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Published: April 13th 2009
Day 278: Friday 3rd April - Leaving Singapore behind for Malaysia
As I’m getting ready to leave the hostel in Singapore, Ibrahim gives me a parting gift. He also offers to come with me on the bus to the border as it is custom in his homeland. I accept his gift but as much as I appreciate his offer to come to the border with me I won’t allow him to come - I know where I’m going after yesterday and it will eat considerably into his day. We part with a handshake and a vow to keep in touch and you never know, one day we may meet again.
My journey to Kuala Lumpur is straightforward. First I catch the bus to the huge building that houses Singapore immigration at the border, get stamped out of Singapore and then board the bus again to cross over the causeway to Johor Bahru and into Malaysia. Next, it is the formality of Malaysian immigration. A similar huge building, but straightforward, I get three months, no questions asked. Given the size of the two buildings at the respective border crossings, this is obviously a well frequented route used by Malaysians, Singaporeans
and foreigners alike, but it is so easy. Through the Malaysian border I have to wait for the next bus as I didn’t get through immigration quick enough to board the one I came on. I don’t wait long and soon enough I’m at Larkin bus station in Johor Bahru. A tout heads straight for me as I get off the bus offering a ticket to Kuala Lumpur. That’s exactly what I want (the bus not the tout!) but he is less than honest in telling me when it leaves. He says it goes in 10 minutes at noon, but it is 1pm before it starts out of the bus station. I’m not surprised as this is exactly what it was like in Indonesia, however I have all day to get to Kuala Lumpur, so it is no big deal. At least the bus is air conditioned and has plenty of legroom to stretch out as I wait, but it would have been good to get a proper meal instead of a rubbish sandwich if I had known I had a full hour before the bus left. The journey to Kuala Lumpur takes 4 hours, is comfortable, includes a couple
of toilet/refreshment stops and is on a modern highway which cuts through palm plantations on both sides. If all travel is like this in Malaysia it will be bliss in comparison to Indonesia!
Arriving in Kuala Lumpur I head through the streets surrounding Chinatown to Petaling Street which is where I’ve agreed to meet Mike and Trudi at the hostel they’re staying at. Petaling Street is home to a bustling street market and I have to push my way through all the stalls selling cheap replica clothes, wallets and watches. I arrive at the hostel to find that they have no room in the dormitory due to the Grand Prix being in town this weekend. A Belgian guy, Jan is leaving as I arrive and we decide to take a triple room they have together as he says he’s tried a lot of guesthouses in the area and they‘re all full. I soon find Trudi and Mike and we chat about our experiences over the last couple of weeks since we parted in the Gili Islands. They also found Indonesia tough going so it is interesting that I’m not the only one. We get dinner in Chinatown, which is
a cramped pressure-cooker of sights and sounds, and has a great atmosphere. The restaurant we eat in can’t get anything right but it is great catching up with Mike and Trudi again. We’re all here to see the grand prix and we talk about getting there tomorrow. They’re going early and making a day of it, so I say I’ll meet them there as I want to look around KL first in the morning and then get to qualifying which starts at 5pm.
Day 279: Saturday 4th April - A day I wish had never happened
Before embarking on my trip a number of my friends warned me about the dangers and annoyances that I would meet travelling the world. My response was always “I’m sure something bad will happen, I just don’t know what it’ll be or when it will happen”. In other words I was intent on enjoying living my dream and would deal with any incident when it happened. You can’t possibly prepare yourself for every possibility, and you wouldn’t want to as that is a lot of the beauty of travelling. For the last nine months, nothing serious has happened, my experience has been
99.9% positive and yes I’ve been careful but mainly I haven’t had to worry and it’s been about having fun. Today, though is that day, that bad incident, an experience which will stay with me for a lifetime. This is painful to recount only three days after the event but in the interests of this blog being a full, accurate and truthful account of my travels around the world I will share it with you.
