Trains and Boats and Planes and Rats and Cats and Bats

Hello everyone,

Oh God, it's those two blithering idiots again, I hear you saying.

1. Did they survive the fleshpots of Pattaya?

2. Did the heat and humidity of the Malaysian jungle not kill 'em off?

3. Where in heavens name are they bothering me from this time?

Well, 1) Yes we did. 2) No it didn't. 3) Hang on; I'll just look out the window. Hmmm, looks very much like the streets of Yangon below.

Now, before you all get on your high horse and tell me we've got no morals visiting such a country, I would like to set the record straight and say we have every sympathy with the downtrodden populace of Myanmar. After all, we've lived under Tony Blair's government for several years, so we know what real suffering is.

Anyway, we're here....so live with it!

Whilst it may only seem like 5 minutes since we left Blighty, 9th January marked our 5 month anniversary in foreign parts.

It proved impossible to finalise this edition of our blog whilst we were in Malaysia due to the fact that Internet Cafes there are used for one activity and one activity only and that is gaming. From the time they open till the time they close, they are populated by truanting school kids playing computer games at volumes so deafening, the buildings shake. Then the Taiwanese earthquake affected all lines whilst we were in Singapore, so couldn't do anything there either.

We ended our last report as we were about to leave Bangkok for Pattaya. We decided to take the local bus rather than a scam tourist bus as the journey was only 3 hours. Apart from the deafening Thai pop music that accompanies you on every bus journey in Thailand, Malaysia and a few other Asian countries populated by mainly stone-deaf not to mention tone-deaf people, the journey was uneventful. We had to get a sawngthaew (a glorified horse-box but far less comfortable) from the bus station to our hotel as taxis don't demean themselves by doing short journeys.

Pattaya is a very 'In your face' sort of place although I wouldn't mind betting that if you had other preferences, the girls would be happy to oblige. The seafront is actually quite attractive with lots of decent restaurants and it is easy to see why this resort is so popular with the 18-30 age group. Most, but not all, of the nightlife is centred on Walking Street which is, unsurprisingly, pedestrianised and about one mile long. It is full of bars, restaurants and shops with all manner of distractions to keep you amused. There are a couple of other areas nearby which are full of clubs, most notably Boys Town, which as the name suggests is where the gays hang out......quite literally. Here too, as in Bangkok, there were plenty of older Western guys with Thai girls barely out of their pram. Whilst Pattaya is hardly a place of culture, we didn't spend our entire time getting drunk (well, Jo did). We managed to squeeze in a visit to one or two local attractions including the catchily named 'The Million Years Stone Park and Pattaya Crocodile Farm'. Founded by the equally catchily named Khun Suan Phanomwattanakul, this is a fantastic collection of natural wonders that are valuable because of their rarity or oddity. They are displayed in a beautifully well kept landscaped garden that was a real pleasure to walk around. The crocodile farm itself is home to thousands of fresh water crocodiles as well as to many other species of animals.

Another day, we walked to Jomtien Beach. Now, if anyone even so much as titters at the next statement, I'm going to hit them with my handbag AND scratch their eyes out. I had a manicure. Thailand's beaches are full of women, one or two the right side of sixty but most seemingly a lot older, who are more than willing to pamper any part of the body you care to have pampered (yes, even that part.....in fact, especially that part). Some recent name calling has led me to believe that others think that I prefer to pamper that part myself. If that is the case, and I am not admitting anything without my lawyer present, then keeping my nails short is essential. The whole process took around 20 minutes and cost 3 quid. She then made a beeline for my feet but no way was I going to take my socks off in front of a strange woman. After all, I am British.

We ended up staying in Pattaya for 4 nights and would certainly recommend it to other cool young dudes in the same age bracket as ourselves.

Rather than do a very long convoluted bus journey from Pattaya to Koh Samui which would involve a return to Bangkok, we took the easy option of a one hour flight with Bangkok Air. I stupidly forgot to check how far Pattaya airport was from the town itself. It turned out to be so far East of Pattaya that it would have been more accurate to call it Hong Kong airport and we only just made our flight on time. I should have twigged earlier as the taxi drivers were asking the same price (800 baht) to get to Pattaya airport as they were to go to Bangkok airport but I assumed they were just trying to scam us. Stubbornly I held out for 500 baht which no taxi driver would agree to. We ended up going for 600 baht by Sawngthaew which are considerably slower as they are constantly on the lookout for other passengers along the way.

Despite its claims to be an International airport, Pattaya seems to be owned by the military and the civilian passenger terminal is right at the very end of a 4 mile long road tucked well out of the way with virtually no signposting to it. The plane was only half full but there were a party of very loud boisterous Russians aboard who are second only to Israelis in the 'tourists I least like to travel with' international league table.

