Malazier - Day 1
Part of the trip -
Malazier
One Man, a backpack and a lazy stroll through Malaysia
What better way to mark the turning of a new page in life than disappearing off on an adventure. I have been careless enough in the last seven weeks to lose a girlfriend and a job all at the same time. Is this a journey of discovery or some sort of ‘find yourself’ holiday? No. It is simply two weeks on the road with my backpack and a chance to bore a new group of people with the same old stories. Who knows? Maybe I will end up being part of some new stories.
I have come to the realisation that the human body can survive on four hours sleep a night and still function. I have no idea how long this will last but I am pretty sure that I am not going to push these boundaries too far. After waking up far too soon in a bed that was far too comfortable, it was downstairs to tuck into the last Bacon I am likely to have for the next two weeks, sporting shorts for the first time in months and letting my legs loose on an unsuspecting world.
The trains to Malaysia leave from the north of Singapore and the drive out reminded me just how lush and green that this place is and even though they have five and a half million people crammed onto an island the size of Waiheke, there is a surprising amount of green space. Woodlands is the site
of one of two links with the Malaysian mainland. There should be more, but the relationship between Singapore and Malaysia gets a little strained at times. It has something to do with the Singaporeans not buying enough water from the Malaysians, who in turn, won’t give Singapore enough sand to build more land. There is probably a bit more to it, but you get the drift.
The trauma of getting through Singaporean customs went smoothly enough and I then had to go through the same thing getting into Malaysia. If anyone had planted anything in my bags, then both sets of scanners missed it. My introduction to Malaysia was a waiting room at the station where you had the choice of a red or blue plastic chair. I opted for red and quickly noticed that all the other westerners had gone for the blue ones and the locals had gone for red also. Was this like a wedding where you had to stick to your allotted side? There were also four rooms off the departure hall. Most were self explanatory; Cashier and Immigration were fairly obvious. My one concern was that the Quarantine room was a normal office with the door open. At least it was empty at this stage of the day. The last room had usefully been labelled ‘General Purpose Room’. You always need one of them.
I have never been one to turn down the opportunity to upgrade and had opted for the First Class ticket for my six hour journey to Tampin. Upon boarding, I was glad that I had splashed out the extra eleven pounds. I was not brave enough to go and check out the second class cabins. The seats were as tired and dated as Joan Collins, but slightly more comfortable and all part of the charm. My fellow passengers were a mix of the usual tourists in that there was a middle age English couple who looked a little lost, the scruffy Australians and the American who was being very important on his phone at full volume. Still, it was a nice feeling to be on the road again as we rumbled across the causeway and onto the Malaysian mainland.
Heading north, Malaysia seemed to initially just be a procession of car dealerships and fast food joints. But this slowly gave way to rolling countryside of palms and an amazing array of vegetation (read I have no
idea what trees they were) which give way every now and then to towns. After a couple of stops, the carriage was full and I still had not been brave enough to venture down the back. Normally, I am pretty good at seeing what is going on in economy when I am travelling, but today I just could not be bothered.
The further north we got, the more the oppressive cloud that had hung over Singapore dissipated and it was time to crack out the sunglasses and hat. It really started to feel like I was on holiday. To lighten the mood further, I got the pleasant surprise of not only getting a bigger seat for my eleven pounds. I also got a small bottle of water and a soggy egg sandwich (which was actually pretty good). Melaka is not actually on the railway line north and getting here involved getting a bus from Tampin. I foolishly assumed that said buses would depart from the railway station. I was informed by the very important looking man with a flag on the platform that the buses went from town. This involved me haggling for several minutes with a taxi driver over seventy five pence and eventually subsidising two other passengers on their way into town. It was very generous of me. I should have seen this one coming, as getting ripped off by a taxi driver somewhere in the world is as predictable as an Eastenders plot.
Today turned out to be a day for wrong assumptions as the bus I jumped on to Melaka stopped at the bus station which is conveniently located four kilometres from town. The taxi market here was definitely a seller’s market and after a protracted negotiation, I paid the original asking price. This was four times what I had just paid for a forty kilometre bus ride. But I had made it.
Melaka is just the same as any other Chinese/Portuguese/Dutch/Indian/Malay town anywhere in the world. The mixture of influences is amazing and the other bonus is that is does not have an Irish pub anywhere. I have had a quick look around but am going to save most of the adventures for tomorrow.
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