CHAPTER 17 - MALAYSIA

RM 1 = US$3.76, Malaysian currency is the ringget (100 sen = RM 1)

Th 5/13/99 - Penang

The night before John, Veronica, and I arrived into Penang from Hat Yai, ending a 25 hour odyssey for me. We moved hotels from the Blue Diamond to the White House after finding small black insects crawling around across the sheets, we assumed bedbugs.

Penang is an island and the city, Georgetown, is famous for being the oldest British colonial city in Asia. Today is our first chance to explore.

We enjoyed a late American style breakfast then walked across the city to Fort Cornwallis, built by Captain Francis Light in 1786. Incredibly hot at midday, we were about the only dummies walking about in the noon sun. We talked to a fascinating 49 year old guy, the "fort keeper" named Venu. Venu had worked for the Malaysian Embassy as an interpreter and has visited all 196 countries except Israel and a small country near Saudi Arabia. As he told his many antidotes in a bit of a high voice he girlishly flung his wrists around. He traveled for twenty seven years, until four years ago, and now works taking tickets at the fort and doing local interpretation. Tomorrow he is interpreting for a young German man who was arrested for drugs. In Malaysia possession of small quantities is punishable by death. Venu's favorite city - Vaencia, Spain.

Venu talked us into a trishaw ride, we compromised and agreed to one instead of two hours. Since there were three of us we chartered two, my pedalers name was Nusuf.

We trishawed around a commercial waterfront area, stopping first at an interesting wharf area housing fishing families in a style of log house. Each meticulously clean interior, we could see through open front doors, is home to about fifty people. The exteriors were less neat, the thick harbor water beneath a putrid filth.

At the front of the wharf village sits a colorful fisherman's Hindu shrine with offerings on a table. we walked the distance along the long wooden wharf and stood to overlook the busy harbor.

Nusuf pedaled us slowly along, yelling out greetings as we went. He was especially excited to say hello to a very big and round man with long black hair. He laughed and told us that the man was a lady by night.

The streets are lined endlessly with shops in old attached buildings with worn white paint. The Chinese prevalence is very noticeable for these buildings are plastered with signs in Chinese hanging over the covered sidewalks.

We stopped at a few temples both Chinese (Confucius same as Maoist) and Hindu. In one temple that our guides called a clan temple, there were two large walls covered by donation cards with a picture of the donator(s) at top. Those pictures uncovered were of people passed away. Many had two people, a married couple, with only one photo uncovered, normally the man's, indicating most women outlive their husbands.

We stopped at the Heritage House, a pretty restored airy colonial era home, green with purple trim, high ceilings, and many high shuttered windows.

At the end of one hour we were pressured into signing on to the second hour while we stood outside a Chinese temple with incredible colorful detail on roof of figures and animals and buildings.

The rest of the day included a southern Indian lunch where rice and chicken was eaten by finger served on palm leaves, a necessary stop for a picture of Blacky and a cute rat laying with little paws facing skyward, and ending with a 630pm movie, "Matrix" staring Keanu Reeves at the round and skyline dominating Komtar Tower Complex.

Fr 5/14/99 - Penang

John, Veronica, and I unanimously agreed that a walk up Penang Hill should be on tap. It seems as though many Malaysians can speak English, much to our joy, so finding our way around Penang is pretty painless. They are also very friendly and willing to help out in our tourist ignorance and rarely badger to sell their goods and services. We found the correct bus and a short ride later and a little confusion of which trail to walk up, were on our way.

Venu had explained that we could first walk through part of the botanical gardens, and we did, beautifully manicured rolling hills of unusual trees and beds of flowers tagged with name plates. The worn trail ascended steeply over slick hard ground and tree roots. The exercise, sweat, and hard breathing has been absent recently, but welcomed. We saw very few others on the winding trail and sadly found ourselves dumped onto the auto road to the top. I much preferred walking the trail, but the road was also quiet and we soon ran into to different troops of monkeys.

From the thick of bush was an unmistakable crashing through the trees. Thirty meters off in the green two black monkeys with white faces were majestically floating down through the trees with arms spread out like skydivers in a swan dive, free falling and slowing themselves by eventually grabbing onto willowy tree branches.

A little way on a group of macaque, brown-grey with white patches on chest and short mohawks, came upon us in the road, moving just beyond and on top of a guardrail. They were peacefully curious, we stopped to stare back and discussed the babies hanging from their mom's chests. Eventually they were bored but they were also looking for handouts and so decided to push us up the road and then search for leftovers where we stood. This was very funny, since one of the small monkeys aggressively took a few running steps toward John while snarling, and John's reaction was like being threatened by a scary intercity gang member. John through his hands up, took two steps back, and said, "heeey, everything's cool!".

We passed the biggest black hard covered round centipede ever crawling across our path. Blacky was especially interested in having the creature crawl across him for a picture. The ten inch monster moved pretty quickly so a few rehearsals placing the creature on Blacky's stomach occurred before I could get a picture off.

After a one and a half hour walk, we explored the hill top housing a mosque, transmission tower, cable train, hotel, and other buildings. The sky was heavy again and I searched for a clear view for photographs of the city below. Strangely, the Penang city was lit by sun but dark clouds hung overhead from our viewpoint. To the south a six kilometer bridge said to be third longest in the world crossed to the mainland. From the restaurant's lawn we found the best view of Penang, the channel, and shipping. When the rain started we sat under a vine covered terrace, back against the building. Above in the twisted vine a snake slept, it's sharp angular head looked menacing.

We received our exercise walking up Penang Hill, and as reward chose to cable train down. The cable train is designed in Switzerland and built in Kuala Lampur, and is funky in that it is made to run down the hill's incline with passenger seats and compartment floors perpendicular to gravity, at an angle to the car itself. The ride down, filled with Malays, some were families, was twenty five minutes.

Although we took a different route back to the city from Penang Hill, the duration was inexplicably longer, taking two bus rides all over the city before reaching the city center.

I shopped around in Komtar Tower for a two hours while John and Veronica went on to the hotel. I had a small list of things to buy - sandals, hair brush, shampoo. I even considered a haircut but the going price was 28 ringgets ($7.45). I exhausted my sanity searching for reef shoes, the problem being my relatively big feet.

I kept attempting to convince myself that Lubeh Chulia (street) would be the best place and eventually walked that way, crossing the star shaped overhead pedestrian walkway. From the walkway, which we had crossed a few times already, I stopped and admired a section of three story buildings that hugged the curved road. The arced buildings stood directly on the roadside and was also plastered with signs in Chinese as other city sections.

Yes, the first place I spotted sandals that would fit was on Lebuh Chulia, and at a better price than the fancy mall too (17 ringgets). The man there, with a large brown growth with long hairs stuck on the side of his nose, spoke very poor English but insisted on an explanation of why the U.S. has been bombing Kosovo for six weeks and in particular the Chinese Embassy. An explanation, if I had had one, would have been wasted anyway in the miscommunication. I just looked sad, shook my head, and repeated "not good". This went on for a couple of minutes until I stood and he predictably changed gears to take my money. I then asked by pantomiming for a hair cutting shop and he happily said he would take me there.

Directly across the side street and one shop down was a hairdresser and haircutter. From the outside there wasn't an indication that this business cut hair, at least to an English speaking foreigner. I wondered how many travelers they may have lost as customers and when I thanked the man then went inside I was scared. Three old women sat silently in the clients chairs, one was sleeping, and they didn't look especially excited to see me. I guess I had broke into their late afternoon rest time. The shop looked reminiscent of a hair saloon back home except on a more humble scale with four barber chairs, three occupied by the resting ladies, mirrors opposite each chair, and a set of implements on the shelf below the mirrors. One women rose and managed a smile as her blood started moving. With the sandals man still seeing that we were getting on I found the price of ten ringgets ($2.66) within reason and followed my directions to sit. I really wanted to escape because, well, the place scared me - the old women, the obvious lack of western customers, probably a lack of male customers, and with it the woman's lack of associated experience. That and she was null at English. Ok, all that and I still wasn't convinced I wanted my hair to be cut. The last time was in the states, over seven months ago except for shortening the front in Los Angeles October 30th. Ya, my hair looked like hell, John had been busting me for months, and I had a few congenial comments from Megan, Rachel, Sue and others. It was damaged from the sun and salt water but it was long enough keep it back from my face and it was very lightened by the sun. Maybe I should have cut it myself like Brustic Macleod. I relented, I had the old women cut it and per norm it was cut shorter than I had hoped.

