Ipoh and Pangkor
Ritz Garden Hotel
Can't afford the 'Carlton' in the Ritz so we settled for next best - the 'Garden'. Located in the heart of the newer section of Ipoh town at Jalan Yang Kalsom, the Ritz Garden has been our favourite base in Ipoh for some time.
Our first visit to Ipoh saw us staying at the Seri Malaysia chain's Ipoh branch. The condition of the hotel was really bad - damp carpets, bathroom doors suffering from rot, smell of stale durian in the fridge and it had a really spooky air about it. The other places in Ipoh either looked sleazy, were over-priced or inconveniently located. We thought we would actually skip Ipoh as a night-stop until we found the Ritz Garden. Since then, its been our preferred base in Ipoh.
This is a small 2-star hotel with smart and newly refurbished rooms that are clean and comfortable. At RM145 (low floors) or RM165 (higher floor - actually not much of a difference since the hotel only has about 7 floors with the 8th and 9th taken up by penthouse suites) for a Super Deluxe, this was really value for money.
The rooms are compact and come with either king or twin beds. We usually take inter-connecting rooms for our brood. Views from the upper floors show a scene of rooftops from old shophouses, school fields, schools, churches and in the distance, a bluish hazy outline of the limestone outcrops that surround Ipoh.
On our recent visit though, the room we had a pungent smell of hair oil. We asked if something could be done and the housekeeping section sent a guy with a deodoriser which he enthusiastically sprayed and it was only then that we realised that THAT was the smell - help! We had to air out both rooms in the end by opening up the windows. I would like to think this was isolated though, because we've never experienced that during our previous stays. Other than that, the rooms are sparkling clean.
Breakfast spread in the morning was modest and nothing fancy, usually nasi lemak and condiments as a main course, but the staff were helpful and did not bat an eyelid for our requests for 10 half boiled eggs, 7 empty bowls, soya sauce etc. It might not seem like much but we do get disbelieving looks at other places we've stayed at.
Because the hotel is located in the heart of the new town, it provides easy access to good food. Two traffic lights away north on Jalan Yang Kalsom, past the big central police station, turn left and you'll come to the intersection where three famous names for Ipoh hor fun vie for your attention.
Ipoh also has an interesting old town where many pre-war buildings are left pretty much intact, so much so that Lee Ang chose to film Lust Caution here in the old town as old Hong Kong. Here in the heart of the old town, there's an iconic coffee shop that sells slurpily yummy Ipoh hor fun in the day. Cross the Kinta river and you'll come to what I think is the grandest building in Ipoh, the lovely St Michael's Institution with its soaring gables, graceful verandas and large fields. How I wish we had schools like this in Singapore - so much character, history and charm. Across from that is the old padang and with it, the quintessential club that comes with every 'padang' from KL to Singapore. In Ipoh's case, it is the Royal Ipoh Club. Round the corner, the FMS bar still stands. In the old days, planters would congregate here for their stengahs and some camaraderie on weekends. Today, it still functions as a bar and restaurant, albeit a bit faded around the edges and it is believed to be Malaysia's oldest functioning bar!
We also visited the old railway station, now converted to a hotel. While the facade looked like it was recently whitewashed, the interior looks disappointing. The ground floor has been partitioned off into sleazy small 'massage parlours'. Upstairs, a generous veranda fronts the building. The flooring and fixtures still look original, but the rooms are a real gloomy letdown - low ceilings, musty, cramped, dark with only one tiny window opening up to a grim view of half-abandoned corridors in the other wing. The bathroom retains much of the original fixtures, from the porcelain tubs right down to the flooring. I think the place is actually quite charming and its just a real pity that it is not better restored and maintained. Given the history, the architecture and the location, this place could really work as a lovely boutique hotel.
Overall rating: 7 out of 10. Excellent value!
Swiss Garden Golf Resort and Spa, Damai Laut
The last time we went to Pangkor, we could not get any rooms on the island, so we settled for a rundown place in Lumut which gave me a spooky night experience. This time, we thought we'd be better prepared and book a stay at the Swiss Garden. Lumut accomodation, by the way, is generally limited to very run-down places that are not really worth the money or the time. So we thought we'd pay a bit more and stay at a better place.
From the map given by the resort, Lumut looked deceptively near, so we thought it would be no problem commuting to Lumut if we had to. We thought wrong of course. From the turn-off on Route 5, the main road from Ipoh to Lumut, we followed signs to the Swiss Garden. It took us well over half an hour from Route 5 to the resort. So much so that we wondered if we were actually lost, muttering to ourselves, that the resort can't be that far! It took us past industrial plants, river mouths spanned by three bridges, and seemingly, further and further away from Lumut. Finally we drove down a narrow plantation road, flanked by mangroves and a pineapple and dragon fruit plantation before finally seeing the resort gateway. From the gate, it was another five minutes drive to the resort proper - passing the condo, the golf course, assorted bungalows etc. Geez the place is really really remote!
