Indonesia and crossing the equator for the first time!

Boy am I far behind on this thing.  Here we go.

On November 4th, I left Penang on a short hop flight down to Medan on the island of Sumatra in Indonesia.  As always, I didn't do a ton of research, and didn't really know what to expect.  Turns out that Sumatra, despite its proximity to very touristed mainland Malaysia and southern Thailand, doesn't see many tourists at all.  I kind of got that same rockstar feeling that I had when I visited the Philippines for the first time.  Hardly anyone spoke English, but I got a lot of huge smiles and very friendly people shouting "hello mister!".  A few people knew a couple other phrases, such as "where are you from?", "where are you going", and "what is your name?".  At first I made the effort to answer their questions, but it quickly became clear that they didn't know the meaning of what they were asking or understand my answers.  Eventually I just smiled and said hello as kids rode past in the beds of trucks screaming "where are you frommmmmmm?" as they sped by.

My fancy hotel in Medan

I'm a little embarassed to admit that I pulled a HUGE white guy move in Medan.  I had a real early flight the next morning, and planned to sleep in the airport instead of checking into a hotel for only 8 hours, and then leaving at 3:00am in a city I was unfamiliar with.  This left me with the dilemma of what to do with my big backpack for the 6 hours or so that I would be spending walking around town.  The airport didn't offer left luggage, so I decided to pull the race card.  I walked from the train station to the tallest, fanciest looking hotel I could find and asked the concierge if I could leave my luggage with them.  Since they don't see a lot of white visitors, they were excited enough to have me that they didn't even question it.  I made it clear that I wasn't staying, but they said no problem.  We even have a spa upstairs where you can go for a sauna, swim, or shower if you want.  Somehow I'm guessing that the average guy off the street doesn't get offered that.

Of course, I didn't get great sleep in the airport, but at least I had a quiet place to relax for a few hours.  The flight to Padang was easy, and it marked my first crossing of the equator.  I had it in my head that I'd done it a few years ago on a trip to Ghana, but a quick look at the map shows I wasn't even close.  Padang is significantly smaller than Medan, and is famous for its spicy food.  Jackpot!  I fumbled my way through a restaurant interaction with probably unintelligible Bhasa Indonesia and frantic hand waving.  First real night in Indonesia done!

Gaining weight in Penang

Before leaving Tanah Rata, I took one last jungle waterfall hike which ended in me finding a large, red, egg-sized beetle plodding it's way across the trail.  I got closer to take a look, and it immediately popped out wings and flew right up into my face with a terrifying buzzing sound.  Pretty much the end of my walk.  I didn't scream, despite what the two girls a short way down the trail might tell you.

EE Beng

I got kind of a late start, and ended up taking a bus to Penang instead of hitching like I'd originally planned.  It was definitely a change from quiet little Tanah Rata, but I couldn't wait to eat my way through what might outdo Singapore as the food capital of the world.  Maybe Mexico City has to be in the running too...  Found a decent hotel, and started wandering the streets.  I'd planned to save it for later, but accidentally found my way to EE Beng Vegetarian Restaurant, which was recommended to me.  I stepped inside, filled up my plate from the trays of random, unlabled food, and took it over to an old woman who started mumbling to herself and turning my plate around and around.  She finally spit out 6 ringgit, which is a little under $2 for a heaping plate.  I was starving when I got there, so that might have something to do with it, but that could have been the best plate of food I ever had.  No clue what I ate, except that it wasn't meat.  Well done EE Beng!

Thanks Penang.  I'll be working this food off for a while.

I measured my time in Penang in terms of meals, not days.  I stayed for 12 meals, and tried as many restaurants and street stalls around the city as I could.  I had roti and sambal (the most perfectly cooked indian flatbread), grilled chicken with peanut sauce, classic Assam Laksa (a noodley soupy dish), chicken rice, fried noodles, fried rice, fruit juices of all kinds, a coconut milkshake, and a wide assortment of unknowns from the nasi kandar restaurants.  It was a bit difficult not speaking the language, and I think I got hustled at Line Clear nasi kandar restaurant.  You get a plate of rice, and then a nice indian man just starts heaping sauces, gravys, meats, and maybe a few vegetables on top.  He started out pointing to each item asking if I wanted it, and then just started giggling to himself and pouring everything on.  In the end, I brought the plate to a stern looking guy who eyeballed it for a minute, and finally said 15 ringgit.  It was still under $5, but probably twice what I should have paid.  Started to argue with him, but didn't really have much of a leg to stand on.  What's an extra $2!?