We arrived in Koh Samui at one of the strangest terminals we've ever seen. It was a long thatched building completely open to the elements and surrounded by coconut trees. The staff were all dressed in colourful flowery shirts. It had the look and feel of a Caribbean beach bar rather than an airport terminal. We took a shared minivan to Chaweng Beach, the main resort on the island, where we had already selected a place to stay. The resort is basically one very long road full of restaurants, bars and shops set back several hundred yards from the beach. Between the road and the beach is a string of resorts and complexes mostly consisting of individual bungalows. These range from the decrepit at around GBP 4 per night to the luxurious on the beach itself at around GBP 60 per night. Our initial choice resort had only one room left on the wrong side of GBP 30 price bracket and could not accommodate us anyway for the 5 nights we planned on staying on the island. We spent the next couple of hours trying to find somewhere suitable (the longest it has taken to find accommodation anywhere on this trip) and finally got a very nice bungalow discounted from GBP 25 to GBP 20 a night which, if my maths is right, amounted to one extra night for free, which, in the end, we took advantage of. It had everything you could need (air-conditioning, TV and bars of chocolate in the fridge for Jo) plus a poolside location and was only 50 yards from the beach. Whilst neither of us are into swimming or sunbathing, the location was gorgeous and it was easy to picture ourselves as castaways on a desert island. Well, it was for me. Jo was too busy scoffing the chocolate from the fridge.

Koh Samui is really a beautiful island and although some parts are quite commercialised, it was very easy to find secluded spots. Much of the interior is hilly and is less accessible by road than the coastal areas and so provides further scope for avoiding the masses. We were very lucky with the weather too, as we only experienced one day of persistent rain (see below), a common occurrence in December.

Whilst we had intended our time on Koh Samui to be fairly relaxing, we did, of course, visit some of the main attractions on the island. One of our earlier forays was to Wat Phra Yai which is a temple housing the most famous landmark on Samui, 'The Big Buddha'. He stands almost 40 feet high and towers over the surrounding landscape.

Another outing was to the strange rock formations of Hin Ta and Hin Ya. These are shaped like male and female genitalia respectively and attract lots of giggling Thai girls who, although seemingly embarrassed, pose in front of them to have their photo taken. We were not surprised to find practically an entire town of souvenir shops and food stalls leading all the way down the road to this rather unusual tourist sight.

Another curiosity we just had to visit was 'The Mummified Monk' at Wat Khunaram. A few days before his death in 1973 at the age of 79 this monk instructed his followers to build a coffin for him. He died on exactly the day that he predicted he would but his body refused to decay. A glass coffin was built in which the corpse is exhibited to this day. Although a bit leathery, he looks surprisingly well for a dead man. Few pilgrims come to visit him as was his wish but there are plenty of tourists so he shouldn't feel too neglected.

One evening we decided to go to a Muay Thai (Thai kick boxing) event. When we got there we found that admission prices started at 800 baht (GBP 11.50) and rose to 1500 baht (GBP 21.50). Now, whilst I would be happy to pay that amount of money and probably a lot more to see a Delhi taxi driver get beaten to a pulp, it's a different matter when it's two local Koh Samui lads whose names would be worth at least 5 triple letters and a double word score in a game of Scrabble and whom nobody has ever heard of. Instead, I just satisfied my violent tendencies by smacking Jo around the head a few times. It cost nothing and was much more satisfying.

Ko Pha-Ngan is the sister island to Koh Samui and is world famous for its legendary full moon parties which take place once a month. Billed as the worlds biggest beach party, crowds of over 12,000 people come to Hat Rin beach to get smashed out of their skull and to dance the night away. The number of party goers peaks at around 2am and the last of the music venues doesn't shut down till 11am.

Naturally, being the party animals that we are, we picked 'Full Moon Party' day to visit the island. As we boarded the ferry along with what seemed like the entire population of Europe, the sun was shining brightly. Five minutes after pulling away from the dock, storm clouds came from nowhere and the rain lashed down. The 30 minute journey took almost an hour and we got drenched just getting off the boat. We decided to visit Thong Sala, the main town on the island, before coming back to Hat Rin later in the day. On arrival, we saw that there was very little to keep us amused and after a small 1 course snack which turned into 4 courses due to the rather wet conditions, we caught the bus back.