First, I will describe my morning which was the start of another enjoyable day, or at least at the time that is what I thought. I got up, had breakfast and then made a beeline for an internet cafe. I printed my ticket out for the grand prix and tried to move my flight to Kota Kinabalu back one day. It was going to cost 145 Ringgit (£30) so I decided against it. I will now have one day hanging around Kota Kinabalu on Tuesday before climbing Mount Kinabalu rather than Kuala Lumpur which seems more interesting and there is more to do here. It doesn’t matter really though as I will need to come back to KL as it is the country’s transport
hub. I then catch the monorail across the city to KL Tower. KL Tower stands at 421 metres, but is not even Kuala Lumpur’s tallest building, although the observation deck in the highest in the city. At 38 Ringgit (£7) it is on the pricey side (For Asia anyway) to go up to the observation tower but the views across the city are amazing. You can see Merdeka Square, where Malaysia’s independence from Britain was proclaimed in 1957, a number of Mosques, skyscrapers and all the usual sights of a city. The two highlights though are the Petronas Towers and the Batu Caves which can be seen in the distance on the outskirts of a city. I decide to get a closer look at the Petronas Towers and walk the short distance through the city to see the twin towers which weave together traditional Islamic symbolism with modern sophistication. At 452 metres, they are the highest twin towers in the world, and currently the third highest skyscraper in the world. In the basement of the towers is a Formula One car promoting this weekend’s grand prix and with the time approaching midday I need to start making my way back
across the city. First, though I decide to go through the towers and take a picture from the back amongst the gardens and lake. This is the start of a sequence of events I wish hadn’t taken place.
Walking in the gardens, a Malaysian girl comes towards me. She is friendly enough and soon I am joined by another girl, both appear to be in their twenties. They are sisters, or that is what they tell me. There English is good and the conversation starts off innocently enough....When did I arrive here? What am I here for? How long am I staying? Where am I from? ....all the usual stuff. I tell them I am from the UK, at which point they tell me they have another sister who is going to England to study at Manchester. I then tell them that I studied in Manchester. They then ask if I would mind coming to their house where their sister is to talk with her. My only reservation at this point is the time, but if I don’t stay long I should still be okay to get to qualifying at the grand prix which starts at 5pm, but will
take up to two hours to get there. I’m also thinking that I have shunned a number of opportunities to get closer to the locals on my trip for one reason or another, usually time, so because of this I’m more willing than I would otherwise be to go along and try to be helpful to this girl.
Getting in the taxi with the two girls is my first mistake. However, they are friendly, speak good English and appear to be middle class so I don’t have too many reservations. It takes about ten minutes to get to their house. Their sister isn’t there and they tell me she is at the hospital with their mother and will be back soon. They offer my lunch, some Malay food and I talk with the two girls and a man who is introduced as their uncle. There is only one other person present in what appears to be a normal, suburban, middle-class home, an older woman who spends most of her time in the kitchen, who I can’t recall ever being introduced to. The conversation flows, they ask me what I do back home, I ask them what they do, they
ask me about my travels. The uncle tells me he is going to the grand prix tomorrow and that he works in a casino. After the meal is over, he tells me that he knows a sure fire way to win at Blackjack. ‘Would I be interested to find out his method?’ he asks. With no sign of the sister yet, I agree as it seems harmless. He then leads me into a small back room where he proceeds to show me how to win at Blackjack against another player..... by cheating. His method involves him playing as the dealer, me as one player, the other player as the banker. He then shows me covertly what card is next, and through hand signals what my opponent has.
I don’t even play cards much, never mind go to casinos and play blackjack. Never in my life have I ever played blackjack for money at a casino. I’m an honest, hard-working guy and like to think of myself as a logical, intelligent person who is switched on and is far from naive. Not this afternoon. Before I explain the next part of the story, I should say at this stage for
the first time this afternoon I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable. I’m not a cheat and have no interest in cheating at cards to win money. This makes the next stage of the story which plays out over minutes even more inexplicable. The uncle (Ali is what he tells me his name is) proceeds to tell me he has a client of his from the casino, a gentleman from Brunei who is coming to play Majong (a Chinese gambling game) at his house with another player. Minutes later he pops out of the room and returns informing me that this other player isn’t going to turn up. He then tells me that this guy from Brunei loves gambling, is a rich businessman and comes to Malaysia every weekend to gamble at his casino. He goes on to say that I could play blackjack with him, insinuating that between us we could cheat this man out of some money, and split it 50/50. At this point I am feeling extremely uncomfortable, and why I didn’t take this opportunity to make my excuses and leave for the grand prix I don’t know.
