The One Where Louis And Jamie Went To The Beach, And Other Stories

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It's been a while.

Leaving Borneo and the Cameron Highlands

Very soon after completing the last blog we flew out of Kota Kinabalu, Borneo, and back to mainland Malaysia. After two weeks of jungle, mountains, water and all-too-real travel, we both felt it was time to make a break for the border and the haven of Thailand, with the goal of finding a beach to sit on for a long, long time. However, the journey from KL to the Thai border is particularly long and grueling and so we chose to soften it by making a half-way stop in the Cameron Highlands, situated in the interior of peninsula Malaysia. The Highlands are so named because they are particularly high, though I forget the exact figures. What is important is that they provide cool respite from the heat of sea-level Malaysia and so attract a great deal of travellers, just as they attracted the Colonial British who founded the three main towns in the area (probably). They are relatively famous as the site where Jim Thompson, a silk trader from Thailand, mysteriously disappeared after going out for a pre-dinner stroll. Luckily, I'm too lazy to go strolling pre or post anything, so I was safe. Unfotuantely Jamie likes excersise, so I had to keep an eye on him at all times.

Like most people we chose to stay in the largest of the local towns, Tana Rata, and picked Father's Guesthouse from the Lonely Planet's assorted suggestions, based on the promise of a "summer camp feel". Despite the aesthetic being slightly more miltary school than we had expected (the dorm beds were in barracks) the place didn't disappoint: it was busy, had helpful staff, free net, various entertainments and an excellent little cafe that served good western food, including homemade burgers. And I promise you, after weeks of noodles and rice, this was a major find. They also did salads, so J was equally contented. It was in fact through the power of burger that we met David Smidt, a marketing exec for Sony BMG in the Czech Republic who we would later join again on the beach in Penang. The scene went a little something like this. David orders a beef burger; Louis stares intently at David's beef burger; David, being kind, relents and offers Louis a bite; a friend is made - it was just that simple. David also had an endearing habit of saying "too much" when he meant 'lots of', e.g. "I have too much friends in London". Too much hilarity ensued.

Our only full day in the Highlands was spent as follows:

Morning: expensive cream tea. Warm scones, rich, home-made jam and fresh cream and all in the shade of Bala's Holiday Chalet, one of the oldest buildings in the area and which could have been a small English manor house. How could anyone resist? The place also had a pet rooster which strutted to and fro, looking for attention. What a tart.

Afternoon: countryside tour, taking in all the standard tourist sights. In the space of a few hours we visited, in roughly this order, a Chinese temple (standard), a strawberry farm (losing interest), a rose farm (which had an excellent viewpoint, described by our guide as "panaromic", much to our delight) and honey farm (a pattern is forming), a butterfly farm (has formed) and the Boh Tea Plantation (complete with Boh Selectors, harvesting tea). The highlight was probably the butterfly farm. Apart from the obvious, this place provided us with an opportunity to play with scorpions in relative safety, and so dispel the notion that we were travelling girlie-men, which had arisen when we both wimped out of a similar opportunity in the middle of the swamp in Borneo. Jamie stepped up first and, much to his chagrin, was treated to not one but three (the farm must have been another Jackson-Lucas enterprise) large scorpions, which were placed on his arm. Not wanting to be left out I extended my arm and was understandably displeased when this gesture was ignored and the handler placed three more deadly beasts on my chest. To calm my fears he explained that their sting is only comparable to a wasp. Unless you have an alergy, in which case it will hurt you to death.

Also much fun was the tea plantation, surrounded by the rolling green hills which, covered in the tea plants, looked like lush, verdant carpet. See pic. While we were there we sampled a pot of Boh's very finest brew, which was probably called Special Bonus, as most things are.

Our two nights in the Highlands were both pretty quiet as I think J was finishing the last blog and I was left to watch Syrinia, again, and try and make headway with my Dickens (I'll leave the classics to smarter, more patient people in the future).

Penang

The northern Malaysian island of Penang and, more specifically, its capital Georgetown, was to be our next stop. Having decided that we wanted a while in Thailand, we came here with the primary purpose of sorting out some two-month visas. Which was just as well, because we didn't accomplish very much else, although Jamie did manage to pay too much for a haircut. having fallen for the whole "how much is it?" "30,""Oh, 13, what a deal" gag. Again. We also managed to go for a couple of drinks with a couple of older women (no, not exciting, I promise) that we met in a Chinse dim sum restaurant. One was nice enough but pretty zoned out, while the other spent most of the evening insinutaing that we were lesser men for using a Lonely Planet guidebook. I have to report that, unfortunately, no lady-boy related accidents (or accidents of any kind) befell her that evening, at least not before we made our poor excuses and left, pronto.

Anyway, getting visas proved to be more easy than we had thought. For a fee of 20 ringitt, any of the local travel agents (there were many) would complete your visa application for you. What this meant in reality was that some other guy spent half a day standing in a line, in the hot smoggy weather, while me and Jamie pissed off to the local beach, Batu Ferrengi, for a long weekend (it was Friday so the embassy wouldn't reopen till Monday). On the way we met an English couple, Mickey and Amy, who were also going to the biatch, but were stopping off at a Toy Museum on the way. They showed us the flyer for the place and, ever the big kids, we were impressed. However, we both had our bags, were hot and tired, and just wanted to crash at a hostel, so we told them where we planned to stay (Baba's Guesthouse, as recommended by David Smidt back in the Highlands) and suggested they meet us later.

