High in the highlands

As we wound up the new mountain i searched in vain for the point of the accident to no avail. The higher we moved into the mountains the more the now familiar palm plantations faded into memory.

For those that haven't read my previous blog, the Cameron highlands is the food bowl of the Malay peninsula, supplying a large amount of the vegetables in Singapore. It is also reknowned for it's strawberry farms and tea plantations. The are was opened by the colonial powers but has since become a major getaway location for the Malay population for it's cooler climate. For those that have been to dalat in Vietnam, tthe area bears many resemblances.

Turning into the highlands road toward brinchang and tanah rata, my mum was overwhelmed by the scene of strawberry and other covered land plots filling every flat piece of ground available. Not so much of the romantic Cameron highlands as seen in the promotional material. These small agricultural plots continue for the 15 km of small busy winding roads all the way to tanah rata where we stayed.

While mum was admiring the view I was worrying about where we would sleep. I hadn't found anything I liked on the Internet and arriving 3 days before Christmas was fretting about whether we would indeed have a mattress to rest mum's still sick and weary head. My last trump card was the hope that in true Asian fashion we would be hounded by hoteliers offering accomodation as soon as we stepped off the bus.

Weary after three days travel for both of us. We stepped of the bus into the waiting arms of two fine young gentlemen competing for our money. One was representing the guesthouse I had stayed in last time which I wasn't overjoyed about and the other had nice flowers in the front yard. So we went with the latter.

A short 150m mini van trip to the hostel and we were checked in and ready to roll. So what did we do. Well not a lot really. That afternoon we wandered the one street of tanah rata end to end which we would do many more time. Gorged ourselves on Roti Chennai and availed ourselves of some free internet.

By the mid afternoon both mum and I relaxed an read before heading out in the evening for some Nasi.

The main event for me was to go to the Tea plantations. Now the easiest way is to take a taxi, but that is too easy. Unfortunately, that is about the only easy way to get there. The public bus that travels through the area stops at the entrance to the plantation, and from there it is either walk or hitchhike. Being a newly invigorated traveller I was keen to try a combination of walking and hoping to hitch a lift on the way. What I failed to consider in this was the illness my mum was carrying. So once there we tried to wait for a taxi to pass by to save us the walk. However contrary to this advice given to me, no taxi that did not have people in it. So resigned and a little bit bitter we headed off on the 2 km walk to the plantation.

20 meter up the road our prayers were answered and old beaten up jeep offered us a lift to the plantation. Seated in the tray of the jeep we bounced along the road passing a couple that had taken the same bus and decided to walk. The kind driver dropped us off at the entrance and we walked the last leisurely 300 meters to the tea plantation and tea house. Morph exhausted we sat down for some tea and cake before visiting the factory and attached exhibition. While well setup the factory tour was finished by the time we were caked out as the workers had gone home. However the informative display gave a good overview of the history of the tea plantation.

It was then that we needed to solve the second problem of the day and get out of a place that was difficult to get into. I asked one of the bus drivers for a lift who said sure, but we had to wait for his tour group. Unfortunately when the time arrived 30min later he drove straight past us apologetically as he had been overruled by the tour guide. But this stage light rain had set in and mum was staring ominously at the long walk back to the road. I inquired with a few drivers if they were able to give us a lift with no success leaving us the only option to ask another taxi driver to call in another taxi. As the taxi's are based In tanah rata it would take another 30 min for the taxi to arrive and so we sat down for more tea and cake to pass the time. The taxi meandered down the hill almost on schedule and we hopped in and returned post haste to our hotel for some more rest.

That evening as recommended by my house mate we indulged in a Steamboat meal for two. With prawns, chicken, crab, fishballs, egg, fish and more we ate and talked and are for a few hours though unfortunately I over cooked the prawns and they went floury. At the end of the meal we walked home in a light rain.

The next day we got up early to see the sunrise after making arrangements with the taxi driver the night before. Leaving the hostel by 6:30 to climb the second highest mountain in the area. It was lucky that there weren't too many others on the road as it was not built for two lane traffic. The taxi fought its way up the mountain but it didn't feel quite at home. At the top of the mountain there is a small tower that you can climb up to get a better view. Now as we were driving a light rain started falling reflecting the general overcast nature of the sky so we were a little nervous. However the mountain top was clear and there were shades of blue hinting amongst the clouds overhead.