Before I have time to come to my senses and
think this through, a smart dressed gentleman, supposedly from Brunei enters the room. I am now sat facing uncle Ali, the gentleman introduced to me as Mr Malik sits to his left, and one of the sisters sits to my right. I am at the opposite side of the room to the door, and a combination of this and the fast moving sequence of events which don’t allow me to think clearly, make me feel trapped and out of control. Somehow, I agree to take part in a game of blackjack. I have little money on me so the uncle lends me $200US. I have never played cards for this money in the UK, and never would but for some reason I agree take the money and buy some chips to start the game. The guy from Brunei pays in with $2000US and the game starts. I feel terrible, why am I letting myself cheat in a game of cards to win some money? I don’t know how I allowed this to happen? I don’t think I’m greedy, but maybe I am? Later, I consider was I drugged? I don’t know the answer to that one. Possibly, but I don’t
think so, but I don’t know. What I do know is that at this point my mind is working overtime to try and work out how to get out of this situation. I am hoping that there will be a moment an opportunity where I can get out of this madness. That opportunity never arises, or rather it does, it is there all the time but I’m too caught up in what is going on at the time to take it. About 5 hands later, me having lost only one (as you’d expect as I know what his hand is and what card is coming next), Mr Malik announces that he has another appointment and that this will be the last hand. The chips are stacked in my favour.
In the last game I know he has 20, I have 11 which I then make 21 with a picture card. His chips are running out and I think at this point (actually I think it was before the last hand started) he decides to buy some more. Seconds later my eyes almost pop out of my skull when he drops a wad of US dollars on to the table.
$40,000 he says.....I’m now starting to panic. What have I got myself into......this is way over my head. Get out, get out, is the alarm bell going off in my head. I even remember that the sequence of gambling goes to a stage where I could have forfeited the hand and still have been left with the 2 chips worth $200US that I started with. I could have tried to leave at that point, no-one would have lost. But, I didn’t. Recounting this tale I realise how many opportunities I had to try to get out but I declined to take. Greed, stupidity, both?? Anyway, before I know it he has gone all in with his $40000, and the uncle is offering me some credit to stay in the hand. Why didn’t I say no......why didn’t I get suspicious of the fact that the guy from Brunei was allowing me this credit line? I suppose I thought that he had a good hand, it is just with 21 I knew I couldn’t be beaten. Were the cards fixed at this point? They must have been although I shuffled them at the start. I don’t know for sure. Seconds later and
with me buying some chips on credit that I can’t afford I match his bet and the pot stands at $82,000US. I will win half of this - $41,000!!!! At this stage I’ve gambled with only 300 Ringgit (£60) of my own money. I don’t even want to win money this way and my brain is doing overtime about what to do with the money. I’ll give it to charity that’s what I’ll do, the next thing I find myself thinking is how am I going to deposit $41000US in cash at a bank, without an account and without them becoming suspicious. Oh why oh why did I not think more clearly at the time?
Mr Malik has allowed me to buy some chips (almost $40,000 worth!) on credit but when the pot stands at $82,000US he wants to see more evidence of my assets and ability to pay the bet should I lose. He is entitled to win the game now as I can’t back the bet up with cash but he’s a gentleman or so he says and will allow a postponement for me to get the cash. I have no way to get the money and
I don’t know what to do. But, Uncle Ali is on hand to take me out of the room for a moment to give me some advice, and tell me what to do. Why isn’t Mr Malik getting suspicious with all these interruptions? Why isn’t he suspicious of my ability to pay? After all I’m not dressed like a professional gambler or even a man with the means to pay. Why don’t I realise at this point that it is me that they are trying to cheat out of money and not Mr Malik?? Why, why, why?? My head is just a scrambled mess, trying to work a way out. Unfortunately, I don’t work out the exit....stupid, stupid me.
