The Seagull has landed...

Malacca

I took V to the airport at 10pm on the 29th, we had a tearful goodbye then I spent a lonely night back in the hotel in Petaling Street.

Yesterday I walked 500m up to the chaotic Pudaraya Bus Station to catch my bus to Malacca. I ate a breakfast of two doughnuts and watched the young private bus ticket touts caper about and hassle passersby. They were like a troupe of circus clowns kicking and slapping each other in jest, each with his own hand-held radio, but they were good entertainment. The private buses have a reputation for crazy drivers so I bought a government bus ticket for 9.50RM. Sitting waiting for the bus I was choking from the fumes of the bus yard below the departure hall, it was hot and smelly, I now had my fill of Kuala Lumpur and was more than ready for the off.

After the Petronas Towers were firmly behind us, I had a pleasant two hour journey down to Malacca. The weather was gorgeous - sunny with a cool breeze and my first views from my taxi downtown were of a nicely laidback town with many architectural styles. The  Stadthuys Town Hall was a strange looking thing - it reminded me of the town Clint Eastwood painted red and Called "Hell" in High Plains Drifter (or was it Pale Rider?)

My room is cool - 27RM a night in a laid-back (Malacca's motto, it seems) hostel, with a sun balcony, so I can touch up my fading Thai/Perhentian tan each morning. There doesn't seem to be much life in Malacca after dark, I'm good bit away from Chinatown - I want to see Malaysia, not more Chinese culture. There's a few bars nearby selling beer etc, I might go for a quiet beer tonight.

This morning I checked out the Maritime Museum close by my hostel. It's a mock-up of the Portuguese ship the Flora de la Mar, which sunk off the coast of Malacca in the 16th Century. It was an unusual sight alright, but worth a visit at 3RM.

So, I'm having a relaxed and sunny (sorry V) few days remaining in Malaysia, I will start sketching here too and post the results in due course.

Our last night together

V is flying home tonight from Kuala Lumpur. She is very homesick and the rigours of travelling in this climate, plus the daunting distances involved in the rest of the journey are too much for her. V admits herself she is a home girl at heart, she hasn't the passion for travel that I have. A close family member has also taken very sick in the last few days, so it's probably for the best she goes home for this reason alone. That's not to say I'm going to miss her - I will, like crazy - but the rest of the trip, starting with a bus ride to Malacca tomorrow will now be a solo affair. It will be a long five months.

Last night we took the LRT up to KLCC and the Petronas Towers. It was dusk but the view of the "World's Tallest Building" was pretty impressive. The night was very hot as we schlepped up to the Hard Rock Cafe for nachos, burgers and lots of ice-cold beer. We got there just in time for happy hour and this is what we drank: nice one

After that V was feeling sad about leaving and things at home so we gave up on a big night out and returned to Petaling Street. V went to see these guys - handbag hawkers on the street - where she bought 4 purses and handbags for her sisters at home. These guys appreciate a good customer, the stuff was cheap though, so I took a group hug photo.

Today has been a bit sad, we shopped a bit more and are packing up V's bags for her flight to Gatwick via Dubai at 2am later tonight. It's good that I leave tomorrow, being in KL on my own would be no fun.

Steamy in Kuala Lumpur

V and I took a flight with Malaysia Airlines on the 25th to Kuala Lumpur - cheap as chips at 412RM (70 GBP).

We arrived at the ultra-modern airport before 2pm and took the ultra-modern "Ekspres" train to KL Sentral. A short taxi ride later took us to Petaling Street in the bustling and steaming hot heart of KL's Chinatown.

We found a good reggae bar for a beer that night.

The next two days V and I did the tourist bit by visiting the Masjid Jamek then the National Planetarium. The Planetarium was a real let down, I've always wanted to visit one to sit and watch cinematic stars and planets whizz around the dome above my head. We sat around the space museum beforehand for two hours waiting for the theatre to open, here's a picture of V in the "Black Hole" attraction. I was like a little kid in the theatre waiting for the show to start at 2pm, imagine my disappointment when the show was about the astronomical wonder of....volcanic Hawaii (????)

