South-West Coast, Troopy is back !

30 August 2012

August 23rd – 29th

First stop, the Thai embassy, to get my visa organized for next month, then Carrefour (yes, here as well, the French supermarket is everywhere) to fill up the fridge. Wendy collects Coca-Cola cans and Absoluut Vodka bottles. So we bought her one as a thank you gift. The clerk scanned our two bottle of wine, scanned the dozen beer cans, scanned the vodka bottle, then looked at the amount, saw there was something wrong, went to the aisle and looked at the price of the vodka, double checked, re-checked her ticket, then asked for 130rm (about 40AUD). Clearly, she knew the price was not right, but she just could not figure it out… Well, we ran.

12PM, we headed south towards the coast. All we saw for the next three days were palm trees. Palm oil is the biggest industry in Malaysia, along with rubber. Though it provides work for millions of people, palm oil is also an ecological disaster. Growing it means getting rid of the endemic flora, usually through burning, and since nothing grows underneath its thick foliage, no mammals or bird live in the palm field. This gets rid of the remaining endemic fauna then. Not to mention the irrigation drains most water through the fields, and pours tons of polluted waters in the sea, or the fact palm oil is in fact pretty bad for your health.

So, really, the west coast, besides palm trees, it doesn’t have much to offer. We did find a great camping spot on our first night, in a small recreation park. First camping night, it was time to open our cans of Grimbergen beer Fred had brought over. A reminder of many late (drunken) nights in Brussels. Aaah life does not get any better: friendship, beer, campfire, what else!

More kilometres through palm trees going south; this was getting pretty damn boring the next day. But the stop in the lovely town of Malacca made it all bearable. Malacca has a great history, so much that it is listed as a UNESCO world heritage site (along with Georgetown actually). In the 15th and 16th century, it even was the capital of Malaysia. The architecture has strong heritage from Portuguese, Chinese, Dutch and English ruling, so the whole town is like a giant history book. I particularly liked the walk along the canals, with the painted houses and the bridges over to Chinatown.

That night, it was impossible to find a campsite so, reluctantly; we went to a hotel, in the sleepy town of Pontian. The owner was very very keen on showing us his new car (Audi TT RS), his guests (a couple from Holland), the whole hotel, etc etc. We even found him a couple of hours later in the bar across the street, insisting on driving the Dutch woman across town in his “beca” (sort of taxi for two, pushed by a bicycle from behind). I think he was drunk too.

After a quick breakfast on the rooftop terrace, we headed for Johor as we had an important rendez-vous. A couple of hours later, we finally got through the maze of one-way streets to the meeting point. Claire flew in the day before from Perth to Singapore, and will be with me for the next two weeks, until Bangkok.
Two days ago, I got a phone call “I’m flying in tonight, can you pick me up tomorrow morning?”. You bet I can!
From Johor, it was only a short drive down to Tanjung Piai, the southernmost tip of mainland “Eurasia”. This little national park, a bit crappy, a bit broken, a bit expensive too, has an important meaning to me. It is the first of my four challenges, the next one will be in far-east Russia, the third in Dezhnyov, in the Chukotka province; the third in Nordkapp, in northern Norway, and then the last one will be in Portugal, in the small town of Sintra. We took many a picture then headed inland.
Fred and I concluded there is no way to find a decent camping spot on the beach, since there are no beach, due to palm tree plantations. I guess the palm oil debate is as delicate in Malaysia as the nickel debate in New Caledonia. Yes it is the main economy, and it provides a huge income to most people, but it also has a tremendous impact on the environment. Both the oil and the nickel industries have destroyed natural habitats for the endemic, and sometimes protected, fauna and flora.

But I digress, so as I was saying, we couldn’t find a place to camp last night, so we decided it’s best to head inland, to the national parks and find a spot there. Our obvious choice was the closest, the “Gunung Panti Recreational Forest” and its waterfalls. The thought of a fresh waterfall cooling us three after a day’s drive was very appealing, but unfortunately the falls were surrounded by a resort, with no place for overlanders and their big truck. So we took the first track leading deep inside the forest and after a bit of mud and sand, we found a quiet clearing. First “real” bushcamp for a long time, and a very first for Fred. I must say, though he’s a true city bloke, he’s handling himself rather well with bushcamping. I haven’t heard him complaining once. I didn’t know how he’d react to the jungle, and where most people would have said “no way I’m sleeping in there”, Fred has been a great companion so far. Even when the 3cm long ants invaded the tent.