It was, of course, still bucketing down when we arrived back at Hat Rin and as we got off the bus we noticed that there were crowds of people around the ferry ticket office. We soon learned that the port authority had stopped all further sailings for the rest of the day. All we had were the clothes we stood up in and little hope of getting any accommodation due to the 'Full Moon Party' that night. We stood there contemplating what our next move should be when Thailand's equivalent to Arthur Daley sidled up and whispered 'Speedboat, 500 baht each' in my ear. Although speaking in hushed tones, he was quite open that the trip would be illegal. He said we needn't worry though as the boat would go to a secluded beach on Koh Samui out of sight of any waiting police. Very reassuring, we thought! More concerned about our safety than with any run-in with the old bill, we were told that only 15 people would be taken across at one time rather than the 24 the boat could hold. This, he said, was due to the inclement weather (presumably, he meant the Tsunami taking place on top of my head). I seem to remember a bus company in hell, sorry India, saying a similar thing and it turned out there was barely enough space on the roof rack for the extra passengers they tried to cram in. However, as we hadn't been scammed up to now in Thailand and he seemed quite genuine, I was happy to believe him but left the final decision to Jo (Well, you gotta blame someone when the shit hits the fan, haven't you). Having realised after about 5 seconds that she hadn't seen a single bar of Cadburys chocolate on Koh Pha Ngan, Jo decided any risk was worth taking. Absolutely gutted at having to miss the 'Full Moon Party' we paid over our 1000 baht, justifying to ourselves that accommodation, if it could be found, would cost twice that much and joined the other hapless victims who had decided to risk life and limb to get back to Koh Samui that day. Personally, never having been in a speedboat before, I didn't know what to expect and was looking forward to the ride as were several of the others waiting. One or two looked absolutely petrified and were asking lots of questions about the capabilities of speedboats in the hope of being reassured. They weren't. Finally, it was time to depart. The speedboat drifted up behind two parked ferries which we had to cross in order to get aboard. Presumably, this was so it couldn't be seen by any official on the dock side. As we boarded, I counted us on and there were indeed 15 of us so Arthur Daley was telling the truth after all. Fortunately, Jo and I managed to secure the last 2 places under shelter whilst the last 2 on board had to put up with getting soaked outside. The fact that they were Israelis almost caused me to shart (when you involuntarily fart with joy and excitement but it turns out to be more solid than you planned).

I can only liken the first 5 minutes of the trip to being in a car whilst going over continuous road humps every few feet at 60 mph. We had barely gotten up to speed before one poor girl was already throwing up and the guy with her looked whiter than an albino polar bear in a snow storm. Obviously neither of them had experienced the night bus from Mcleod Ganjh to Manali in hell, sorry India.

Nevertheless, after about 20 minutes and a very sore backside, we executed a beach landing that the D-Day forces would have been proud of. The rain was coming down much harder now and the speedboat owner told us that this was the last trip he was going to attempt that day. Our thoughts were with all those still stuck on Ko Pha Ngan. We ran from the beach managing to get to the nearest road without being spotted by the local constabulary. The first horse box that came by was full but we managed to get a lift on the second one back to our resort.

Our final two days dawned bright and sunny and we just ambled around town not getting up to much at all.

On our final morning we were up with the larks to get a sawngthaew for the one hour journey to the ferry terminal on the other side of the island. The ferry back to the mainland also takes an hour and pulls in to the port of Don Sak from where we had to get a shared mini van to the town of Surat Thani which coincidentally is a further hour away. At Surat Thani we waited a couple of hours for a bus to take us to Hat Yai, a town 5 hours further south. Of course, we were treated to the dulcet tones of yet another Thai pop idol played at full volume for the entire duration of the journey.

It was already dark when we arrived in Hat Yai but we had the addresses of a couple of places that could accommodate us for the night. Unfortunately both were full but our sawngthaew driver immediately recommended another place which he said was very good if a little expensive at GBP 8 a night. Suspecting the usual scam of 'Driver recommends hotel - Hotel pays driver commission - We stay in cockroach infested slum for the night', we nevertheless decided to have a look as it was only around the corner. It turned out to be a lovely hotel and a real bargain at that price. That evening, we had one of the best Chinese meals we have had for many a year and at around GBP 3 for the two of us, another genuine bargain.

The only reason we were in Hat Yai was to take the train from there to the Thai border town of Sungai Kolok from where we could walk across into Malaysia. Although we had a couple of hours wait at the station the next morning, the train finally arrived complete with two armed guards who spent the journey just walking up and down through the carriages. This part of Thailand is notorious for insurgent activity and as there were some quite recent incidents, we were glad of their presence. We got chatting to one of these guards and it turned out he supported Manchester United. Well, there's no accounting for taste, I suppose. We arrived at the border just after noon and with minimal formalities we crossed over into the Malaysian border town of Padang Besar. We walked to the centre of town where we planned to get a bus to Kota Bharu, one of the larger cities in Malaysia and about the only one in this part of the country.