Next, we have agreed to a postponement in the game of several hours. We both seal our cards in separate envelopes and hand them to Ali to keep them secure in a locked drawer of a filing cabinet. Uncle Ali will go off and try to raise some capital from his boss/manager/whoever. At this point I’m thinking this is genuine as he has $40,000 to gain. I will go off with his driver and two of the sisters (the one
apparently going to Manchester still hasn’t appeared, but a step-sister has whilst I’ve been playing cards), to try to raise a bit of capital. Anything will help says Ali, ‘some cash from my debit card or by buying some jewellery on my credit card as evidence of my assets...together we’ll see what we can do’. I get in the car with the two girls and the driver. Cleverly they keep me talking all the way to a shopping mall which must take the best part of an hour to reach. Talking so I don’t have time to think. All of the time I’m trying to get my head around what is happening and find a way out. In hindsight, arriving at the shopping mall is when I should have got out. It’s easy with hindsight though, so easy. I should have got out of the car, made my excuses that I needed the toilet, had time to think things through and then used a taxi back to Kuala Lumpur as my escape route. What would I have lost? 300 Ringgit or £60 but I would be safe at least. But, no I compound my situation by first withdrawing the equivalent
of £300 on my debit card and then by buying a diamond ring at the jewellery shop for almost £4000. All the time I am uncomfortable, but I don’t seem to be able to resist the forces to stop this happening. The two women are in my face throughout, never giving me a moment to think.
With ring and money in hand we drive back to the house, which again takes almost an hour. I’m starting to think why didn’t I do what I described in the previous paragraph to get out, but now with about £4000 capital tied up in this I feel even more trapped. Ali calls on the way back to say he has managed to get $15,000 himself. When we return to the house, Mr Malik has just arrived but Ali is still on the road. A few minutes later he arrives, and the next minute we are all sat around the table to conclude the game of cards. I show Mr Malik the receipt and the diamond ring and the 1500 Ringgit, Ali says he has $15,000US but Mr Malik trusts him and doesn’t want to see the cash. I consequently don’t see what
the brown paper bag contains myself. I doubt there was ever $15,000US in it now though. Mr Malik is not happy that we are still $20,000US short of raising the capital, but being a gentleman he grants a further postponement until Monday. Again, Uncle Ali takes me out of the room and assures me he will be able to get the rest of the capital over the next two days. Returning to the room, I then lose my senses completely and somehow agree to leave a £3700 diamond ring and over £300 cash at a guy’s house I have never met before today. This is perhaps my biggest mistake and one that as the story plays out I never have the chance to correct.
Minutes later and I am shaking hands with the two guys and the girls and the driver accompany me in the car back to Chinatown. Despite having grave reservations about everything that has happened over the last 5 hours, I’m still thinking when they drop me off that they will be there two days later to pick me up and take me back to the house to finish the game. My head is completely scrambled,
all through the afternoon they have barely given me a minute to think. My first thought when I get back to my hostel is that I need to speak to someone close to me. I daren’t tell my parents the story as I’m ashamed of my behaviour this afternoon. I still haven’t realised that I’ve been scammed and in my mind I’m going back on Monday to deceive a wealthy businessman out of $40,000. As I said before, I don’t think I am greedy or dishonest but it is through displaying these characteristics that I have got myself into this mess. I turn instead to my best mate, Mr Patrick in my hour of need. Two hours on the phone to him helps me realise that I’ve just fallen for one almighty, elaborate scam. He has later said that initially I wasn’t acting or talking like my normal, logical self so he suspects that I may have been drugged. I don’t know but eventually I realise after talking to someone all the obvious tell tale signs that I have retold above and that must seem obvious to the reader, but at the time I didn’t see them. One of the
giveaway’s is the address that they have given me which is Jalan(street in English), Dimakita ( a made up suburb) Ipoh ( another city in Malaysia), Kuala Lumpur (no shit Sherlock, that’s one thing I do know is that this city is KL).