Because its so remote, most guests are really held captive there because it takes too long to go anywhere else. Under these circumstances, it was no surprise that everything cost a bomb in the hotel. The ferry ride to Pangkor was a whopping RM35 per adult, RM23 per kid. In contrast, the ride from Lumut was just RM10 per adult! Initially, our plan was to arrive early, park the bags at the hotel and take the hotel ferry across. Instead, because it was just so exorbitant, we decided to shelve our Pangkor plan for the next day instead and just spend the day at the resort.
So what to do at a resort? The hotel had a 'recreation centre' which claimed to organise treks etc. But when we checked with them, they said "no treks today because this is rainy season and there are leeches" then in the same breath, they added, "but tomorrow morning you can check with us and see, we may still do a small trek if you really want!" Huh? Got leech or no leech? Er, you mean the leeches disappear overnight? Hmm...
The resort had a beach, but the 'sand' was really loads of coral skeletons. The coarse sand was 'white' but dig deeper and you reach darker soil which made me wonder if this was really a natural beach or an artificial one. The water was not family-friendly because about 5 to 10m out, there is a steep drop-off so you'd really have to watch the smaller kids if they get into the water.
What fascinated me was the ikan bilis! Loads of ikan bilis swimming by me (unnerving at first!), and then beaching and killing themselves. The kids had a good time picking up and counting the dead ikan bilis - there were thousands. There were also free kayaks so KH and the older kids went kayaking.
The pool was nice with an infinity element. We had a lovely moment as a family, all 7 of us, swimming to the infinity wall, perching there to admire the pretty sunset over Pangkor island which we could see over the bay.
The hotel seemed quite full. Because we were basically quite stuck there, we had little choice when it came to food. The kids were happy to have pizza and TV in the room. So KH and I went looking for food in the various restaurants. The Chinese steamboat/noodle place was packed to the gills, so we headed for the main coffeehouse. KH wanted just an ala carte dish but they were not serving ala carte. No choice but to take the buffet which was RM40 per person!! The main dishes on the buffet were all hot and chilli-spicy, which posed a problem for Trin.
The room itself was comfortable but worn about the edges but this is a bit more forgiveable than the Zon because this is a resort and there is a more laidback atmosphere. Note though, that it is not as slick as the website or brochures would have you believe. However, the ick factor for me was a pungent stench of urine in the bathroom. The kids denied having any accidents in the bathroom. When I looked closer at the toilet bowl, I realised that there was a layer of yellow pee on the floor behind the toilet bowl - yeech!! I tried hosing down the place with water but no use, the smell remained.
The next day at breakfast, we were given a table in a corner that was seemingly infested with flies. You couldn't eat without waving or flapping something at those annoying bugs. There was also that strong antiseptic smell of Dettol! What is it with me and with smells this trip?? I keep sniffing out these really strong, awful smells and it really bothers me. The 'Dettol' smell was there in the hotel's public loos, and we checked - we were not sitting near a toilet - but the smell was still there. So I don't know, little things like this matter to me. Just gives me the icky feeling and made me doubt that the hotel's cleanliness standards are up to par.
Again, its the little things that count - coffee and tea in the breakfast buffet is neither served by the wait-staff nor are they prepared in glass pots and left on the heater on the counter. Rather, they have a hot-water dispenser and sachets where you DIY. I guess I am being nit-picky about this, but its about presentation I suppose and as with the Zon hotel in KL, the little details that are lacking really show how much heart the management puts into running a resort/hotel - are they genuinely out to provide good service and a memorable stay or do they see it as just a job, out to make a fast buck and then run the place with boredom and indifference? With the Swiss Garden and with the Zon in KL, looks like its the latter.
Overall rating: 4 out of 10. We would not come here again, nor would we recommend our family and friends to this place either. It is too remote, and the remoteness means we are held hostage at the resort to ridiculous prices. The cleanliness is suspect and the food quite blah. At RM230++ per night per room, er, this is not money well spent. If we ever do go to Pangkor again, we will just make it a day trip from Ipoh itself. Our stay at the tiny 2-star Ritz Garden was a lot more comfortable than at this overpriced 5-star resort!
Malaysia - hotel reviews
This trip, we moved around quite a bit and stayed at various places. These are too long for one post, so I am splitting them up according to cities and destinations.
Kuala Lumpur
Royale Bintang at The Curve, Damansara
This is a smallish hotel that caters to people on business and to shoppers. We took a Family Suite at RM483 a night. Space-wise, its a little small for a suite and more like two connecting rooms that came with a seating area. Our balcony looked out onto Ikano Power-station which was right across the road. The Suite came with a King-sized bed and two twin beds, one bathroom which was connected to both rooms. Keeping the children happy was their own flat-screen in one room and another in the master bedroom. Astro had the works - Disney channel, Discovery, HBO, NHK etc. I liked the NHK channel since anything about Japan fascinates me at the moment. Bathroom was a good size with a bathtub and a separate shower stall.
Being a new hotel, it was quite luxe in its fittings, all dark wood and cream. We generally felt really comfortable there. Breakfast the next morning was also decent in terms of the spread.
