Return to Malaysia

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'Salamat Datang' - 'Welcome', to Malaysia and the Cameron Highlands
8th December 2008

Malaysia - Kuala Lumpur to the Cameron Highlands

It's another public holiday in Malaysia. At the last count, there were 14 such 'holidays' for one Religion, National celebration or another, throughout the year. This week it's Raya Aidiladha, or Hari Raya Korban, a Muslim festival marking the end of the hajj pilgrimage period.

Perhaps it's all these holidays that keeps this mlticultural society at peace. They're playing Christmas music in all the shopping malls in Kuala Lumpur: White Christmas (some hopes!) and Jingle Bells, the shops are bedecked with tinsel and Santa rides his sleigh around the Christmas trees, swathed in lights ten floors above us. The shops were busy on Sunday, escalators ferrying people in all directions, cheerful faces, smart retailers, big names, open shop-fronts, market stalls, youngsters out spending their money whilst the retailers are giving big discounts - hoping to hold out until the economy recovers. It's the same the whole world over it seems.
Peace and Goodwill appear to survive as bed-partners here on the surface, hand in hand with the Commonwealth and memories of Colonialism, but Chinese and Indian drivers, in the confines of their taxis, were quick to let us know there is an undercurrent of - not so much unrest, but rather dissatisfaction, with the favours of government towards Islam, the official religion of the federation. A typical political/religious cocktail.

With no motorhome, we have been forced to slum it in order to get to our next planned destination, The Cameron Highlands. Taking to the hills is a very British thing to do when high temperatures and humidity take their toll in this tropical climate - and trekking through air-conditioned malls eventually becomes monotonous. The British built some fine repro Tudor houses up in the cool air of the Highlands in their day, and surrounded them with rose gardens and picket fences. We'll be staying a couple of nights at The Lakehouse, a rather grand example of the era, a 'Tudor-style boutique Resort' built by a retired British officer, the brochure told us.

This, our second stopover in Kuala Lumpur in recent weeks, provided us with the opportunity to see a little more of this good natured country, with a three-day tour into the hills, organised before our departure from England many moons ago. We expected a mini-bus and a handful of other travellers at least, but a golden Mercedes arrived at the door of our KL hotel, The Parkroyal, the doorman ushered us into our seats and our journey began - just Janice, me, and our delightful, effusive, Indian driver, Selvan, our guide for the next 72 hours. The car doors closed, the doorman saluted and Selvan started talking. It's a four-hour drive to the Cameron Highlands; the first two, on Tolled motorways, and then the long winding road rising steadily through the rainforest, up and up into the misty clouds. Selvan talked solidly for four hours as we drove: Malay history, Malay politics, Malay culture, Malay food, and of course, religion; turning his head round towards us intermittently and gesticulating with his hands off the wheel as we went.

Selvan dropped us off for a while a short distance out of KL, at the Batu Caves, whilst he went off somewhere to meet the locals over breakfast. We had previously read about these caves, being caveaholics, but we had not expected them to be included in our tour. Selvan was already earning his keep.
A 43m high (140ft), gold statue of Lord Murugan, a Hindu deity, greets visitors at the entrance to the caves, gleaming in the sunlight when we arrived gently perspiring in the humid windless air. Worshipers and visitors must climb the 272 numbered steps to reach Cathedral Cave, the largest of the many limestone caves here, a magnificant 100m high at its centre, where there are now several shrines. Around a million Hindu worshipers gather at Batu each year in late January/early February, to celebrate the festival of Thaipusam, making it the site of the largest annual gathering anywhere in the world.
It's not the height of the tourist season in Malaysia; we were just two white faces amongst a few hundred worshipers, many in vibrant saris, families with children and scrounging macaque monkeys picking at coconut shells.
Batu is indeed a spectacular place for worship, but water drips constantly from the cave roof, gathering in splashing puddles, on dark slippery steps, on monkey excrement, and bright-coloured cockerels peck amongst discarded tit-bits in the dim light, making this a somewhat unpalatable place for those who would venture here in bare feet - as many do. Perchance devotion is blind.

It's often said, 'it's who you know, not what you know;' and Selvan seemed to have his finger on the button - and he speaks all the right languages. He took us into tiny villages where Chinese and indian piece workers were hand-making large baskets from bamboo for fruit and vegetable harvesting, and then to visit an aborigine family in their all bamboo home, built on stilts for ventilation, with elderly mother ternding a stone fire at one end and several men and lads seated, cross-legged, at the other, making blowpipes for sale at the local market. We didn't buy a blowpipe from them, but for a small backhander we were treated to a poison dart blowing demonstration! It's incredibly accurate - and deadly.
'You want a try?' Selvan asked. I'm sure they would have let me.
There are still thought to be some 130,000 aboriginal people in Malaysia, hunting with blowpipes and foraging for food and a living in the jungle, but the government is working hard now to bring them into new basic homes on hillsides along the road.
Our minds turned back to Kenya way back, when we visited a local village of mud huts surrounded by thorns to keep the lions at bay, where the only family posessions were a goatskin rug and a plastic bowl. There were no tangible posessions here either.