KL's Chinatown is exactly that - big, fast, crammed, and full of Chinese. But the city itself has none of the charm or the views of Shanghai - there's no contest for me on which is the better city, so far. Tonight myself and V are headed up to KLCC (Kuala Lumpur City Centre, imaginatively enough), and the Petronas Towers, although I've been singurlarly underwhelmed by distant views of The World's Tallest Buildings thus far from Chinatown in the south west.

But the shopping in the hawker stalls under the awnings of Petaling Street are keeping V happy, I even bought cheap binoculars and a lazer light for next to nothing, the lazer I was winding people up with in the street under our hotel room last night. Hopefully I can get a few good shots of the towers this evening.

Castaways

We spent from 21st to the 25th January on Pulau Perhentian Kecil. Landing on Coral Bay on the west side of Kecil we immediately headed the 300m on foot through the jungle to Long Beach on the east. Straightaway the mosquitoes descended on us like a cloud. Long Beach was bigger than Coral Bay, with a big surf pounding the crescent of pure white sand. But, it was totally deserted, or we thought it was, all the rickety bamboo and wood huts and bars looked like a typhoon had hit them - that was nearly right, a tropical storm lashed the islands only 3 weeks ago, the flotsam and damage was plain to see.

So, we packed up and headed back through the path, more bites followed, and we finally laid up at "Mama's Kitchen" on Coral Bay. An old hippie German woman, called Karen, greeted us - she was the only westerner on this island, ergo the only tourist, until we arrived.

We got a damp and smelly chalet for less than half price right on the beach, settled in, and went looking for the big three - food, beer and ciggies, in that order. Food on Coral Bay was Mama's sole preserve - fried rice, fried noodles and Roti - the Malay traditional dish of fried dough and a finger bowl of spicy curry. No menu, no choice, and she closed up at 5pm every day to go home to the fishing village around the headland. This would have been hard work for 5 days if we hadn't discovered "Lilly's" on Long Beach.

"Lilly's" was run by young and cheerful Chinese, so we could buy warm beer and eat fried chicken and rice. The Malay muslim joints, like Mama's, are forbidden by Islamic law from selling booze to tourists. God bless the Chinese. They really saved us because on day two of sampling Mama-San's noodles, V fished out a pubic hair and a dead ant from among the greasy mess. Game set and match to China.

But, what an island! We realised one morning walking over to swim on Long Beach, that we were like castaways. The whole beautiful beach was ours and ours alone. We watched from our beach-front porch the workers from the fishing village land on Coral Bay to help fix up the shops and chalets, ready for the first tourist wave in February, when the season starts as the monsoon fades. At lunchtime everyday this cheerful and singing bunch would lounge under the coconut palms, watching us read or sunbathe, that is until a rather large coconut dropped from 30 feet beside one of them and he jumped nearly as high, to the eternal mirth of his buddies.

One night we headed back from Lilly's through the jungle, it was pitch black, and the light from my torch threw weird shadows over the surrounding bush. Lizards scared us, then a little hermit crab nonchalantly nudged past my flipflop. Back on Coral Bay beach we leapt another 3 foot in the air when we startled more crabs, whose bright eyes on stalks glowed luminescent in the torchlight as they sped sideways back into the sea. One day a lizard as big as a dog slouched past the boards of Lilly's small restaurant, we realised we shared this tiny 1km square island with a lot of Mother nature's favourite beasties.

But alas, before we knew it it was time to get back on an old puffer bound for Kuala Besut, 20km west on the mainland. We had had electric only from 7pm to 2am on Perhentian, no shops, no cold beer, no TV, radio, internet or newspapers. Our day virtually ended everyday around 7pm. We were badly burnt, hungry as hell, a bit smelly but happy for the experience. I think both of us didn't realise how much we enjoyed the perfect isolation of it until we landed back on the mainland then took a taxi to Kota Bharu airport - the jungle path between our two beaches was what passed for a road on Kecil. Pulau Perhentian certainly was different from Koh Phangan, which the German surfer/angler, who arrived on Kecil to stay beside us with his girlfriend on the 24th, calls "Disneyland". These photographs, taken with a very old 5 megapixel Sony Cyber-shot, don't do the place justice.