The location, being right in the heart of shopping heaven in Damansara, was also a joy. We spent time in Ikano Power station (Ikea is ever the draw, even if you're not looking to buy furniture and even though everything pretty much looks the same as in Singapore) and in The Curve. Being just a stone's throw away from the hotel, we caught a movie at the new Cineleisure complex too. Basically if you're looking for nothing more than retail therapy, the Royale Bintang makes a good pit-stop.
Getting to the heart of KL City would be a problem if you did not have a car, or if you had a car but didn't know the confusing curves of the KL highway system. For us, this was not the case since we were happy to stay here just for retail therapy and didn't fancy moving to KL City. Getting in from the NS Highway was easy-peasy - just take the Federal Highway, look out for signs to Damansara and the new toll Sprint Highway. Follow signage to TTDI and you're set. Can be hair-raising if you're trying this for the first time since the turn-offs could be confusing, but with a good map (pick up from most NS Highway rest-stops), an open mind and a willingness or patience to do detours, u-turns and generally getting lost, you'll be fine.
While we had no problem getting there, getting out to get to Ipoh on the northern end of the NS Highway was difficult. Yes, even we, who have been to KL many, many times, still end up getting lost in traffic. We ended up driving for about an hour in the wrong direction, having taken the Damansara Puchong Highway - big mistake. Would be easier to take the Penchala Link to Mont Kiara and then off to Sungei Buloh which would have taken all of 15min tops. So near and yet so far. In the end, we got back on the Federal Highway, took the Sprint Highway and followed signs north to Ipoh.
Overall rating: I'd say 7.5 out of 10 points
The Zon Hotel
Okay, I've got lots to say about this place. And none of it good! We stayed here on the return leg of our trip, coming back from the northern end of Malaysia.
I'd bought a 3D2N package for a two-bedroom suite at a travel fair in Singapore at RM680. I guess warning bells should have rung loudly when a week after my purchase, no one from the hotel had contacted me to confirm my booking. This was in October. It was only in late November, near our departure that I thought I'd better confirm the booking. They promptly replied and confirmed that I had paid 50% and my booking was confirmed.
The night we arrived, we arrived a bit late - around 8pm. The hotel was located quite centrally, on Jalan Ampang, couple of blocks away from KLCC. We had no difficulty finding it, except we took the 'scenic' route in from Jalan Ipoh which left us wondering for a while if we were lost. Spotting the twin towers lighting like a beacon in the night told us we were not, just taking the long way in.
The hotel lobby looked small, but decent enough, chandeliers, marble everywhere etc. But warning bells started to tinkle when we walked towards our room. Wooden panelling looked worn and in the lift, which was small, the wooden panels were chipped, dented and scratched. The lift opened to a teeny lobby. The marble vanished and the ceramic floors began.
The minute we opened the door, the smell hit us. Musty like an old cupboard. My mood became more grim as I walked through the 'suite'. The place looked like it had not been upgraded in at least 15 years. Dated, tired furniture, wooden wardrobe fixtures with broken slats that looked like something from the 80s. Hey, I like retro, but this is not what I expected from a hotel like this in KL. KH, sitting on the tatty fabric armchair, developed a rash very quickly. The beds had no comforters, just thin sheets pulled over a blanket. The TV in the main sitting area had poor reception, fuzzy images, but the one in the bedroom was worse - it was a teensy 14-inch which had clearly seen better days. I don't know when was the last time I had seen one of these tiny TVs in a hotel room.
I was NOT a happy camper. Called the reception and the girl was all flustered, passing the phone to a Mr Shah. I told them what I thought of the room and that this was not value for money. Had I not paid a 50% deposit, we would have just walked out.
To his credit, Mr Shah seemed very helpful. He apologised and offered to show us a better room - a 'show room' as he put it. KH and I walked over to have a look. It was similar to the one we had - largely the same fixtures and furnishing, but it was a tad better. It was late, the kids were hungry and we'd paid the 50%, so we grudgingly took it. The hotel gave us an extra bed gratis. After we had dinner, settled in, I took a shower and before I had even lathered any soap on, the swirl of water at my feet already had soapy residue! Ugh, where did this come from? Had the tub not been washed since the last occupant? Or was the washing incompletely rinsed? Either way, I made short work of the shower and told everyone - showers only and no tub use please.
At breakfast, the spread was good. But the standards of cleanliness left a great deal to be desired. We took two tables which were previously occupied. The waiter proceeded to wipe down the placemats (which incidentally were made of PAPER and not plastic), wipe the table top and then wanted to reuse the paper placemats. Ugh! Even McDonalds' paper tray mats are discarded and here we're talking about a 4 star hotel! I stopped him and said no, thank you, we'd go without the placemats. He didn't look pleased. Then he proceeded to lay the table. One of the table had an unused setting. The waiter took away the unclean, used cutlery, but wanted to re-use the other unused table cutlery for us. Again, I said no, fresh cutlery please and the guy did not look happy. Breakfast the next morning (yes we stayed another night!) was not much better - they wanted to place us right at the back near the bar counter because it was the only large table left. But the area was so dark and dimly lit you could hardly see your food. I had to ask them to join two smaller tables near the front. They did not look pleased. But argh, good grief, where was the proactive service?! This is not rocket science after all.