This whole North-Eastern area of Malaysia is almost entirely Muslim and indeed, Kota Bharu is known as 'The Islamic City'. We christened it with another title - 'The Rats, Cats and Bats City'. As we got off the bus, we saw some very large rats just ambling along in the gutter quite oblivious to the huge number of cats that were also in the streets. Thailand has thousands of stray dogs all over the country but in Malaysia we encountered large numbers of cats everywhere. Finally, as darkness enveloped the town, the brazen bat population decided to practice aerobatic movements inches above our heads. Taking shelter under covered walkways was no solution as they simply dive-bombed down under the roofs themselves with absolute precision.

There were several touts waiting at the bus station to take you to their grotty hotels where undoubtedly more rats would be waiting to welcome you but as usual we just ignored them and headed for the centre of town. The first one we checked out had a problem in that the owner couldn't get the room door to open to show us its potential so we walked straight out of there. None of the places around looked particularly inviting but we checked out one room which seemed marginally better than the others and managed to get a few quid knocked off the price for a two night stay. The intention was to look around the town the following day and then catch a train the morning after that.

As we came out of our hotel later that evening on our way to find somewhere to eat, we were greeted by more of the largest rats you ever saw scurrying all over the place. We were also being deafened by the sound of birds screeching in the trees. As we turned a corner we saw several men firing stones from catapults up into the trees to try and scare them off. Needless to say, they took flight, did a quick circuit of the surrounding streets and then promptly took residence in the same tree ready for the whole process to start again. As we came back past them after dinner, they were still at it and we wondered why they bothered as the birds were winning hands down.

The following day we visited the few tourist sights around the town. One of these was the Ceremonies Museum, where we once again came up against 'foreigner pricing', something we hadn't seen since leaving hell, sorry India. It cost 1 peanut for the locals to visit the Museum yet as foreigners we were expected to pay zillions of ringits. Unlike the scammers in hell, sorry India, the woman in the ticket office didn't mince her words when I queried why foreigners were charged 10 times what the locals pay. She said 'It's because you earn 10 times more than them'. It seemed rather churlish to point out to her that we are in fact both unemployed, not earning a brass farthing and the powers that be shouldn't assume that everyone from the West is a multi-millionaire, but I did anyway. We still had to pay up of course but I felt a lot better putting the Malaysian government to rights.

We then went on to the local war museum which although gory was not as gory as the indoor fish and meat market where the traders were busily chopping up various carcasses to hang up for potential purchasers. The floor was a skating rink of blood and one could imagine how many thousands of rats that place was home to after it closed for the day.

After dinner that evening we returned to our hotel room to find yet more wildlife in residence. We had assumed a tortoise had escaped from somewhere but couldn't remember ever seeing a black one. We then realised we were in fact looking at the largest cockroach known to man. Jo said she would go down to reception to find someone to get rid of it whilst I stood on the bed keeping an eye on it. Indiana Jones finally arrived, calmly picked it up and walked out with it cupped in his hands. He obviously found the whole incident highly amusing as he was practically wetting himself laughing. Whilst recovering from the shock of seeing something that large sharing our room, another one suddenly appeared from behind the wardrobe although to be fair this one was only 4 inches across. He disappeared again as quickly as he came but we didn't dare call Indiana Jones again for fear of being the laughing stock of the entire town. Believe me, we had a very restless night with all the lights and the TV on trying to discourage it from making another appearance. Our admiration for David Attenborough suddenly increased a thousand fold that night.

Fortunately, it turned out be a shorter night than normal as we had to be up at 4.30am to get a taxi at 5.00am for our journey to the railway station some 10 miles away at Wakaf Bharu.

The Malaysian railway system is shaped like the letter 'Y' with the right hand arm starting at Tumpat, a few stops north of Wakaf Bharu whilst the left hand arm joins the Thai railway system at Pedang Besar in the North West of Malaysia. Both arms join each other at the town of Gemas before heading south to Johor Bahru (the border town with Singapore) and finally ending at Singapore station itself. Kuala Lumpur is somewhat annoyingly 95 miles north of Gemas on the left hand arm which means that, because of train times, you have to waste almost a day going down to Gemas and back out again if you wish to go to the capital by train.

Rather than do the 15 hour journey from Wakaf Bharu to Gemas, we decided to do a 12 hour journey as far as Mentakab from where we would take the bus to Kuala Lumpur or KL as us intrepid explorers like to call the place. This 12 hour journey would be done in 2 parts.....7 hours to Gua Musang where we would overnight before our further 5 hour journey to Mentakab. There is a very good reason for deciding to do it this way.

This arm of the Malaysian Railway system is known as 'The Jungle Line' and is a lifeline to the locals along the route. There is only one train a day but it stops at every little station and halt along the way (We reckoned around 100 stops on the journey we took). The train itself consists of 4 rickety old carriages that have no doors or windows and all the seats are wood. The one flooded toilet is of the squat variety. I don't know what the term is for the class that is two below 'cattle class' but that is the one we were travelling in.