The (First) Beach

Compared to Thailand, Malaysia's beaches are sub-standard but still pretty beautiful, and the obvious choice considering we had a weekend to fill before our visas were ready. We stayed at a small guesthouse, Baba's, and our three days were mainly filled eating, sleeping, lying on the beach and playing cards (El Pres, of course, though Nominations Whist was also a dream) with our assorted travelling buddies, Mickey, Amy, David and Wes Mantooth, a giant American bear who was good at beach volleyball. Highlights of these peaceful few days were two banana boat rides and a dabble with parasailing. I'd never had the pleasure of a banana boat before and I loved it. Sitting at the back, with 5-6 other people bouncing up and down along the rest of the... shaft, was rather like riding a rodeo bull. Unsuprisingly, falling off when we hit a particularly large wave was the best part. By the time we'd had two rides everyone had had their fill and we had all found ourselves in the water against our will at some point or another. Parasailing was also very cool, though I spent my whole time up in the air feeling that I was about to fall out of my harness and plummet to a watery grave. Although this hint of danger made the experience pretty exciting, I was glad to touch down with a near perfect landing. 10 points.

Although we did a lot of nothing at Batu Ferrengi, it was good to spend some time with social company and there were many sad goodbyes when, on the Tuesday, me and J left for Georgetown, to pick up our visas and bus to Thailand.

Bricktop

Being a ray of sunshine and so totally personable can have its downsides as I found out when I struck up a coversation with a grizzled old English (accented) guy while waiting for our minibus to the Malaysian-Thai border. The man's name cannot be revealed for legal reasons, but as he looked, spoke and acted like Bricktop from Guy Ritchie's Snatch, I'm going to rechristen him for this blog. Now Bricktop's story was that he'd been living in Thailand for a few years but called Japan home. He'd been married to a Japanese girl there but had been imprisoned for something bad (he wouldn't tell me what, but assured me it wasn't drugs - thank god). Unfortunately, his wife's father was a polititian and wanted to save face, so offered to have Bricktop set free from jail, if he divorced his wife. Now, Bricktop is a very proud man, as he explained to me, but after a few months of threatening to feed the father to his pigs, he eventually gave in. Now all this I learned from him in the five minutes before we got on the bus. Where he chose a seat next to me. And talked at me for three hours. Whilst drinking two bottles of whisky. In all honesty, I could probably write the guy's biography but I wouldn't want to deny him the chance to make some quick cash, so I'll just give the highlights.

1. Bricktop was previously married to a Spanish woman, with whom he had three kids. Bricktop explained that his ex's inlaws were all Spanish Mafia and that his second eldest son would soon inherit all Bricktop's property and businesses, as soon as he had 'made his bones'. When I stared blankly at him, he explained that this meant the son had to kill someone. I was sure I'd already seen that film.

2. Bricktop lives in Bangkok and has all his suits tailor made with holsters inside the breast. He also carries a 50 thousand volt taser, though he didn't have it with him (weak). This didn't stop him demontrating to J how he would "put you down, boy" and that if either of us felt that the electric shock wasn't sufficient, he would have to shoot us. Tough love.

It was a sad parting when we left Bricktop bargaining drunkenly for a bus to Bangkok and took our own to Krabi. Krabi is a southernly Thai town, which serves as a jump-off point for various beautiful islands and local beaches.

Krabi Town

Our entry to Thailand was something of a test, which we naturally passed with flying colours. Firstly, the border guard, having stamped our passports, demanded 10 baht for what he called "overtime" but which we quickly realised was more like a corruption charge. He was in the army though, so our bargaining posture was highly dubious. Secondly, the journey from the border to Krabi was only two hours, but we were tortured by the driver showing a Thai gameshow on the bus TV at full volume. The show predominantly consisted of various sketches using regular characters, which all seemed to involve copious violence toward women. This is clearly high entertainment to the Thais (and they are liberated enough to admit it). Well, after this draining experience we were less than pleased to be dropped off (dumped, is more apt) five kilometres out of town, with all our bags, and no more taxis running that night. However, no sooner had we been let down by the Thais, we were given hope by them: a local guy pulled up in his car and offered to take us into town. For free. Quickly forgetting everything our mothers ever told us about Stranger Danger, we jumped at the chance to get into the man's vehicle (without even the offer of sweets) and save ourselves the tough walk we had anticipated. Luckily he was not a rapist, but a local doctor, and he dropped us off on the main drag, allowing us to find a guesthouse with minimal hassle.

Having checked into a local hotel (in actual fact, all the guesthouses were full or closed for the night) we grabbed some hawker (roadside food vendor) food and went looking for some exciting entertainment, Thai-style. The best we could find was a lively bar where five English guys were playing pool. Little did we know that, over the next two weeks, we would cross paths with those fated five Londoners many, many times and have some truly excellent adventures.

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Photos

Tana Rata, Cameron Highlands.
Unusual architecture.

Father's Guesthouse.
Summer Camp?

Cream Tea At The Manor, Malaysia.
Quaint.

Scorpions.
Don't.
Move.

AIDS
Bad. 5 fruit and veg a day, please.

Tea.
Tea.

Swiss Hotel, Penang.
Dingy.

Batu Ferrengi
Peaceful.

Batu Boys
Hot new signing. Many male fans.

Parasailing.
Tap X to pull up!

Comments

[Tasha]

beaches
Malaysian beaches aren't substandard, they're just not as nice on the west coast... u missed out on paradise by going to malaysia in december/january - the east coast is literally the best place in the world from may-october. oh well :P

[Mr. Boucher]

Pip Pip
My my you gentlemen travellers of the world seem to be having a jolly old time. My only hope is that you uphold the traditions of the empire and wear only the finest harris tweed (plus fours if hot).