My initial feelings when I realise it is a scam. 1) Relief that it is all over and that I won’t be cheating anyone out of money. 2) Angry and disappointed that I allowed myself to be scammed. 3) Angry and upset at losing a considerable amount of money. 4) Disappointed to miss the qualifying for the grand prix. But, probably most of all 5) Disappointed and ashamed of myself for being initially greedy and prepared to cheat someone out of money. On the phone to Andy I joke that this is only costing a penny a minute, whereas my afternoon of stupidity has cost me over £13 a minute. I need to laugh, otherwise I would cry. After finishing on the phone to Andy I start to think about the implications of what happened this afternoon. I am one stupid, stupid person for allowing it to happen (and I don’t need anyone to tell me
that), nor do I want anyone’s sympathy. I got myself into the mess, I will have to deal with the consequences. Thankfully, I work out that it shouldn’t curtail my future travel plans, but my main concern now is not the financial impact but the mental scar. I hope that it heals and doesn’t affect the remainder of my travels but I don’t know. Right now, I am at a low point for my trip without question.
I’ve dropped a note under Mike and Trudi’s door to give me a knock when they return from the racing at Sepang. I need to have a beer with a friendly face to drown my sorrows. Unfortunately, it is late when they return so no beer, but I explain what has happened. At the end of the night, the three of us vow to have a great day at the grand prix tomorrow to take my mind off the disaster today. It is 2am when I last look at my watch after tossing and turning for an age with an endless stream of thoughts, questions and emotions going through my head. The top and bottom of it is I’ve thrown away £4000, and I’ve nothing to show for it but a bad memory. This is money that could have been used to give me many lifelong happy memories from travelling, could have made a considerable dent in the costs of a future wedding or paid for my child’s education.......but today unfortunately I was with my alto-ego.....Mr Stupid!!
$%^&&*!”£$%^&*&^%$£”!”£$%^^&%$£*&^%$£”!”£$%^ (that’s me swearing).....I wish I could turn back the clock 24 hours and start today again.
Day 280: Sunday 5th April - Trying to forget yesterday at the Malaysian Grand Prix.
Today is another day, one I’ve been looking forward to since I bought a ticket a week ago. It is the Malaysian Grand Prix and yes I have a ticket...cool! This is the perfect tonic to forget yesterday. Myself, Mike and Trudi make our way first through KL and then catch the bus to Sepang , an hour south of Kuala Lumpur. It is hot and sticky in the city, and has been since I arrived. We arrive at the circuit in time to catch the second half of the GP2, the junior series to the Formula One. Standing on a grass embankment, we have a great view of the back straight and two of the main passing corners on the circuit, which is highly rated by the drivers. The noise for a first-timer to a motorsport event is incredible. It starts to rain and the race is exciting in the wet conditions. Two drivers collide on one of the corners we can see and spin out. After the GP2, the weather improves and the track starts to dry out. There is another race - a BMW series before the F1 driver’s parade in a bus around the track about an hour and a half before the race. Throughout the afternoon it has got steadily hotter and sunnier. However, we can see the rain clouds and forked lightning in the distance as the start of the Formula One race approaches at 5pm.
With the weather looking like it will turn the three of us are excited that we will get what we want - a race in the wet. We are joined on the grass embankment by Thomas, a Polish guy who cycled all the way from Poland to India and who has flown into Malaysia to support Poland’s most famous sportstar, Robert Kubica. The three of us are supporting Jenson Button, who sits on pole position and Lewis Hamilton who is way down the grid, the two Brits in the race. I have some banter with Thomas that Kubica is going to crash out on the first lap, he retorts with some jibes about how badly the British drivers will fare. I love this about sporting events where two fans supporting opposing drivers/players/teams can have fun with each other without any aggression. Hearing the roar of the 20 cars pass us as they do their formation lap, cranks up the tension and excitement further......I’m looking forward to this. As the race is about to start, Bryan a Cockney stood with us (he roomed with me last night) informs us that the commentary on the radio has just said that the rain is 12 minutes away.....perfect, just what we want for an exciting race.
