Malaysia: Truly Asia   2005-02-15

This journal entry is a slight change of pace. Rather than write a great deal about our holiday, as I did for our trip to Rota, I'm going to let the photos do most of the talking. We didn't have a "Programme, Now!" on this trip, as we did on Rota, so there aren't a lot of stories to tell. Most days blended beautifully together in a wash of swimming, snorkeling, and relaxation.

There are a lot of photos (45) embedded in this journal entry. Consequently, especially for those of you using a dial-up connection, it may take a while for the page to fully load. Hopefully you'll find the wait worthwhile!





We're back from a fantastic holiday in Malaysia. We went to the island of Perhentian Besar off the east coast of peninsular Malaysia. There are loads of islands off the east coast, but Perhentian Besar (Big Island) and Perhentian Kecil (Small Island) are two of the most well known (for good reason - they're absolutely stunning). The two islands are about a forty-five minute speed boat ride from the east coast town of Kota Besut.





The Malaysian flag.





A squid-fishing junk off Perhentian Kecil. There's a narrow strait between Besar and Kecil and a number of junks had dropped anchor in the relatively calm water off Kecil. At night, the boats would chug into open water, turn on their 1,000,000 watt, supernova lights, and harvest the curious squid fatally attracted to the surface.





Selamat Datang is Malay for "welcome!"





Our seaview A-frame bungalow at Paradise Island Resort (PIR). It was clean, basic, and costing only $15 USD a night - quite delightful. If anyone ever decides to take a trip to the Perhentian Islands and wants to stay on Perhentian Besar, we would highly recommend booking a bungalow at the PIR. The owners (Anke and Mike) are friendly and helpful, and it's located next to Coral Bay (the best spot for swimming and snorkeling).





There's no air-conditioning inside the bungalow, but there is a wall-mounted fan right above the beds. There's also no hot water, but after a day spent in the blazing sun a cool shower is the only kind worth having. The bed and pillows were a dream. Our "mattress" in Taipei is so hard we've had the ocassional bruise when we've woken up. No such luck here though. The foam mattress was just firm enough and the pillows cradled without cricking.





Our friendly roommate.





After swimming and snorkeling all day we'd come back to the bungalow, have a quick shower to freshen up, and spend an hour or so before dinner reading and relaxing on the balcony.





The view from the balcony.





There were two older couples from Slovenia staying at PIR during our stay. "Mr. Slovenia! 1954" (in his blue Speedos from dawn to dusk) and his friend would often wander up and down the beach muttering in Slovenian. I don't think we ever saw "Mr. Slovenia! 1954" go swimming, but he sure liked standing on the beach in his Speedos - hands on hips - and a straw fedora.





This is a 360^o photo of the courtyard bungalows at the neighbouring Coral Bay Resort. We cut through the courtyard on the way to and from the beach. Notwithstanding the close proximity of the bungalows the courtyard had a very private feeling to it.





The "Romantic BBQ House" at the Coral Bay Resort (CBR). The restaurant at the PIR had recently burned down (I'm not suggesting anything, but it was the only restaurant on the island that served alcohol in an enclave of strictly observant Muslims. How they reconciled the Schnapps sipping, pig knuckles munching presence of "Mr. Slovenia! 1954" I'm not sure.) so we had lunch on the "Love Boat" everyday instead.





We met this lovely family on the speed boat ride from Kota Besut to Besar. From left to right: Laura, Lee, James, Iven. We ended up spending a great deal of time with them during our holiday. We'd meet up for some snorkeling and lunch in the afternoon, and again in the evening for dinner at the beach-side CBR restaurant.

They're Australians living in Kuala Lumpur (KL) who'd come up to Besar for the Chinese New Year's holiday. There's a large population of Chinese in KL and like every city/country in Asia with a large Chinese population everything shuts down for the week so people can spend time with their families or travel. Time, schedule, and money permitting, we'd like to visit them in either KL or Australia sometime in the future. Thanks for the good times Wood-MacLeod!





The beach-side restaurant at the CBR where we dined by candlelight under the white smear of the Milky Way. Huge fruit bats gave us a start during our first dinner when a few of them zig-zagged low enough overhead that we heard their papery wings scraping the air. NB: Team Klassen, I didn't notice "boiled fruit bat" on the menu so perhaps that craziness is reserved for your part of the world.





So much depends on the red bucket glinting with sun on the dock.





Two of the cutest little Danish girls you're ever likely to meet.





Three raggamuffins who took great pleasure in jumping into the water en masse.





Taking a closer look at just how far down the water really is.





The raggamuffings hightailing it back to the beach.





Marlene on the wooden pathway leading over the jumble of rocks and vines that seperate the two halves of Coral Bay beach at high tide.





A glimpse along the beach from the pathway.





We spent hours practicing our dives off the end of the jetty. At high tide, when the water is deep enough to dive into, it's about a six foot drop from the jetty to the water. Six feet may not sound like a lot, but when you're standing on the lip of the jetty psyching yourself up for the first dive it seems like a loooong way down. (Launching yourself head first into the unknown blah blah blah. Except in this case the unknown was crystal clear. But still ...)

The dives were going fine until the father of the two cutest little Danish girls you're ever likely to meet swam over. He climbed up and joined us on the end of the jetty for a dive. His first dive - quite good. His second dive - very good. His dives were a little more graceful than ours.

We complimented him on his diving and asked him if he could do a back flip into the water. "Well, it's been a while," he said, "but I'll give it a try." Yeeeah, his back flip - perfect. If the well muscled Dane could do it, so could I. I walked to the end of the jetty and stood with my back to the water visualizing the dive.