Sa 5/15/99 - Penang - Tanah Rata (Cameron Highlands)

The five hour bus trip to the Cameron Highlands which took six and a half hours initially passed through many small towns with frequent stops then followed a major highway south before turning east and upward toward the Cameron Highlands over a sharp and nasty but scenic mountain road.

The Cameron Highlands was charted by a bloke named Cameron and since the 1920's with initial influence of the British has been tea growing area. There are three major tea companies here, Boh being the largest. Seventy percent of Malaysia's tea is grown here and since Malaysians are big tea drinkers, most tea is consumed domestically. A small amount of coffee is also grown, and more recently, the Cameron Highlands have become home to producing forty percent of the nations produce. But it is the tea plantations and high altitude resorts that the Highlands are famous for. Jim Thompson, the American turned Thai silk interpreter, whose house turned museum we visited in Bangkok, went missing in the Cameron Highlands without a trace in the mid-1960's.

Arriving Cameron I was the first to make the bus door and when I looked up from my steps I was confronted by a dozen men waving lodge brochures. The Malays are not very aggressive in badgering tourists so to sort through them was without panic. With a couple of opinions and the smooth talking representative, we chose Father's Guest House and hopped on board their mini-bus.

Father's is a good quiet spot within a ten minute walk from the town center. It appears to have been a more proper resort at one time long ago, more than the simple backpacker of today. There is an old stone manor house utilized now for only a few rooms with outside access. I suppose this main house is residence for the Malay workers here. Nearby is a wooden motel style cottage where we lodged for 33 ringgets and a short walk away are a series nissan (Quonset) huts and the common facilities.

The only night spot in this quiet town was a corner restaurant and bar catering to tourists with prices to match. A Scottish duo on guitar and keyboardist entertained into the wee hours, playing not only traditional Scottish tunes but also the Proclaimers, Neil Diamond, and U2.

Su 5/16/99 - Tanah Rata (Cameron Highlands)

Exploring the Cameron Highlands is best by motorbike. It's the winding hilly roads running through the gorgeous tea plantations and other countryside that is the real draw to the area. We did out damnest to find the two elusive motorbikes in the village, each owned by a different hotel, but eventually through in the towel because of frustration. Instead, we booked onto a boxed tour of the local area and when we waited for the bus to show, we found a taxi instead allocated for the only three who signed on for the day.

That was fine with us, it was comfortable and we called the shots. Our driver was very knowledgeable and interested in telling the stories of the area. We drove north to and through the Boh North Tea Plantation, passing wonderful sculptured hills of tea plants, the rows between the bushes cut artistically like huge puzzle pieces of green. We passed bright blue worker's houses and to the plantation center itself for a short tour and lesson on harvesting and processing and the different types of teas available.

We then had a few other stops, one a small and pretty rose garden surrounding the home set on a hill of an elderly European lady Our driver walked the garden with us and had us sample the delicious flavors of the flowers, and at the end in a humble store had us tasting rose jam. The set tour next included a honey farm, a small vegetable market, and a Hindu Temple.

The true beauty of the area though is the rolling hills of tea plantations, and a secondary draw being the higher altitudes around 1500 meters and the associated cooler weather. At night we were actually cold walking around the town, but it was a welcome change to the searing heat we have found otherwise as we near the equator.

We spent the day's remainder sizing up the village, checking the main strips and it's series of restaurants, stores, and shops.

The local specialty at the Chinese restaurants here is called Steamboat and I gave it a go. The meal (12 ringgets) is advertised as having nine local vegetables and a mass of fish and meat including beef, chicken, shrimp, jellyfish, and cuttlefish. An old blue propane tank sat beside me and supplied heat to a large boiling pot of water. I stared in disbelief and dramatically gestured for help. The plain directions were "meat two minutes, fish one, vegetables less". There was a lot of food and the time management of my cooking schedule and eating could have been better, but in the end though, the mass of food was finished, with only a bit of help from John and Veronica.

When traveling certain preoccupations seem silly, but when fully involved, silliness steps aside and serious dominates. We searched the town hard for cake and ice cream and came up dry, so we instead bought three packages of cookies and two one half liter tubs of ice cream and retreated to Father's for scrabble until 1am.

Mo 5/17/99 - Tanah Rata (Cameron Highlands) - Jerantut (near Taman Negara National Park)

We were up at 7am, and off on our first bus, leaving Tanah Rata at 8:30a from the town center on a very arduous ride. The first leg on the round about route east to toward Malaysia's center took three nauseating hours down the very winding brake slamming road through thick forests before reaching a modern highway lined with massive coconut plantations.

In Tanjum Malim we left the express bus and tried to find our way to a second bus station somewhere in the town. Again we had received mixed information and after sitting and discussing our fuzzy knowledge while eating junk food, we sauntered in the hot sun across the street to a shaded bus stop filled with recently dismissed (teacher's day) students.

The girls stood out in blue and white outfits, their heads wrapped in white shawls called jelbebs. As we walked across the street one boy, the smart ass one, stood and smiled broadly to make his cohorts laugh at our expense. I smiled and said "this should be good', and gladly went in to be a made a fool of, at least in local terms. I tried to ask the way to Kuala Kubu Bharu but couldn't remember how to say it and heard light hearted chatter when I ransacked my pack for the LP. I had to point to "Kuala Kubu Bharu" and was returned with a hearty "straight, left, no right" followed by a bunch of Malay. The boy's act worked and the dozens of students listening laughed suddenly and loudly. I smiled, looked at John and Veronica, then caught a second boy smiling but slightly more serious, reiterating the directions. I asked him the same questions and between the two boys, and of course after more rounds of the spectators howling, we learned that the best move is to wait for the local bus where we were.

We stood in the front of the crowded bus filled with girls in blue and white, boys in white and black, and watched the smiling faces occasionally checking us out. All three of us had large packs on our back and daypacks marsupial like on our chests. Veronica struck a conversation with two girls. As I view the bright faces the length of the bus I decided a photograph was completely necessary so I fumbled in my day pack again. The mischievous boy was in the far back right corner, exactly where mischievous boys always sit. I turned, trying to be careful not to knock someone flying with my load and yelled, "Hey, Rocky!". I caught his attention and as he stood and raised his hands for my picture the kids cheered and laughed. I then called him "Sylvester Stallon", my strategy really worked, for he and most the bus the screamed and hollered and cheered.

We bus hoped through the day, a little different twist on the transportation hassle. From Tanah Rata we bused out of Cameron Highlands to Tanjum Malim (10.10), changed to the local bus I just made mention of (0.45), then an express bus to Kuala Kubu Bharu (1.70). There we ate lunch at the Excellent Fried Chicken and were convinced into taking a taxi to Benta (50/3=16.66) to make the next connection to Jerantut (3.30) by 6pm.

This last bus very cautiously gave way to logging trucks carrying large felled trees with occasionally enormous dimensions. Then the bus, our fifth so far and eleven hours into our trip, magically turned into a school bus when it stopped for a horde of students and subsequently needed to stop every few minutes to let the a piece of horde off at their homes. At 7:30pm we arrived the town Jerantut, leaving only a three hour boat ride to reach the park headquarters tomorrow.

Tanah Rata

Tanjum Malim (10.10)

local bus (0.45)

Kuala Kubu Bharu (1.70)

Benta (taxi, 50/3=16.66)

Jerantut (3.30)

We were dropped at Sri Emas Hotel in Jerantut (25 ringgets) which turned out to be the place for backpackers visiting Taman Negara National Park. At 8:30pm a park orientation meeting was held by two young men associated with the lodge, Kenny and Zack, who seemed pretty clued up to the way things work. We signed up for a three day, two night trek for tomorrow morning with Zack for 200 ringgets.

Tu 5/18/99.- Taman Negara National Park

Someone's alarm sounded at 6am, we were downstairs at 715am with breakfast at 730am, and on a minibus by 8:30am for the boat launch. We had the option of reaching the park via a minivan which they called a "Eco-tour" or by three hour long boat on the river.

Our long boat was also the vehicle for six Japanese. John had humorously pointed out that they all looked the same - haircut, size, all with gold rimmed glasses. Except the one with six toes. I had noticed John and Veronica whispering and giggling just after his initial observation. "Six Toes" and our comments kept us going for most of the three hour trip up river to the park entrance. He reminded us of the man in Fiji and one at the GPO in Kathmandu with six fingers on each hand.