Line Clear restaurant.  Note the HUGE pots of curry.

I did my best to only eat one meal each day at EE Beng, and skipped the indian restaurant with the LED readerboard that said, "Please come in.  We try our best!"  I almost gave them the sympathy vote, but there were just too many other places to try.  To work some of the food off, I rented a bike and rode out to the nearby Kek Lok Si temple. My bike was comically undersized, the brakes were questionable, and I got a lot of locals pointing and laughing at me once I got out of the city.  Totally worth it, though.  As I pulled back into my hotel, a large group of Chinese bikers zipped past me.  They're all decked out in their spandex gear, and fancy helmets, and look totally out of place.  In the silence that followed this large group, an ancient Indian guy slowly rode past on a wobbly bike that squeaked loudly with every turn of the wheel.  It looked like he might fall asleep at any moment.  Typical SE Asian contrast.  I should have completed the moment by riding away on my tiny clown bike.

I found this store funny.  It's not clear what the heck they're selling, but somehow important that they are twin brothers.  Penang, and Malaysia in general, was littered with stores like this that I couldn't figure out what they sold.  Everything inside would be a greasy, oily black color.  The walls would be stacked with what looked like car parts, old typewriters, random electronic junk, and large jugs of some mystery liquid.  Invariably, there would be a woman sitting at a desk with 3 foot high stack of paper scribbling furiously.  This might explain why many people would just reply "oh...I am in business" when asked what their job was.

Well...so much for that plan!

Damnnnnn

Kek Lok Si temple

Gettin' peninsular in mainland Malaysia

I left Kuching and hopped a quick flight to Kuala Lumpur.  The weekend I left, there was a dart throwing competition at the local mall in Kuching.  I wish I could have stayed around, but it was time for me to get out of town.  Either I would have seen an amazing display of skill (who the hell is actually good at darts!?), or a bunch of absolute amateurs having a great time.  Either way, it would have been worth it.  

Busy food street in KL

Anyway...the plan was to spend a day or so in KL, and then start making my way north to end at the food paradise of Penang.  Not too much to report about KL.  Pretty decent southeast Asian city.  Lots of good food, malls on every corner, and cars honking non-stop.  I had a couple of delicious meals, including a face-meltingly spicy som tam salad.  Without a ton of time for sightseeing, I missed the Petronas Towers and the world's largest capsule vending maching.  In my defense I would have visited that, but I didn't even know it existed until I saw the sign on the bus out of town.  Oh well, unless Dubai feels the need to one-up them in the capsule vending department, it will probably be there when I come back.

Ready for grilling

Instead of heading straight to the major tourist destination of Tanah Rata in the Cameron Highlands, I decided to stop in Ipoh.  I figured most people probably pass right through on the trail from KL  to Penang, and I was right.  For the first time in Malaysia I didn't see any other white tourists.  The Indian community is gearing up for Deepavali, and the streets were filled with stands selling sweets of all kinds.  My plan of losing weight is not quite coming together like I hoped.

The bus from Ipoh to Tanah Rata was comfy and scenic, and it sure was refreshing to step out into the cool mountain air.  I met a local (maybe) guy in the bus station who told me he wanted to leave town but didn't want to take a bus.  He was less than thrilled when I suggested hitchhiking.

Guy:  No!  No hitchhiking here.  You would die.

Me:  What!?  No way.  It'll be great!

Guy:  No.  Maybe no one will stop for me, because I am Indian.  You have white skin.  You will be kidnapped or killed.  Immediately!

The next morning I hitched a ride from Tanah Rata to the neighboring town of Brinchang and climbed up Mount Brinchang, via a muddy jungle trail.  On the walk back, I heard a honk behind me as a nice Mercedes pulled off to the shoulder.  A nice older couple offered me a ride back to Tanah Rata just because they felt like stopping.  I had planned on walking, but gladly accepted their generosity.

Shopping in Ipoh.  There's a joke here somewhere...

Why can't our clothing shops be like this?