As luck would have it when arriving atop the mountain the sunrays reflecting off the cloud created the brilliant orange and yellows that we come to expect, which was enough to over come any disappointment we had about the sun never quite showing itself. At the top of the mountain
We burned a candle and sang a quiet song in memory of Marlene, a keen singer and lover of life, who had her funeral that day.

We once again returned to our hotel and did nothing. In fact the amount of time that a I have slept read and not really done much on this holiday is really starting to add up. My only excuse being that it is a holiday.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. We read, tried unsuccessfully to make it to a teahouse for tea and scones and ended up in a roadside restaurant playing yahtzee while we waited for an impromptu storm to pass over.

The rain did pass as the battery in my phone died, forcing a timely end to the game of yahtzee.

As dinner time arrived we found ourselves in a Dutch themed cafe owned by a Chinese Malay man who had previously owned a restaurant in Assen. The whole cafe is decorated in Dutch football paraphernalia including a scarf with 'Sparta naar vooore!!'. There we ate another substantial meal including ice cream.

That was the end of our highland travails as we would descend the next day. Leaving the cool climate and land of double blankets to a world with no blanket required.

Stay tuned

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Gateway to the highlands

So when we last spoke I was just heading on the plane to KL to meet my mum. Well you will be pleased to know that it all went well.

After some reflection, inspiration which led to me writing a short essay on the plane about the problems of the world, I commenced the traveling min earnest. Immigration and customs caused me no grief and I got myself sorted with a phone and bus ticket to take me to the centre of the city.

My mum had notified me the day before that the bus station we had arranged to meet was closed a suggested an alternate place to meet. So I arrived at KL sentral station and tried to figure out where to go. If there was a information booth it was nowhere to be found and I walked up two stories of stairs and the down again and back up again before I finally got clarity about how to get to this place bukit jalil that mum had mentioned. Turned out that from the station i had to take a train back the direction I came from, then transfer to another train to get to there. This added an extra hour to my journey and while we were intending to meet at 2, didn't get there until 3:45.

Fortunately as I walked into the station through a backdoor between two tents into the marshaling area, my mum shining rose hat and smile was there to greet me. We completed the formalities, excretion and consumption and stepped on the bus. By this stage is was 4:30 which meant we wouldn't arrive at our destination, Ipoh until after 8 pm. By the time we were on the bus we had realized that our lax planning had been highly inefficient and if we had met a KL sentral and caught the train we would have been there hours earlier and ringgits cheaper.

The bus trip was pleasant enough as we passed palm plantations, deforestation and apartment complexes that only Asian countries aspire to (though necessity I may add) I caught up on mum's family gossip and I filled my mum in on the Aussie gossip.

We arrived in Ipoh and caught a taxi to our hotel in the train station adding further insult to injury. But given the palacial, yet slightly worn out condition of our accommodation all was forgiven. My mother was particularly surprised and amused by the celubrious surroundings. After checking in we wandered through the old quarter of colonial building searching for meal natter considering that we had gone in the wrong direction we stumbled across a streetside restaurant, with accompanying Carlsberg and Tiger girls that was able to serve us snow beer, Tom Yam soup and Thai style chicken. This was much needed respite after a long day on the road. With two longnecks down and full stomachs we stumbled back to the hotel briefly accompanied by some Tamil music from a party next door.

Waking from a hardened beds we emerged onto our balcony to be served breakfast consisting to ho hum noodles, toast and Luke warm tea. Today was the day to travel up in the highlands so we packed our bags an wandered to the bus station to get ticket. The bus left at 11am so i decided that we would wander through the heritage town for an hour and the go to the bus. 15 min in mum turns to me and asks what Sevareid doing before reminding me that she was still feeling I'll and didn't want to spend the next hour walking. So we decided instead to search for a coffee house and were helped on our way by an old man thanking us for visiting Malaysia.

We eventually ambled into an intersection with a restaurant on each corner. We decided on thebfruitiest of the four and sat down for some Cinna juice (what ever that is). It look and tastes a bit like come without the fizz. We talked more and amused ourselves watching a lady slice fruit like she had been doing it for 20 years. I thought that she might lose a finger one day, mum though that unlikely.

By that stage the clock in my head was ticking and we travelled Godspeed back to our hotel, collected our luggage and of to the bus station.