Into Malaysia

We're finally in Kuala Lumpur. I've a lot to catch up on, so I'll start with our trip from Thailand south to Malaysia.

We set off on an old ferry on a squally and miserable late afternoon from Koh Phangan on the 19th. The island looked murky and wet, the inland hills shrouded in fast-moving mists - a great day to leave after our hot and sunny eight days. We lurched out into the Gulf as the lights of first Phangan, then Koh Samui, dimmed then faded to nothing astern. The wind was whipping the sea up and rain pounded through the cabins with open sides. It was cool, almost cold. V and myself snuggled down in the rear passenger deck, where I took this photo (below) of her practising her muslim dress for Malaysia.

A small Thai man was shouting for about half an hour into his mobile phone, he was hanging over the rolling side of the boat. Next he puked loudly into the sea, but kept on talking to his friend on the phone between retches. I was laughing my head off at him - must have been a really important phone call.

We arrived on the coast at Donsak at 2020hrs, then took a frigidly cold bus to Surat Thani train station. Most westerners were headed north to Bangkok, we were the only non-locals waiting for the train south. The station was full of young Thai soldiers drinking hootch from clear soft drinks bottles. Some of them were roaring drunk and lurched around the platform. I guessed they were coming off leave to return to the low-intensity guerrilla war with the separatist and islamic PULO forces in the muslim south. A last piss-up before re-entering the fight.

The train finally arrived and we flopped on-board into the cramped sleeping berths. At 3am I got soaked through the broken window in the bottom berth, the monsoon is in full swing in SE Asia at present. After an uncomfortably damp and mosquito ridden night we awoke at 8am as we passed through Pattani - the centre area for the battle between the government and the Islamists.

Already there was an increased army and police presence at each junction and station. V noticed we had now an armed Thai soldier riding shotgun on our carriage. He strolled through a while later with his Heckler & Koch G3 assault rifle slung low. Nearer Sungai Kolok, our destination at the border, I noticed body-armour clad soldiers patrolling the rural roads on scooters, the pillion riders in the aim position with their rifles - I've never seen that before, but it beats walking I suppose.

With no further ado we crossed the border smoothly with a German couple we met on the train. They were tempted to head to the Perhentians with us, but the bloke was worried about the monsoon ruining the experience. When I told him the monsoon was a fact all over the country he consented, and off we sped in a little taxi towards Kuala Besut and the ferry terminal for the Islands.

We arrived at the dreary muslim village of Kuala Besut later in the the afternoon, there were no boats until the next day at 12pm. The Germans decided to leave it there and took the same taxi to Kota Bharu. V and I spent a noisy night in a dismal hotel right beside the village mosque - the muezzin was still mewling through the PA at 10pm.

  Next morning at 6am, the muezzin, then cockerels, then three loose and obviously mentally deranged goats kept us awake until we finally had to accept we would get no more sleep that morning.

Our boat was an old puffer held together by rust and paint. We piled on with a crowd of locals and supplies for the Islands. The seas were huge and not long after putting to sea kids were chucking up over the side. I lay on the bow deck, my back was sore, and got soaked again with waves and spray - but it was a fun ride.

We anchored at Coral Bay on west coast of the smaller of the two Perhentians, Kecil, it was beautiful. After an hour or so, when we had to swap boats and wait for a dinghy to come and take us onshore, we finally set foot on the beach of our base for the next 4-5 days, this was Sunday 21st. The Perhentians were a gamble, as it turns out they were everyone's dream of the perfect castaway desert islands.

Leaving Thailand

Yes, unfortunately we leave for Malaysia tonight. V and I will take the Raja Ferry to the mainland at 5pm, then a bus to Surat Thani train station and catch the sleeper train at midnight down to Sungai Kolok on the Thai/Malay border tomorrow morning. Hopefully, from there, we can get a combined bus/boat ticket out to Pulau Perhentian.

