-hour bus ride west to a town called Seria then changed buses for another half-hour ride to Kuala Belait. From there, we boarded a bus for a 10-minute ride to a boat for a 5-minute ride across the river. On the other side, there was a bus waiting for us, which took us to the border. After formalities on both sides, we got on yet another bus for a 1 ½ hour ride to the town of Miri. We were finally in Sarawak, but rather than stop there, we decided to go for the record... killed a few hours then boarded a night bus for a 10-hour ride to Sibu. We finally made it, but we were a mess!

The bus pulled into Sibu a couple hours early (imagine that!), and we were dropped off at the bus-terminal at 5:00 in the morning. Bleary-eyed, we got a cab to the Hoover Lodging House, checked into a tiny windowless room and immediately passed out for several hours. Upon waking, we moved to a larger room with a window then went downstairs to the corner coffee shop and realized we were smack dab in the middle of Chinatown... aaaah! Our favorite part of town! Spent the next couple of days finding out the boat schedules for the trip upriver and just checking out the town. Visited an impressive 7-tired Chinese temple where we were given the keys to climb up to the top for great views of the city. Went to a night market and gorged ourselves on street food then took in a free concert in the park. We also found, just down the street, a hawker stall with the best plate of keow tuoh (broad rice noodles) ever... spicy, smoky and a little bit sweet, served with roast pork and a fried egg... we couldn't get enough of it!

Then it was time to try our luck upriver... we decided against going with a tour because we wanted something a bit more authentic than a packaged tour so we took a speedboat to the town of Kapit on the Betang Rejang (river) and started asking around. A woman at a hotel suggested we go to the market and there, once again, we asked people about visiting a longhouse. Unfortunately, most didn't speak English. We were beginning to feel dejected and wondering if it was a mistake coming without a guide when I saw Akau, a man with a kind face. So I decided to try one more time and hit gold! His English wasn't very good so we weren't quite sure what we were getting ourselves into, but decided to trust our instincts and take a chance. Turned out to be one of the most memorable days of our entire trip...

We got into his boat and took a short ride to a longhouse, where we were welcomed in and immediately served refreshments. A longhouse is just that... a long house... with a row of individual apartments for each family and a shared veranda out front that runs the length of the house. That is where all the socializing happens. Whole communities live in these longhouses with a leader, elected by the people, who oversees things and settles disputes. Despite the individual apartments, most things are shared by the community, including labor, creating a harmonious environment. We were invited to lunch and then to an “end-of-mourning” party at another longhouse later in the day.

After lunch, Akau took us to the other longhouse where the party would be (and where we would spend the night), and along the way, we stopped to take in cockfights. I was both repulsed and fascinated by this ancient past-time that has been going on for centuries. Later we found out that in their animist beliefs, the people held the cockfights in order to appease the war gods who would then allow for a peaceful party later on. Afterwards, we were led to a river to cool off and bathe where we were greeted by kids shouting, “Hello!” Then it was a steep climb up to the longhouse, where once again, we were welcomed in, no questions asked, and immediately served rice wine and snacks.

Soon the men were back from the cockfights, the loser cocks were cleaned and put on a bbq, and the party got underway... for the next 24-hours! The Iban tribe we were visiting have a tradition of mourning a death for a year, then they throw an end-of-mourning party attended by all the longhouses in the neighborhood. For 24 hours, people eat, drink and celebrate while drums are beating and mourning songs are sung. We never experienced hospitality like that before... though we were strangers, we were welcomed in and treated like family. We were invited from group to group to share their food, drinks and anything else they had. After several hours, we couldn't eat or drink anymore, but couldn't say no, which would have been an insult. By 10:00, we were simply exhausted! According to tradition, no one is supposed to go to sleep, but they took pity on us, and cleared some space on the floor of the leader's house where we eventually passed out. At 5:00 in the morning, Akau woke us for yet another round of food and drinks before taking us back to Kapit where we boarded a speedboat back to Sibu, arriving yet again, absolutely exhausted. But this time, we were happy-exhausted and couldn't stop thinking about, and talking about, our experience. It was truly amazing!

We checked back into the Hoover Lodging House where the kind old men who run the place saved us the same room #104 with a window. The AC and warm shower felt like heaven! Spent the day resting and recovering, then got ready to move on. The next morning, we boarded another speedboat for a 4 ½ hour ride to Kuching, the capital of Sarawak. Settled into a comfortable room at the Kuching Waterfront Lodge in Chinatown, then spent the next three days walking around the city sightseeing.

Couldn't believe we had been in Malaysia for seven weeks! Though I bitched and moaned a lot during that time about crappy lodging and unwalkable sidewalks, I felt sad to leave. I'm really gonna miss the hustling bustling chinatowns, the wonderfully flavorful food, and especially, the friendly smiling faces... sigh.