The boat ride was fun - 35 kilometers, very relaxing and scenic. The wooden long boat contained nine comfortable sections for passengers with padded seats and seat back, sitting low and knees up, or slumbered across sideways. In the rear the driver sat on an old blue bucket car seat at forty five degrees with one hand on the Yamaha forty horsepower and eyes forward. Above was a high metal frame and aluminum covering.

The two hundred foot wide river was a light chocolate colored, filled with muddy runoff. The consistent brown across the water led to a deep lush green of trees and the highest hills were gracefully blanketed with the misty clouds of the overcast sky.

The three relaxing hours were not too long, people were comfortable and many slept. We arrived the park entrance, a confluence of two rivers, where the park headquarters and village is opposite the 'local village'. Interesting wooden floating restaurants with covered open air seating were just offshore from the village accessed by floating boardwalks.

Zack directed us to his floating restaurant of choice where we soon learned that our first night in a hide would not happen - he neglected to reserve in time. This started an argument. A hide here is an isolated elevated hut used for animal viewing, number twenty is said to be the best for game viewing, although big animals are scare in the park. It all sounded different and wonderful to me, but it wasn't to happen. Zack first offered our money back and most planned on jumping at the offer, until he then offered only half back and we all stuck with him. He said he would help John, Veronica, and I by making a reservation at hide number nine and paying for it (5 ringget each, $1.30).

After too much waiting, nine of us boarded a long boat Zack had arranged. Fortunately it was outfitted for tourists and not locals, meaning it was covered the length with an aluminum roof. The sky was lightly spitting but promised more with hard thunder. In front of me sat a Malay with a shirt reading "Taman Negara National Park, the World's Oldest Rainforest".

The ride was great again, lazy, green, running smoothly through water the color of cappuccino in the 4343 sq. kilometer park. Then the rain came hard along with wind. The roof of the long boat threatened to leave us and I jumped up to grab it only to be told to sit. Fine with me. I sat and watched others holding the roof, the rain pelted hard on the metal, and the boat slowed for the weather.

This section of river would be rafted down on the third day, and we had initially opted to skip it. I had guessed that if a long boat could motor the same stretch then rafting would be mellow and boring, but I was still curious. We ran up into some slightly exciting white water, the Yamaha raced, and the boat slowed before breaking through. Then John was nailed full chest from a chocolate wave and I laughed hard, the best excitement of the day.

In the torrential downpour Zack's strategy for the trip changed by inversing our two nights of sleeping locations and stopping mid afternoon for the night at a lodge. In the deluge we left our packs in the boat covered by a tarpaulin and walked up the green hill to the very pretty Trenggan Resort. The high single story stilted buildings are of a cool Asian style, all dark red stained wood (teak?) expect for heavy tiled roof.

We sat for hours at the restaurant porch, a harmonious extension of the building with a very decent view sixty feet above a bend and rapids in the river and watched the rain fall hard. The group went through introductions and learned a little about one another. Besides John, Veronica, and I, there were a New Zealand couple, an Indian girl from Vancouver, Canada, and a Dutch couple. Of the New Zealand couple, the women is an ex-sheep and dairy farmer, and martial arts expert. The man is an endless traveler and sometime secondary science teacher. The Dutch couple, from Rotterdam, included Yokkum, a young assistant brand manager for Protor and Gamble. Yokkum and I got on well and talked quite a bit. Depa, a 31 year old that looked and talked like 21, was born of Indian immigrants in Canada and was traveling to India for an indefinite stay

We were then treated to our rooms next door with the same great view as the restaurant, although lacking half of the beds needed. Zack and our second guide Abdullah, who I liked very much, cooked dinner of noodles and fish in the kitchen and we ate at the same afternoon tables as darkness fell. With the dark came groves of flying insects. I looked through our hut's porch and noticed the air thick with flies. Soon these flies were finding our lights and falling into my seconds. We weren't being bit, the flies were a dumb sort that bumped into us and crashed and burned into candle flames.

An hour or so after dinner we went out for a night walk with Abdullah and saw some interesting things, maybe not so exciting like leopards, tigers, and bears (which are here), but

interesting still if you stop and think about them.

We walked in a circle on trails around the lodge area and Abdullah pointed out various critters including a stick bug, the secretions of mushrooms that grow in leaves causing the leaves to glow, and the eyes of a particular spider that glow also. From a far distance with the flashlight pointing at the spider we could see a round blue white light, strange, especially when the spider is the size of a small fingernail. There was also a oddly shaped fern leaf called Leopards Paw.

We 5/19/99.- Taman Negara National Park

When I woke at eight, John was staring at the ceiling per norm, and I felt that we were having a late start. During our showering a bang came and a message that tea was ready. Zack had bread and jam out and tea made. I incredulously looked at breakfast and was disgusted that more wasn't provided for us. I tried to be calm but I couldn't resist asking Zack if this was the extent of breakfast and he confirmed so I remarked that this wouldn't carry us for the morning. He huffed and walked into the kitchen. I felt bad but the result was scrambled eggs for everyone.

Our new end goal for the day was a cave fourteen kilometers away to sleep at. The eight clients and two guides trooped along the rain forest stopping occasionally for an explanation on nature. Zack led, John and I hung at the back with Abdullah.

The walk was very different than all the others John and I have done - French Polynesia, Fiji, New Zealand, Australia, Nepal, Thailand. This was our first time in rainforest, sometimes refereed to as jungle, although I am not sure of the difference in terms.

This area has a lot of rainfall, around 3000 mm per year, more than three times what New England sees. We have seen plenty of rain since arriving Malaysia, here especially, but this is not the rainy season which occurs November through January. The difference is that we are seeing local rains caused by convection versus rain season rains that come with northeast winds from South China Sea.

The terrain was basically flat but with obstructions to slow the pace such as roots, fallen trees and bamboo - all wet, and crossing rivers was wetter still. It is a very damp place. I imagine that nature rapidly reclaims dead vegetation while plants must grow very quickly, like bamboo.

Besides spotting nature for interesting flora and fauna, our next pastime was checking for leeches. John and I have only experienced them in Australia and heard they're bad news during Nepal's rain season which we happily avoided. The rainforest is tropical with a good hot year round environment that they can thrive in. We were lucky to have the opportunity to hang with these cute little creatures although they sometimes get too frisky. Western conditioning makes us repulse them and turn squeamish but they really aren't too bad.

When a leach is relaxed, she'll appear as an innocent, small, and somewhat squat brown worm. But a leech's body is very flexible and can move with incredible speed for it's size, extending the head end then following with the rear landing close by so the middle is bent high in the air. When a leech is in hurried search for a warm blooded body, she sits on her fatter sucker and contorts the body thinly, flailing the head end spastically about.

When you find them crawling up your boot or sock a finger flick will knock them off and if one finds skin and sinks her teeth in then within a handful of slippery yanks she normally comes off.

We were privy to see how salt works and found this very exciting. A fellow trekker had one slurping on his calf and with a little salt it let go, curled into a ball, and slid in a thick trail of blood down his leg. There is a toxic spray the guides use for the clients called Baygone that seems to work great when sprayed to boots and socks.

I found good humor in flicking a leech from my shoe, sock, or leg onto the ground and watching the pissed off parasite sit up on the sucker, contort the body upward to flail around and search for warm blood and say, "Where did he go?". Like the very short film, "Bambi Meets Godzilla", I would sometime come down hard with the heel of my boot, smooshing the brown rubbery pest into the earth.

Walking along the trail a leech would appear as a small stick moving on the ground ahead. They can sense you coming, crawl quickly to the trail center, and again flail about looking for your warm body, but attaching only occurs when a hiker is moving very slowly or stopped.

We had left the camp at 9:30am, and stopped for lunch near 1pm beside a shallow river, fairly clear, and nearly void of leeches. We spread out on tarps and ate bread with flavored canned tuna. Zack searched for a vine and crossed the river like Tarzan which was about the only thing I found amusing about the bumbling guide. Later John also had a go.

Along the trail the large group stopped and we were pointed to shallow round marks in the wet ground - elephant tracks we were told. I had read in a good picture book of the park that there were 150 elephant and that the park covered more than 4000 square kilometers, so the distribution seemed to me that we would never see spoor or sign of an elephant. Then we passed the elephant dung and I was proven wrong.