The ticket office at Wakaf Bharu opened at 6.00am ready for the train departure at 6.30am. I told the guy that we wanted to go to Gua Musang and thought he said the fare was 40 Ringits (just under GBP 6). I handed him two 50 ringit notes to cover the 80 Ringit fare for both of us. He looked at me rather strangely before handing back one of the notes and then giving me another 36 ringits on top. What he had actually said was that the fare was 14 Ringits (GBP 2) and that would cover both of us. Try getting on a train in the UK with GBP 1 let alone expecting it to take you on a 7 hour journey!

When the train arrived, we boarded a pitch black carriage as none of the lights were switched on. Indeed, none of the lights on the entire train were switched on.....apparently, we found out later, to conserve energy. Then why bloody-well have them, then??? We managed to find a length of wood which Malaysian Railways define as a 'seat' and settled down for our bum-numbing 7 hour ride.

The first hour, we travelled in complete darkness and could only make out shapes getting on and off the train carrying various bundles and making lots of noise in the process. Many of the so called stations the train stopped at consisted of nothing more than a name-board by the side of the tracks. As we looked out into the blackness we couldn't see any lights whatsoever and wondered where these people were coming from and going to. As dawn broke and we could finally make out our fellow passengers, we were amazed to see the train was almost full of many different kinds of people....Malays, Indians, Chinese, Muslims and some that were so covered up from head to toe, they could have been Jedi Knights for all I knew. We then noticed that all the aisles, doorways and luggage racks were full of sacks of vegetables, fruit, fish and other things we did not recognise. Every couple of minutes or so, someone would walk through the carriage selling everything from chocolate (much to Jo's delight) to chicken curry and from hot Chinese tea to toilet rolls (much to my delight). Several had fried varieties of what would normally be crawling around on the jungle floor outside and there were no lack of takers for these gourmet delights.

The train would frequently stop at what appeared to be the middle of nowhere and someone would get off followed by around 30 sacks which people nearby all mucked in to offload. How they would move them from the side of the railway track we never found out nor could we see where they could possibly be going as all around was dense jungle. One old lady, who was easily in her seventies and eventually got off the stop before ours, spent most of the journey mumbling to herself and every so often would dive down her bag for a robe, put it on, take out a prayer mat, place it on the seat and kneel down on it and would then spend the next 15 minutes calling out to Allah. We noticed she was always doing this as the ticket inspector came through the carriage and of course, he couldn't interrupt her. We reckon she was a seasoned fare dodger. When she finally got off, 5 other people helped unload all the stuff she had with her and the train just waited for almost half an hour until they had finished. Jo and I did not move this much stuff out of our three-bedroomed house when we moved from Sevenoaks.

Whilst there were the odd glimpses of interesting scenery, for much of the time the jungle almost enveloped the train and there was little variety in the whole 7 hours. Although we could barely stand, we were very glad to reach Gua Musang. As we got off, all eyes were on us as if to say 'Are you sure you want this station?' As we wandered into town, which consisted of about 4 streets, people smiled and seemed friendly enough but it was plainly obvious few Westerners, if any, ever got out of the train here and we saw no others during our entire stay. We made our way to the best hotel in town, which, to be honest, was the only hotel in town a non farm animal would consider lodging in overnight. It was fantastically grand for the location with a staircase that wouldn't look out of place in a European palace and our room was one of the best on our trip so far. Sadly, the food was rubbish and we ended up at KFC. Many large towns in Malaysia don't have a KFC, so we were rather fortunate that this non descript place should be graced with a branch.

The following day we headed back down to the station for our 12 noon departure to Mentakab only to be told that the train was running over 2 hours late. That meant of course we would be travelling the last part of the journey in the dark and missing the scenery we had come to see. However, there was nothing for it but to wait. The train arrived at 2.30pm and we were on our way once again. It was just as crowded as the previous day although the food sellers were not so numerous along this stretch of the line. The scenery too opened up somewhat and we had views on both sides of the line to distant hills. The 5 hour journey passed quickly and we soon arrived in Mentakab. This was a much larger town than Gua Musang although we still seemed to be the only Westerners in evidence. We avoided the usual taxi touts who told us it was much too far to walk into town. After a 10 minute stroll, we arrived in the centre. Although there were quite a number of hotels, it was obvious from the number of half clad girls hanging out the windows that many were glorified knocking shops and the remainder were so run down that if they were in a European country, they would have had a demolition order served on them years ago. We checked in at the local Ronnie Macs where you can always guarantee to find someone who speaks English and asked them where the best hotel in town was. We figured that by finding the best one, we could tell what standard to expect from all the others. We were directed to a place a few streets away and although it looked decidedly average, it was certainly the best of the bunch. Not that it mattered as the lady owner said they were full. She told us that without a reservation several weeks in advance, we would have no hope of a room at her hotel. She obviously suffered from delusions of grandeur. All was not lost, however. Call me an old cynic if you must, but it just so happened that she owned another place about 3 miles outside of town which she was happy to drive us too. As it was only for one night we wearily agreed to have a look on the condition she drove us back to town if we didn't like the room. It turned out to be a clean air-conditioned room at a very good price so despite the location right on the edge of town with no transport, we agreed to stay.