Erik: Yes, the Iban longhouse party was definitely one of the highlights of the trip. I've never met people so welcoming and generous. We felt almost a part of the community, and smiling faces kept pulling us from one door of the longhouse to the next, to share in each family's celebration, food and drink...and drink...and drink. It's impolite, bordering on offensive, to refuse an offer of food or drink, and I being a man, was constantly being offered the latter – palm wine and the much more potent, black arak – a bitter/sweet liquor many times more potent than the palm wine. It seemed that every few minutes a new glass of each was shoved in my hands, and I soon became adept at kindly accepting it, then misplacing my glass – otherwise I'd have been done for before night fall. As it was, with a great deal of polite restraint, I only managed to remain conscious until 10pm or so, and I can only remember the last few hours of the evening with the aid of T's many photos. The worst part was that when Akau woke us at 5am, there were all my friends huddled around a huge Johnnie Walker bottle, having been up drinking the entire night, and they were now eagerly awaiting me to continue the party! I've never quite experienced anything like that one day upriver in the Iban longhouse. I just wish that I remembered more of it!

Photos of Sarawak:

Sibu, Borneo Malaysia

Kapit, Borneo Malaysia

Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysia

Sabah, Malaysian Borneo

Erik: I had such high hopes and excitement about Borneo: unique wildlife, some of the world's largest caves, mysterious tribes living deep in the rain forest. Before leaving on our trip, I would cite Patagonia and Borneo as examples of the far-flung, magical-sounding places we hoped to visit. Patagonia never happened because our first time in south america it was winter, and the 2^nd time our passage there was blocked by an erupting volcano. Borneo was very nearly a bust because of bad luck and bad time management.

For only the 3^rd time in 16 months, we had a set time frame in which to visit the world's 3^rd largest island – 3 weeks. This was because we'd purchased onward tickets to Bali to meet up with my friend Kappy who was coming to vacation there and share our journey for a while – the first time we would have a friend come travel with us, and we were excited about it. By the time we'd got all of our passports, visas and doctor visits sorted out in KL, we had 3 weeks left before flying to Bali, so we planned accordingly, not trying to cram too much into that time, but hoping to see as much as possible.

Our first stop was Sandakan in the Sabah district of Malaysian Borneo. “Sandakan” - it sounds mysterious and magical, like a town out of the Arabian Nights. We'd read that at one time Sandakan boasted the largest percentage of millionaires per capita in the entire world, so we expected some lavish, lush city of beauty and mystique. What we found was a small-sized concrete city full of broken sidewalks and dirty vendor stalls. There was absolutely no beauty to the city at all – everything was ugly, dirty and dilapidated. Even the port was full of old, rusting navy ships and not much more.

It didn't matter, though. We'd come to Sandakan for two things: orang utangs and river safaries. We did succeed in visiting the orang utang rescue center just outside town, which was wonderful to see, though very short and very touristy. Sandakan is also the jumping off point for river trips into the rain forest to spot the unique Bornean wildlife, such as pygmy elephants, crocodiles, orang utangs, etc. Upon arrival, we checked into the Mayfair Hotel, a small guesthouse run by the surly, but lovable, Mr. Lum. The rooms weren't luxurious, but large enough and they each boasted a flat-screen tv and dvd player, and full access to Mr. Lum's huge dvd movie collection – which proved quite useful in the days to come.

We called Uncle Tan's river lodge to organize a few days upriver, but they were full for the next few days. We really didn't want to stay in the ugly, boring city any longer, but finally decided that the river safari was worth a few day's wait, and so reserved for 2 days later.

The next day Talor fell ill, with piercing headaches, fever and congestion. We waited a day, but she only got worse, and so had to cancel our reservation. I was more worried about Talor than any stupid midget elephants, but she assured me that it was just a bad cold, so we got her some medicine from the pharmacy and waited. After a few days, she was feeling better and thought she could deal with the rustic trip upriver, so we called Uncle Tan's, but they were full again. Aaargh! After a week in the awful, broken, polluted, concrete city, we decided to skip the safari and move on.

We were now several days behind schedule, so we took a long, all-day bus to Sabah's capital city, Kota Kinabalu. “KK”, as it's referred to was a bit prettier than Sandakan, but only marginally so. It was also terribly expensive. After much searching, we found a tiny, almost-affordable room. The next day we hopped on a boat out to some islands just off shore that were supposedly beautiful and tranquil. Again our timing was off, though. It was the weekend, and the islands were swarming with hoards of local tourists. The snorkeling was crap, the beaches crowded and the food mediocre and terribly expensive. Oh well. We'd used up nearly ½ of our 3 weeks at this point, so we moved on the next day to Brunei Darussalam.

Talor: Aaaah... Sandakan... only 3 things worth mentioning...

1. It was one of the ugliest cities I'd ever been in. Instead of opulence, which I had envisioned, there were rundown concrete block buildings competing for the “worst slum in the world” award.

2. Mr. Lum (who Erik already mentioned), pushing 70 according to him, but I was convinced he was taking some magic pills since he only looked 40... 50 tops!

