A friend called up and suggested we take a break in Malaysia before a project. It sounded good to me – just after a busy period, and I could draw on my ringgit account for a “free” trip.
It was decided on the morning itself to go up the west coast. So we hit the highway. Going up to Cameron Highlands in one day sounded a bit tiring as the highway drive would be followed by the hairpins of the ascent from Tapah. Why not take the highway all the way up to Ipoh, eat the hor fun and the beansprouts, drink the coffee, and spend the night there before taking the newer route up from Simpang Pulai?
Since there was no actual plan, there were no hotel reservations. We stopped by a couple of places and asked rates. There were a few possibilities, but we opted for the Hotel New Caspian, one of those old Chinese establishments where they are not keen on “upgrading” but they do keep things clean.
We got a room with two single beds, with firm mattresses and pillows, floors clean enough to walk on barefoot without grimacing – they were tiled, with no carpeting, which is just the way I like it. I have a horror of mouldy old carpets. My friend has a host of allergies, but reported no attacks the next day, so it was pretty good. And there was even private parking – the unit next door had no front door or front wall – just drive in and park, and someone was there day and night to keep an eye on things. All that for RM70 a night. Not bad, eh?
A short rest was followed in the evening by a trip to the railway station to admire the building, and to get a foot massage at the Pusat Urut in a corner – quaintly-decorated, with masseurs who use enough strength to relax you after a hard day’s driving. Then on to a late dinner of hor fun, and the famous Ipoh chicken and beansprouts.
After breakfast the next morning, a visit to the bank to withdraw spending money, an obligatory stop by a pharmacy to pick up supplements, creams and such, then to a large limestone cave to admire the rock formations.
On the way up to Camerons, some orang asli had their stalls out with jungle produce. Gave up the thought of buying bamboo shoots and petai as they might not be able to tahan until we got home. We did buy some plants though, and I was glad of it as we drove on and saw how many valleys which used to be forest had been cleared for farming.
Now I’m not in a position to rant against clearing the forest, since I like Malaysian veggies as much as anyone else – who knows if the ingenious China farmers have found a way to stuff melamine or some other noxious chemical into their veggies yet? - but it was a shock to see how much land had been cleared, and I felt bad for the orang asli, who are being squashed.
I campaigned to stop by a few bungalows to ask for accommodation, based on fond memories of bungalow stays as a child. After a couple of misses, we stopped by the Lutheran Mission – yes, the last place that Jim Thompson wandered by before he disappeared.
An anxious face looked out at us. “We’re very busy at this time, and you should call ahead to book.” This unpromising start was followed by a grudging “how many of you?” Two. And “How many nights do you want to stay?” Two.
“Will this room do?” Yippee!
We had the whole place to ourselves for the two days (they had just got rid of a whole house that morning, and were expecting another full house the day we left) at RM35 per head per night, plus service charge, with meals an optional extra. We opted for two breakfasts, and dinner the next night.
The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering about the garden, admiring flowers, loafing indoors, and leafing through books on the shelves. At first sight, “The River Garden of Pure Repose” sounded like a heavy bit of theology, but it turned out to be a rather well-written novel, and I ended up staying up the two nights we were there in order to finish it.
We drove about to see some of the other bungalows and hotels, then went down to Tanah Rata for dinner. Sad to see that the cute little town has ballooned into a patch of urban sprawl. Well, it isn’t as bad as Brinchang, which is all business, but it isn’t picturesque anymore. Pity.
Breakfast of tea/coffee, cornflakes, two eggs (“how would you like them?”) a rasher of bacon and as much toast and jam we could eat was a nice throwback to the days of childhood holidays, and cost us RM8 each. Well worth it, since it was a rainy morning and driving out to find food would have been a chore.
More photography of the flowers in the garden, and we were ready to explore and buy. Well, you have to get tea for those nice people who keep giving you things every time they go off on holiday, right? And strawberries for tea, and “honey” sweet potatoes, and sweet corn. The lunch menu was settled when we stopped at an orang asli stall selling durians. For good measure, we got a couple of bamboo shoots (RM6 for two) and some nuts which sounded like an alternative of candlenut (RM3.50 for half a kilo).
The next it was down to the lowlands, on the highway to Melaka. It was a hot day, and heavy going, especially since I’d stayed up the night before to read. After slogging into town, a good chendol was in order, which we ate by the river, across from some red buildings in town.
Our digs for the night were at the Kancil Guest House on Jalan Parameswara, run by Dawood, a Singaporean. For RM40, we got a room with two single beds, with windows on two sides, and an overhead fan. There were a couple of communal bathrooms and toilets up and downstairs, which were very clean, as was the rest of the house.
I’m a bit finicky about my floors, and had not been keen when asked to take my shoes off upon entering the house, but the place was a joy to walk on. Dawood later explained that he tells his people he just wants his rooms clean, his floors clean, and his bathrooms and toilets clean, but the whole place was spotless. And very quaintly decorated too, with old records pasted onto the walls, a trishaw in a corner, and an old ice grinder in another – that’s what they used to shave the ice for ice balls and ice kachang. And lots of plants in this pre-war two-storey Chinese house – in the air well (where there’s also a well!) and a leafy garden at the back, where you can sit and have a drink or a meal. We preferred to sit in the kitchen, next to the old cooking range (they cook with a gas stove now though), where we could chat with Dawood, who is smart, and open, and willing to share opinions and ideas (properly thought-out ones, I mean) on many topics.
Back home via the old trunk road, as it is prettier than the highway, and with no tolls to pay. Of course, this is only to be attempted on a Saturday (and maybe Sunday), when the minyak lorries etc take a day off. Casual driving, with stops for lunch in Muar, and to meet friends in Batu Pahat. On the way, of course, we kept an eye out for pretty houses. Possible retirement homes in Malaysia – somewhere to put up in our 60s and 70s, perhaps. (May have to move back to expensive Singapore after that, to meet medical needs).
Enjoyed some friends, a few strokes of luck, a couple of foot massages, and cheap, fresh fruits and veggies. Altogether, a good break.