Other interesting park animals include the sun bear, the world's smallest bear, the two horned rhino, leopard, tiger, and tarpir. We saw leeches.

We trounced on to see our first cave, Gua (cave) Kepayang Kecil, now eight kilometers from our previous nights lodging. The limestone cave had easy access immediately into a large cavern. Near the center was a fifteen foot wide and thirty foot high stalagmite reaching to a still large, but half the size stalactite. At one end of the cavern was a rough shaped but large opening that helped shed light throughout so seeing was not a problem. The voluminous cavern and this limestone structure was very impressive and we each wandered about exploring. Zach, in heavily accented English, pointed at elephant prints and explained that the elephant were too large to fit through our cave access and instead used the other large opening, but I wondered why elephant would come here at all.

While I was walking in the rear of the group Abdullah talked about the aboriginal living here, the Orang Asli. They are semi-nomadic, spending two months in one place before moving on. They hunt and gather and find rattan branches to sell for commodity items. Most interesting of Abdullah's story was how they treated death. If a person died while in their camp, they erected a platform for the body and left it when the tribe moved on. However, if a person was dying, the tribe chief would determine when they were within a week of death and hole would be made to bury the dying to the chest. Food was left also and a knife that could be used against wild animals.

The trekking group came to a second cave, Gua Kepayng Besar. The entrance was up a slippery tree branch into the mouth. The opening and inside of the cave was moist and slick and smelly from mass bat dung. We slowly and cautiously ventured upward, deeper into the cave to a cavern filled with thousands of beating bats in their sporadic flight. Small wet splotches fell from bats as they flew overhead onto our shoulders and heads, but not so much to make as take flight. I stared up into the dim light and caught fleeting bits and shadows of the bats, there was an amazing number circling the chamber, wings pumping the air, voices squealing.

The third cave, Gau Luas, was our home for the night. I looked at the opening and wondered how we would sleep inside. I assumed the floor to be covered with smelly bat dung, and I thought of the story we heard in Australia of a girl bit by bat who later died, but instead of entering the cave we set up outside the cave. Curiously, I believe not one of us ventured inside the cave for a look. Our camp situation was very, very nice. We were on a platform about fifty above the forest floor that we reached after scaling a secondary path through trees and up rock. A high and broad limestone wall above the cave mouth angled outward providing cover from rain.

We milled about for an hour before eating. John and I took the invitation of bathing in a river below our camp sight, the guides had said it was clear, and we couldn't resist washing the grim and mud off. The small river was twenty feet across and with decent flow. The water was only slightly milky but otherwise clear and very inviting. As I looked and wondered of the water thoughtfully, I remembered a story of a worm that swims into the pee tube to cause havoc, maybe it lives in Vietnam or Africa, I couldn't but worry a bit. Half from worry and half as a joke I grabbed onto my buddy and jumped in for a skinny, relishing the cool swirling sensation of the waist deep water. In explaining to John who was still preparing himself for the swim of the pee worm, I had to jump from the water to prove my preventative measures. He laughed at me and asked about my other orifices and how they may be effected, so I gave into his reasoning and lost the worrisome thoughts to really enjoy our swim.

The troop of clients laid down in a long row on tarpaulins at 9pm under the best cover while our two guides laid just outside the protection. Rain started shortly afterward, but we were only misted on. As we laid and looked upward, we were privileged to enjoy magnificent lightening bursting beyond the forest trees, silhouetting the tree branches and leaves crisply. Rain splattered on trees and thunder occasionally boomed. I was beside Yokkum, the young guy from Holland, and we talked lightly of the Dutch and their country for a long while until we were all quiet, watching the lightening and profiles of trees before sleep.

Th 5/20/99 - Taman Negara National Park

There rainforest is a fun, noisy place. In particular a couple of sounds stand out. Everyone had heard the standard buzz of forest, the metallic hum sometimes so loud it's ear shattering. When I was with Sue in Rai Leh our cabin was so loud I have to believe I have never heard such a volume. Here that forest buzz was every present, I also recognized the sound from home, but never knew the insect was called a cicada. The other incredible, although very different forest noise reminds me of a simple type of toy flute from childhood. It is blown into at the top and from the base a handle pulled a plunger through the tube to alter pitch. The gaboon monkey makes a similar noise, very distinctive and curious. The hooping sound of the hornbill also stands out.

From the cave our trekking brought us back to a point on the river an hour and a half away.

Along our way Abdullah pointed out a very interesting tree with long scars from knife slashes since healed. The aboriginal bleed sap from the tree, frothy white then boiled it to black to make poisons for their hunting blow pipes.

From the river we rode a long boat back to Kuala Trenggan Resort where bungling Zack and Abdullah continued on with the group and left us to walk. That move was to save us 50 ringgets rather than rafting although as they left I learned that they would not be rafting after all, instead continuing on by long boat, another deviation to Zack's original plans.

Now we were just three, John, Veronica, and I. We sat for lunch and while admiring this same spot again decided to stay on for the night. Part of the decision was based on having the cost lowered. We nervously talked the price down from 80 to 60 ringget, and I wondered where the money would go since we were in a large resort lodge. After just a short trek, I then napped for a couple hours to help recover from broken sleep the previous night, and enjoyed a thoroughly relaxing day at this wonderful spot.

For dinner we ate our rations purchased in anticipation of roughing it while in the park. We sat on porch in large comfortable wooden chairs, similar to Adirondak chairs, and talked for hours. I laid to read at 9pm and listened to rain crashing down an hour later, then lightening, thunder, and it was great. Rain fell through the night but stopped by breakfast time.

Fr 5/21/99 - Taman Negara National Park

The trio was up early at 730. My breakfast was comical and frustrating for I ordered eggs that never appeared. Because of the communication difficulties and the uncertainty of prices, I simply waited and the others laughed as time went on.

At 930am we headed out for our 12.5k forest hike to the park entrance.

From Trenggan we chose what was said to be the best high hike instead of following the river path. Again at Trenggan we had conflicting information about the shorter of the two choices in time and distance. But we were off, Malaysian trekking on our own, no guides to show us routes around obstructions including wasp nests, only occasional signs were our guide.

One hour into trip we came upon the river our fearless guide Zack mentioned we would need to cross, explaining that the water would be waist high. His description was underestimated. This crossing was a logistic challenge, a required effort borne from stubborn resistance in accepting a defeat and backtracking to Trenggan and then along the river to Kuala Tahan. It was to be our highlight while in the rainforest of Taman Negara.

We stood at the water's edge and picked leeches from our boots and analyze the situation.

The river was swollen, seventy feet in width. Although we had not seen this crossing before, trees and bush deep in the water showed the river high. It ran along thickly, a mud colored torrent, sometimes sweeping along with it tree branches and various sized logs. Wading across appeared impossible.

From other trekkers we had passed earlier we were told a tree had fallen near the trail that made the crossing easy, but John's inspection neglected this prospect. He walked over the sweeping water on a huge tree from the trunk to small branches that fell twenty five feet short of the far side

Our only option was slightly upstream, a heavy long green rope that made the brown expanse. The rope was four feet above the water and wrapped to trees then tied off in rudimentary knots to smaller secondary trees. If we were to make the crossing, this rope was our only hope.

At stake were our packs and belongings - cameras, handheld computers, clothing, and other accessories. I knew from recent past experience that a camera wrapped in a few plastic bags could not be submersed successfully. Water would find it's way by the layers through small holes and imperfect seals.

The large tree was a hundred feet or more downstream and being swept into it spun my mind - feet first would be the preferred strategy for that uncertain eventuality. I looked at the thick river and also wondered about water borne hazards, but we weren't within indigenous population, the river flowed within parkland and from mountains, and we heard no warnings of microscopic concerns although financial welfare often over shadows health issues in developing nations.

Because of our potential loss we were cautious, we decided to first make test runs across the rope empty. I volunteered, stripped my shoes and shirt off, and excitedly led my body into the flow hand over hand on the rope. Immediately we confirmed that wading across was impossible, the river dragged my legs and trunk with it which caused the rope to arch downstream and to reach to the water. The force was strong against my torso and I said an "oh, oh" when my shorts started for my knees because I neglected to tie them the waist string. I spread my legs to create more resistance for my pants and continued hand over hand into the middle of the rush as part of our first experiment. Without being able to touch bottom, we were never able to note the river depth.