3. The illness, which came at the worst possible time, but when is it ever a good time to be sick? It is worth noting that, under the circumstances, I couldn'tve asked for a better “nurse.” E took the best care of me... getting me food and making sure I took my meds on time... sitting in the heat of the room when I had the chills, and pumping up the AC when I was burning up... anything and everything I needed to make me feel as comfortable as possible! In my mind, there is no better travel partner... EVER!!

Two nights, one day in Kota Kinabalu was enough. Famous for their sunsets, they didn't tell us the view would be blocked by corrugated metal walls. But at least we found the Filipino Night Market where we got freshly grilled fish and squid for a song.

Photos of Sandakan and KK:

Sandakan, Malaysian Borneo

Kota Kinabalu, Malaysian Borneo

Hellos, goodbyes, and a lot of waiting in KL

Talor: The kindness of strangers... after three hot soggy days in Cherating, headed to the bus stop and got a ride with a guy who was driving to Kuantan. He asked for nothing more than our company and the opportunity to practice English during the 40 minute ride to the next town where we needed to catch the bus to Kuala Lumpur. This was the third time we were given lifts by kind strangers in Malaysia, and we were grateful. As we got in his car, the AC felt heavenly! He dropped us at the bus terminal in Kuantan, and we offered him some money for gas, the least we could do. And the timing worked out perfectly... within a few minutes, we had tickets in hand and boarded a bus for a 4-hour ride to KL.

We arrived into KL and guess what? Just our luck, it was raining... again. We managed to make our way back to the Hotel Lok Ann, where we were greeted with smiles by the old men who ran the place. Settled in and took it easy for the rest of the day to rest up before taking care of business... a trip to the American Embassy to get additional visa pages for my passport, and then to the Indonesian Embassy to apply for an extended visa. We were figuring it would only take a couple of days to get those two things taken care of and we'd be on our way. Well, we were wrong...

The trip to the American Embassy was a bit of a hassle because it was the first time we had to deal with rush hour in KL. We took the LRT, but had to wait for three trains to go by before we could board because they were so crammed with people. Finally, pushed and forced our way onto the fourth train that pulled in and rode like sardines to Ampang Park. Once there, we had a long, hot, shadeless walk on broken sidewalks on a major street with cars whizzing by us way too fast. We didn't know which side of the street the embassy would be on, but after walking what seemed like forever, we realized we needed to be on the other side. But there are no traffic lights and no way to cross so we had to walk a mile back to cross over on a pedestrian bridge. By the time we got there, we were embarrassingly soaked in sweat. Then the fun really began...

Getting the extra visa pages for my passport was no problem, it took just a few hours, but when we showed Erik's decrepit passport to the official behind the desk, she basically shook her head and said he'd need a new passport, and it would take two weeks! We pleaded and pleaded and finally she agreed to expedite it, but it would still take a week. And the visa photos we had been carrying around with us for months were not to the specifications of the passport so we had to walk back to the mall by the train station to get new photos for E. After he submitted them, we went back to the hotel feeling absolutely exhausted.

The next day we did exactly the same thing, but with an even longer walk to the Indonesian Embassy to pick up visa applications and to find out what we would need to submit with the application. You would think for such a poor country, they would welcome Western tourists and their dollars, but strangely, they make it hard... they only issue 30-day visas on arrival for $25 that is not extendable, and you have to show proof of exit. Indonesia is a big country and we knew 30 days would go very quickly so we wanted to try and get a 60-day visa for about $50 to save us the hassle and expense of having to leave the country and return again for another 30-day visa. So we left with the applications since there was nothing to be done until we got Erik's passport back in a week.

As we left and walked back to the train station, we passed a medical center and I talked E into stopping in so we could have the growth on his shoulder checked out. He had had it for a month or so and kept promising to go see a doctor, but never did. So here was his chance. As we approached, we saw valet parkers with traditional attire and inside it was super-fancy, shiny glass, steel and marble. We were feeling a bit intimidated and thought for sure it would cost a fortune, but we figured we could at least get a referral and move on. The friendly lady at the information desk directed us to the Dermatology Department on the third floor so we took the glass elevator up looking out open-mouthed into the seriously elegant interior that looked more like a 5-star hotel lobby than a hospital. The accommodating staff at Dermatology were not fazed that we didn't have an appointment, and said the doctor could fit him in in about an hour. And the real kicker was that it would only cost a fraction of what we'd pay in the U.S. in an overcrowded clinic where you're more likely to catch something than get healed. So after much deliberation, we decided to stay and waited while using their free wi-fi. Soon, E had his biopsy, but we needed to return in eight days to get the stitches out so now our short stay in KL was turning into a much longer one... o well. The good news is that the growth turned out to be nothing to worry about... whew!

With eight days to kill, we could have gone back to the East Coast to the popular island of Tioman or even closer was Lumut, just four hours away, where we could take a ferry to another popular island. But we thought we're always “just passing through” KL, and we've never given it a chance. Why not stay and get to know it? So over the next few days, we not only got to know it, but grew to really hate it!