Am I being very uber-critical? I think this experience has left me thinking hard about service standards. I believe its the little things that count. The maintenance that showed if your panels are well-maintained, not chipped, dented etc, the standards of cleanliness in how you maintain the rooms, right down to setting the tables for your customers, being helpful and proactive in giving your customers what is important to them, not what is easiest to you, the service provider. When the little things are lacking, the client or customer just perceives one thing - that they don't matter.
When it came to checking out, another glitch. This time, they wanted to charge us for the full amount despite us producing receipts and credit card transaction slips that say we paid half. The attitudes at reception were hostile, wary and not very friendly. They finally told us that when we paid half at the fair in Singapore, the card transaction was declined. We did not know it then because they had used the old-fashioned slide and swipe methods to get the card imprint. KH had to call his bank in Singapore to double-check if this was true etc and that no charges were claimed by the hotel earlier. It was inexplicable since the card we used had no other problems getting through at other hotels and other places.
The whole experience left me uneasy and uncomfortable. Why didn't they email us to let us know the card was declined and hence the 50% deposit was not paid? Why did the marketing people who transacted that sale not inform us when I emailed them to confirm my booking? And had we known of this, we would never have stayed even that first night.
What I took away from the Zon Hotel was that this was a fading hotel trying to make a fast buck. Their brochures showed bright, sparkling new rooms. The reality is a far cry. Its sheer misrepresentation. I felt deceived and I said so to Mr Shah the night before. This is a pity because this hotel has a great location. We just had to cross the road to access the KLCC park, Aquaria, and KLCC itself, which was about a 10min walk away. The KL subway was almost right at the doorstep too. So the location is fantastic. Pity the rooms look like a time warped, musty, faded 80s hotel room and the standards - in cleanliness, maintenance etc are really lacking. All they needed was a facelift, a re-training of their staff and they could do really well.
So overall rating for this hotel is: 3.5 out of 10. Any points given is really due more to location of the hotel and to service recovery on the first night when they offered the extra bed. Everything else really went to the dogs.
Kuala Lumpur
Royale Bintang at The Curve, Damansara
This is a smallish hotel that caters to people on business and to shoppers. We took a Family Suite at RM483 a night. Space-wise, its a little small for a suite and more like two connecting rooms that came with a seating area. Our balcony looked out onto Ikano Power-station which was right across the road. The Suite came with a King-sized bed and two twin beds, one bathroom which was connected to both rooms. Keeping the children happy was their own flat-screen in one room and another in the master bedroom. Astro had the works - Disney channel, Discovery, HBO, NHK etc. I liked the NHK channel since anything about Japan fascinates me at the moment. Bathroom was a good size with a bathtub and a separate shower stall.
Being a new hotel, it was quite luxe in its fittings, all dark wood and cream. We generally felt really comfortable there. Breakfast the next morning was also decent in terms of the spread.
The location, being right in the heart of shopping heaven in Damansara, was also a joy. We spent time in Ikano Power station (Ikea is ever the draw, even if you're not looking to buy furniture and even though everything pretty much looks the same as in Singapore) and in The Curve. Being just a stone's throw away from the hotel, we caught a movie at the new Cineleisure complex too. Basically if you're looking for nothing more than retail therapy, the Royale Bintang makes a good pit-stop.
Getting to the heart of KL City would be a problem if you did not have a car, or if you had a car but didn't know the confusing curves of the KL highway system. For us, this was not the case since we were happy to stay here just for retail therapy and didn't fancy moving to KL City. Getting in from the NS Highway was easy-peasy - just take the Federal Highway, look out for signs to Damansara and the new toll Sprint Highway. Follow signage to TTDI and you're set. Can be hair-raising if you're trying this for the first time since the turn-offs could be confusing, but with a good map (pick up from most NS Highway rest-stops), an open mind and a willingness or patience to do detours, u-turns and generally getting lost, you'll be fine.
While we had no problem getting there, getting out to get to Ipoh on the northern end of the NS Highway was difficult. Yes, even we, who have been to KL many, many times, still end up getting lost in traffic. We ended up driving for about an hour in the wrong direction, having taken the Damansara Puchong Highway - big mistake. Would be easier to take the Penchala Link to Mont Kiara and then off to Sungei Buloh which would have taken all of 15min tops. So near and yet so far. In the end, we got back on the Federal Highway, took the Sprint Highway and followed signs north to Ipoh.
Overall rating: I'd say 7.5 out of 10 points
The Zon Hotel
Okay, I've got lots to say about this place. And none of it good! We stayed here on the return leg of our trip, coming back from the northern end of Malaysia.
I'd bought a 3D2N package for a two-bedroom suite at a travel fair in Singapore at RM680. I guess warning bells should have rung loudly when a week after my purchase, no one from the hotel had contacted me to confirm my booking. This was in October. It was only in late November, near our departure that I thought I'd better confirm the booking. They promptly replied and confirmed that I had paid 50% and my booking was confirmed.