John and I talked strategy when I returned to shore while Veronica stood to the side but helped with occasional suggestions. We raised the rope on our side, I tied my shorts, and I was off again hand over hand, my body surfing the current at a feet first angle.

On the far side the rope was wrapped around a tree that stood angled toward the river center in current and water too deep to stand. The rope was then tie off to another tree closer to shore but in water waist deep with less current. I untied the rope then jumped across the water to reach the angled tree. I forced myself to the upstream side, straddled onto the lower trunk and dragged myself up by pushing both hands between my legs and shimmying along the rough bark that scoured my thighs. I was shocked at the lack of upper body strength, power lost with my weight during the vacation. This exercise should have been a cinch, instead of grace, I scraped my legs along.

I re-wrapped the rope, had difficulty drawing tension because of my awkward position on the tree, then fell carefully into the water and made my way to tie the rope off. We also discovered that any communication across the river was extremely difficult, the expanse over the rushing river too great to hear even yelling.

I had made a couple more trips across before we were happy enough with the rope height and our strategy to attempt dragging a bag across. On one return trip I missed a hand hold and fell of the rope and into the force. We were all nervous while I stroked hard for the shore but the current dropped quickly as I neared and I made the shore before reaching the large tree that laid draped across the river.

We fashioned a draw line for the packs using excess rope from the coconut and washer repair job of my big pack, from ten meters of clothes line I had purchased in Jerentut, using a piece of fibrous plastic string Veronica found near the trail, and even adding a ten foot piece of vine.

John was now the master of ceremony, making his way to the far side with the line tied to his wrist, and we were relieved to see that our makeshift line made the distance. Once there he carefully took the tension from the drawline created by dragging in the river, then slowly drew Veronica's small daypack across clipped onto the rope with a caribiner he carried. As the bag slid toward the center the rope arced and the bag dropped precariously toward the water. We all watched wide eyed and yelled enthusiastically for the pack to stay above the water. The pack made the crossing unscathed. On the far side John had to shimmy up the leaning tree, unhook the pack, then re-hooked it on the second piece of rope, descend the tree, slide the pack across, unhook it, and throw it up on the steep bank. All this was quite a bit of effort that would eventually exhaust him.

We carried on like this with John's small pack which also made the crossing dry, but when he returned with the drawline, he lost it in tree branches, it broke and was taken downstream. Ugh! We had had a workable method, two packs across, half our kit on each side, and now we were stuck. We looked around for another solution, perhaps tying more vines together, then Veronica found more fibrous plastic line, long enough for our purpose.

My belongings were more difficult to deal with. I had my large pack, itself alone would nearly meet the design weight of the rope and it's arch. I also carried a pile of camera equipment, my handheld, clothes, and also some food for the troop of three. I took most of items out and sent the big pack over with John. It also went over without issue, and I was slowly gaining more confidence in our system as I thought about preparations to send my camera and computer across. We choose Veronica's pack to carry the rest of my belongings because it was lightest. John was tiring from clinging to the crossing rope, his hands were callused, and asked for reprieve. We had been going at our task for a couple of hours already.

I jumped in and drew the pack with my clothes and toiletries. Back across again for the last load - my cameras and computer. I packed it up in whatever plastic I had, tied the pack straps around itself, and as I reached to clip the pack onto the crossing rope, it slipped from my hands and plunked into the water. In panic I told Veronica to pick it quickly from the water, I grabbed it, and opened it to remove and checked each item. Of all the bags, and even with our gained experience, it was the last bag with the most at risk that I dropped. Maybe I was tiring also. I grabbed everything out to check it. Still dry. I shook from adrenaline that Veronica even noticed, repacked the bag, and started again. I made the other side, climbed up the rough tree again, re-clipped my bag on the second line, crawled off the tree, unclipped my bag, and tossed the last load onshore.

Then I heard screaming across the river from my comrades, "What the hell was that! It's a crocodile!" I was laughing hard - a lizard had sped pass them lost in the raging river and they were a little overly excited. I chuckled harder when I thought - I was across and they weren't, they now had to cross a reptile infested river, and I gladly told them that!

John and then Veronica transversed the rope. I was curious at how Veronica would find it, she did fine, and even when she reached the first tree she declined help to make the second line around the tree.

We were surprised when checking our watches that three hours had passed for this endeavor because time had passed so quickly. We were happy with ourselves and our success and laughed and joked about the adventure as we fixed our packs and continued trekking.

We continued on over trails more hilly that the last couple of days but with the same obstacles of slippery roots and rocks, and downed trees. Additionally we found much more mud that needed tip toeing around and when shallow took all purchase from forward steps, like driving a car with bald tires in snow. We were unanimous in exclaiming that the trekking became harder and more frustrating.

The time was getting late, we still had hours ahead, but still looked forward to our original goal for the day and the promise of a clear river with a great swimming hole whose source is the highest mountain in Malaysia, Gunung Tahamn (2187m). Maybe we were victims again of abnormal amounts of rain for when we finally reached the Tahan River, after six long hours, we discouragingly found another mud colored river.

The trail then ran 1.5k along the river, straight for park headquarters at Kuala Tahan, still filled with extremely slippery red mud, rope aided hills, tree roots, and so on. Here there were a few bridges which our feet and patience were thankful for. Now my stomach was turning circles, not having eaten but a bit of toast in the morning and a couple of bad Malaysian wafer bars. Our immediate goal now was to find food ASAP.

We made park headquarters and the park village in less than one hour from reaching the Tahan River, not stopping for a look around, but instead heading for the short 50 ringget taxi ride across the river for food is considerably cheaper at the local village.

We were dropped at a hill ramp with access to the local village and behind us fifty feet off shore were the four floating restaurants, one of which we visited upon arrival at the park. Something was drastically different, not right, not fair. After spending seven hours forging rivers, clambering over large trees, crawling under hanging trees, negotiating thousands of roots and rocks and huge puddles of mud, we thought we were done with it all, We had even decided to forego another day in the park and visiting the canopy walkway having had enough adventure. Now we stared at the restaurants and saw that the plankways to them had wash away. My stomach twisted, maybe I moaned, no, I am sure I moaned. We walked back and forth along the river shore like cats, trying to find the object of our desire without getting wet - again. It wasn't to happen so we trudged once more through mud water, feeling our way slowly over hidden rocky bottom to the closest restaurant. We sat at a corner table over looking the river and park village boat ramp and pounced on the 30 ringget doughnuts in an orange plastic bowl at the table center while waiting for our order to arrive.

After sweet and sour beef with rice, we again crossed the water, walked up through the village to a lodge at top and with fanfare took beds in the dormitory. We quickly found that there was one shower without a shower head or extending pipe, just a hole in the wall. There was also an eastern toilet and no sink. However, with out little jaunt up the hill we were able to see a small part of the local village of five hundred people. Kids in colorful clothing were playing between stilted gray weathered buildings, a very cute contrasting scene.

We all showered and laid about reading, John and Veronica sharing a Danielle Steel book ripped in half. I continued on the another Wilbur Smith, "Eye of the Tiger". It was near 7pm when flashes of lightening started. Following the trick of counting seconds between lightening and thunder to tell whether a storm is coming or going, I found that it was approaching. It had also started raining when I first counted seven seconds, then four, and during the splitting thunder, two seconds. Then the electricity went out for the first time. Damn. We wondered how long we would lay in darkness but within a minute that lights and fans were on again.

Of course our only option for the night's entertainment was another dinner. We waited for the storm to settle a bit, but that didn't happen. In absolutely dousing rain we wandered the village for an open restaurant, giggling at our sopping situation. The spot we found was great, the covering sufficient, the view of lightening illuminating the river and buildings on the far side wonderful, food good, and of course the company excellent. Sitting in a spot such as this in nasty weather is unusual and thoroughly enjoyable.

Sa 5/22/99 - Taman Negara National Park to Jerantut

There were a handful of different opinions as to where and when our long boat to Jerantut left from. After a hard nerve racking search and another broken strap on my thongs we found the ferry launch point.

We booked in again to the Sri Emas Hotel in Jerantut, into a very small two bed without windows. We walked Veronica around to the bus station where she arranged for transportation to Kuala Lumpur (KL). John had been traveling with Veronica since one month ago, that's a long time, and I chummed with the two of them for the last ten days. It was sad to see a companion traveler leave, but everyone does not follow the same route when traveling, and now John and I would get the chance to travel duo again. Veronica was to spend a couple days in KL, head to Bangkok for a one week Thai cooking course, then meet a friend in Hong Kong and explore employment possibilities there.