First of all, the heat and humidity is seriously unbearable... that is, when it's not raining, and it rained alot. And when it rained, it wasn't a happy welcome “thank you” rain, it was more like a torrential downpour of biblical proportions that made everybody run for cover as the streets get absolutely flooded. This would happen two or three times a day... everyday! And when it wasn't raining, it was so hot, we wished for rain. It seemed we were perpetually soaked, either by rain or sweat. Yes, I sweat in Malaysia... not glow, but sweat... like a man!

Second, it's really overcrowded, noisy, stinky and has way too much car traffic. And walking around town is a frustrating experience... sidewalks are broken down with gaping drainage holes and when it rains, the worn-down tiles are super slippery. The few decent sidewalks there are are taken up by vendors, food and drink hawkers and parked cars. So you find yourself walking in the street half the time and the drivers of KL are not very kind, they are aggressive and do not give way to pedestrians.

Every time we set out to go sightseeing, it would either rain (like the time we went to the garden district), be too crowded (like when we tried to go up the Petronas Towers) or would be closed even though we were there during published visiting hours (like the time we visited Masjid Jamek). After awhile, it became too frustrating so we gave up.

After much searching, we finally found a peaceful place by the river to have a run, but we had to brave the stink of the dirty polluted river that people chuck their trash into. KL, and most of what we've seen in Malaysia, has a serious litter problem. There is garbage everywhere! It's really infuriating to see people toss garbage into the river, the street, everywhere but into the garbage cans that are found throughout the cities. The “No Littering” signs are completely ignored. It's no wonder the streets are thoroughly infested with fat rats and giant cockroaches.

KL does have a couple of saving graces... the people and the food. We met up with Chuong, who we knew on the Corn Islands in Nicaragua back in June when he was a Dive Master helping Erik get his Rescue Trainer Certification. Now he's all “respectable” with a cushy marketing job in KL. He and his girlfriend, Stephanie a native of KL, took us to dinner at a cool Arabian restaurant, where we sat on cushions inside a tent and gorged ourselves on delicious food. That was definitely a highlight. In fact, mention KL, and I'll always remember the food... the warm soft tofu with brown sugar, noodles of every shape and size cooked every which way, whole steamed fish, herbal pork stew, rice porridge with raw fish, veggie dumplings, rotis, tandoori chicken, amazingly sweet mangos... the list goes on and on.

One other thing... we have always been “chain snobs” and turned up our noses at all the Mickey-Ds, KFCs, 7-11s and, especially Starbucks, we see everywhere because they are so formulaic and also because they tend to drive Mom & Pop shops out of business. But, in KL, we sought them out because they turned out to be peaceful havens for us to escape the chaos and enjoy AC and free wi-fi, and the always friendly staff never ask us to make a purchase. Plus, from what we have seen, it seems Starbucks and the small coffee shops can co-exist peacefully, probably because of the huge price difference... coffee at Starbuck's are at NYC prices, which is about 5x the price of a coffee in a kedai kopi. I'm not saying we're converts or anything, but if the monks like it, it can't be that bad.

Anyway, once we had passports and visas in hand and E's stitches taken out, we were, for once, glad to be leaving a place...

Erik: Not much left for me to say after all that! KL is an aggressive city, and definitely not set up with pedestrians like us in mind. Our timing was just unlucky as well, as this is not supposed to be the rainy season. Oh well...

The highlight was our great Arab meal with Chuong and Stephanie. It was great to see Chuong again, and what a change – from dive master beach bum to marketing executive – well done! We hope to see you both again on our way out. (And Stephanie, please don't take offense at our harsh words about your city – we just had a really hard time while we were there!)

The worst thing that happened while in KL was learning that our friend Gerry, who had been fighting cancer the last few months, was in hospice. I called and spoke to his mother, who relayed to him that T and I loved him and were thinking of him all the time. (I could hear his voice, full of morphine, in the background say, “What a nice guy!”) I was shocked and hurt to find out that he was in hospice and I couldn't help crying on the phone with his mother. Two days later I received news that Gerry had passed away. We miss you, buddy. We'll be passing through some great surfing destinations over the next few months, and so dedicate the rest of our trip to you. RIP.

T and I were at a loss as to how to react to such shocking news. I insisted that we go to the bar downstairs and raise a glass to Gerry – an ex-bartender. Much “arak” was poured on the ground and tears shed in Gerry's honor that evening.