The convent across from my hotel in Tanah Rata

View from Mount Brinchang

My trail home is somewhere in there

Tea plantation in the Cameron Highlands

Tea tea and more tea

Jungle walking

Tanah Rata and the Cameron Highlands are being developed quickly.

Kuching - An intro to Malaysia!

Kuching - Thanks Internet!

I arrived in Kuching without knowing what to expect.  I had done little to no research, other than deciding that Kuching was a better gateway to exploring the jungles of Borneo than Kota Kinabalu.  Transportation from the airport into town was easy enough, and I found a nice room at the Singgahsana hostel for 90 Ringgit a night (a little under $30...more than I should have paid).  I put up with it, because Singgahsana was a fairly central traveler's hangout with a nice bar up on the roof.  The first night, I ended up having drinks with the 5 or so other guests staying at the place, and we had a nice time, except for the fact that beers were quite expensive.

Though I try my best to be anti-social and grumpy when travelling, I got roped into a group expedition out to some nearby caves for the next day.  The plan was to rent motorbikes and ride for an hour or so out to the Fairy Cave.  There were 9 of us, and it turned into kind of a disaster, as most of the group was significantly hung over from the night before.  We didn't get rolling (zing!) until almost 1pm, and somehow I ended up driving a manual transmission bike.  I'd done it before, but that was almost six years ago and I'm pretty sure that experiment ended up in me throwing a nice Korean girl off the back end while trying to start the bike on a steep uphill slope.

With only one single girl in our group, the odds were good that I would be buddying up with one of guys.  I ended up chauffeuring around poor Neal, a nervous young Canadian fellow who I could tell was prepared to meet his fate at any moment on the back of my bike.  All went well...no one died, though there was a lot of screaming and swearing by me.  We also lost the group for about 15 minutes, but through sheer luck managed to join them again to much cheering and high-fiving.  The caves were fine, and the riding was great fun once we got out of the busy city, but I felt like kind of a tool walking around the city and riding the highways with a large pack of white folks.  Not that I'm some great friend of the locals, but something about wandering around a place as an obvious tourist in a group of more than 3 or 4 just bugs me.

Ok...I tried to hold off, but I just can't.  Sorry fellow backpackers.  You're generally real nice people, easygoing, always up for a beer, very welcoming, and always have some great stories and experiences to share.  The problem is that I hate all of you.  There have been a few exceptions over the years, but they've mostly been couples or people over age 35.  I can't quite put my finger on it, but I just don't quite fit into backpacker culture, and something about the typical backpacker just rubs me the wrong way.

Proboscis monkey - funny looking guy

After 3 days wandering around the city, I headed out for a few nights at Bako National Park to see some wildlife and do some jungle trekking.  The place is crawling with macaques, monitor lizards, bearded boars, and the rare proboscis monkey, found only in Borneo.  I divided my time between walking the trails and hanging out near the park HQ watching the monkeys do their thing.  The macaques are sneaky little guys and will grab food off your plate if you turn your back for long enough.  I could watch them fight over bags of potato chips all day long.

Though I'm still figuring out my camera situation, I was lucky enough to get some bad photos of the rare German out of his natural habitat.  A little known fact about Germans is that for only the cost of two beers, they will often let you share the room they booked at the park because you're an idiot and didn't plan ahead.  Since I didn't want to impose too much on Marcus, I spent my second night camped out in a hammock near the beach as fireflies lit up the nearby trees.  Not a bad compromise.

Bako Park at low tide

German - This one was named Marcus...

Goodbye Philippines, Hello Singapore

I pulled into Manila's Ninoy Aquino airport around 8:30pm with the plan of finding a quiet place to sleep somewhere in the lobby, as going into the city would cost at least $50 and I'd just have to be back at the airport early anyway. Unfortunately terminal 3 is nowhere you'd want to spend the evening, and I ended up being forced into an even more expensive hotel close to the airport.  Oh well, at least I got to wash all my clothes before moving on.

Thanks Uncle Marty!

The Philippines have been great, but I'm ready to check out some different places.  The people here have got to be the friendliest I've met anywhere, and it's nice that it isn't too spoiled by tourism yet.  I had the night in Manila to catch up on some local news, and found that the earthquake in Bohol killed 213 and displaced over 300,000 people in Bohol and Cebu.  This happened just a few days after I left.  Typhoon Nari, which scuttled my boating plans in El Nido, also swept through Manila killing 13 and doing quite a bit of damage.  Seems crazy that this stuff went on and I was only vaguely aware of it.  Anyway, that night I had my last San Miguel beer and bag of Marty's Cracklin' spicy vinegar flavored Old-Fashioned Guilt-Free Vegetarian Chicharon, which had pretty much been sustaining me so far.

