Perhentian Islands

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The advice I received on Ko Phi Phi was "that is a simple journey with a quick change, easy really, should take about 6 hours". The reality was that after 6 hours we were dumped in a bus station in south Thailand, if in my previous posts I had complained that it was all a bit easy and how everywhere was populated by westerners, I was getting my penance. The bus station was dusty and chaotic, luckily the locals were friendly and helped us through the complicated bus ticket purchasing process, where you queue for a voucher, which you swap for a ticket and then for a boarding pass. I am however pleased that the bus that picks us up is an air conditioned mini bus. Three hours later, after numerous police and army checkpoints, we arrive at the Thai/Malaysia border, on the bus I was reading a magazine, which had entry requirements for Malaysia, on of which is 'at least months remaining on your passport' I check the date, 6/7/9, the expiry date on my passport is 4/6/9. I wonder which official im going to get the lazy just stamp you through or the over officious 'rules is rules type'. Its dark and starting to rain, I look around the boarder town, its deserted, no sign of any type of hostel/hotel, nobody stops here. The official takes a while and looks like he is thinking about something, this does not look good, eventually he smiles and hands my passport back, internally I breathe a sigh of relief, externally I smile and say thank you. we go through a check point and across a bridge over a murky river with 4m fences either side, for the first time since I have been away I feel isolated, with a sense of adventure, this feels like the start of my time away, as if I have just left the west and with it my comfort zone. On the other side of the bridge there is another office, where they take our temperature to check for swine flu, they did the same as I entered Thailand, do they do this in the UK? I was then given more forms to complete, then it dawned on me, my internal joy in the last office was a little premature, I have been stamped out of Thailand, crossed no mans land and now im about to enter Malaysia, this is where they are going to check my passport. The man behind the counter takes my passport, and then counts to six on his fingers, I freeze, while all the time I keep smiling. Stamp Stamp, "thank you". No, thank you.

Its late, our bus only takes us to the boarder, the busses on the other side have stopped. Me and the two other westerners on the bus will have to take a "short cab journey", a 70km/50mile/hour and a half cab journey to Kota Bharu. We meet a Norwegian who is going that way, and the 4 of us split a cab. Although Kota Bharu is the state capital it is far from a sprawling metropolis, about 11 pm, the streets are empty and the city quiet. Our taxi driver drops us of outside a travel center which is conveniently open, I wonder who our driver was on the phone to earlier? The agent arranges accommodation for the evening and sold us bus tickets for the next day. We found a Malaysian cafe that was still and sat amours the locals with some delicious noodles.

I catch a boat to Kecil the smaller of the two islands, the beach is a perfect crescent of white sand backing onto a scattering of wooden hand built bars restaurants and bungalow guest houses, which in turn back onto the jungle with snakes 2m monitor lizards but no roads or cars. There is no motorised transport on the Perhentian islands other than the boats which act as taxis to the other villages scattered around the coast, at 4 in the afternoon you see the children hop from the boats on there way back from school. All of this is surrounded by hypnotizing lapping turquoise water. As well as the locals we also shared the island with 2mter monitor lizards, Geckos and countless rats. I was looking forward to my time here.