John and I walked a good part of central Jerantut. I asked the opinion of two pharmacists concerning a large rash on my right thigh, both suggested a fungus. I purchased tables and cream and hoped for quick recovery from the itchiness.

We hit KFC where other Europeans types also were, then ice cream per norm, and so on. At the Sri Emas we learned of an English theater with Indonesian and Chinese subtitles a fifteen minute walk away. "Urban Legends" was playing, and although I do not care for horror movies, I agreed for simply something to do and because John is very into any movie. We sat in the dirty older theater with the all locals and I actually half enjoyed the movie, it's nice to get to the big screen occasionally.

Su 5/23/99 - Jerantut to Perhentian Islands

From Taman Negara we elected to continue northeast to the Perhentian Islands. At 3am a wakeup call came to our little hot box, we quickly gathered ourselves, and joined a handful of others in the courtesy van for a very short ride to the train station behind the hotel. The 4am train showed at 430am, at 730am we made Kuala Krai, 45 minutes later Machang by bus, and 30 minutes afterward Pasir Puteh also by bus. In Pasir Puteh we ate our first meal at 10am, booked a ferry for Perhentian Kecil (Small Perhentian), and were off to Long Beach on Kecil.

The two hour ferry ride (40 ringget) was on a typical small forty foot wooden boat whose trim was painted brightly but whose paint work was rough by weather and rust. As we made our approach to the two islands, I was very impressed upon seeing Perhentian Besar (Big Pehentian) to our south, a green hilly island of palms rimmed with sandy beaches. The sun was pouring down between broken cumulus making the green and sand and blue of the water bold and bright. To the north was Kecil and we motored the channel between the two, to the west of Kecil then north past a large fishing village and a mass of colorful fishing boats moored offshore, then on to Long Beach. The whole scene was really pretty and I was happy that we chose this spot.

Before reaching Long Beach we were spurned off onto a smaller boat that could make the beach where the ferry couldn't, it cost us only a small amount but we weren't happy since we had originally purchased a ferry ticket to Long Beach. We were put ashore and searched the beach for a room. Long Beach is a straight beach within a U-shaped harbor. Just beyond the bright sandy beach are palms extending across the island, at the tree line are restaurants, and within the palms is the lodging. Although the beach appeared vacant the lodges were full and we took a simple thatched cottage at Matahara Chalets.

In exploring the beach I met an English girl named Nicole who is a dive master at Seahorse Diving. She explained their PADI Advanced dive course package and more importantly spoke of a seafood buffet somewhere on the beach. I half decided to go for the course (550 ringget, one free dive) and fully decided under John's encouragement.

We didn't especially care for our lodgings, and following a lead went to Moonlight Chalets to badger the help for a room there. We had dinner at the clean and open restaurant, then slyly jumped ahead of two girls we met waiting to sign for a room tomorrow when we heard of the opportunity.

Mo 5/24/99 - Perhentian Kecil

We moved our packs to Moonlight and I ventured to Seahorse Diving for the advanced course. The PADI course consists of five dives, two required - deep dive and navigation dive, then three electives - I chose the naturalist, wreck, and night dives.

There is also a Knowledge Review associated with each dive where you read a few chapters and answer questions at the end. I talked with Dray about the course. He's from Holland, like many travelers here, and has spent years away from home instructing. Dutch, English, German, French, Malay - he is great with languages and has the exact personality that makes him successful at mixing business and people - he's interesting, interested, always a big smile and quick wit, a very comforting personality that draws people quickly in.

The deep dive of twenty meters today was off a pinnacle to the ocean floor called Tokong Laut. The boat ride out was fun. We sped out of Long Beach bay to around the east side of Kecil and to the north. In the distance, a few large upright rock cropping sprung through the surface, but the pinnacle was small on the water and widened as it extended below. Dray led the dive. The dive itself was only exciting because I was in the water once again under equipment allowing to breath artificially for forty minutes like a fish. I didn't find the site terribly interesting, the pinnacle was good, but the sun was hidden behind clouds and fish and coral didn't proliferate. The depth wasn't especially interesting either, John and I had been to 140 feet in Grand Cayman, a sort of let's explore nitrogen narcosis dive, but that another story. John also joined us on this dive and a couple of others.

The afternoon followed with the navigational dive at Batu Nissan, just off Long Beach. We went through four exercises then explored for a bit. The first exercise was to record the number of fin flips over a thirty meter length, the second for natural navigation, simply following the coral line along the coast back and forth for thirty meters. The third exercise was using a compass to travel away from the coast and back while counting thirty meters out by fin flips, and lastly the forth exercise had us swimming in a b shape, thirty meters a side.

At five o'clock a Dutch guy and I were alone on the naturalist's dive. The site, Tg Basi, was also just off Long Beach but to the south. Not only was the sun obscured by clouds and not lighting the undersea world, but now it was low in the sky also, and so I was getting irritated by not having a good dive with good visibility. Regardless, the area was void of wild life and striking coral. Before setting out, Dray thumbed through a book of fish and pointed out a couple dozen we would probably see. He wrote the names in pencil in a grid on a underwater board. During the dive we saw most of them, and a lot of others not on his board. This makes me wonder why I say there isn't much life here. I guess what is missing are the large schools of brightly colored fish and the lack of good coral. The is also a requirement for lighting and brightening the world underwater.

When I later explained to a Dutch girl about the course and in particular of the naturalist dive, she responded, "Ah, you go diving naked?".

This was our second night at Long Beach and that was long enough for John and I to wait before hitting the open seafood buffet at Moshu Restaurant for 13 ringgets ($3.46). We pigged on chicken and beef satay, grilled shark, soup, salad, and more and more.

Tu 5/25/99 - Perhentian Kecil

On Vietnam Reef to the west of Kecil sits a iron refugee boat that sunk about twenty seven years ago. When the North Vietnamese were running over the South after the pullout of American troops, many South Vietnamese fled to the neighboring countries. This boat went down in a storm, all on board survived.

The boat sits upside down in fifteen meters of water in silt so the visibility is notoriously bad but Dray exclaimed his appreciation for the technically challenging site - poor vis, current, penetration dive. I would have preferred vis and a mass of fish, but hell, at least I was getting my advanced.

We followed a mooring line to the stern passing a few fish and then down to the ocean floor in raised silt and poor visibility. We swam along the rusting and crusted hull to an opening just big enough for a large diver and low enough that the sharp crustaceans on the floor are of concern. The penetration dive exited quickly through a wide hole through the far side of the hull which also allowed plenty of light in. We then ascended to the top of the wreck, which was the bottom of the boat, the silt level dropped, sunlight was stronger, and visibility increased. I could see the light color of barnacles and coral growing on the hull and we then passed by square portholes.

I spent the rest of the afternoon doing knowledge reviews, then my fifth and last qualification dive was at night at Batu Nissan. A night dive is fun if just for the eeriness let alone the different life seen below. A handful dove, Dray again the dive master. We saw a small nurse shark, crabs, and for the first time I noticed sea cucumbers, half animal and vegetable, moving about. This didn't excite Dray but I was captivated by the long white suckers sticking from the ugly long black bodies, I have to say they are a bit gross.

Back at the Seahorse Dray and I finalized PADI forms and I was now an Advanced Diver, most importantly meaning I am qualified to dive to 100 feet, possibly important if an outfit requires the certificate on a packaged dive.

We 5/26/99 - Perhentian Kecil Island

I hung at the Moonlight, sitting at a table overlooking the beach under cloud cover again and continuing my mad attempt to catch up in this journal. At 3pm I went out for my free dive with Nicole and John tagged along. Underwater there was current so strong that I consciously tried to calmly move along to conserve air,. Nicole led us in circles and later confessed she was lost, not a great dive, again. In the current I had used air quickly and I was the first to signal out of air, the signal being a fist to the chest, and we rose on the boats mooring line, the dive twenty minutes shorter than expected.

We again hit the buffet for dinner and again ran into two girls, Marcy and Peppa, from Toronto and England, who were on a two week vacation from English teaching jobs in Japan. I first talked to them in Jerantut near Taman Negara and bumped into them a couple of times here at Long Beach. They sat and watched us pig out, then Marcy fell into the buffet too. It was another slaughter of bbq beef and lamb, grilled shark, curry chicken, and so on. The location was pretty good too. Although a roof covered our heads, the rest of the restaurant was very open and being on a hill provided a nice overview of the water through the palms.