It’s great to have Claire back too. Just like she’d never left really but seven weeks is still too way long. I realize now I really missed her in Indonesia.

English breakfast this morning, eggs and bacon with baked beans, and a mug of black coffee. Then pack up and go wash off the sweat in the waterfalls. It’s a lot less inviting when there are dozens of people already bathing in the river, but I couldn’t resist the cold waters so I jumped in while Fred and Claire went to explore the top of the waterfalls.

But it was time to say goodbye to Fred already, tomorrow he’ll be back at work. Who said good things must come to an end? He should be shot. The coffee at the airport had a bitter taste, but that’s the way things go. See you mate, come back any time. I really feel bad about the fact the car wasn’t available sooner, we only got to drive for three days on his short vacation, I really wanted Fred to experience a night in a local village, national parks, mountains, etc… Yeah well overlanding is never a smooth schedule, I hope he understands that.

It was already 5PM, and we were in a major city with very limited bushcamping facilities, so we went to a hotel instead. And oh god this GPS map is useless. I downloaded it for free, and though it has most roads and POI’s on display, the majority of these are not routable. So, going from A to B is just a straight line, as the crow flies. And when the GPS does find a route to guide me, parts of it just make no sense, like exit the highway then get back on it immediately. Or go around the block. I gotta get a good old fashion paper map.
North-East of the small town of Kulai where we were, lies the second biggest national park in Malaysia, Endau Rompin National Park. It is home to wild tigers, rhinos, and a lot of endangered species. It also has a great campsite just for us, 8km deep inside the park.

During the night, we got woken up by an animal. Claire bet it was a tiger, and I bet it wasn’t feline, more like a wild boar or a monkey. The next day we examined the footprints in the sand and clearly, it was no tiger. The ranger who passed by confirmed it, yep, it’s a tapir. Tapir are as big as a pony, with a long nose like an trunk, which it uses to lick ants off their anthill. Well we didn’t see the animal but at least we have photographs of its footprints.

We drove back to KL that day, as I had to pick up my passport from the Thai embassy, and some stuff Vera had left behind at Wendy’s. She kindly agreed to host us again for two nights, so we’ll cook a traditional New Caledonia meal for her: bougna (yam, sweet potato, tapioca, etc cooked in coconut milk with chicken. Kanak people also make it with fish, shrimps, yabbies or bat instead of chicken).

Two days in KL also gave us the opportunity to replace the dead battery for the car, do some proper laundry (unfortunately since the air is so humid, anything hand-washed ends up rotting while it’s hanging), and have another go at durian. I forgot to tell you about durian in my last article.
Durian is a fruit, of the family of cocoa or cotton. It is about the size of a small football, yellow when it’s ripe, with spikes on its thick skin. It has a very distinct smell, most people would actually call it stench rather than smell. It does stink actually, but it’s very hard to describe. I guess it’s a mix between garlic paste, dirty sock and dead rat. In most shopping centres, hotels, city malls, any places really, durian fruit is banned. Yep, banned. It’s the only fruit that is forbidden for its smell.
Most people are put off by this revolting smell, but it is said you either love it or hate it. So I had to try. Last week, neither Sander nor Fred were very impressed by it, but Vera and I thought it was rather yummy. Now it’s Claire’s turn to have a try at this natural wonder. The inside is very creamy, it comes in different cells, with a large pip inside. It’s smelly but it’s tasty. Again, the taste is extremely hard to describe. It’s soft but not very sweet, there is a garlicky aftertaste but it also has a fruity and sweet taste to it. Very odd. I really like it.

Wendy had bought more fruit that night, for Claire to taste. My favourite is the mangosteen. While durian is called the king of fruit, the mangosteen is the queen. Also banned from hotels because the stains it leaves on the sheet never wash off, ever; it has a thick purple skin, with creamy seeds inside. It tastes like champagne really. Without the fizz.

I hate Malaysia’s palm trees, but I absolutely love its variety of fruits. And thank you again Wendy, for your hospitality, your kindness, and your generosity.

Distance to-day: 1490km, total: 30464km.