July 15th to 17th
Cameron Highlands, Malaysia
I am enveloped in fog that has surreptiously rolled across the cluttered garden whilst I was showering and has now settled as a fine haze mingling with cigarette smoke from the nameless European backpackers. Having hiked today, enjoyed a sumptuous lunch and hot shower I am decidedly content and have no further plans than to attempt to write this blog and perhaps loll in front of the television here that offers a brief connection to all that is trivial in the world today.
We arrived in Kuala Lumpur early Thursday morning after a restless night aboard the train from Singapore. Having been on a number of overnight trains I had expected a decent night sleep only to discover that despite clean fresh beds of reasonable size the combination of heat, light and jerking movements transpired to ensure no more than 30 minutes of light sleep at a time. Heaving my bag onto my back we headed up the lift to the heart of KL central station to find our bus to the Cameron highlands, the sign on the platform said buses were on level two and the lift only went to level two so it appeared we were on a fast track to our next destination. One hour later having completed reconnaissance to each corner of the station and followed numerous competing instructions we admit defeat in the quest to find our bus which apparently lies somewhere near a seven eleven and a mobil petrol station on either the ground, first or second floor. Thankfully we head to the main bus station and book tickets for the ten thirty bus to Tanah Rata in the Cameron Highlands which although eliciting a concerning cacophony of creaks and groans gets us there in one piece.
Our first full day in Tanah Rata sees us booked on a 70RM tour which promises a remarkable variety of activities including trekking to see the Rafflesia which is the largest flower in the world. We are picked us in a minibus and find our group for the day is a group of twelve on tour together, 2 Dutch guys, Anusha and I and we discover that of the group there are five of us that have abandoned employment for travel which is the first time we have run into others who’ve done that. The first stop on the tour is an Aboriginal village with a blowpipe demonstration which allows me to jinx the blowpipe as each person before me had managed to hit the target and I showing my concerning lack of lung capacity prove that I would fail miserably at catching food using the blowpipe. The blowpipe is a long pipe which unsurprisingly you blow through to shoot a poisoned dart at your prey. The Aboriginal village is a little sad as most native villages seem to be when caught between the remnants of their traditional lifestyle and the dregs of modern living that they are afforded.
From the Aboriginal village we have a 4km off road drive in a jeep that has seen better days to begin our hike to the Rafflesia. Originally when I heard off road I thought nothing of it, having only vague memories of off road driving on my Uncle Rod’s farm as a child. As soon as we began I realized that I had either never actually done any off roading or had been so terrified I’d blocked the memory. The road was a dirt track that had been turned to mud from days of rain with deep jutting ridges from previous cars that created at best a bumpy ride and at worst a deathtrap hurtle with precarious slips and gravity defying tilting. I was seated in the back which comprised two bench seats facing each other with just enough space to allow you to wedge your leg against the seat in a vain attempt to stop being catapulted towards the ceiling with each bump. Being as I was in fear of my life I began to laugh hysterically which seems something of an inappropriate reaction. Eventually we arrived and each of us staggered off the jeep thankful for our lives and ready to start the jungle trek. As the day’s activities were so numerous and given any previous tours I had been on tended to overstate gentle walks as ‘treks’ I was woefully unprepared for the hike that followed. Ninety minutes of climbing encompassed steep slopes, rivers deep enough to warrant removing shoes to wade across (partly because I was not fleet footed enough to attempt to bound across the rocks jutting unevenly across) and mud. Lots of mud, red mud, orange mud, mud that appeared to be hard dirt but infact was soft enough to allow your foot to sink down to the laces, mud that splattered up onto your pants up to your knees. Eventually with sweat running down my face (briefly pausing to cling to my eyebrows like misguided dew drops) we arrived at the Rafflesia. The Rafflesia is only found in parts of south east asia and blooms for just six days, It is the largest flower in the world and upon first opening emits a powerful unpleasant odour. It is around 60cm centimeters wide, pinky orange with a spiked center and surprisingly attractive in an otherworldly manner.
After reaching the Rafflesia we begin the journey back down the muddy terrain ensuring that any inch not covered in mud receives a fine splattering and that the one shoe Ieft dry from the uphill journey gets submerged in the river. We arrive back to the jeep and after another journey where I ponder the best manner of escaping a rolled over jeep we discovered that despite having trekked uphill and through rivers and it being a mere 7 hours since breakfast there is no lunch included in the tour. From there with empty stomachs we make our way to the tea plantation which thankfully has overpriced sandwiches and beautiful vistas across the rows of tea trees. Lastly we head to a butterfly and insect garden which convinces me that visiting an area that encloses hundreds of fluttering creatures is probably not the best idea for someone who has a deep seated fear of things that flutter towards her head with malignant intent. The young guide seems to delight in each tourists reaction to the giant horned beetle that he arranges like a brooch upon their top. Admittedly I was too much of a wimp to allow a beetle that appears to have survived since prehistoric times anywhere on my top so as per the photo below I opted to hold it on the sugarcane which is it’s food and look extremely apprehensive in each picture as if it may suddenly leap on my face and start gnawing away. We finally head back to our accommodation and after a hot shower head to dinner with a cute dutch guy to discuss the different legality of drugs and fireworks in Holland, Asia and Australia.
The next morning we rise to set off on walking trail number ten which an English guy at our hostel had assured us was an easy flat path with a slight climb at the end from which I learnt a valuable lesson, NEVER trust overly tall people in respect to their description of trails. If you are two metres tall walking uphill is a lot easier than if you are normal height or at least that’s all I can figure given trail number ten consisted of an hours uphill hike to reach the summit and look out over the Cameron Highlands. Despite there being four paths heading off from the summit after attempting to walk down each of them we soon discovered a dead end at each until eventually we began a trek down what looked like a flood control rivelet. This eventually brought us to behind an electricity station where it abruptly ended leaving us to climb between the overgrown jungle and ten foot fence to reach the road. To celebrate making it out of the trekking alive we headed to “ The Olde Smokehouse” for the best roast beef I’ve had in a long time and to bring down the standard of clientele (the ppl at the table next to us enquired about helicopters back to KL).
Tomorrow we head to Teman Negara to attempt to see Elephants and other wildlife.