The next morning, I headed back to the airport and literally bumped into Dmitri (the Russian rocket scientist) who was waiting for the same flight as me.  Turned put we were even seated right next to each other because my life just works like that.  As usual, I just fired off question after question and Dmitri explained it all away.  Topics covered included how the human body absorbs and synthesizes vitamins, the intricacies of owning a business in a foreign country, international work visa strategies and programs, and the evolution and migration of wildlife in Siberia.  Needless to say, it made the flight awesome.

Singapore's Merlion

Dmitri and I said our goodbyes in Singapore's Changi airport, as he was transferring on to New Zealand, and I couldn't wait to get out and explore the city.  I quickly checked into a nice little hostel, though shockingly expensive at $25 a night for a dorm bed.  I had some shopping to do since my phone and flashlight disappeared from my bag between Port Barton and Puerto Princesa (I really need to start taking better care of my shit), and I had about 10 meals to cram into my 36 hours in town.  Coming from the Philippines, Singapore was a whole new world.  The smell of spices and curries and grilled meats and fresh fruits filled the air and somehow the cars don't seem to create the same pollution that they do in pH.  I wouldn't even be surprised if someone told me that there weren't any cockroaches in Singapore.  My only disappointment was that the "topless bus tour" turned out to be very different than I was hoping.

The restaurant I ate at proudly proclaimed "Authentic Pig's
Organ Soup!"  Because let's be honest, my concerns over
authenticity have been the only thing stopping me from
plowing through a bowl of pig organs.

I could have used another day to knock a few more food items off my list, but in my one full day I had Indian parathas with sambal in little India (along with some lovely ginger tea), pig organ soup in Chinatown, 3 noodle dishes that I don't even know, braised duck, rice porridge, the famous chicken rice, and 1266ml of Tiger beer.  Success!  Between stuffing my face, I wandered around exploring the crazy malls.  My favorite was Sim Lim tower, which was 8 floors of dimly lit shops selling all kinds of electronic junk. Need to buy some coax cable by the foot?  How about a hand-held metal detector wand for the kids?  Are you unsatisfied with the megaphone selection at your local outlet?  Or maybe you'd like to add another dusty circuit board to your collection?  Sim Lim's got you covered. 

I had a flight the next day out of neighboring Johor Bahru in Malaysia, and for $2 I hopped a bus to take me across the border, through immigration, and then to the airport.  My two hour flight to Kuching from there cost a whopping $21 (thanks AirAsia!) and went off without a hitch.  I'm ready to get out and start exploring the jungles of Borneo. Borneo!

Leaving the final frontier

Puerto Princesa was a fairly uninspiring town, but it had fast internet, ATM machines, and comfortable lodging.  I caught up on some research for future destinations and planned my next couple days, and generally wandered around town.  I spent quite a few hours at Mendoza Park at what appeared to be an outdoor semi-permanent furniture/appliance sale and karaoke competition.  The love that Filipinos have for karaoke has been well documented, but there's just nothing like watching 50-year old men belt out power love ballads from the 80's to the general public.  I was a little surprised when the announcer/cashier called out the name of the roving food vendor next to me, and he dropped his snacks and jumped up on stage to throw his all into Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer.  After he finished he quietly walked back to his stuff and continued on his journey down the street.  Awesome!

Anyway...spurred on by a recent post from my favorite (and only) travel blogger that I follow, I hopped a bus from Puerto Princesa out to the sleepy town of Port Barton.  Kent from thedromomaniac.com apparently was just in Palawan for about two weeks, but it looks like he stayed a few days ahead of me at every turn.  He seems like a nut, and it would have been funny to run into him.  At least his excitement about Port Barton gave me the motivation to get out and visit this amazing fishing village before the road gets paved and it turns into El Nido Jr.  As it is now, they only have electricity from 6pm to midnight, and the bars generally stop serving drinks at 11pm.  Not that most people are awake at that time anyway.  Aside from the odd jeepney or two rolling into town, the only sound is the ocean, roosters, and dogs barking.  Walking through the near silent, pitch black streets at night is just magical.