The race starts and by the time the cars get around to our section of the track, Button has lost a few places and Hamilton looks like he’s gained a couple. Rosberg leads the early part of the race until the first round of pit stops but the cars are tightly bunched and there’s enough action in the first 15 or so laps to keep everyone entertained. Kubica retires in front of where we’re sitting after 1 lap due to a mechanical problem, much to my amusement and Thomas’ disbelief. He looks dejected, but remains good hearted as I give him a ribbing. After the first round of pit stops, Button regains the lead after a few scorching laps. He starts to pull away, before it starts raining, lightly at first, but enough to make the cars come in for some intermediate tires. The next 10 laps are brilliant, chaos reigns, some cars are on full wet tires and there is plenty of overtaking action. Button is extending his lead by about 4 seconds a lap and Timo Glock is cutting his way through the field - both clearly on the right choice of tires. The rain then starts getting torrential, the race slows to a crawl and the cars seem to be in the pits for tires every other lap. Eventually with the track conditions horrendous the race is stopped, with the lap times probably double what they would be in the dry.
The rain doesn’t really let up so 50 minutes later and 10 minutes before the scheduled finish the race is declared over. It is only the fifth time in Formula One history that a race hasn’t been able to be completed. It may have lasted just 31 laps of the scheduled 56, with the cars racing for just an hour, but what an hour. It is one of the best races I’ve ever seen and even better, I saw it live. Amidst confusion over finishing positions, Jenson Button is declared the winner and Lewis Hamilton comes seventh. The rain finally eases and myself, Mike and Trudi enjoy the British national anthem to celebrate Button’s win.
The drivers may love the modern circuit and we’ve just witnessed a great race but that apart the Malaysian Grand Prix struggles as a major international sporting event. The transport to and around the circuit is badly organised and there are no rubbish bins anywhere around the circuit so by the end of the day litter is everywhere (thankfully it isn’t windy so it can’t blow on to the track). In addition, information on the race is nowhere to be found and directions around the course telling you where to go leave a lot to be desired. A Scottish guy I sit next to on the bus tells me that Malaysia will lose the Grand Prix in the future when Abu Dubai comes on line - I’m not surprised. The start time of the race is also a crazy decision. I’m not a local but after spending the past couple of months in the tropics, I do know that the one time that it is most likely to rain and usually torrentially is in the late afternoon.
This is before the after event party which proves to be a farce. We walk around the course to where the gig is being held to find that there is one entrance where hundreds are trying to get through. The entrance is pointless, they don’t even look at your tickets. Once inside the venue resembles Glastonbury. The grass has turned to a mud bath with all the rain and there is a smell of sewage. You don’t know what you’re walking in and with the mud so thick underfoot, in the end we resort to walking barefoot...yuck!! Jamiroquai is the main act and we’re expecting them to be on at 8:30pm. Instead, for an hour or more we’re treated to some absolute trash, DJ’s who haven’t a clue how to put a set together and a band which doesn’t play any instruments making all the instrument noises using the microphones, which doesn’t work. This totally kills the party mood for me and by 9:30pm, with no sign of Jamiroquai I’ve had enough and leave without the other two. As I’m leaving Jamiroquai belatedly make an appearance and I stay to listen to the first two songs. They’re not really my bag so I make my way to the bus stop.
An hour later, and I’ve got about 100 metres! Initially, I was sent to the wrong bus by the stewards. Then, having found the right bus I was told that this was a VIP bus only which I ignore and climb aboard anyway. The bus does a circuit around Sepang (not the race circuit!) and drops us off about 100 metres from where we got on! It’s then on to another bus which this time takes us back to KL. By this time, all public transport has stopped as it is approaching midnight. I decide to put to the test all the literature that I’ve read saying that KL is a difficult city to navigate around on foot. It must take a good half hour to walk back across a number of busy roads and some poorly lit areas but I make it. I agree it isn’t an easy city to get around by foot, and on reflection it was a daft idea to walk across KL alone at midnight in a strange city, especially with what happened yesterday.