We like to think that life at home stands still while we're away. Obviously that's not the case, but it's rare that you take notice of it on shorter trips. When you've been gone 15 months, though, it seems that everything back home is speeding by without you. I've missed a good friend's wedding, and may well miss the birth of their first child. Now losing Gerry, I can't help feeling sad, and almost a bit selfish at being so far away for so long. Here we are, gallivanting at our leisure around the world, when important things are happening to people we care about back home. Are we being self-centered? I don't think so. This trip had been a dream of ours for years. Finally making the leap was a major decision and involved a great deal of work, planning and sacrifice. I'm glad that I was able to relay a message to Gerry before he moved on, and I hope he understood (understands?) that we think about him every day. I hope that all our friends and family know how much we love and miss them, and that they are happy that we're finally able to live our dream. We're lucky to have a couple of friends coming to join us in Bali next month, which will be great.

Anyway, enough of the maudlin introspection. We do care about you all, and really look forward to seeing everyone when we get home. For now, with passports, visas and strange skin growths taken care of, we're off to to the world's 3^rd largest island, Borneo.

More photos of KL...

Kuala Lumpur (2), Malaysia

Rained out in Cherating, Malaysia...

Erik: After one more day in Terengganu, during which Talor introduced to me to all her favorite foods and people (she has an amazing knack for making friends – everyone welcomed her with big smiles and open arms, and very happy to finally meet the absent “husband”), we decided to move on. We needed to get back to KL, as T's passport was full, and we needed to get to the US Embassy to have extra pages put in, but we decided to make a stop midway at the small surfer enclave of Cherating.

The bus left us off on the side of the highway at the main road into town. It was a short, 1/2-mile walk into town. This time T left me with the bags at a cafe and spent a good couple of hours wandering the small town, scouting out all the bungalow options. While she was searching, there was some commotion in the cafe, and I turned to see a macaque monkey swing into the small store next door, land on a stand of packaged snacks, steal a bag of nuts, and then swing back off. Funny that we've been to so many tropical places, into deep jungles, and the only “wild” monkeys we've seen have been wandering the animal rescue centers, or stealing packaged snacks in the center of town!

T did a great job checking out places to stay, and got us a cheap (RM 40/$11) bungalow with fridge, TV and fan, and nice little porch to hang out on. We even picked up wi-fi from the pizza cafe next door! It was run by a lovely man, Mr. Din, who happily helped us with any info we needed, and even brought us mosquito coils, mangos and an umbrella when it rained, which it did quite often.

Cherating is a very calm little surfer town, and the locals (mostly surfer bums) and tourists mingle quite easily. The beach isn't beautiful, but it's large and I was able to swim to cool off and get some exercise in the afternoons. There's not too much to do, but it's definitely relaxing.

The afternoon we arrived, I was sitting out on the porch when I spotted Andy and Pat from Pulau Perhentian at the pizza cafe next door. I went over and said “hi”, and they offered to go buy some beers for later. We ended up having a fun evening chilling on our porch drinking beer and whiskey, which they'd brought with them – good fun.

We spent the next couple of days checking out the town (when it wasn't pouring rain.) There's a large, modern cultural center which was never open, as well as several small restaurants and bars. We went to hear a live “R&B” band one night as well. They were good, but the music was more top 40's hits than R&B. Still even if we didn't love the selection of music, it was well and energetically performed.

Without much to do, though, and far too much rain, we decided to get a move on back to KL and get business taken care of. We'd heard from several people how erratic the local buses were, which we needed to get to nearby Kuantan in order to catch the long-distance bus to KL. Indeed, after lugging our packs out to the highway, we waited over ½ an hour in the heat, when a very nice man pulled up in his car and offered us a ride to Kuantan. He drove us straight up to the bus terminal, which was incredibly hospitable of him. Even though we weren't smitten with Malaysia overall, the people were some of the friendliest we'd met anywhere. From Kuantan we got a bus right away, and were back in big, noisy KL by mid-afternoon.

Talor: What can I say about laid-back Cherating? It certainly is a peculiar place... a popular weekend destination with national tourists, it had been recently developed with a new road, a tourist office and a cultural center, but they were both closed the entire time we were there. It also has... get this... an equestrian club (why there?), though we never saw anyone riding a horse. There were plenty of surfer dudes walking around town, but not surfing since there were no waves. And it also had some of the skankiest flophouse chalets I'd ever seen, and they were not cheap! We were lucky to find a clean chalet at the Payung Guesthouse and spent the next few days watching the rain from our porch. Consoled ourselves with some Western comfort food... surprisingly good thin crust pizza and pretty decent sized “American style” burgers, but they came at a cost, about 10x the price of a standard Malaysian meal... o well, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

The one afternoon it didn't rain, we ventured out to the beach. It wasn't the prettiest beach and the water wasn't exactly crystal clear, but still... it was a beach, so we did a bit of sunbathing and Erik took a swim. It was interesting to see that Malaysians do not go to the beach at the heat of the day, but rather wait til late afternoon/early evening to take a dip. And, like the Cambodians and the Lao, both men and women are much more modest than Westerners and go swimming fully clothed.

But after several days of watching the rain, we were bored so we decided to move on...

Photos of Cherating...