I might take the time to establish some context here. The cameron highland are just that, and only accessible by winding mountain roads. A couple of day before we arrived a bus a driven off the road we were just about to travel killing almost 30 of the 40odd passengers, mostly Thai, on board. This was malaysia's worst ever bus accident. Further more the bus itself, a complete write-off was neatly placed on display between the train and bus station along a main road for all to see. I am not sure if it was the local scrapyard, or the governments way of sending a modest road safety message to the people during this holiday season. Anyway, we passed it for the second time as we walked to the bus to travel that same road having taken photos the first time.

The bus was waiting for husband was probably 20 years older than the bus that crashed and so I was happy we were traveling uphill and not down hill.

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Arrival in Thailand

Thought that given that I am on holiday again I might start this blog again. However with 3in left on the clock it is going to be short.

Arrived yesterday and due to being distraacted by misplacing my hotel booking details, spent an exhorbitant amount of money on a taxi that spent 30 min looking for the hostel. No bother, but I better get in gear soon or this could be an expensive trip.

I am in a hostel overlooking the airport, so it shouldn't be to difficult to get to the airport from here, as I fly fo Malaysia in about 2.5 hours.

Looking out it look like we are well in to the burning season as a thick haze spreads across the land.

Have run out of time, no to find my mum

Back to Holiday Matters!!

The first five days in Laos had therefore been pretty intense and both mum and I were looking for a little bit of rest; conscious of the fact that we needed to get moving south. So we had a shower before heading back out into the heat and renting some bicycles just to make getting around a little bit easier. However, short people make for low seat which meant that the bikes were not easy to ride. We headed of to the SNV office, which is the dutch equivalent of AusAid, to get an idea of the types of activities they undertake and if we could held. Turns out there was not much we could do as they prefer to use local resources but it was interesting none the less to sit down and talk with them. After that we headed of to the internet cafe and lunch, followed by another stop brother mouse store, this time for mum and not me.

We finished the day by scouring the night market for silk and gifts and other products. By 9 O'clock however both of us had used up all of our energy and returned to the hotel, our bags a little heavier and our wallets and little lighter.

The next morning we were picked up early for our trip to Phonsavan, in an old van that squeezed ten people in. Lucky I had a front seat so it was more bearable, but you could see the concerned faces of western tourists, packed like sardines, submitting themselves to 10 hours of torture. The driver on the other hand was very cheery, and keen to make conversation with us. After I demonstrated that I could count in Laos he immediately assumed I could speak Laos and proceeded to tell me all kind of wonderful things which I could not understand. The little bit that I did get was that we would only be traveling in this bus for a short time. This turned out to be true, but not fortuitous. The bus driver took us to the bus station just south of the city where the Mini Van's were ready to take us further. However even then once transferred it was still 9 people to a Mini Van, so with resignation I squeezed myself into the back corner for the long driver. After leaving the conversation quickly wilted and the Ipod were switched on as each person coped with the trip in their own way. Luckily the scenery is beautiful and was more dramatic than that which I remember. Other than many corners the trip was uneventful with a short break for lunch.

We arrived in the Phonsavan Valley in the late afternoon and in Phonsavan itself as the sun set. A royal welcome of representatives of the local guesthouses greeted us as we exited the bus, and after consulting a few of them we picked up our bags and headed off. The guest house turned out to be quite nice except for the fact that the screen installed to prevent mosquitoes getting in had a three millimeter gap on one side which raises the question; why bother. Having been to Phonsavan I knew that to food available was not particularly great so we settled for something simple, bought soup for three seemingly homeless boys (who then hassled me every meal for the next two days!!) before again heading for an early night.

The next day My mum went on a tour through the plain of Jars, not the tour she wanted but even though they have 5 different tours, there are not enough people taking tours 2-5 making it too expensive to do by yourself. So I waved goodbye to her, stuck in a early 90's model minivan, and headed off to rent a bike. I had heard there was an orphanage in the town that welcomed assistance so after dropping by the local market to buy some gifts I made my way there. After heading in the wrong entrance and getting many comments and pointing from the locals I headed to the second entrance only to find out that the school was closed for the day and nothing doing. So I handed over my gift, signed the visitors book and head off again. I decided on some random riding through the city. I decided to go look at a new electricity substation project but with a guy seated in a booth at the entrance I took a left turn and headed down some backstreet. 5 minutes later I was confronted with a dead and started hearing a lot of 'falang' commentary and one lady closed her gate after I went passed. I though it probably best to head back to the main road and back to the center of the city.