If the island setting was luxurious the accommodation was the opposite, a hand built shed on stilts, with a stale smell that I think came from the filthy sheets, the shally come with a shared toilets and bathroom but I suspected that previous occupants had used the whole in the floor. The went to the toilet/shower block to shower and go out, I stood naked as cold water poured down from the tap above my head while the mold climbed from the floor up the walls. I met the two guys I had traveled over with where they introduced me to monkey juice a kind of rum served by the bottle with separate cans of coke. I woke up dehydrated/thirsty and boiling. I glugged down the water, and had to step outside into the bright sun slight. It was significantly cooler outside. I walked back into the hut, the temperature soared, I felt by body pump out sweat in a futile attempt to cool me down. I looked around and noticed that the internal part of the roof was corrugated, it was tile, the same as the outside, it had not been insolated, I touched the roof, it was boiling, tile conducts heats, I could not touch it for more than 5 seconds without the heat forcing my hand away. With the wooden shutters that act as windows and the door shut I was in a confined space with a heat source, I was in an oven. I checked out, the man asked why I explained about how without being fussy I did not want to sleep in an oven, "but you have fan" I was going to explain how convex oven work my giving a more equal cook, but didn’t bother. My next place had the most important feature, a tile roof, with a wooden internal ceiling. it struck me that there were bizarre market forces at work, the room was 50RM per night is the most I have paid, except for a room in Thailand, witch had cable TV, air conditioning and a roof top pool, people attempt to get away from the crowds in search of a more rustic experience, but this comes at a cost, the more rustic the more expensive, the less facilities the more you are charged.

The next night I introduced two English girls I had met to monkey juice, and they introduced me two a drinking game that they were clearly experts at, I got hammered in both senses. Then a Malaysian man introduced me two a funny looking cigarette, which had a couple of effects, first was the desire to lay on my back and look at the stars, the second was that the girls had to carry me home.

I booked a snorkeling trip one afternoon with three main attractions, black tip sharks, again, sea turtles, which I was very excited about and a coral garden. Me and Two Australians boarded a small rowing boat with a engine attached to the back, the 'captain' was a very kind man, and let us drive his boat under his watchful supervision. Our first port of call was the black tip sharks, although I have done this before they are still sharks, how many times do you have to cross a road without looking before you get run over? We all got in the water and our driver headed down the bay and told us to swim to him, the sharks would be along the coast line. Within a few minutes we saw a schole of about 5 sharks, although the species of shark was the same as on Ko Tao they swan differently, quicker, with more menace, while I had felt reasonably calm last time this time I was panicked. The Australian girl was really un happy we have a movie fear of sharks, Australians have a morbid fear through living with sharks. I looked up the boat was about 100m away, not really much choice than to swim on. As we saw more and more I cooled down and began to appreciate they power and beauty. Then a shark raced underneath me, coming from behind and overtaking me it was hunting a black fish, I realised for sure that if one chose to attack I had absolutely no chance, I didn’t see this until it was directly underneath me if it was coming for me game over. I decided to stop looking for sharks and just head directly back to the boat. When we saw another group of about five black tips, including a baby shark, this made me very uncomfortable, as everybody knows all animals are unpredictable when they have they young with them and I have no idea what a shark may perceive as a threat, I stayed still, motionless, my heart pounding, when something caught my attention to my left, a shark at surface level coming straight at me, what had caught my attention was his motion to turn away, their eyes are on the side of there head, this shark had swam up to within a few meters and had then turned to have a look at me, its eyes are dead, they portray no emotion, I was petrified, then it was gone, whether it was coming to have a look through curiosity or was warning me off I don’t know but I did not want to spend any more time than necessary in the water and headed straight for the boat, as I got there two separate groups of sharks crossing each over I counted 11, crossing and circling each over and the boat, as much as I did not want to be in the water I did not want to attract attention to myself as I hauled and splashed my way out all dangling legs and commotion. I waited for them to pass before getting out.

Next turtle Bay, luckily im not afraid of turtles, Auntie Mo used to have a tortoise, and these are just bigger and live in the sea, and most importantly don’t have teeth. We swam around for a while and I feared that I would not sea one, then right in front of me, the most majestically absurd creature I have ever seen. They are huge, and look like they don’t belong in the water, yet when they glide they look like their flying, with the flapping of their fins where their legs should be animated in nothingness. I followed them around for a while, in awe of there beauty, but also laughing at there stupidness. They sink to the bottom and eat the crap of the sea bed, before returning to the surface for air every few minutes, I could not help but think how unsuited they are for life in the sea, they really should have joined their brothers and sisters on the shore.,

We then headed off to the coral which is just of a public beach with loads of people in the sea, very beautiful with all the usual bright colours and tropical fish, then 3 sharks shot passed, towards the beach. Unfortunately there is no climactic end to this story, it just amazed me that people were swimming completely unaware of the (un) imminent danger.