Yesterday was one of the best days I have ever spent on holiday. Myself and V booked Weet's little fishing dinghy to go angling in the bay off Haad Salad. Weet is the gentle giant who runs Hope Bungalows where we have been staying. He is also one awesome fisherman.

At 2:30pm we met Weet on the beach, we invited three other people - brothers Craig and Pete from Lancashire, and Pete's wife Sam. I will let the photos here tell the tale, but what a beautiful day we had. We reeled in about 20 fish, from little tiddlers, up to good sized snappers to the silver monster that Weet caught shown here.

Weet and his wife Gar then marinated and grilled the fish which was served at 8pm with salad and rice. It was probably the most delicious meal I have ever eaten, there was enough to feed Duane and Terry too back at Hope restaurant. It tasted so much better because we caught it - last time I ate anything I hunted was snapper back in Belize in '88.

So, Malaysia beckons, I'm well up for moving on - the fact of moving to a new location always thrills me. V is a bit more circumspect - she loves this place.

Thailand was quite an opener on this round the world trip, a hard act to follow.

Koh Phangan tattoo

The Lonely Planet Thailand talks about a "Koh Phangan tattoo". That's the name for the scrapes and scabs that tourists get after repeatedly falling off their hired scooters on the rugged roads here. Well, I hired out a scooter today and went to Thongsala to get the real thing done, and here's the result. I have the bike again tomorrow, so I still have every chance yet of getting the other sort too.

The tattooist was very clean, quick and skilled. I took his card to put his website on the blog: www.phanganbodyart.com, he's recommended.

This afternoon V was feeling a bit homesick so I took her life in my hands and ran her on the scooter up north to Chaloklum, and the Phangan Safari & Eco-Nature tour. Basically it's a jungle hill where they keep bored elephants, which are used to cart seated tourists up a trail for half an hour. At 500 baht per tourist it's pretty steep. V was scared at first, but I was bored and snapped pics of everything, then on the descent I was pre-occupied keeping the hot sun off my prickly-sore tattoo.

On the run back we stopped at a surprise 7-Eleven in Chaloklum village, where V managed to get a phonecard (Haad Salad is shit for ringing out from) and spoke to her mum and best mate Big J. That cheered her up again in no time. 

It's been a great day, feeling the wind in my hair and exploring this wonderful island. Thongsala, the ferry port and main town, is ok. There's a lot of strutting trusties and crusties though, posing around the cafes and bars. Another thing I noticed riding today  - the locals are courteous, safe bike riders, and generally good road users on Phangan. The two assholes who burnt us up north of Salad on their big trail bikes looked mediterranean, hopefully their inevitable Koh Phangan tattoos sting like hell tonight after their dreadlocked asses come a cropper somewhere on the island.

Haad Salad

Haad Salad is perfect. I'm sat here burnt to a crisp but just so happy for having come to see this little paradise in the Gulf Of Thailand. This is a picture of the Haad Salad crew in our favourite haunt, Mr Lek's Reggae Bar.

From left to right: Dwayne from Toronto, Simon from the Wirral, V, Big Terry from back home in Toomebridge, Northern Ireland and yours truly with the double chin. Dwayne and Terry we met on a night out in Bangkok, they're two great lads who have been living in Taiwan for the past two years or so. After 3 weeks in Koh Phangan they plan to go and work in Chengdu, China; so, they've been picking my brains about that big ugly city - it's certainly different from Thailand.

Simon it was who recommended Haad Salad, and we all made our own way to this awesome little spot. The beach here is set in a little cove surrounded by high jungle hills, the snorkelling from the beach is good if you go out far enough. The best thing about Salad is that it's empty - the beach, the few shops and pubs are always free of crowds - no elbowing to the bar through sweaty crowds of pseudo-hippies here. The Reggae bar is the place to go at night - chill out on the floor cushions, eat some cheap but delicious Thai food, grab an ice-cold Singha lager, watch the football on the TV, listen to UB40 and Bob Marley and chill your arse off - as I said, paradise.

