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Published: January 5th 2010
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The stately exterior of our decrepit room
The prison is inches out of the photo on the left Day 33: Taiping to Lumut
After a late night of drinking, playing with kids and watching the Olympics, we woke up really late, around 11:30. We quickly checked out of our sheisty hotel and returned to the fun food court from the night before. It was still packed with people, as it had been when we’d left at 2 AM. We enjoyed pork noodle soup, the first pork we’d seen in Malaysia, for breakfast.
It was the most splendid Sunday, and we departed around 1, reluctant to leave this gorgeous area. Families were playing and picnicking by the lake in the park. But the day was so lovely, it was also a perfect day for biking, despite intense heat and humidity. It was one of those days that make you thrilled to be alive, really. We took back roads so quiet we were able to bike alongside each other. We passed miles of palm tree farms, thick jungle, and loads of three-foot long monitor lizards, some dead, some alive. One was swimming alongside us, in a creek that ran along the road.
We rode by small, poor farmer’s homes with chickens running wild across the street, reminding me
of Thailand and Laos. Frequently, we stopped to buy more water at little shops, knowing that we needed to be drinking almost constantly to avoid dehydration. On one stop, the owners insisted we take our water for free! For free! Just because they saw that we were biking through this very hot day, and were pleased that we were biking through their neighborhood! Talk about feeling wanted!! We got very, very tired but persevered. For two hours, we didn’t see a single restaurant, and by 4:30, when we finally spotted one, we were starved.
Everything in this little hut/restaurant was covered in flies, including non-food objects, like cans and plastic bags. J was extremely disturbed, having grown up with barnyard animals, the flies reminded him of the mules covered in flies in the barn of his childhood. When our noodles and soup arrived, they too, were instantly covered in flies. Hungry, I shooed the flies away and began quickly eating. J looked like he would throw up. Why were there so many flies at this one restaurant, when there had never been any at the restaurants we ate at before? It was likely a bad omen of the cleanliness
of this place. But there was no alternative, and we were hungry and weary, so we ate, J very little, and I a lot, convincing myself it was just a swampy area that brought the flies.
As we biked on, friendly people rode past in cars, waving and honking at us. A teenage boy sitting by the roadside with friends hopped on his motorbike after we passed and followed us. For a mile, he idled alongside us, grabbing his chest and yelling happily and unintelligibly. We thought it was hysterical. I guess he was excited about seeing foreigners! After about five minutes, he turned his bike around and rode back towards his friends.
We biked over a long, highly arched bridge, with beautifully rippled water below, punctuated by swirls of pollution. There was a misty, hazy view of the ocean to one side of us, with a harbor full of aging boats in port. Dusk came on and the air was cooler, a light breeze blew, the sky was pink, and the world felt calm. The last ten miles were uphill and we grew exhausted but spurred on by the change in weather, we finally reached our destination,
Lumut. It was a lovely touristy seaside town, with many fancy shops, a brand new paved esplanade along the waterfront and a ferry launch to nearby islands.
We arrived at 8, just before sunset, and the sun was setting like an explosion over the sea. Families were enjoying the evening, sitting and walking along the esplanade. Men fished from the edges of the dock, their lines sunk in to brown, sludgy water.
We browsed by a few hotels, all expensive or full. And then we walked in to a lovely family-run place, right on the water, though our room was deep in the interior, and without windows, but nicely priced at 60 ringit ($20). Though the room was slightly decrepit, it was much improved from the previous night. The mirror was blackened for some reason, and we did have to climb four long flights of stairs, but on the plus side, there was a safe place for our bikes in the families quarters on the ground floor. We were so tired we would have slept almost anywhere.
Fatigued, we walked along the water to a lovely open seating area flanked by six stall/restaurants, in six different shiny
new buildings. There was a giant projector set up and it was playing Transformers, the movie. We ordered treats: a basket of fifty, tiny steamed clams with chili dipping sauce and steak and vegetables with rice. I’d seen locals eating the clams and been intrigued; they were good but J didn’t like them so I was impelled to eat them all, and there were so many! They also lacked the tartar sauce and butter I like to associate with clams.
We left the party atmosphere in this square, too tired to party, in search of a place with some American-style fried seafood and to our delight and surprise, quickly came upon Jooks Joint Bistro, a Western-style pub where we’d earlier gotten big props from a waiter while riding past him in to town. Gluttonously, we ordered fried fish, shrimp and squid with fries and salad. To our delight, the dish came with tarter sauce, lemon and ketchup! We were in heaven. The seafood was probably frozen and reheated but it was a good enough simulation of the real thing that it really just brought us home for half an hour. We enjoyed Guiness’ and Heinekens while watching Olympic soccer
and a whole slew of European business men celebrating.
Exhausted, we didn’t stay too long, but returned to our windowless room to sleep. A few hours later, I was awakened by a ten-second long roll of thunder that shook the bed and the entire building. I went out to the hallway window and saw that rain was pouring down, wind was thrashing the trees, lighting was illuminating the sky every few seconds, and rolls of thunder were continuing to rock the building. It was an incredible storm, the likes of which I’ve never seen again, anywhere.
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Taiping Guesthouse
Those pillars fronting the Taiping guesthouse awere the ramained from the british residence during the British period.