Th 5/27/99 - Perhentian Kecil Island to Kota Bharu to Kuala Lumpur

After four days at Long Beach, we had had an okay time diving and simply hanging, but it was time to move on. From the northeast Malaysian peninsula we were heading to the southwest, to Kuala Lumpur (KL).

An 8am small boat taxi (2 ringget) brought us just offshore to our return ferry (20 ringget) for a two hour ride to Kuala Bensur. We somehow managed a very sane minibus ride (6 ringget) to Kota Bharu. The driver startled me by slowing for pedestrians and children playing near the road, cautiously passing others, and I believe he used is turn signal often. In Kota Bharu we left packs at KB Hostel very near our drop-off spot. John and I spent the afternoon walking the town. We secured bus tickets for KL although we wanted the overnight train, called the Jungle Train, but it was filled for days during this two week school vacation period. We hit Pizza Hut, email, the Central Market, hung by the big river and watched water pumping platforms connected to large piping sound away. Upstairs in McDonald's is McEmail, both spots entertained me for a bit.

From the KB Hostel we taxied to Jalan Hamzah bus station for the overnight bus ride.

The ride started out good, the bus wasn't full. After talking with a young man from Kota Bhura who now works in KL in the cleaning staff of a big hotel ("one of the seven wonders of Malaysia"), I became more tired from straining and sorting through his poor English, and jumped across to two empty adjacent seats with another empty set in front - four seats for Bob. I reclined the chair, slouched, and through my legs over the seat back in front of me. It was an awkward position, but comfortable enough for sleep and the best I would do on that bus.

I woke to a group of men who had boarded and strained to make out the seat numbers. I was occupying their seat and moved forward one where I stayed for the night.

As luck would have it the bus was full by the time I realized this seat was broken and would only stay at a semi-reclining position. For the rest of the night my ass slid forward, having nowhere to place my feet to support myself in the seat. I rolled around the night long, waking to aching shoulders and neck and buttocks. I noticed the bus changing tempo, being driven erratically, and later came fully awake to find the bus nearly empty around 5am. Later John told me they had rushed for a Muslim call to pray.

Fr 5/28/99 Kuala Lumpur (KL)

The bus arrived the metropolis of Kuala Lumpur at 730a, a 11.5 hour ride. I nearly crawled from the bus because my butt hurt from the broken seat. We had landed at a bus station north of the city, and didn't want to deal with a pirate taxi man who chased away legal taxis in Malay, so we took the short train hop and then walked through Chinatown to the eight room hotel recommended in the LP called Odyssey (20 ringget). Our room was especially small, bunkbeds, fan, and clean with white walls. From what I read most rooms in KL are small, and since this hotel was very clean and seemingly inexpensive, we didn't bother shopping around. We learned to enjoy our clean little hotbox for the duration of KL.

We fetched Marcy and Peppa at their posh 50 ringget a night hotel (toilet, shower, TV, phone, clean walls) in the middle of the jam packed Night Market filled with clothing and produce and junk but notably containing a large quantity of pirated software and VCD movies for little money.

At the girls room I first noticed that I felt funky, a low fever, and asked for aspirin. Later I fell into body aches and a headache and was at the start of a long virus of some sort. Damn.

Kuala Lumpur is home to the tallest building in the world, the Petronas Towers, and that excited me. I had looked up websites on the subject months previously, well before I had an idea I would visit KL. When Yo, our good hotel owner, spoke of a theater in the Petronas, I found that a great excuse to visit the building. The four of us discussed at length which movie to see, I wanted to see the building really, and when Pepa would only agree to "Shakespeare in Love", I sided with her against John's wishes really to see Petronas.

The four of us taxi-ed to Petronis Towers, the tallest building in the world. Hey, it is art deco, I would have never guessed. It was nighttime and the glowing building didn't look real, it was out of Batman set, surreal, like someone had painted this giant on the sky. Maybe it appear unreal because of the shiny stainless art deco style and because the upper reaches blurred in the increasing mist. We were early for the movie so we walked back to the Golden Triangle, Malaysia's business center, surrounded by other wonderful skyscrapers. Only Marcy shared my excitement for the these magnificent manmade city structures. We ate Japanese, then returned for the movie.

We passed by one great silver tower than the next, both connected by a very high bridged walkway. The inside of Petronas is a very open oval design, you can see six floors up through the oval. It's very much a mall with fancy national and international retail and relatively expensive dining.

The movie theater was packed, we had assigned seats, and the movie was okay actually. "Shakespeare In Love" had violence and more than hinted of sex as required by Hollywood, but the sets and costumes were foremost in my mind.

Sa 5/29 - Kuala Lumur

I was sick. I slept until 130p, only venturing as far as the store downstairs to buy bread for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then managed email one floor down from our room. With the thermometer Sue and I purchase from the nurse in Rai Leh, I read 101, and on the second attempt later on I shook it down and brushed my other hand and broke it. Damn.

I finally left the hotel with John early evening to meet Marcy and Peppa for dinner at a Southern and Muslim Indian restaurant very near Little India called Bilba.

Su 5/30 - Kuala Lumpur

I slept hard until 930am, managed email and finally received one from Lauri Medina who we had met on an Everest bid.

------- Lauri's email forwarded to me --------

Date: Sat, 29 May 1999 21:54:21 PDT

From: lauri

Subject: Re: Where are you???

To: wag

Dear Wag, Sorry for the long lag in communication but I've kind of been

everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Round about the first part of May

we went for our summitt push same night as Pete Athans and co. It was truly

an awesome night and climb we were the first group on the mountain and I was

feeling as goodas one can at those altitudes. I was climbing behind Pete

and Bill Crouse two Coloradoans and my buddy on the trip Elsa Carsolio from

Mexico. Pete and Bill were in the lead fixing and I had just caught Elsa at

the South Sumitt 8750m and was coming around the corner of the south summit

when I stepped a foot too far to the right and broke off a cornice and

tumbled into Tibet! I'm the luckiest woman around as I was miraculously

stopped by a ledge around 10m down and Bill had seen me fall!! I was able to

be retrieved so to speak with some rope and the help of my friends!! I

scratched my hand and didn't even lose my headlamp doing my flip! After

being hauled out I went on for a few more meters towards the Hilary step but

was just too exhausted and shook up to go on and more importantly come down

safely so I turrned around about 90 m from the top and got my tail down.

I'm happy and alive although I admit to being disappointed at not actually

summitting. I hung around hoping to have asecond go at it but weather and

logistics conspired against it so mid/late May I tried to head on out of the

Khumbu...but again monsoon like weather kept planes from flying out of Lukla

and we sat there for 7 days until we finally resigned ourselves to walking

out to Jiri and got to Kdu yesterday 4am!!! Hoping to catch that big bird

home day after tomorrow and plan on being at work next mon. Lots more

details to the adventures but we'll do those over beers. Lots of love to all

can't wait to see everyone, people's messages did get thru and I can't even

beginto tell you how much that means Lauri

------- Lauri's email forwarded to me, end --------

Although I still didn't feel well, I didn't want to waste valuable vacation time so I walked around with my head blurry taking pictures of the great buildings of KL I was really into this little photo essay and exercise, unfortunately the sky wasn't cooperating - clouds for white background, yek! But walking around was fun - give me film, a camera, and a good subject and I'm in heaven. John joined the Marcy and Pepa in visiting the Batu Caves and I appreciated the time alone.

Our last night in KL, the foursome trooped in circles to find a colonial steak house recommended by LP, the Coliseum Hotel, which as authentically scungy but the comparatively high priced steak was okay. We said goodbye to the girls and made plans to meet them in Singapore.

Mo 5/31/99 - Kuala Lumpur to Singapore

Exchange rate, US$1 = Singapore $1.71

A short walk from Odyssey, the bus station sits under a building, and was packed with a few dozen stinky buses. We stood in the noise and exhaust and wondered if our tickets were okay, not that we had cause for suspicion, but with any language difficulties and seemingly unusual routine you have to wonder. The bus showed on time at 11:30am and both John and I were absolutely amazed and in heaven.