The following morning, after some problems with our taxi not turning up, we finally made it to the bus station with just minutes to spare for the 9.00am bus to KL. The bus was full, as was the 10.00am, 11.00am and 12 noon. If we wanted a ticket for the 1.00pm bus, there were only 3 left so we were told we had better decide now. We grabbed them with both hands and wondered how we could amuse ourselves for the next 4 hours in a town with no tourist facilities and nowhere to leave our heavy rucksacks anyway. As far as Jo is concerned, any time spent not eating or at least looking for somewhere to eat, is time wasted so we headed off in search of breakfast. The squid with noodles or cold chicken rice doesn't really do it for us at that time of day and it was a job and a half to find somewhere that served anything that was recognisable as being breakfast fare. We plumped for an omelette but obviously something went wrong in the translating as the usual barely warm curry and rice turned up instead. This sent us daydreaming yet again of Ronnie Macs and KFC. We then remembered that we read that KL even had a branch of Pizza Hut which made us salivate even more.

There was so little in the town to do, we were back at the bus station 2 hours early. We did try to feign ignorance by shoving our rucksacks in the hold of the 12 noon bus which finally turned up at 12.30pm but were politely turned away by the conductor once he spotted the big 1.00pm stamp on our ticket. We arrived in KL around 4.00pm but at a totally different bus station on the wrong side of town to the one we were expecting to arrive at. Fortunately, there was a monorail station close by and we were soon in the city centre district we were looking to stay in.

You will remember that we had planned to come down the East side of Malaysia before crossing into Singapore so may be wondering why we were in KL at all. Well, we were not due in Singapore for another 10 days at least and having read the guide book, it seemed there was not enough to see to warrant us spending that amount of time on the East coast. Having travelled the jungle line, we therefore decided that our time would be better spent on the West side in KL and Melaka before Christmas and we could then go straight to the Cameron Highlands from Singapore in the New Year.

Our first two choices of hotel were full. When the third quoted us a price more than double what our guide book indicated, I said to the clerk that now we've established what you would charge Bill Gates if he turned up here, could we now be a bit more realistic as to what you charge us mere mortals who haven't recently won the lottery. Apparently, it was the Christmas season we were told and therefore they felt fully justified to whack on another 120 percent. As we were looking for 50 percent off their original room rate, we were several hundred peanuts apart in price so went off in search of something with a few less noughts on the end. After several more failed attempts, there was only one left to try along the street and this looked the most exclusive yet. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, we trundled in looking like we had been on the road for 3 days without sleep. We couldn't believe it when they quoted 25 quid a night for a deluxe room although we have learned not to show any excitement. You never get discounts if you look remotely interested straight away. We asked to have a look at the room and were whisked up to the 10th floor and shown a room fit for a King with far reaching views over the city. We returned to reception and said that if they would throw in breakfast, we would take it. We then said we were likely to stay for 5 nights so they had guaranteed occupancy and that seemed to swing the deal. We actually stayed for 7 nights in the end.

Getting around KL was easy as the LRT (Light Rail Transit) and the Monorail go to most places on the tourist circuit. For sightseeing purposes, the city can be divided into two distinct parts, namely the old colonial sector with nearby Chinatown and Little India and the newer section of the city where most of the hotels can be found along with the Petronas Towers and the Menara KL communications tower.

It was the Menara KL tower that we decided to check out first. Standing on top of Bukit Nanas (Pineapple Hill) at a height of 1280 feet, the building is a striking addition to the KL skyline. An informative film tells you all about the construction of the tower before you are whisked up to the observation deck in a high speed lift. From this deck you get a very good idea of the layout of the city and its surroundings. A personal audio commentary explains all about the history of the buildings you are looking at. In addition, the architectural features of the building which include beautifully decorated work by Iranian craftsmen make the RM20 (GBP 2.80) entrance fee even better value.

The next day we checked out the colonial district commencing our walk at Merdeka Square. Here is the beautifully tended English cricket ground which holds an important place in Malaysian history. It was at this spot on 31 August 1957 that Malaysia's first prime minister declared Merdeka, or Independence. A nearby flag pole standing 308 feet high is said to be the tallest in the world. On one side of the square is the Anglican Cathedral of St Mary's. Another side is dominated by the Royal Selangor Club, a Tudor building which was a favourite watering hole of the Brits in the late 1800s. Probably the most fascinating building of all was the National Museum of History. To be honest, we were a bit templed and museumed out at this point of our travels and only popped in there to shelter from a rain shower. We ended up spending over 2 hours in there and found the place fascinating. We later learnt that former British prime minister John Major worked in the building in his days as a banker.

