Malaysia on a whim

---

Almost on a whim, in October of 2008 I decided to load up the Fortuner with camera and bird-watching equipment, bird books, maps and a list of bird watching locations, and head north into Malaysia. I had no set plans, no firm route, and no hotel bookings. I left Singapore on Monday the 13th with a wonderful sense of freedom - it had probably been 40 years since I set out on an almost totally unplanned solo trip.

Leaving home at 4.45pm, I stopped to check my tyres at the petrol station just up the road. The pump attendant discovered a very large nail in one of the rear tyres which made for a great start to the trip - but better than a blow out on a Malaysian back road. It took me almost an hour to find a tyre repair shop in Pasir Ris and fix and change the tyres around, so I was a bit late hitting the causeway and the Johor Bharu rush hour traffic going northeast was horrendous.

Despite the delays I managed to reach Kota Tinggi at dusk; I had forgotten what a one-horse town Kota Tinggi is - it seemed to have only three hotels, several having apparently closed down. I picked what looked like the best bet, Hotel Seri Kota, a fairly drab corner property near the market and took a room at RM55 (about S$22). By eight-thirty most of the cafes and restaurants seemed to be closed, so I had soup and chicken curry at the brightest place in town, Pizza Hut; at least I didn’t have to eat their execrable pizza. Back in my room I sorted out stuff for the next day - an early morning visit to Panti Forest, and had an early night.

I left Kota Tinggi just before seven in the morning and soon reached the Bunker Trail at milestone 267 on the Mersing road. The well-known birding trail takes its name from a pair of old World War II bunkers that straddle the road at this point. As soon as I stepped onto the trail a large truck turned in from the main road and went thundering past me and up the track ahead; it was the first of many in both directions. None of them seemed to carry logs - perhaps sand or gravel - but it seems the forest is suffering many depredations from agricultural or industrial exploitation.

It is a pleasant trail, and lovely in the cool of early morning before the sun has time to rise above the trees - fortunately it runs almost north to south. A couple of hundred metres into the secondary forest is a new tarmac car park, a small building and a new bird-spotting tower (the gate to which was firmly padlocked), so perhaps the state is recognising the importance - or visitor potential - of this area.

At this point in my life I had been a bird watcher for a little over one month, and my three-hour walk only enabled me to positively identify three bird species - a Greater Racket-tailed Drongo, Jambu Fruit Dove and Yellow-throated Flowerpecker. I heard a myriad of calls - none of which, of course, meant anything to me - and saw many birds flying at a distance or flitting from branch to branch in the dense mid-level foliage of the trees. Unfortunately none of these sightings were clear enough or long enough for me to be able to identify the species. I must admit that a couple of hours into the walk I was beginning to wonder whether I was cut out for forest bird watching. We shall see…

I returned to the Hotel Seri Kota about eleven, took a shower and left at noon for Sedili Besar about 50km away on the coast. This was a place I had never visited or even heard of during my five years of living in Malaysia, and having spotted a pleasant looking resort here on the internet I had called the night before to book a room. From the back road that runs down to Sedili Kechil, a new bridge has been built over the Sedili Besar river - a massive, soaring structure that was finished two years ago, primarily to facilitate the hundreds of square kilometres of palm oil plantations that lie north of the river, one assumes. I was told that until the bridge was built there was only a passenger ferry across the Sedili Besar.

The Tanjung Sutera resort is positioned on a cliff-top above a rocky beach running along the west coast of the point. About thirty cottages sit amongst the trees with a restaurant and swimming pool near the cliff edge. It seemed to be empty when I arrived, but the owner told me a group of Singaporeans had checked out the day before - Singaporeans make up about 80% of the clientele. The resort is twelve years old and its location is to die for, but - in a way that is hard to describe unless you’ve travelled around Malaysia a lot - it is a typical individually-owned Malaysian hotel, with a rather sleepy air about it.

Lunch was satisfactory though, and I was more than ready for it after my early rise and morning exercise. I chose the only ‘sea view suite’ perched right on the cliff’s edge, pleasantly clad inside with bamboo and rattan matting walls and ceiling, but under-furnished (other than a massive and very comfortable bed) and atrociously lit; and with a very local-style wet shower-room.

After a siesta, I drove to the very attractive village of Sedili Besar. My plan was to rent a boat to explore the freshwater mangrove swamps (a potential Ramsar wetland reserve site) and try and spot some birds. But none of the few fishermen at the fishing boat jetties seemed in the slightest bit interested, so I contended myself with exploring the many back roads on the peninsular, taking a few photographs in the beautiful late afternoon light, and stumbling across a stunning deserted beach.