We walked onto a 24 seat luxury coach - most buses have forty seats. The seats were two and one across, very wide with exceptional space between the rows. The ceiling and overhead luggage boxes had gaudy bright floral Phyllis Diller wallpaper, hey, wow, we were in high luxury! Then we were in heaven when four cute little Singaporean girls came aboard and sat opposite John.

The ride was obviously comfortable and pleasant, our wide seats reclined. I nearly came to the end of the "The Essential Hemingway" that Jordan had given John way back on the Annapurna Trek in Nepal. Every story seemed to be of a man meeting his maker, a bit repetitive.

Our bus dropped us at 615pm onto Beach Road where John and I tried to remember whether Marcy said to stay on Beach or not. It seemed too easy that we would be dropped where we wanted to be, and it looked way too nice, so we hoofed our kit and lanky selves a distance away to Bencoolen Street and saw a set of disgusting and comparatively expensive hotels for our travels. Singapore is the most well off Asian city, the most expensive too. Except for Bencoolen, we were to find the downtown area very clean and sparkly. We booked into the Bencoolen House, right on par for disgusting, and settled into a room with narrow bunkbeds and then just enough room for our packs and maybe one fart. We were to find out later that Marcy had said to stay on Beach Road - ooops.

The girls, John, and I had made a plan to meet at Boat Quay, at a Coffee Bean at 8pm. Boat Quay is a very interesting touristed and business meeting area in the heart of the financial district on a riverside.

This city is amazing after seeing other sides of Asia for three months. Even Kuala Lumpur in comparison is trashy. People say Singapore is a model city, it certainly is one of the cleanest I have seen, modern, skyscrapers dotted around and concentrated in the business area. And wow - parks! Like green grass, how novel! The road systems are neat and organized, wide clean multilanes running through the city.

As we walked down North Bridge to Boat Quay, we came to the fancy nighttime and tourist and business hangout at the riverside with the towering backdrop of the business center buildings behind. It was dark now and the riverside and many surrounding buildings were lit prettily, quaint in a metropolis setting. I found it all very attractive.

We walked across a nice white arched stone bridge, went left afterward to the long run of restaurants and bars, and dance clubs to find the girls immediately at the Coffee Bean. They had eaten but John and I were starving so I walked along to check menus and prices and found most meals about S$16, so we instead settled for toasted sandwiches and pink lemonade Snapple at the Coffee Bean.

We gabbed for a couple of hours then trained back to the girls hotel to check it out as a possible option tomorrow night. I fell onto their only double bed and fell asleep while John and Marcy chatted

They woke me around midnight, walked us outside for a posed group picture. We then said fond farewells, we had spent many days in the last ten with them. I think because I was ill I didn't bond as closely with them us John did. Marcy especially is an extraordinary person, very attractive in many ways, very warm and cherry and giving.

Tu 6/1/99 - Singapore

I met John at the front desk after I made a call to my mom (S$0.69/min) and he said that he wouldn't mind staying at the Bencoolen since he didn't get bitten during the night in the inhospitable surroundings. We were paying for last night and a second night when the Chinese man behind the desk said that we would need to leave the key so they could spray. "Spray?! Spray for what?". He looked down and said bedbugs. John and I looked at each other in shock, then laughed. The three of us discussed the pests and made life sized drawings of the shape of bedbugs, yup I had killed them last night. We said we would be leaving immediately.

We walked down Middle to Beach and found the only room at Lee's with two beds costing us S$35, way too much, but it had fan and air conditioning on a timer, no toilet, but a window. After last evening, I had lost all energy to search more, John liked the thought of a/c, and the English woman who showed the room had walked off anyway leaving us the room and key. I wondered if we were bringing bedbugs in.

I was still not feeling well, and regardless, having this similar illness twice in five weeks meant I should be checked by a doc, and so planned on it with a little bit of pressure from John, Marcy, Pepa, and Sue. And I was in Singapore, home to very good medical care.

I searched for the best place to go. I had been given the name of a traveler's clinic that I couldn't find on my map. The general hospital was a choice, recommended by the sometimes bitchy women at the front desk but who has never been I wanted a tropical disease specialist though and after finally realizing there truly was a yellow pages phone book in Singapore, I found only one advertisement for such a place. I made an appointment for 215pm.

In the morning I had laid thinking of the answer to my possible illness and came up with 'virus', not malaria or dengue fever, just another bug of some sort. Well, that was my guess

I rode the shinny first world train system to Orchard, spent a half hour wandering the large Lucky Plaza near the Mt. Elisabeth Medical Center, then found Doctor Oon Chong Teik's office at the center.

The hospital looks like any American hospital, no, better than a lot of them. Dr. Oon's office was very nice, wood paneling and comfortable surrounds. He was a very congenial and gentle man. The doc took recent medical and traveling history and came back with 'probably just a virus'. He took specimens from everywhere he could find (blood, urine, feces), talked a long while about malaria stories, and in the middle of it all quietly asked if I have ever seen the urine of a malarial patient, "Umm, nooo...". He reached to a large beaker of black liquid. The blood tests for malaria, and cell counts would be back tomorrow, stool in two days. He then said to call or return in two days. The bill was incredible - S$90 visit charge and S$100 for testing ($111).

While I was there, a nurse checked my weight and vital signs, and the scale read 83.5kg (183.7lbs) which is about a pound lower versus the last reading in Chiang Mai.

I took the underground train back to Beach Road. As I walked along admiring the sparkling city, the new and clean looking buildings, grass parks, fancy high-rises and hotels, I noticed that the heat of the last two days were not so stifling. Singapore is on a peninsula and is washed by ocean breezes and is actually cooler than Bangkok even though we are nearly on the equator.

We 6/2/99 - Singapore

John and I have allocated one more day in Singapore before heading to Indonesia and it's potential political unrest. In our late morning wanderings we inquired with different folk for the location of a Pizza Hut only to come up with a Milano Pizza. The up side of the lunch was the all you can eat, the down side was the amount of grease in the crust and cheese. Boy, how eating is such an important highlight on this trip.

We walked through Lucky Plaza, John looking at dive watches, I just tagged along.

I met with Dr. Oon to receive results from the blood and urine tests and they had all come back negative. The stool culture was so far negative but for the unlikely event something developed I left my email address. Our meeting was as long as yesterdays, he did remind me to be careful with malaria and to rush immediately back to Singapore in the event of any medical problems. I then asked if their was medication for my symptoms, I thought he would throw a few tablets at me, but when I reached the reception desk I was handed four prescriptions and a S$90 bill. This included Cipro at S$8 a pill. I kicked myself because with my insurance deductible I may be footing the total for prescriptions personally. I have a pack of Cipro that cost US$1.50 from Kathmandu and besides the medicine for bacterial diarrhea was only a precaution. At least I had the laboratory testing done and came through clean.

Tickets for a flight from Singapore to Jakarta cost S$95 including S$15 departure tax. John and I were originally interested in ferrying across the distance, but we couldn't find complete schedules and costs, and timing a weekend with Brenda Brennen's dad Jack required the flight. Had we ferried, we would have sailed from Singapore to the Indonesian island a few hours south called Bintam, one of a thousand in the Riau Archipelago, then on to Jakarta in twenty eight hours through the South China Sea. Another complication was that onward travel from Bintam is only twice weekly.

Across Beach Road from Lee's Guest House is a United Artists Theater and below an internet cafe. We had been through the mall a number of times in two days and only this morning did John figured out what the marquee description "SW Episode l" meant - the new Star Wars movie was playing, the premiere tonight. When John found out this morning, he came into the room very excited and asked if I wanted to see the midnight 12:15am showing. I agreed.

Like most of Singapore the theater appeared new, very large, with a state of the art sound system and concessions to match. The buzzing crowd was nearly all Singaporeans, although I recognized a few faces from our guesthouse. More than half of the crowd were young males. We took our seats close to the curved screen and off to the left. After a few commercial advertisements we were confused by seemingly being thrown abruptly into the science fiction movie with a metallic gray interior shot of a Star Wars spacecraft bridge, but instead Mike Myers as Doctor Evil turned in the seat and said, "If there is only one movie you'll see this summer, see 'Star Wars'. but if there are two movies then see the 'Spy Who Shagged Me'", and funky Austin Powers music played. The clip had most of the crowd laughing, especially John and I since we have been looking forward to seeing the sequel. When Star Wars did start, the crowd cheered and I felt embarrassed and laughed. I looked back into the crowd and saw a lit array on long plastic Star Wars swords.

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