The night we arrived, we arrived a bit late - around 8pm. The hotel was located quite centrally, on Jalan Ampang, couple of blocks away from KLCC. We had no difficulty finding it, except we took the 'scenic' route in from Jalan Ipoh which left us wondering for a while if we were lost. Spotting the twin towers lighting like a beacon in the night told us we were not, just taking the long way in.
The hotel lobby looked small, but decent enough, chandeliers, marble everywhere etc. But warning bells started to tinkle when we walked towards our room. Wooden panelling looked worn and in the lift, which was small, the wooden panels were chipped, dented and scratched. The lift opened to a teeny lobby. The marble vanished and the ceramic floors began.
The minute we opened the door, the smell hit us. Musty like an old cupboard. My mood became more grim as I walked through the 'suite'. The place looked like it had not been upgraded in at least 15 years. Dated, tired furniture, wooden wardrobe fixtures with broken slats that looked like something from the 80s. Hey, I like retro, but this is not what I expected from a hotel like this in KL. KH, sitting on the tatty fabric armchair, developed a rash very quickly. The beds had no comforters, just thin sheets pulled over a blanket. The TV in the main sitting area had poor reception, fuzzy images, but the one in the bedroom was worse - it was a teensy 14-inch which had clearly seen better days. I don't know when was the last time I had seen one of these tiny TVs in a hotel room.
I was NOT a happy camper. Called the reception and the girl was all flustered, passing the phone to a Mr Shah. I told them what I thought of the room and that this was not value for money. Had I not paid a 50% deposit, we would have just walked out.
To his credit, Mr Shah seemed very helpful. He apologised and offered to show us a better room - a 'show room' as he put it. KH and I walked over to have a look. It was similar to the one we had - largely the same fixtures and furnishing, but it was a tad better. It was late, the kids were hungry and we'd paid the 50%, so we grudgingly took it. The hotel gave us an extra bed gratis. After we had dinner, settled in, I took a shower and before I had even lathered any soap on, the swirl of water at my feet already had soapy residue! Ugh, where did this come from? Had the tub not been washed since the last occupant? Or was the washing incompletely rinsed? Either way, I made short work of the shower and told everyone - showers only and no tub use please.
At breakfast, the spread was good. But the standards of cleanliness left a great deal to be desired. We took two tables which were previously occupied. The waiter proceeded to wipe down the placemats (which incidentally were made of PAPER and not plastic), wipe the table top and then wanted to reuse the paper placemats. Ugh! Even McDonalds' paper tray mats are discarded and here we're talking about a 4 star hotel! I stopped him and said no, thank you, we'd go without the placemats. He didn't look pleased. Then he proceeded to lay the table. One of the table had an unused setting. The waiter took away the unclean, used cutlery, but wanted to re-use the other unused table cutlery for us. Again, I said no, fresh cutlery please and the guy did not look happy. Breakfast the next morning (yes we stayed another night!) was not much better - they wanted to place us right at the back near the bar counter because it was the only large table left. But the area was so dark and dimly lit you could hardly see your food. I had to ask them to join two smaller tables near the front. They did not look pleased. But argh, good grief, where was the proactive service?! This is not rocket science after all.
Am I being very uber-critical? I think this experience has left me thinking hard about service standards. I believe its the little things that count. The maintenance that showed if your panels are well-maintained, not chipped, dented etc, the standards of cleanliness in how you maintain the rooms, right down to setting the tables for your customers, being helpful and proactive in giving your customers what is important to them, not what is easiest to you, the service provider. When the little things are lacking, the client or customer just perceives one thing - that they don't matter.
When it came to checking out, another glitch. This time, they wanted to charge us for the full amount despite us producing receipts and credit card transaction slips that say we paid half. The attitudes at reception were hostile, wary and not very friendly. They finally told us that when we paid half at the fair in Singapore, the card transaction was declined. We did not know it then because they had used the old-fashioned slide and swipe methods to get the card imprint. KH had to call his bank in Singapore to double-check if this was true etc and that no charges were claimed by the hotel earlier. It was inexplicable since the card we used had no other problems getting through at other hotels and other places.
The whole experience left me uneasy and uncomfortable. Why didn't they email us to let us know the card was declined and hence the 50% deposit was not paid? Why did the marketing people who transacted that sale not inform us when I emailed them to confirm my booking? And had we known of this, we would never have stayed even that first night.
What I took away from the Zon Hotel was that this was a fading hotel trying to make a fast buck. Their brochures showed bright, sparkling new rooms. The reality is a far cry. Its sheer misrepresentation. I felt deceived and I said so to Mr Shah the night before. This is a pity because this hotel has a great location. We just had to cross the road to access the KLCC park, Aquaria, and KLCC itself, which was about a 10min walk away. The KL subway was almost right at the doorstep too. So the location is fantastic. Pity the rooms look like a time warped, musty, faded 80s hotel room and the standards - in cleanliness, maintenance etc are really lacking. All they needed was a facelift, a re-training of their staff and they could do really well.
So overall rating for this hotel is: 3.5 out of 10. Any points given is really due more to location of the hotel and to service recovery on the first night when they offered the extra bed. Everything else really went to the dogs.
The road less travelled is more fun!
What do people get out of travelling?