I had lunch and surfed the net and then headed out north of the town of my bike. The area is nice and I passed a few villages, and skinned pig and a few cemeteries before stopping for a break after about 10km and heading back to the city to meet my mum at the end of her tour.

We had been discussing for a few days whether to head to Vieng Xay (another 10 hour drive from Phonsavan) and decided that the best way to do it would be to hire and guide and driver, enabling us to stop take photos and see some additional sites we would not be able to see, if we traveled by Public transport. So in the evening we negotiated the terms and the price and once all was signed we where invited back to the tour operator's house for a Laos BBQ and beer. Once there we were introduced to his family and found out that it is a trend for Laos people that speak English are encouraging their kids to learn and speak English from a young age. Often speaking English at home, to young children to give them that little bit of advantage in life. Later a group of tourists joined us and I disseminated all I knew about Laos to eager ears (well, they looked eager!) before finishing of the night with the tour operator.

The following morning we had an early start in order to get to the weekly Hmong market that finishes by about 8am. Slightly hung over , I packed my bags and headed out to be greeted by our driver for the next three days. We where concerned about his ability to speak English but these concerns turned out to be unfounded as he was both eloquent in speaking English and knowledgeable about the country and overall we had a great three days.

Our first stop was the Hmong market after about 20 minuted drive. This market is loved because of the fresh produce the Hmong people bring to ti from the surrounding country side, but you have to be there early because its all gone by 8:30. Walking through the market I could not fault the quality of the produce, exceeding Australian quality and would have been quite happy to pick some up and eat it right there and then. Even the meat and fish in the wet market looked fresh and there were very few flies around for an open air market. Surrounding the fresh market is a wide
array of other stalls selling clothes, cleaning product and imported Hmong style clothing, that while pretty is definitely not original.

By the time we left many people had gone and Sawng Thiew's (Meaning 'Two Rows')[i.e tuk-tuks] packed to the rafters with people and Chickens hung on the side headed off back home. We bough some banana and some battered banana's for snacks on the way, however our driver had the same idea and also bought banana's; so with banana's a plenty we headed further up the road.

The next stop was a Hmong village were they used unexploded ordinance from the war to build houses and fences. Unfortunately high scrap metal prices mean that a lot of it has been sold, but there are a few remaining houses and buildings that still use bombshells as fences. In particular one family had a large stock of 20 odd shells a $50 each. It almost felt like an personal banking system. What was most striking about the village was the flowering of the Christmas stars and other plants in the village which gave it a lush and vibrant feel. We spent around 40 minuted wandering the village, observing the kids and the local pet monkey an a chain before getting back in the car.

After a brief stop at a silk weaving village, were no-one was currently working and a hot spring that looks like a development project gone wrong, even though the water is really hot, we stopped at Muang Kham for lunch. At the same time a Korean Cyclist heading in the other direction, finishing the mountain climbing we were about to commence, perched his bike on a camera tripod, checked his GPS and also settled in for some rice fro lunch.

Back in the car we headed further up the winding roads of Laos into the far north west that is only just opening up to tourism. I think I have said in my blog previously that Laos is the land of 10,000 turns, as you wind you way through the mountains, up and then along the ridge before descending down to a river and then back up onto the ridge. We passed many villages occasionally stopping for photos including those villages that are hooked up to solar power. We passed a village were our driver had stayed fora while and hoped to meet the family. the family was out but one of the children let us in and showed us around their simple accommodation, including the battery pack that accompanies the solar panel. Generally they can get a full night of light and TV out of a single battery charge. We admired the deer heads on the walls before stepping outside and continuing on our way. The night we spent in Nam Noen, a small town along the river Noen, with two guesthouses and little more. Sign around the town indicate that it is trying to be a model village. The guesthouse was basic with shared bathrooms and not hot water but this was offset by the peaceful atmosphere with people playing volleyball at the local temple and others sorting rice, watering gardens and doing other chores at the end of a long days work. We sat down for dinner and we joined by four cyclist from the Netherlands who had just completed a very tough day from Vieng Thom to Nam Noen. One of them wasn't feeling well and plans were being made to get transport rather than ride the next day.

Dinner was pleasant, though in a touch of sad news, on of the waiters was calmly nursing a baby the whole evening and when we returned to the village 2 days later we found out that the child had passed away, as we watched a small funeral procession pass through the town. After dinner it was time for bed, which turned out to be the worst night sleep I have had.