Cherating, Malaysia

On my own on Pulau Perhentian

Erik: A bit of travel advice: keep your passport on you at all times – it's much safer on your body than in your bags. Just as important, though, keep it in something water tight. More on that later...

In Terengganu, I'd looked into heading out to Pulau (island) Redang, which supposedly boasts great diving, but the prices and what seemed to be over development put me off – it was really more of a holiday resort island than a remote island paradise. A few hours north, near the Thai border were the Perhentian islands, the smaller of which had no roads, only a few bungalow resorts, and great diving, so that seemed the better option. T wasn't too interested in staying on a tiny island for any length of time, so as she mentioned before, we decided to split up for a week and do our own thing.

Getting there was easy – 2 ½ hour bus ride and then an hour ferry ride out to the island. Perhentian is actually two islands – the larger and more modern Perhentian Besar, and the smaller, simpler (and cheaper) Perhentian Kecil. I headed for the latter, and wasn't disappointed. I arrived on the Coral Bay side, which is comprised of about 100 meters of narrow sand beach and with 5 or so groupings of beach bungalows, a few restaurants and two dive shops. It was truly the rustic island getaway so many other places try to be – no roads, electricity only at night, and nothing to do but sit on the beach, swim or dive.

The far side of the island (a whopping 10 minute walk away) is Long Beach, with a much larger beach (go figure), and more of a backpacker, party-beach atmosphere. I opted for the beauty and calm of coral bay, as I really was there to relax and dive. Within 30 minutes of arrival I had a place to stay and was booked on an afternoon dive.

That evening after the dive and the shower, it hit me that I was on my own and could do whatever I wanted – a very strange feeling after so much time together. Spending nearly 24/7 together over a long period of time just isn't healthy for a relationship – and after so much time on the road, we're used to it as the norm, and you begin to forget the liberty of being able to make decisions on your own, doing exactly what you feel like doing, when you feel like doing it. Or simply doing nothing! The freedom of being on my own really was quite exhilarating for the first few days.

Speaking of doing what I wanted to do, beer on the island is quite expensive ($3/can), so I opted for the more economical small bottle of vodka and hung out with the dive crew at Steffen's Sea Sports. We shared a few drinks and diving stories, then I wandered over (all of 10 feet over) to the restaurant next store for an amazing fish BBQ. It was pricey ($4 for a huge king fish steak, potato, salad, fruit and banana bread!) , but I was famished and finished every last bit. Once I'd finished eating, though, it hit me – what do I do now? Well, there really was nothing to do, so I wandered back to my bungalow, read my book beneath the mosquito net. It's nice to be able to do whatever you want, as long as there's something you want to do!

Over the next 6 days, I did little more than that. Dive, eat, drink and read. Many of the dives were truly spectacular, and so I was never bored during the day. In the evenings, though, I did miss Talor and would often wish I had someone to share the beautiful sunsets with, etc. I made friends with the dive staff, though – many of them local to the island, or from the neighboring cities on the coast. Some of the other divers would do the same, such as Peter from Sussex and Andy, an American who teaches English in Japan, who we would meet up with later in Cherating as well.

The island is far from perfect – there are lots of mosquitos (one morning I found 8 of them, fat with blood inside my mosquito net!), and the food and drink is very over-priced and mostly mediocre. The diving is cheap and very good, though, which more than made up for it. My little bungalow perched on a rock overlooking the bay and the beach was nearly perfect - albeit very rustic - as well. In the evenings I would sit there, sip vodka listening to BBC World News on shortwave and stare at the stars. It was very beautiful and very relaxing, but after a week I really did miss T and was ready to get back.

Now back to that advice about the passport. I took the 8am ferry back, and as soon as we were loaded in the small, open boat, it started to rain. OK, no problem, there was a small rain/sun guard over the boat. But then the storm really kicked in, and it was dumping buckets – sideways! Everyone on the boat was soaked within minutes, and the ride took a full hour. I thought about my passport in the zip pocket on my trousers, but there was nowhere to move it to (my bags were at the back of the boat.) Besides, passports are sturdy things, right? (Again, more on that in a later post.

After the boat ride, I waited nearly two hours for a bus back to Terengganu. Luckily Andy was there, too, along with his friend Pat. Finally the bus came, and after boarding, I took out my passport, which was now warping at an alarming angle from the moisture, and many of the stamps were nearly illegible. Still, I didn't think too much of it, and was simply happy to see T waiting for me at the bus station in Terengganu.

Pics from Perhentian:

Pulau Perhentian, Malaysia

Left alone in Kuala Terengganu...

Talor: Who woulda thunk I'd be happy in a dorm room with a shared bath for a whole week? Well... the dorm room at the SanKris Lodge (the only cheap accommodation in town) was clean, had AC, fast wi-fi, a friendly staff, and I had the whole room (6 beds!) to myself! I wasn't exactly roughing it, and all that for the bargain basement price of 20 ringgits (less than $6) per night.