If the water seems like a loooong way down when you're looking at it, imagine how much father it seems when you're not looking at it. I stood there. And stood there. I was going to do it. It was only a matter of when. The Dane was looking on. After several long minutes I sprang off the jetty backwards without warning. I saw a rush of sky and then nothing. I hit the water before I knew what hit me. The Dane flashed me a smile. "Not bad."

He stood at the end of the jetty and effortlessly launched himself over the water in a perfect pike position. A pike is when your hands touch your toes when you're diving. Just before entering the water he straightened himself out and slid into the water with barely a splash. Marlene and I nodded to each other. Not bad.

So, taking another one for Team Hutzulak (not that it was a contest, but when something looks that easy I can't help but try it), I climbed up onto the jetty and prepared to pike. I don't remember much after that.

Marlene is still laughing. Mostly she laughs when she thinks about the yell. Somewhere between leaving the jetty, realizing it had all gone horribly wrong, and hitting the water, something loud and strangled escaped my lips. Picture, if you will, the chalk outline of someone after they've been hit by a bus, thrown through the air, and landed on the pavement in the fetal postion. That's how I hit the water. The Dane was gracious enough to pretend he hadn't seen anything. It was only later we found out he's a diving instructor.





The jetty.





The jetty. What can I say? It was the focal point of our afternoons at the beach. When we weren't swimming out to sea or snorkeling among the coral or lazing on the beach we were hanging around the jetty.





Under the jetty at low tide.





A 360^o photo of Coral Bay beach taken from under the shelter at the end of the jetty.





One for the folks back home.





Style.





Grace.





Hanging out. Unfortunately the disposable, underwater camera we used failed to adequately capture the magic of what it feels like to snorkel and dive in warm, clear water.





Fool.





Foolish.





Diving down for a closer look at the coral. The snorkeling (and SCUBA diving) here is incredible. You can walk out the front door of your bungalow with mask and fins in hand and take in some of the most impressive coral and fish in the world.





Fish.





Fish. And lots of them. The one heading straight for the camera kept on bumping up against my mask. First time funny. Second time silly. Third time - it's on the grill at dinner.





A sea anemone. There were loads of clown fish hanging around the clusters of sea anemones.





"Nemo! Don't talk to strangers."





A magnificent sea turtle in flight. We spent a few afternoons snorkeling with the turtles that live in the waters around Coral Bay. They glide slowly along the sandy bottom feeding on sea grass most of the day. This guy was about thirty feet down and in no hurry. We followed him for quite a while - surfacing for a breath of air every once in a while. Interestingly, turtles also have to surface for air. Every fifteen minutes or so the turtles would push off from the bottom and slowly rise to the surface of the water. When their snouts broke the surface they'd grab a very quick breath of air and then fly back down to the bottom. Incredible.





Nothing screams panic like a shark sighting. I thought I was going to drown when I was washed down the frigid mountain river on New Years. Yeah, that was nothing compared to gulping down a huge mouthful of water when Marlene spotted this six or seven foot black tipped reef shark cruising towards us. The best part was there wasn't just one shark cruising towards us, there were two. I swallowed so much water I couldn't breath. I mean I literally couldn't breath. I had to surface and try to grasp for some very reluctant air.

With the sharks circling us below, me gasping for life above, Marlene did the only sensible thing and used me as a shield. There are three things Marlene thinks aren't right in this world. One of them is swimming with sharks. I agree, but I'd do it again.





The Ideal Guest House (IGH) in Kota Bharu. We flew into KL from Taipei and then caught a domestic flight from KL to Kota Bharu. From Kota Bharu we took a taxi to Kota Besut, from which we took the speed boat to Perhentian Besar. We stayed at the IGH the first night we arrived in Malaysia, and again the night before we flew back to Taiwan. If you're only staying in Kota Bharu for one night, the IGH is fine. It's cheap ($6 USD) and the owners, again, are very friendly and helpful.

There's not too much to see or do in Kota Bharu. It's a small, coastal town almost on the Malaysia-Thailand border. We spent our time there wandering the streets, and checking out the central market. What a market! I've seen some amazing markets, but I think this one takes the cake.

It was a flurry of men, women, and children selling, buying, cleaning, and chopping. In one section women were selling fried sweets and pastries (of which we bought a few salty/sweet samosa looking things - delicious); in another they were selling all sorts of fruits and vegetables. In another section loads of fresh fish and seafood were flapping or oozing about in buckets of ice water. In yet another section men were chopping and hacking away at sides of beef strung up by dirty hooves, and chickens recently beheaded and in various states of undress.

Picture this taking place in the early morning with the sun pouring in through the windows high up on the domed ceiling of the sprawling market. It's hot outside, maybe 30^o, and hotter inside even though there are big porticos letting a faint breeze waft in from outside. The muzzeah is calling the people to the mosque for prayer with his undulating sing-song chant. There's a babble of cries and shouts back and forth between the aisles of people buying and selling. And there are flies - flies everywhere. Old women sit on top of the tables with banana leaves swishing them slowly from side to side to keep them from landing on the food. The smell. Hard to describe, but like most markets a mixture of blood, waste water, and spices. Unfortunately I didn't have the camera with me, so you'll just have to picture this instead.





Our room at the IGH. It actually looks a lot cozier than it really is.





The view from our room at the IGH. It's really not to bad if you have the curtains drawn.





The world's worst bathroom you have to spend money on to use? You decide. "Where's the toilet paper?" you ask. Just use the small, red bucket my friend. Just use the small, red bucket.





The only casualties of the trip. Happily they've since recovered.





A picture perfect ending to a picture perfect holiday.

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