Scooter park hell at the train station, Johor Baru...the extremely annoying ringtone. Oh and traffic otherwise known as 'Deathrace 2008'... but we already knew that. Another crazy couple of days gone by... the train to Tampin was a four hour trundle through palm plantation... and palm plantation... and palm plantation... just before Tampin things livened up a bit when the track got bad and the train slowed to walking speed, taking an interesting tilt to the right which had me trying to do some rough physics and calculus in my head... weight vs point of balance plus momentum plus sideways lurching equals..? but then we all know I was hopeless at calculus. So I chose to ignore it.
Tampin is not really much to see, I got off the train in the dark into the open air station and a couple of taxi drivers tried to convince me that all the buses were gone and 80 ringit was the going rate to Melaka. Since it was pitch black and I had no place to stay and there was very little in the way of civilisation and much in the way of pitch black jungle, I obviously chose to tell them I wasn't going to play their little game... after a bit to to-ing and fro-ing one gave up and admitted there was an 8 o'clock bus which would be leaving any minute from town some distance away. I set off at a pace with all my gear on, at which point the same guy obviously felt bad and came after me on a scooter, offering a lift so that I would make the bus. I explained in simple terms that my 145kg of guts and gear was not going to work on his moped and he concurred, at which time he yelled the directions again and puttered off. Said directions were obviously, as they always are, mildly incorrect, sending me rather unmildly in the wrong direction ('left'...'right'... I mean, what's the difference really?), but a friendly Muslim lady set me right as I wandered Tampin alleyways and I rocked up to the bus just as the crowds piled aboard...
I was the last onto the last bus of the night, saving me fun sleeps under whatever piece of rusted corrugated iron I could find, and the driver crashed the gears and we sped off into the dark. To say my new ride was basic would be too kind, it was I believe most likely previously owned by the US prison service in 1950.. paint worn off all the interior, cans rattling on metal floor, she flew through the dark, doors and windows wide open, gears crunching and unmuffled exhaust wailing like a wounded dragon. I eyed up my fellow passengers and they eyed me up back, and I wondered at what point I would need to get worried if it turned onto a dirt track in the jungle, but then I had no idea what the road to Melaka was like, so I decided to just be happy I was on a bus going somewhere, because somewhere is better than nowhere, and I had just been in nowhere.
We made Melaka with little incident - but in saying that, an "incident" on Malaysian roads means dying horribly with a 1950's prison bus seatpost in your eye, anything less is not even worth mentioning - and my first impression was it was a lot bigger than I was expecting... I knew it was historical and interesting sounding, and I hoped it had a beach, but that was about it... after much more haggling with taxis at the bus station I made my way to the first guest house on my list, which seemed central to whatever was actually there. We got nearly to the right street and the driver told me to get out as he 'couldn't go down there'... which was promising... so I got out and walked and was greeted by much noise and commotion from the direction I needed to go in... at first I thought it might be a political rally, but people were coming out of their shops and looking, and then I started to get a bit concerned it may be a protest. As I got to the corner where the crowds were congregating, I realised my worst fears... it was the Asian Tony Robbins... ('TONY!! OVER HERE TONY!! I LOVE YOU TONY, YOU CHANGED MY LIFE!!!") (Only one person reading this blog will get that... but it's still funny) . Some guy with a headset microphone was selling something... I still half feared it might be some sort of weird "kill whitey" thing so I bounced through the crowd, both packs in tow, fairly rapidly. It didn't take long to figure it all out though, the street was closed for a night market... ahhhh... I get it... Melaka is a tourist trap...
I was the last onto the last bus of the night, saving me fun sleeps under whatever piece of rusted corrugated iron I could find, and the driver crashed the gears and we sped off into the dark. To say my new ride was basic would be too kind, it was I believe most likely previously owned by the US prison service in 1950.. paint worn off all the interior, cans rattling on metal floor, she flew through the dark, doors and windows wide open, gears crunching and unmuffled exhaust wailing like a wounded dragon. I eyed up my fellow passengers and they eyed me up back, and I wondered at what point I would need to get worried if it turned onto a dirt track in the jungle, but then I had no idea what the road to Melaka was like, so I decided to just be happy I was on a bus going somewhere, because somewhere is better than nowhere, and I had just been in nowhere.
We made Melaka with little incident - but in saying that, an "incident" on Malaysian roads means dying horribly with a 1950's prison bus seatpost in your eye, anything less is not even worth mentioning - and my first impression was it was a lot bigger than I was expecting... I knew it was historical and interesting sounding, and I hoped it had a beach, but that was about it... after much more haggling with taxis at the bus station I made my way to the first guest house on my list, which seemed central to whatever was actually there. We got nearly to the right street and the driver told me to get out as he 'couldn't go down there'... which was promising... so I got out and walked and was greeted by much noise and commotion from the direction I needed to go in... at first I thought it might be a political rally, but people were coming out of their shops and looking, and then I started to get a bit concerned it may be a protest. As I got to the corner where the crowds were congregating, I realised my worst fears... it was the Asian Tony Robbins... ('TONY!! OVER HERE TONY!! I LOVE YOU TONY, YOU CHANGED MY LIFE!!!") (Only one person reading this blog will get that... but it's still funny) . Some guy with a headset microphone was selling something... I still half feared it might be some sort of weird "kill whitey" thing so I bounced through the crowd, both packs in tow, fairly rapidly. It didn't take long to figure it all out though, the street was closed for a night market... ahhhh... I get it... Melaka is a tourist trap...
And it is... but not theworst kind... it's not a bad town nonetheless... apart from all the tourists from Singapore and a few westerners from further afield, it's not too bad... sort of the right mix of real town, history and touristy stuff. Had a good look around today and about to venture back out into the night market for some food. I like the place, but the large scale-renovation and construction going on indicates that like so many other places, there isn't long left for the old Melaka. Soon it will be MELAKALAND!!! Oh well... what can you do. I can also confirm there is no beach at Melaka.. trust me, I spent a lot of time looking... I am burned good, dryer heat up here, it's a killer in the sun.
Anyway I think I will be off to KL tomorrow, probably via bus, I wanted to get back to the train at Tampin but I think it will be too much time and hassle getting there to be worthwhile.
400 year old St Paul's on the hill
Oh and say bye to Uncle Helen for me!! Tell her not to let the door hit her in the boney lesbian ass! Take care all
No comments:
Post a Comment