We leave here on the night of the 19th, bound for Sungai Golok on the Thai/Malay border. From there we're off to Pulau Perhentian off the north east coast of peninsular Malaysia. It's reputedly the most beautiful island in Malaysia - including Borneo, we are certainly spoiling ourselves here.

I put this pic in as V loves it, it was the last night she kept in her plaits (is that what they're called?) they were itching her head and driving her crazy in this heat. Yesterday Maiya, the angelic little girl who lives at the family-owned bungalows we have all rented, helped V unravel the mess. Soon Mum and one of the family dogs joined in. Us lads took a night off the beer and watched DVDs in the little outside restaurant. I am loving this trip, it is just perfect.

Free at last

This is a picture of our beach at Haad Salad, Kho Phangan island. This is more like it. We left Bangkok in the evening of the 10th. The bus down the peninsular to Suratthani was slow but not too uncomfortable. But I'm glad to be free from the bustle of Bangkok.

When we pitched up just after 6am on a murky and smelly Suratthani morning our drivers and baggage handlers couldn't get rid of us quick enough at the ferry office. The reason for this treatment became crystal clear when a young Canadian couple, who were sat directly in front of us on the upper deck complained they had a lot of stuff missing from their rucksacks. Everyone began checking, a large Ko Samui-bound group of Israeli lads reported thefts and V could only find one of her trainers, which had mysteriously transferred itself in-transit from inside her ruck to be stuffed rudely into a side pocket. My large ruck was clear. the padlock probably saw the thieves off.

Theft is common from the Bangkok-to-Islands "VIP" coaches. Your bags are stored in the sleeping room/storage area beside the toilet downstairs. While we slept upstairs in the seats some little bastard(s) must have been rifling through the kit. Before that, at midnight, the DVD movie was way too loud, and when some guy asked if they could turn down the volume they left it where it was - covering the rummaging noise down below no doubt, what a shower of bastards.

The ferry operator was apologetic and offered cash to the handful of us unlucky enough to have lost stuff, but the two policemen who turned up to investigate the crime were more interested in my GPS than solving any crime, and, scratching their arses, quickly drove off uninterested in their flash air-con patrol car.

The ferry to Koh Phangan was a beautifully cool-breezed affair, we waved lazily at the junk boat fishermen in the Gulf and met new acquaintances. On Phangan we followed Simon (nice lad from the Wirral) to the most (in his much visited opinion) achingly beautiful and secluded beach on Phangan. We're in the extreme north west, farthest point away from Haad Rin and the infamous drug-fueled Full Moon Party. Saying that though, weed is easily found and offered unasked in virtually every part of this laid-back paradise.

We've got 8 lazy days here, so I'm off now to soak up the sun and perhaps snorkel, or hire a scooter to explore. Don't expect too many posts on the blog over the next few days, for obvious reasons.

Lost days in Banglamphu

We're leaving Bangkok later today for Ko Phangan in the south. To be honest I feel we've wasted a lot of our time here drinking. We haven't seen any of the tourist sights. Banglamphu is a great place to chill out and enjoy yourself, it's also too tempting to be totally hedonistic and up for a party.

We spent all day in the room yesterday recovering from another big session, I'm staying off the booze for a while now. It has been fun too, this guy on the guitar is Jimmy, as in Jimmy Hendrix. He was playing "smoke on the water" very badly on the Khao San road when we met him, I bunged him a 20 baht note anyway, he was drawing a huge crowd of laughing onlookers.

V and I ventured into a subterranean club called "Lava" and met three hard drinking German guys. They were half way through a second large bottle of Absolut vodka when we found them. This big guy was hilarious, he's about 6'4" and was dancing around a floor full of 5'0" pouting Thai dolly birds. When V asked him his name he replied "Call me Super Dancer" Thirty minutes after I took this snap of "Super Dancer," we plied him with the largest glass of Sambuca I've ever seen, and he had to be carried out of the club by his two mates, his dancing legs had turned to two plates of jelly. It was one of those nights.

So, I'm happy to be getting away to the beaches and relaxing with a good book. Bangkok is party central, but it's bloody hard work all this partying.