See the world, meet people, make friends, have good sex, find love, learn something new, buy something you don't need, buy something you DO need. I guess for me, its all of the above. But more importantly its a chance to get out of my own skin, to be in a place which is different, to see, touch, do what I don't usually do or see.
And to do that, I do like either visiting a place that is very different (one day, I will visit Africa!) or peek into a culture that is unfathomable and intriguing (Japan), or travel in a different way (train as opposed to flight).
Fundamentally, it means I can never travel in a herd. I feel extremely chafed and constrained just thinking about it! When I see groups herded by disinterested tour guides, or hear stories about the kings' ransom in tips these tourists have to pay their guides, I shudder. And I wonder if these tourists really get to see the heart of the places they visit?
Case in point - Venice. By day, the place is packed to the gills with pigeons and assorted tour groups. Everyone congregates in St Marks Square. They see the Grand Canal, they see St Mark's Basilica, they see the Doges Palace and maybe they walk a bit and see the Rialto Bridge.
Then they all pile into their tour buses and go home. But what do they miss?
They miss the quiet snaking lanes that lie far from St Marks. They miss walking on the silent bridges that criss cross the city. They miss the stumbling upon an ancient stone church in a tiny piazza where boys play football while black-dressed mamas go and pray. They miss the transformation of St Marks Square into a huge ballroom by night as the orchestras of the famed cafes take turns to play, warm light streaming from the restaurants onto the great dance floor. They miss sitting down and watching the moors strike the clock while nursing a gelato. And gondolas swaying with the tide at night look very different. Venice by night is pure magic. Tourists miss all this. Travellers don't. Travellers who stay on the island, travel by train or car, are free to wander the narrow streets, saunter beneath lines of laundry in places where Venetians live and tourists do not venture.
I've always travelled alone, independently and each time, my experiences tell me this is the right way to travel. From the first time I took a plane on my own to visit my aunt in Melbourne, I was hooked. I was on my own and the exhilaration of being "on my own" was mind-blowing.
In contrast, my uncle once told me that he hates getting lost, hates the hassle of finding his way around, "negotiating with the locals" and grappling with the language, struggling with backpacks and luggage etc. Hence he would just prefer to take a tour or hire a guide, stay in a posh hotel, have his meals catered, travel in airconditioned limousine comfort. His guide brings him to point A and B and so on, and if he didn't like what he saw, he would just tell the guide to bring him somewhere else. No offence, but I think him would get more kicks out of a National Geographic documentary on TV and save his money that way.
This uncle was the same one who gave me a blank look when I enthused about the culture, the dichotomy of the Japanese personality etc as I tried to sell him on travelling in Japan. His eyes glazed over and when I finished, he asked: So, what is there to SEE?
Sigh.
But for me, and I hope, for my kids, I hope that they would love travelling. There are no extremes, but I think if you travel solo, without a group tour, you'd be able to experience so much more. Touring in a herd tends to insulate because one tends to seek comfort in the familiar, in the tried and true, and stick to the group. But travelling on your own brings up a whole lot of new opportunities and experiences.
Yeah its no fun getting lost when you're really lost and its getting dark and you're tired, hungry and cranky. But the experience will be worth it.
For instance, I will never forget travelling in Tasmania, arriving on a cold, rainy night in Hobart with no accomodation, a scenario worthy of great horror stories. KH and I ended up with a flat in the historic district of Battery Point just by knocking on doors. Little did we expect that flat to be seriously haunted! Our stay there was hair-raising but so memorable!
In a similar scenario on the Big Island of Hawaii - cold, wet, misty and drizzly, no prior accomodation bookings and we ended up following a fern-lined road in the mist to a wooden farmhouse which later turned out to be more than 100 years old. We stood at the door knocking, shivering and hoping for accomodation and who should open the door but Santa Claus himself! Or his twin brother! The man was white-bearded, glasses perched on his nose, twinkly blue eyes and he had an Akita dog the size of a small horse. They were such a welcome sight! We got a room in his attic, and the chance to bathe in the first cedarwood tub we ever saw. Again, memorable. But we'd never have known if we never tried, if we'd never travelled independently.
There will be adventures galore like this, and this is all part of the fun, the excitement of travelling. In my life, I hope I will never be a tourist, but always a traveller. I hope my children will be the same. Life can only be richer this way. The road less travelled may seem rougher, with few assurances and less of the creature comforts, but it will almost always be richer in the long run.
See the world, meet people, make friends, have good sex, find love, learn something new, buy something you don't need, buy something you DO need. I guess for me, its all of the above. But more importantly its a chance to get out of my own skin, to be in a place which is different, to see, touch, do what I don't usually do or see.
And to do that, I do like either visiting a place that is very different (one day, I will visit Africa!) or peek into a culture that is unfathomable and intriguing (Japan), or travel in a different way (train as opposed to flight).
Fundamentally, it means I can never travel in a herd. I feel extremely chafed and constrained just thinking about it! When I see groups herded by disinterested tour guides, or hear stories about the kings' ransom in tips these tourists have to pay their guides, I shudder. And I wonder if these tourists really get to see the heart of the places they visit?