Back on earth and in our own real world, we made our way to 'The Lakehouse' at Ringlet, a grand lodge in all its spleandour, 1500m above sea level, with all its comforts of airy rooms, fine dining, fine service as one might expect and real beds. When I say beds, I mean beds - three of them in our suite, an upgrade for us special people with English passports we presume, home-from-home and all that - and me without my tweed jacket indeed. The four poster was most impressive, there were two more in the adjoining room, with a private dining table, dark oak furniture, tartan curtains, dark beams, laticed windows, wing chairs; the bathroom - so 1960's, still in that pleasantly decaying English style of chequred black and white tiles, toilet and taps of another age to-boot. Afternoon tea was served on time at 3.30 in the lounge before a roaring log fire, (it's still 20C outside!) and petits-fours arrived at our door before the gong sounded for dinner that evening. Luxury indeed after such a day's experiences!
The view from our window looked out over neat gardens to the market stalls, the road and beyond, to the chocolate-brown lake fringed with water hyacinths where herons, rails and egrets cautiously stalked their prey, and a hornbill passed, squawking, above our heads seeking out a roost for the night.

We were attracted to the Cameron Highlands by the thought of seeing tea plantations for the first time, and Selvan took us to higher ground next morning, up through the terraced fruit and vegetable fields perched on steep hillsides, in miserable drizzle, though cool and pleasant at the same time. The area is famed for its delicious strawberries, now grown hydroponically under plastic, mostly by the Chinese. Finally, the tea plantations came into sight, great lines of neatly trimmed bushes, waist high, rolling across the hills in haphazard lines like Hampton Court Maze. Many of the bushes, a member of the camelia family, were planted as long ago as 1929 when the tea was harvested predominently by Indian women, replaced now by low-cost male labour from Indonesia and modern machines. It's a lovely feeling, standing in the cool crisp air of the mountains, their tops cloaked in misty morning clouds, filling the mind with a perfect reproduction of those pictures of tea fields in National Geographic seen as a child, fulfilling another dream, another small pocket unhinged, of a thousand things to see and do before.......
No visit to a plantation would be complete without a factory tour, we're told, so, we did as we were told by Selvan and trooped into the BOH Plantation factory, along with a few hundred locals enjoying the holiday atmosphere and doing what even Malaysian holidaymakers do, including taking the kids out for the day. Here at nearly 1,700m the temperature is constantly mild, between 16C and 23C, and rainfall averages 260cm, (about 102inches) pa. It's doubtful we could grow tea in East Anglia, but if you fancy a good cuppa, pop by sometime and if there's any left, we might treat you to a Palas Supreme or BOH Gold Blend.


Lunch was taken, a little late, in downtown Brinchang at an Indian restaurant, joining local Malays in happy-holiday mood in a banana-leaf speciality, (no plates here!) for around £3.50 for two - a hearty meal, (including drinks). Late that evening we ventured into the local village for dinner, opting for local atmosphere and culture lessons at the 'See Wu Restoran' rather than English food at the hotel we can get back home; splashing out on their best selection. It was, without question, the finest Chinese meal we have ever eaten, for the grand sum of MR45, about £9, for the two of us. It's no wonder the restaurants are all full every night - the cheapest bottle of wine in the hotel was £15! Here at the See Wu restaurant, (sorry, restoran) we discovered an interesting local - or is it pan-China? practice of taking tea before the meal.

The British left behind a legacy of the English language mingled with some interesting spelling, much on the lines of American English. Restoran, for example, is Malay spelling for Restaurant. Farmasi, is Malay for Pharmacy, Teksi for Taxi, and Sentril for Central. It does make sense - don't it?

To complete our picture of country life in the hills, Selvan took us to see the Buddhist Temple near Brinchang. Even Selvan has some admiration for the Chinese, their Buddhist faith and the glory of red and gold with which they clothe their beliefs. We are always mesmerised by the devotion and dedication of worshipers in these temples wherever we may travel. A passive air of tranquility hangs over the whole area within the walls, the heady perfume of joss-sticks, dragons and golden images of Buddha, orchids - flowers everywhere, koi carp in the pool, gifts, offerings of fruit, people silent at prayer. All very serene and touching.

These last few days have enabled us to piece together a few more segments of the jigsaw that is Malaysia; from here on the Peninsular and beyond, to Borneo where we stopped off en route out to New Zealand three months back. There have been so many unexpected cultural delights on our journey and some extraordinary encounters with wildlife, alongside glimpses of politics, religion and the fragile balance between Malaysia's ecconomy and ecology. I guess that's why we travel. You're never too old to learn!

It will be good to be home. That's where the heart is, they say. It's also where winters are damp, dark and cold. Welcome us back, from early summer in New Zealand and the tropics of Malaysia. Brrrrrrr!


David and Janice The grey haired nomads
A Merry Christmas to all our readers!

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Photos

Back in Kuala Lumpur
The Twin Towers - all glass and stainless steel

Kuala Lumpur
The Christmas Sales are on - hoping to set the tills ringing!

The Lakehouse
Remnants from Colonial days

Batu Caves
Lord Murugan - a colossal golden figure sparkling in the morning sunlight

Batu Caves
taking the 272 steps to Cathedral Cave

The Cameron Highlands
The bamboo home where we met the aborigine family

The Cameron Highlands
Aborigine home. Mother at the open fire at one end

The Cameron Highlands
the poison blowpipe. "Would you like to try, Mr David?"

The Lakehouse
Our four-poster bed

The Cameron Highlands
Our first view of a Tea Plantation

Lunchtime in Brinchang
Tandoori, Sir?

Brinchang
Buddhist Temple

The Cameron Highlands
Strawberries. A local speciality

Comments

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A perfect article with a nice read
LOved reading the article. Malaysia is truly a b'ful place :) The article has litrally made me to plan my next trip. The pictures have added charm to my temptations :) Thanks