We arrived into Terengganu to explore the islands on the East Coast. Erik had his sights on diving on the Perhentien Islands (north) while I wanted to check out the laid-back Island of Kapas (south). So we decided to take a much needed break and go our separate ways. Said good-bye the next day, and we agreed to stay in touch and meet up in a week. At first, it was a bit disconcerting being on my own after spending each and every day together, but then it slowly sunk in... for the first time in a long time, I could do exactly what I wanted when I wanted! I was completely free!

Kapas was close enough (1 ½ hours away) to do as a day trip so headed out on a Friday around noon... big mistake. Being that the East Coast is mostly Muslim, it meant that Friday is Sunday. The bus dropped me off at the town of Marang from where I would need to take a ferry to Kapas, but it seemed the entire town was shut down for afternoon prayers. And the ferries were actually individual outfits taking passengers back and forth from the island, and they were pretty pricey. So decided it wasn't worth it to go after prayers because there would only be an hour or so before I'd have to return. Plus the marketing materials I picked up from the tourist office made it seem like it was pretty built up now with hi-end resorts, so headed back and gave up on the idea. Instead, I decided to explore Terengganu...

Terengganu is a prosperous town with a nice mix of old and new, and just the right size so that it doesn't overwhelm. It had some interesting sites to see around town, including a developed waterfront with markets and evening performances, a nice beach that was strangely empty when I walked there, a large central market, and of course, a cool little Chinatown. Everything I needed was within walking distance, and the sites that weren't could be visited by taking a comfortable, air-conditioned tourist heritage bus free-of-charge. But best of all, Terengganu has the nicest and the friendliest people around, many who spoke very good English. Every single time I stepped out and into a coffee shop, noodle shop, the market, a bus or whatever, I was guaranteed a conversation, mostly from friendly locals who were curious as to why I was there alone, without my “husband.”

Every morning, I would go to a Kedai Kopi (coffee shop) on a parking lot just around the corner from the Sankris, where the coffeeman made me a nice strong cup of joe. He would repeat everything I said several times because he was learning English, and this would crack up all his friends who were hanging out there. On the long communal tables sat bundles of food wrapped in paper or banana leaves, and it was fun to have the locals explain what each one contained... rice or noodles with chicken, fish or boiled eggs, which made a nice little breakfast. After that I went sightseeing around town, and when I couldn't take the heat anymore, I would stop in at one of the friendly shops in Chinatown for noodles, a fruit shake, and more conversation.

Took a 10-minute ferry ride to the small fishing village island of Duyung and watched traditional craftsmen making boats by hand. Boarded the tourist bus 5k outside of town to the impressive Museum Negara, one of the largest in Malaysia. Also visited the Islamic “Edutainment” Park that is an educational park with no less than 21 mini-replicas of famous mosques from around the world. Then went to see the crown-jewel of the park, the Crystal Mosque, which was larger than life, fully-functioning and truly breath-taking.

Before you knew it, a whole week had gone by, and it was time to go meet Erik at the bus terminal. And when he stepped off the bus, I realized just how much I missed him! But he was sopping wet from the rainstorm, and was just skin and bones. The last thing I told him when he took off by himself to the Perhentiens was “Don't forget to eat!”... well, I guess he forgot. So we dropped off his bags at the Sankris, and I took him to my favorite eateries to fatten him up, including “Sponge Bob burgers” at a burger stand in the street.

In the evening, we took a walk to the hawker food stalls in Chinatown, where locals gather in the evening to eat, drink and socialize. With not much of a nightlife in the Muslim town, except for a couple of dark bars that are called “restorans,” this was definitely the place to be in the evenings. It was funny to see old men gathered to drink beer and watch Chinese soap operas. Then a friendly old man sitting at a table next to us came over and brought us yummy grapes to eat just out of the blue. To return the kindness, Erik bought him a beer, and then from there it escalated into snacks, more rounds of beer, handshakes, hugs and much laughter all around.

The next day we were ready to move on, but I felt really sad to leave...

My many photos of Terengganu...

Terengganu, Malaysia

A very crowded weekend in Melaka, Malaysia

Erik: Melaka is famous for its colonial-era architecture – portugese, dutch and british influences mixed together over hundreds of years. The streets are supposed to be a joy to stroll through, taking in the sites, exploring their unique cuisine, seeing the gentle and friendly mix of so many different cultures living so peacefully together. Well, that's the postcard version, at least.

After a short, very comfortable bus ride (then a subsequent city bus downtown), we arrived in the budget-hotel area of town, which looked like little more than a suburban-sprawl strip-mall in any mid-size city or town. We'd hoped to have left the pricey room-rates of KL behind, but the first few places we looked at were near the high end of our budget, and nothing more than flop pads, with saggy beds, dirty floors, and if we were lucky, a window. Ugh! I let T take a break and watch the bags at a cafe while I spent the better part of two hours looking at dozens of hotels – all more than we wanted to spend and much less than we'd hoped for in regards to comfort. Finally, drenched in sweat, I settled on the Shirah Guesthouse, with adequate rooms at an OK price. The place was run by an Indian-Malay named Steven, who was almost overly friendly, and who really stressed that we were now part of his “family.”