Case in point - Venice. By day, the place is packed to the gills with pigeons and assorted tour groups. Everyone congregates in St Marks Square. They see the Grand Canal, they see St Mark's Basilica, they see the Doges Palace and maybe they walk a bit and see the Rialto Bridge.
Then they all pile into their tour buses and go home. But what do they miss?
They miss the quiet snaking lanes that lie far from St Marks. They miss walking on the silent bridges that criss cross the city. They miss the stumbling upon an ancient stone church in a tiny piazza where boys play football while black-dressed mamas go and pray. They miss the transformation of St Marks Square into a huge ballroom by night as the orchestras of the famed cafes take turns to play, warm light streaming from the restaurants onto the great dance floor. They miss sitting down and watching the moors strike the clock while nursing a gelato. And gondolas swaying with the tide at night look very different. Venice by night is pure magic. Tourists miss all this. Travellers don't. Travellers who stay on the island, travel by train or car, are free to wander the narrow streets, saunter beneath lines of laundry in places where Venetians live and tourists do not venture.
I've always travelled alone, independently and each time, my experiences tell me this is the right way to travel. From the first time I took a plane on my own to visit my aunt in Melbourne, I was hooked. I was on my own and the exhilaration of being "on my own" was mind-blowing.
In contrast, my uncle once told me that he hates getting lost, hates the hassle of finding his way around, "negotiating with the locals" and grappling with the language, struggling with backpacks and luggage etc. Hence he would just prefer to take a tour or hire a guide, stay in a posh hotel, have his meals catered, travel in airconditioned limousine comfort. His guide brings him to point A and B and so on, and if he didn't like what he saw, he would just tell the guide to bring him somewhere else. No offence, but I think him would get more kicks out of a National Geographic documentary on TV and save his money that way.
This uncle was the same one who gave me a blank look when I enthused about the culture, the dichotomy of the Japanese personality etc as I tried to sell him on travelling in Japan. His eyes glazed over and when I finished, he asked: So, what is there to SEE?
Sigh.
But for me, and I hope, for my kids, I hope that they would love travelling. There are no extremes, but I think if you travel solo, without a group tour, you'd be able to experience so much more. Touring in a herd tends to insulate because one tends to seek comfort in the familiar, in the tried and true, and stick to the group. But travelling on your own brings up a whole lot of new opportunities and experiences.
Yeah its no fun getting lost when you're really lost and its getting dark and you're tired, hungry and cranky. But the experience will be worth it.
For instance, I will never forget travelling in Tasmania, arriving on a cold, rainy night in Hobart with no accomodation, a scenario worthy of great horror stories. KH and I ended up with a flat in the historic district of Battery Point just by knocking on doors. Little did we expect that flat to be seriously haunted! Our stay there was hair-raising but so memorable!
In a similar scenario on the Big Island of Hawaii - cold, wet, misty and drizzly, no prior accomodation bookings and we ended up following a fern-lined road in the mist to a wooden farmhouse which later turned out to be more than 100 years old. We stood at the door knocking, shivering and hoping for accomodation and who should open the door but Santa Claus himself! Or his twin brother! The man was white-bearded, glasses perched on his nose, twinkly blue eyes and he had an Akita dog the size of a small horse. They were such a welcome sight! We got a room in his attic, and the chance to bathe in the first cedarwood tub we ever saw. Again, memorable. But we'd never have known if we never tried, if we'd never travelled independently.
There will be adventures galore like this, and this is all part of the fun, the excitement of travelling. In my life, I hope I will never be a tourist, but always a traveller. I hope my children will be the same. Life can only be richer this way. The road less travelled may seem rougher, with few assurances and less of the creature comforts, but it will almost always be richer in the long run.
Rail Odyssey to Thailand
Looks like our Great Rail Odyssey to Thailand is on!
I am now planning our trip up to Bangkok by train, visiting Krabi en route. When I tell people we want to do this, the inevitable reaction is one of sceptism mixed with distaste and horror:
1) Novelty. We've never done this sort of long haul trip by train that requires an overnight stay on a train, so we thought it would be fun to try. At least, even if it proved to be the travel experience from hell, it would be memorable!
2) Malaysia fatigue. We have not covered every inch of the Malayan Peninsula, but enough of the main drag to have some fatigue setting in. It would be nice to go beyond the KL, Malacca, Ipoh, Penang circuit for once.
3) Slow travel is in! It is easier to get on a plane and be at the destination you choose within a few hours instead of days. But while flying gets you from point A to point B in a blink, you do miss a great deal of the landscape below. Sometimes the slowness of the travel gives you space to think. When the palm oil plantations all start to merge into one green blur, maybe thats the time to read a book, write a good travel journal etc. Though how I am going to do that with 5 restless kids, I don't know!
4) Save the earth! Travelling by train leaves a smaller carbon footprint.
5) Meet people. Somehow trains make it easier to talk and break the ice. KH once yakked non-stop to a new-found Dutch friend when we were on the overnight from Amsterdam to Paris. Poor guy never knew what hit him.
