After a short couple of weeks in China recharging my batteries, I was on my way again in mid August. Malaysia this time and travelling solo. After all the rushing around, it was intended to be the relaxing holiday, go-with-the-flow-and-see-what-happens. A bit of culture in the main cities of Kuala Lumpur and Penang, catching up with some friends followed by a spell on the beaches of Langkawi and Pulau Dayang Bunting. The perfect way to spend two weeks on my own.
Hotels can be a little isolating for the lone tourist, so I stayed with friends and relied on airbnb instead to guarantee some human contact and guidance from locals along the way. Apart from my flight to and from KL and accommodation, I left every bit of detail to the last minute… I figured there would be trains, buses, ferries and even taxis to take me from A to B, so why worry… Not having a fixed itinerary meant I could change my plans on a whim and see where sudden impulses would lead me. It was an interesting and unexpectedly liberating experience…
Of course, not everything went swimmingly, to the contrary. In Kuala Lumpur I got stranded at a bus stop near the Forest Research Institute Malaysia (FRIM) after hiking on my own along cobra infested trails. I admit, at the time I wondered about being the only one on the path, but I had not been able to locate the visitors’ centre and assumed that a clearly signposted track would have been safe… I decided to turn back at the point where the path blended into the jungle and I had to clamber over trees and tree trunks and hoist myself up on ropes… and a suspicious rustling in the undergrowth warned me of company ahead. I was not brave enough to find out whether it was friend or foe, and retreated rapidly to the tarmacked road and other signs of civilization.
In the afternoon, I took no risks and found a guide from the centre before further exploring the forest and its waterfalls. Despite an unpleasant encounter with leeches, it was a great way to learn more about the conservation and restoration of a little area of jungle just outside the Malaysian capital. The guide dropped me off outside the centre, next to a nearby shopping centre. ‘You will easily find a taxi here,’ he argued, but every taxi driver I approached, shook his head and refused the fare. ‘Too far,’ they claimed. ‘I am not going in that direction,’ another one insisted… I plonked myself down on the bench at the bus stop, not sure how to proceed. I had yet to work out how to use taxi apps such as Uber and Grab… Conversations in broken English with the locals were not very fruitful either. It then dawned on me that if I were to change my destination to another local touristy spot nearby, Batu Caves, I might be in luck with the taxis, especially as from there I could easily catch the train…
‘No need for a taxi,’ a young man exclaimed, face beaming, ‘You can get the free bus to Batu Caves’. ‘You mean ‘free’ as in ‘I do not have to pay’????’ I queried… There is such a thing as a free bus??? As if summoned by magic, the free bus appeared within minutes and the young man immediately boarded to explain to the driver where I wanted to be dropped off. It was a long journey; the free bus clearly did not take the most direct route but I certainly saw plenty of the not-so-touristy-areas on the outskirts of Kuala Lumpur… Feeling a little nervous, I kept an eye on good old Google Maps (local SIMs and plenty of data are an absolute must these days…) to help me decide the most optimum point to get off and when I felt Batu Caves was within walking distance, I signalled to the driver that I had arrived at my destination. I took a quick peek around Batu Caves and found ‘India revisited’ with its Hindu Gods, bright yellow garlands and Southern Indian food on sale: massala dosa and parotta… before sauntering to the train station to continue my journey …
Most of my travel around Malaysia went flawlessly. Kuala Lumpur itself had an extensive and efficient public transport system consisting of monorails, commuter trains and light rail transit, as well as city buses …. with rules befitting a predominantly Muslim population. Taxi fares required some prior negotiating, but once I had figured out Uber and Grab, taxis were definitely reasonable. In Penang, when walking was not an option, they were the best way to get around . And with fares for internal flights at rock bottom prices, even flying to Langkawi and back was very affordable.