Unfortunately I only had two days to spend there before I had to run back to Puerto to catch my flight to Manila.  The second night I happened to bump into a Swiss couple that I met the day before on the bus, and they forced me to join them for drinks and the fresh caught lobster that they had the kitchen cook up for us.  I tried my hardest to wriggle my way out of it, but ok.  Fine.  If you're going to twist my arm, I'll eat your fresh lobster.  Done.

I finally was able to pull some crappy pictures off my cell phone camera, so I'll just put those up here now.  They're mostly from Coron and El Nido, but better late than never.

An Evening Dip

Coron Island

Boatin

Our secluded beach camp

I caught an early morning motorbike ride out from Port Barton the next day to a junction on the main highway where I could flag down a ride back to Puerto Princesa.  It's possible I left them in the room, but I have a feeling that my crappy cellphone and a nice flashlight were taken out of my bag as it sat atop the bus.  The phone was old and starting to fail (the constant splashing with saltwater didn't help things) and not worth too much, but I am now without any way to use the available wifi, so I'm not sure what I'm gonna do about that.

I'll blame it on the lost phone, but it's really only my own fault that I didn't verify my flight time right away when I got back to Puerto.  I could have made my 11:55 flight, but thought it was at 1:50 and didn't get to an internet cafe until it was too late.  Ah crap...another $40 down the drain on a last minute ticket.  At least they're not too expensive.  On the plus side, I ran into my friend John from El Nido in the airport.  He had missed his flight as well, and now also had 5 hours to kill in the airport.  We jumped across the street for some smoothies and beers, and it at least made the wait bearable.  Hurray for good luck!

Palawan part 2

I rented a motorcycle on my last day in Coron and drove out to the small settlements along the west coast of the island.  It was kind of a rough ride on mostly unpaved road, but it helped to remind me just how friendly the Philippines really are.  Once you get away from the tourist center, people are genuinely excited to see you, and really make you feel welcome.  It was also nice to get away from the business of town (even a small town like Coron).  Classic Philippines situation:  motorbike rental lady asks me if I have my international drivers license.  Um...no.  Whoops.  After a brief moment of indecision, she says "...then you must be very careful" and hands me the keys.

The following morning I hopped a small boat that would hopefully take me to El Nido in about 8 easy hours. I don't know if I forgot where I was, or what, but I was somehow shocked when the boat left an hour late and then took an extra three hours for the ride.  About a third of the way through the trip, the seas picked up, and we had a really rough ride.  I'm generally ok on
boats, but I was feeling like I might be seasick for a few minutes there.  Just as it really started to get dark, and people were beginning to get nervous in the rough seas, we saw the lights of town off in the distance.  Whew...

Ok...so it's not exactly the booming metropolis I make it out to be,
but still not my kind of place.

I fell out onto the pier along with an Australian couple, and we wandered the town in search of a place to stay and some quick food.  In the morning, I discovered that El Nido wasn't quite the quiet town I had expected.  It was swarming with tourists, and the main street was dotted with the typical backpacker hotspots: coffeeshops, reggae themed bars, small restaurants serving crepes, and overpriced restaurants.  At least the tour operators and tricycle drivers weren't too pushy.  I had plans for doing some kayaking, but due to Typhoon Nari, the coast guard said no boats on the water.  (Apparently the coast guard operates here without radios.  Not sure how that works, but it definitely didn't help knowing that while our boat was being tossed around as darkness approached on the trip to El Nido.)

El Nido beach

Though El Nido wasn't quite my kind of town, there's no denying that it is an absolutely beautiful location.  I rented a motorbike again, since boating was out, and drove a big loop around the northern tip of the island.  There were some nice, empty beaches, great little communities, and more water buffalo than you can shake a stick at.

A long bus ride later, I'm in the town of Puerto Princesa.  The tourist literature here promotes Palawan as the "last frontier", but luckily McDonalds and Jollibee rode their horses out here quickly.  Ok fine...I ate breakfast at Jollibee.  Are you happy!?  It's nice to have 24 hour electricity and working internet here in PP, but I think I'm going to spend one more day out on a quiet beach at Port Barton a few hours north.

In a few days I'm on to Singapore and then to Malaysia!  Take care out there!