That night Steven took the family (us and a few other guests) to a nice Indian meal of curries, dhal, naan and the like, where we ate with our hands (right hand only!) off of banana leaves. It was good fun, and we enjoyed chatting with our fellow travelers, a group of 3 young Japanese.

Afterwards we explored the old-town, which is now Chinatown. It was nice and impressive, but swarming with thousands of tourists on the main market street. We quickly veered away from the crowds and explored the smaller alleys and streets, all an odd mix of colonial-style buildings done up with chinese decoration. We eventually ended up back at the busy main square, where a large crowd was gathered to watch a main stage where public karaoke was performed, complete with amateur dance crews. It was truly hilarious and good fun, until the singing finally got the better of our ears and we headed back to the guesthouse.

We spent the next few days exploring the sights of Melaka, including a portugese fort, ancient english church on a hill, and of course more of chinatown, which boasted the most interesting colonial buildings, temples and mosques. Unfortunately, getting to these places was a real chore, as there was a huge hill between us and old-town, making what seemed like a short walk on the map into a long, hot trek down narrow, broken sidewalks. We also had to pass through one of the many mega-malls surrounding old-town to get there, which took away from the charm of the colonial sites. (At least they boasted strong AC as we passed through!) I'd been eager to see the famous Straights of Melaka, though as you'd expect, it was just a vast expanse of sea off the industrial waterfront.

We did find some interesting food, such as the town's famous pineapple tarts (including the world's largest one on display), and malay “steamboat”, which consists of skewers of meat, fish, tofu and vegetables which you cook in a vat of bubbling satay (spicy peanut) sauce built into the center of the table. It was fun to eat, but everything ended up tasting like peanuts and little more.

Again, after a few days, we'd seen pretty much all there was to see. Melaka is a very touristy town, and if you're looking for something more than trinket shops and old colonial buildings, then you'll probably end up a bit bored, as I did. From there, we decided to make a bigger leap to the northern part of the eastern malay peninsula, Kuala Terengganu, which entailed yet another 10-hour overnight bus ride. Woohoo!

Talor: Yes, Melaka was way over-crowded with tourists, and with our usual impeccable timing, we had arrived on a weekend, when the town gets inundated with national as well as international tourists... o well. It was kinda fun walking through the evening weekend market in Chinatown's Jonker street where vendors were lined up selling food, clothes, housewares and other knick-knacks. We got to see new food ideas, such as fried egg ice cream and waffle hotdogs, but it was the pineapple tarts that ruled. Famous in Melaka, these tarts (more like cookies with pineapple preserves on top) were everywhere so we went from stand to stand helping ourselves to the samples that were out.

Chinatown was definitely the most interesting part of town. It is famous for it's Baba-Nonya culture (mix of Malay and early Chinese settlers) with their own special cuisine and strong ties to old clans. There were also cool little artesanal shops and traditional wooden doorways, a gorgeous Chinese temple, one of the oldest in Malaysia, as well as mosques and churches. It's so nice to see different religions co-existing peacefully together. The other sites around town were pretty interesting, like the Dutch colonial architecture in the city square (which was more like a triangle), and we both got a real kick out of the decked-out trishaws, especially at night when they were decorated with glittering lights and blasted really bad pop music. But in the end, it became too draining... the long unpleasant walk there and back, and always having to fight through crowds and traffic. So we decided to move on.

Had a day to kill until we took a night bus to Terengganu on the East Coast so we stopped in at the Museum Complex that housed the People's Museum, which gave the history of the people of Malaysia, the three largest groups being original Malay, Chinese and Indian; a Kite and Tops Museum, which we learned are their national past-times; and most interesting of all, the Museum of Enduring Beauty, which chronicled the history of how people go to great pains to “enhance” or “deform” their bodies (depends on how you look at it) based on what is culturally considered attractive.

Some general observations about Malaysia... although it's cool to see the different cultures and religions playing nice, they generally don't mix. And after traveling through Cambodia and Laos, where we saw poverty on a grand scale, it was surprising to see overweight people again. Malaysia is a country that is more prosperous, so they eat well. And it is more modern with better roads, hi-rises and mega-malls, but the modernity isn't across the board... there are still nasty squat toilets in public bathrooms, the fowl smell of the sewer systems and broken down sidewalks. In fact, walking around in the towns and cities is just plain unpleasant... the sidewalks are taken up with vendors and parked cars and there is garbage and open sewage everywhere. On the other hand, the people are super-friendly and nice, except for when a queue is involved, then they are aggressive and down-right rude. Lots of contradictions and never dull, makes me want to explore more. So onto the East Coast, where there are supposed to be the highest concentration of Muslims, but also much more laid back...

Photos from Melaka:

Melaka, Malaysia