I only spent a short while on Langkawi itself, opting instead to stay a few days on the quieter, neighbouring island of Pulau Dayang, in a small airbnb establishment, Barkatt Chalets. After a hectic summer I was looking forward to peace and tranquillity, to lying in a hammock watching the ebb and flow of the sea, to being away from the hustle and bustle of tourist fare and noise. The island was home to only 200 people, mostly fishermen; a small hotel attracting mainly Malaysian visitors; and Barkatt Chalets. Airbnb reviews had been glowing, describing Shade, the owner, and his wife, not only as perfect hosts, but also as perfect cooks. I would be in for a treat… if I could get there…
Access to the island was by ‘local ferry’, a small fleet of speedboats shuttling the islanders back and forth for work or shopping. ‘Let me know when you get on the boat, I will be there to pick you up,’ Shade had promised me. ‘Just tell them you are going to Selat Barkatt, they will show you which boat to take.’ Having left the touristy beach stretch of Langkawi in the morning, I arrived at the small ferry terminal by taxi, but decided to first purchase my onward ticket for Penang to use later that week. A fellow traveller at the Sweet Monkey Backpackel Hostel, where I spent the previous night, had had her ferry trip to Langkawi delayed because tickets had sold out. ‘Better safe than sorry,’ I thought, as one of the shopkeepers in the small terminal offered to look after my suitcase whilst I trudged to the other, bigger building just down the road. ‘Don’t worry,’ she put my mind at rest, ‘if you miss the early ferry, the next one will be around 2 pm.’
Of course, by the time I returned to collect my suitcase, the local ferry was a mere speck on the horizon. With just an hour left till the next one was scheduled to leave, I sat down with the shopkeeper for a refreshing cold drink… ‘No need to wait at the pier,’ she explained. ‘ I have already spoken to the ‘captain’. He will let me know when everyone is ready to board.’ We whiled away the hour and were joined by the ‘local’ American lesbian who made it everyone’s business to know her business. With no sign of the captain or life on the jetty, we had another drink and listened to the tales of woe of being an American lesbian at sea and living on a boat. ‘Don’t worry,’ the shopkeeper kept on reassuring me, ‘the captain is probably waiting for some more people before he wants to leave…’
It was a sultry afternoon and rainy season in Malaysia.. Outside dark, menacing clouds had gathered and it did not take long for the rain to start. A trickle at first, but soon it came bucketing down. As the conversation with the shopkeeper had all but dried up, I ventured outside to keep an eye on things, just in case a ferry might make it across the water… I sat patiently, resting my feet on my suitcase, whilst the heavens opened even further.
The advantage of being a solo traveller is the ease with which you strike up random conversations with random strangers. So it was that I initiated a chat with a British couple who had recently retired to the smaller island, part-time I should add: winters in Malaysia and summers in the UK. Their presence this summer was merely due to the building works going on at their new house, stilted to keep it safe above rising and receding water levels. ‘Ah, yes,’ they explained, they had given up on the ferry service, and purchased their own boat… You could be sitting at the terminal for ages waiting for a ferry to arrive or leave… Unfortunately, as they were expecting a full load of wood to be delivered, there was no room for me in their boat to take me across…
Eventually, the downpour subsided and the captain gathered his passengers onto his boat… I sent a message to Shade to alert him that my departure was imminent and it looked as if I would make it to the island at long last… The ferry was not exactly the lap of luxury, but rather a small motorboat kitted out to take passengers. We walked down the slippery steps on the quay side and the captain helped with my suitcase, whilst I negotiated the gap between the edge of the jetty and the rim of the boat… By then I was already quite damp, so I did not care too much that the benches inside had rivulets of water streaming down the back and immediately soaked my clothes. The tarpaulin stretching over the door was clearly not that effective in keeping out the lashing rain…
Shade, being a gentleman of his word, met me at the quay side and hoisted up my far too heavy suitcase… Maybe for a trip like this, a backpack with just life’s essentials might have been more appropriate…
And if you are wondering whether getting off the island was any easier… On Friday, Shade dropped me off early, at 8 am, in time for the first ferry of the day, at about 8.30am. After a three-hour delay, watching more heavy showers before finally the sun came through, we were finally picked up. At least I only needed to catch a ferry to Penang in the afternoon; the rest of the passengers would be very, very late for work… No one worried, it was part of daily life.
Was a visit to the island of Dayang Bunting worth the endless waiting on the quayside…?? Next post…
Lieve Round The World 