A couple of days layer I was in the sea when I heard someone shout 'Nate', I looked it was the driver from our boat. I was chatting to him for a while, and told him how much I had enjoyed the tour the other day and that I had recommended him, he said that he had spent the day taxing people around the island as the resort was full. I was asking him about his life he was told me that he lived in a village just around the pay with his wife an four children. I asked if he planned to have any more, he said no, four was enough, two boy and two girls, he explained further that one or two is not enough, because if one dies then you are left with nothing, but with for if one dies although very sad at least he has others, it made me sad, but he seemed to accept this as a way if life although he made a little prayer sign when he said it. In the UK infant mortality is something that we never worry about yet although devastating he accepted it as something that may happen. We talked for ages about all different sorts of things he is one of the nicest people I have ever met, and why not, he lives in paradise, and has a wife and four lovely children. After a while I wished him well, and sat on the beach and watched him, at 41 he played in the water like an eight year old like he probably has done for every day of his sun kissed life. My heart sank, the poor man, his children were 9,7,3 and1. They were having children every 2 years, where was the 5 year old? I just could not believe that they left a four year gap, this is not a society where you wait until you can afford a four bed. although I felt sorry for him, it was way of life and he was much happier than lots of people that I know.

I went out for dinner with two Austrian guys who were in the cabin next to mine, together with two Mexican girls who lived in china and a Belgian. After dinner we went next door to the shisha bar where I had lost so badly at the drinking game a couple of nights previously, the two girls were there, together with a couple of Swiss, some Dutch and some guys at the end of the table I didn’t get to talk too. As we were sat there I saw the two Danish girls I had dinner with the previous night walk past, we had made half a plan to meet, but more of a its a small island see you tonight instead of see you for dinner at 8. I called out but they didn’t here me and they went into the bar next door that was empty apart from a couple of Malaysians. a little while later one of them, Maren, came out and walked past again and into the panorama bar, where I had been with them the night before, guessed that they were looking for me so got up and asked her to join us, she went back got Trina and sat down and passed around the shisha.

In the distance we could see the horizon lighting up followed by the clap of thunder, then the heavens opened, we and just about everyone else at the open air shisha bar ran into the previously empty bar next door, the staff horridly ran around getting extra tables, it was now party night. The Mexicans, Belgians, Austrians, Swiss, Danes, English, Dutch, and a Welshman salsaed on the beach while the heavens opened and the lightening brought momentary blue daylight to the beach like a disco light. As the night wore on, the unexpectedly busy bar ran out of alcohol, the only drink they had were bottles of vodka, but no mixers, we bought one anyway and a Malaysian man we had been talking to said he would get us some orange juice. while we waited Maren told me that she used to work in a zoo, and when she entered the monkey cage they had to know she was king monkey, she then taught me how to speak monkey, lots of eye blinking and smacking of the lips to show friendship and a ARWOOF sound while making your self big and jerking forward to show displeasure. Our friend with the orange juice didn’t come back so the three of us headed down the beach with our vodka. We walked passed a bar called the Safety Stop, the DJ was amazing, but there was no one there but a hand full of Malaysians.
-Hello im Tiger from KL
-Hello Tiger
-come and join our party
-ok, do you have any mixer for our vodka

he explained that the DJ was a famous Malaysian DJ from KL, who was on holiday in the Perhentions, he had asked to play at the safety stop as last year it was the best bar on the island, but the shalley that accompanied it had burned down, hence the lack of people. so me, two Danish girls, tiger, and drunk assie and a handful of Malaysians danced the night away on the tables to the most famous DJ in Malaysia.

We spent the in-between days, chilling on the beach, and having a wonderful time, I was not sure where to go next, Borneo or tioman islands with the girls, I tossed a coin, Tioman.

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