Whilst in the area, we checked out Chinatown and Little India although there was little different about these than similar areas in other cities we have been to.

Another excursion we did was to the Batu Caves which lie 8 miles to the North of the city. The Hindu shrines at these caves are not only a 'must-see' of KL but are one of Malaysia's top tourist attractions.

In 1891, ten years after they were discovered by an American explorer (a likely tale as most Americans don't know what lies beyond their own front door); the local Indian population convinced the British colonial authorities that the caves would make an ideal place in which to worship. A shrine was established and soon devotees were coming from all over the place. Later, the complex was expanded to include a shrine to the elephant-headed god 'Ganesh'. In today's commercialised world, the caves are surrounded by the full panoply of religious consumerism together with several restaurants and clothes shops.

The caves themselves are at the top of a very long staircase but we were both a little disappointed at the lack of things to see once we had puffed and panted our way to the summit. Nevertheless, the whole visit was free (a distinct rarity in Asia particularly for foreigners) so we can't really complain.

Another morning, we penciled in a visit to the Petronas Towers, one of the worlds tallest buildings and the number one tourist site in KL. Petronas, for those who are strangers to 'Business Week' with Jeremy Paxman, is the state owned oil company of Malaysia. Tickets to the Skywalk, a platform which links the two towers, are limited to around 1000 a day. Whilst this may sound a lot, each day's allocation is usually gone within an hour of them becoming available. The ticket office opens at 8.30am but we had been warned to get there around 7.00am to ensure we would get a ticket. We left the hotel at 6.00am and arrived there 15 minutes later to find a queue of around a dozen or so people, several of whom had obviously been there all night. During the next couple of hours the queue just grew and grew and we found out that several in line were tour guides hoping to get 20 tickets at a time. By the time the ticket office opened, there were at least 300 people in the lobby and we were very thankful we got there when we did. Tickets are free and are issued for 15 minute time slots. Being near the front of the queue we got allocated a 9.00am viewing. You wait in an ante-room and can read all about the building of the twin towers as well as watch a film showing the various stages of their construction. At 9.00am around 15 of us were led through security checks, not unlike you find at an airport, into the lift and then up to the Skywalk itself. We were told we had just ten minutes to look around and take photos. Because we were not as high as we were in the Menara KL tower, the views were not as far reaching but were impressive nonetheless. On our return to the ground floor, we noticed that the current tickets they were allocating were for 12 noon and the queue seemed to go on forever. Little did they know but those at the back had no chance whatsoever of getting in that day.

We then went on to the newest attraction in KL, the aquarium. One or two sections of this attraction were excellent but overall we didn't feel it was worth the admission price they were charging. The local population obviously disagree, as when we came out, the queue to get in was just horrendous.

We decided to spend a day at the Lake Gardens, an expansive area just West of the colonial quarter. We headed first to the National Planetarium only to find it was their closing day despite the 'Lonely Liar' saying it was open daily. Undaunted, we headed next to the Bird Park, advertised as the world's largest covered bird park. Well, I don't know about that claim but it was certainly big and we spent at least 4 hours in there. It was nicely laid out and provided plenty of photo opportunities and at under 4 quid each was exceptional value.

We then walked quite some considerable distance to the Sculpture Garden to which many neighbouring countries have contributed. The explanations given for the few sculptures on display defy logic and no matter how they try and dress it up, a stone with a hole in the middle is simply a stone with a hole in the middle. Nothing will convince me that it is 'The embodiment of mother Earth in its finite state showing the cause and effect of its position between the underworld and the celestial heavens'.

Much more to our liking and very impressive indeed, was the National Monument, a huge bronze sculpture constructed in 1966 to commemorate the nation's heroes. It is surrounded by a moat with fountains and ornamental pewter water lilies but strangely, the figures on the monument itself look very European rather than being from any Malaysian ethnic group.

KL, in many ways, is similar to Bangkok but I particularly liked the variety of architectural styles to be found in the buildings. Although quite a small city, we managed to fill up 6 days quite easily but now it was time to move on. We had reserved our seats on the bus for our next destination which was Melaka. The 3 hour journey passed quickly and we were soon in this fascinating city which had been ruled in the past by among others, the Portuguese, the Dutch and the British.