Back at the hotel, I showered and went for dinner. I was clearly the only guest and after dinner Ahmed, the owners’ forty year-old son, joined me for a chat. It transpired he was born in Singapore and only came here fifteen years ago to help his parents build and develop Tanjung Sutera. His wife and two teenage kids live and school in JB where he also spends a lot of time. He was a lovely guy, and offered to show me around a few local spots of interest, so we agreed to set off at six thirty the next morning.

A power failure hit the whole area about 9.30pm so we chatted on by candlelight until I turned in and read myself to sleep in the soft light of a scented candle, the waves breaking gently on the rocks thirty metres below.

As agreed Ahmed and I left early in my car and first made our way to the opposite end of the beautiful beach I had found the previous afternoon, down an overgrown track I would never have found. From here we walked through a fairytale mix of forest and mangrove to another cove full of pre-historic looking rocks. A wonderful place, unlike anywhere I remember seeing in Malaysia. Later we drove through swathes of palm oil to another kampong where we took a little-used grass track down to a narrow tributary of the Sedili Besar River that, with the help of the main river, forms a large evergreen island. Another tranquil, magical spot, hemmed in by massive fronded fern-like palms. Back at the resort we had breakfast and then Ahmed showed me over the 30-acre property and some of its rooms.

The whole morning we had stopped occasionally for some bird watching - in places there was quite a profusion of birds to be heard and seen. Again I had difficulty identifying most of them. But the high spot was two, then three, white-bellied sea eagles perched afar on a leafless tree close to the beach. These sea eagles patrol the shoreline at regular intervals here, every day.

I had asked Ahmed the previous evening if it were possible to get a boat to take me out onto the Sedili Besar or Kechil rivers and he had managed to organize it. So after lunch and a siesta we set out - I had invited Ahmed to join me - towards Sedili Kechil. Just before the village we pulled into a house right on Jason’s Beach, and I was introduced to Salim, another Singaporean who’d been here for twenty years. In many places his acre and a half of beachfront property plus house and almost-finished garden room on stilts would fetch several million dollars. Here, however, he said he’d take RM250,000 any day.

We walked down to the beach where his small fibreglass dinghy was a long way out on the gently sloping sand-flats (Salim claimed the tide was the lowest he had ever seen). We waded out, clambered aboard, made our way precariously through the shallows to the mouth of the Sedili Kechil, and spent the next two or three hours puttering up the wide river. I was expecting more mangrove, for from what I had read this was an important freshwater mangrove area, but perhaps I didn’t know what I was seeing. It was very pleasant, if not wildly exciting, a typical tidal river with quite a mixture of vegetation. There was not a lot of bird life to be seen, except literally dozens of collared Kingfishers perching, diving, and noisily flying through the trees and palms along the river’s edge. It strikes me that Kingfisher species seem to have their own territories - or perhaps it is just preferred habitant - as the day before, driving through the palm oil plantations, all the Kingfishers were of the white-throated variety.

We made our way back to Salim’s place just as it was getting dark - fortunately the tide had risen a few feet by now and there were no problems with the shallows. I handed over the RM200 I had agreed to pay for the boat and Salim’s time, and bade my farewells.

I should mention the swiftlet “hangars” I had been seeing everywhere the past couple of days. These huge (perhaps 50m x 20m) slab sided buildings are apparently the craze for Chinese businessmen looking to make a fortune out of the growing demand for bird’s nest soup. If they get it right (location, location), thousands of swifts are attracted by the right lighting, temperature and humidity (and, I am told, music) to build their nests inside, which can then be harvested for the saliva that goes to make bird’s nest soup. If they get it wrong, then they lose a lot of money. Each building costs RM400,000 and a good harvest returns RM100,000 a year. One can see the attraction. Up in Kelantan, apparently, there is a 16-hectare development with four hundred swiftlet “hangars” for sale.

After dinner I packed up my stuff and had an early night - a cold that been threatening for a few days finally took hold and I was feeling rather grim.

Still feeling knocked out by my cold, I dragged myself out of bed for breakfast, thinking I would drive to Kuantan and check into the Hyatt to rest up for a day - at least I’d have predictable luxury and room service. I said goodbye to Ahmed and his mother - who, very sweetly, presented me with a sandwich lunch for my journey. Next ➤ ➤

Howard's Malaysia Trip Galleries at PBase

---