Day 281: Monday 6th April - Hoping to get away from it all in Borneo
My flight to Borneo isn’t until 2pm, but the airport is next to the Grand Prix circuit in Sepang, 60 km South of the city. So, I start making my way there in the mid-morning. Before I leave the hostel I check my e-mail. There is nothing from my acquaintances from Saturday bemoaning my non-appearance....strange that one!! After reading all the literature on similar scams happening in South East Asia with almost identical stories and circumstances to mine, I never had any doubt that I was scammed. There is an e-mail from Patters telling me to be careful about card fraud. This is one thing I hadn’t thought about at the time but now I’m concerned that the security on my credit card may be breached. However, at the moment I need to get to the airport so I have to wait 2 hours until I can make the call to my credit card company. This is a stressful two hours on the monorail and then the bus thinking the worst that I may have been defrauded out of some more money. My concern emanates from the fact that the jewellery shop took a copy of my passport and credit card when I made the purchase. If they are in cahoot with the scammers then I’m in big trouble. Thankfully, when I call my credit card company they have put a stop on my credit card after ‘that transaction’!! and so there is nothing to worry about. The fraud department isn’t open as it is only 6:30am UK time so I will call them later, when I reach Borneo.
The flight is delayed two hours due to a torrential thunderstorm which lasts for a couple of hours. All this waiting around isn’t good, I can’t stop thinking about Saturday’s events, how stupid it was. Mentally I am beating myself to a pulp, this is no good I need to put this behind me. Hopefully, the beautiful natural wilderness that is meant to Borneo is the perfect place to be heading. I arrive in Kota Kinabalu, the capital of the Sabah state in mid-evening. I need to make this call to the fraud department of my credit card so I check in to my own room. This is the first time I can recall I have done this when there is the option of a dorm. Despite the extra expense it is a wise decision, I need my privacy. I cancel my credit card and hope that this whole unfortunate episode is over.
Day 282: Tuesday 7th April - A day spent getting my head together
I get up early to talk to Patters back home but our conversation gets disconnected due to the crap internet connection at my end. I’m gutted as this guy has been an absolute saviour to me the past few days. Mate, if you’re reading this, you know already but I can’t thank you enough for your support. I suppose I am in Borneo so dodgy internet connections are to be expected. The rest of the day I sort myself out ahead of the climb of Mount Kinabalu tomorrow. I pack my daypack for 5 days on the road in the mountains and the jungle. I also sort out a few remaining minor issues as a result of Saturday. But, most of all I think and reflect. This is the worst thing I can do as by the end of the day I’m feeling really low. Saturday has drained my confidence, scrambled my head and a cloud hangs over my travels now. Even during my walk around the streets to clear my head I find myself moping around. This isn’t me....even after a setback I’m normally so positive and always looking to the future. When I’m on a low, who do I turn to? Usually my parents, who I’m very close to. Initially, I avoided giving them a call out of embarrassment and shame, but they need to find out sooner rather than later so I give my mum a call. This is just the lift I need, and I come off the phone feeling tons better. My mates and family are really important to me no matter where I am in the world. They have been a great help and a massive support these past few days. Without them I don’t know if I could go on. With them I could climb mountains, and that tomorrow is just what I am going to do.
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Stupid Mk 2
non-member comment
Me Too!
Dude, I've just come back from Cambodia and had exactly, exactly, the same scenario pulled on me. The sister was going to be coming to my home town of Brisbane to volunteer as a nurse. The Mr Malik character from Brunei, the amounts ($40,000.00 U.S.), the extended credit, the whole lot. They got $3,000.00 U.S. out of me and fucked the start of my first overseas trip. Then I return to Australia and there is a message on my mobile's message bank ('cause before the game I've given contact details for the sister on the strength of the volunteering experience in the coming year) from a colleague of Mr. Ronald (the dealer) saying that "he had been one of the people who had lent him the money and did I remember the incident?" I replied that all my dealings with Mr. Ronald were done. Then I decided to Google "Mr. Malik" and there's your story almost word for word the same as mine. Commiserations, I don't know if I feel better or worse. Cheers Nick