We opted to stay at the Hotel Puri, a restored Peranakan (look it up in the dictionary) shop house. The building had lots of character and was very clean and comfortable. The only problem we had was with our neighbours in the next room who insisted on turning their TV up to full volume until 2.30am. Jo rang their room and the guy answered in an Indian voice. The call did the trick until the following morning when they had it blaring again at 6.00am. Jo once again rang their room and in as many four and six letter expletives as she could remember requested they turn their TV down unless they would like to be wearing it. It turned out the family were from Delhi. I swear to God, that place and its obnoxious residents are going to haunt us for the rest of our lives.

We had intended to see the towns 'Sound and Light' show that first evening but it was raining so it didn't take place. No announcements, no apologies, no nothing.....it just didn't happen.

The following day it was still raining so we chose to stay around town and have a look at some of the historic buildings that the town was famous for. One of these was a very unusual museum called 'The Beauty Museum'. It showed the various forms of body decoration and mutilation that different societies around the world consider beautiful from tattoos to lip plates. In the same building was a kite museum with decorative examples from all around the world. We also visited an old Portuguese church that the Dutch took over and converted when they booted out the Portuguese before the British came along and turned it into a fort due to its position on top of a hill.

The rain continued throughout the next night and when we woke in the morning, half of the town was under water. These were the worst monsoon rains Malaysia had experienced for almost a century and Melaka and the State of Johor had been particularly badly hit. This would have been declared a national disaster had it happened in the UK but in Melaka the people just waded waste deep through the water whilst the cars practically floated down the main street. We had intended to go to Ayer Keroh about 9 miles from Melaka but there was no way we could get to the bus station. The entire area was impassable. We walked back towards our hotel and decided on a taxi instead. Much of the journey was like driving through rivers but we got there in the end.

Ayer Teroh is home to a theme park called 'Mini Malaysia' and 'Mini ASEAN'. In the 'Mini Malaysia' section can be found full sized replicas of typical houses from each of the states in Malaysia. The place was very similar to the Weald and Downland Open Air Museum in Singleton, Sussex. The only problem was that you had to take your shoes off to enter every single one of the houses in the complex. The guide books didn't mention this fact and so this custom becomes a bit of a pain when you turn up in hiking boots.

'Mini ASEAN'(ASEAN stands for Association of South East Asian Nations) would have been similar to 'Mini Malaysia' except the houses in this section were from other nations around such as Thailand, Indonesia and Myanmar.

Unfortunately, this section of the park wasn't open and as it formed almost 60 percent of the entire place, we felt somewhat cheated as nobody at the ticket office had mentioned this fact. When we complained we were told that we had a 2 peanut reduction on the admission price to compensate. WOW...THANKS!

On the way to this park we noticed Melaka Zoo was only down the road and decided to cut our losses and go there instead. Despite a brief lull in the weather, it started to pour yet again the minute we reached the entrance to the zoo. It looked like it was set in for the day but there were few other options open to us for sightseeing so we decided to carry on regardless.

Melaka Zoo is the oldest and second largest in Malaysia so we managed to while away a few hours.

The weather did eventually brighten up later that evening and we finally got to see the 'Sound and Light' show. There were only 3 other people at the show and believe me, Jean Michel Jarre has nothing to worry about. He won't find much competition here.

We also wondered if the flooding would affect our train journey the following morning which had already been booked and paid for. News was coming in that there had been a major accident on the highway between Melaka and Singapore due to flooding and that many villages along that route were submerged.

The station at a town called Tampin was a 1 hour journey away from Melaka and our taxi driver thought it amusing to pretend to listen to what was being said on the radio and then tell us that our train had been cancelled and we would have to wait till the following day to see if we could get on that one. Well, we knew there was only one train a day so had no reason to disbelieve him but when he saw the disappointed looks on our faces, he burst out laughing and said he was only joking and that there would be no problems so don't worry.

We arrived at Tampin only to be told that there had been a landslide on the line overnight and our train was cancelled. They weren't sure whether it would be cleared in time to run the train the following day. There were only two options. Get the bus or get a taxi the whole way. The difference in fare was around 100 peanuts each so we opted for the bus. When we got to the bus station, they told us the next bus in two hours was fully booked but there were 2 seats left on the one after that, some 4-1/2 hours later. We grabbed 'em with both hands.

After a 5 hour journey we got to Singapore later that night but will cover that episode of our tour in the next blog.

Whilst in Myanmar we may have difficulty accessing our e-mails, so please be patient if you send us one and don't get a reply immediately. We are not sure yet how long we will be staying in Myanmar but could be about 10-14 days. As of now, the going gets trickier as far as travel arrangements are concerned so we are going to have to take it one stage at a time. Our next task will be to sort out our visas for Laos.

Rest assured, we will keep you all posted of our progress and look forward to hearing from anyone who cares to write meanwhile.

With love from us both

Mike and Jo
X X X

P.S. More piccies on Pages 4 and 5.

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