6) Loads cheaper. When you have a large family but still want to see the world, fuel surcharges can really be a spanner in the works. For all of us travelling, even on budget flights, the fuel surcharges and taxes and other extras that pad up an airline's bottom line really end up costing us many times more than just the airfare alone. And these days, even budget airlines are not really that 'budget' anymore - when you consider the extra like 'extra luggage allowance' or 'pay x amount and be the first to board', or paying for that packet of cold nasi lemak in the sky, all this does not make it as value-added as it may have seemed.
7) More leg space. At least on a train, one can walk up and down a carriage, or up and down the whole length of the train! One can also visit the restaurant car etc. But on a plane, particularly budget flights, you're really crammed knee to chin in a narrow seats made for size 00 women!
Having said all this, I am prepared to take this trip with an open mind. I will be prepared for kids who get cranky after 2 hours into an 18-hour journey, I will be prepared to do loo gym (ie the acrobatic feats I usually perform when confronted with wet, slimy and smelly toilets!), I will be prepared for suspect train food (though how this can compete with bad airline food I don't know!).
Just bring it on!
I am now planning our trip up to Bangkok by train, visiting Krabi en route. When I tell people we want to do this, the inevitable reaction is one of sceptism mixed with distaste and horror:
- Are you out of your minds?
- Why take the train? Just fly!
- Are you sure the kids can take the train ride?
- With 5 kids????
1) Novelty. We've never done this sort of long haul trip by train that requires an overnight stay on a train, so we thought it would be fun to try. At least, even if it proved to be the travel experience from hell, it would be memorable!
2) Malaysia fatigue. We have not covered every inch of the Malayan Peninsula, but enough of the main drag to have some fatigue setting in. It would be nice to go beyond the KL, Malacca, Ipoh, Penang circuit for once.
3) Slow travel is in! It is easier to get on a plane and be at the destination you choose within a few hours instead of days. But while flying gets you from point A to point B in a blink, you do miss a great deal of the landscape below. Sometimes the slowness of the travel gives you space to think. When the palm oil plantations all start to merge into one green blur, maybe thats the time to read a book, write a good travel journal etc. Though how I am going to do that with 5 restless kids, I don't know!
4) Save the earth! Travelling by train leaves a smaller carbon footprint.
5) Meet people. Somehow trains make it easier to talk and break the ice. KH once yakked non-stop to a new-found Dutch friend when we were on the overnight from Amsterdam to Paris. Poor guy never knew what hit him.
6) Loads cheaper. When you have a large family but still want to see the world, fuel surcharges can really be a spanner in the works. For all of us travelling, even on budget flights, the fuel surcharges and taxes and other extras that pad up an airline's bottom line really end up costing us many times more than just the airfare alone. And these days, even budget airlines are not really that 'budget' anymore - when you consider the extra like 'extra luggage allowance' or 'pay x amount and be the first to board', or paying for that packet of cold nasi lemak in the sky, all this does not make it as value-added as it may have seemed.
7) More leg space. At least on a train, one can walk up and down a carriage, or up and down the whole length of the train! One can also visit the restaurant car etc. But on a plane, particularly budget flights, you're really crammed knee to chin in a narrow seats made for size 00 women!
Having said all this, I am prepared to take this trip with an open mind. I will be prepared for kids who get cranky after 2 hours into an 18-hour journey, I will be prepared to do loo gym (ie the acrobatic feats I usually perform when confronted with wet, slimy and smelly toilets!), I will be prepared for suspect train food (though how this can compete with bad airline food I don't know!).
Just bring it on!
Pulau Besar, Malacca
It was on the spur of the moment that we decided to just pack our bags and head for a weekend north, even though we'd just returned from our holiday there barely two weeks ago.
So on Friday the 13th night, we plonked all 5 kids in the car, strapped them down and off we went again across the Causeway to Malaysia.
Reached the condo in Tanjong Kling late at night - around 11pm, but decided to have a late supper anyway. The kids, who mostly slept on the way up, were now fresh and wide awake and ready for their roast chicken and mee goreng. Yummy stuff in a little makeshift shack structure just outside the condo facing the beach. Then it was back to the condo where the kids ran on all cylinders until 2am before conking off, way after KH and I did.
The next morning we headed for the old Bentona Hotel on the old road to Muar, on the outskirts of Malacca town where we indulged in delicious and cheap dimsum (okay, after converting prices from ringgit to SGD). We'd been coming here practically every visit to Malacca for the past 10 years. A visit to Malacca without dim sum at Bentona is practically unthinkable.
Recently they changed management. It used to be called Yum Yum Restaurant - and for good reason too! - but now its gone something like Ocean-something-or-other). The old red clothed tables were the same, but we noticed the variety of dimsum became a lot larger (good change!) and they also changed the toilet from bowl to squat!! (ugh - bad change!). Prices also went up a bit but I guess these days, prices are heading north everywhere you look and this should be no exception. As usual the old favourites, like the chee cheong fun and the lor mai kai, were good, so were the fried carrot cake, the tiny delicate pieces of steamed fishmeat with assorted toppings and so on. It cost our family of 7 a grand total of RM70 (SGD$29.60) - a similar meal like this at Red Star would easily have gone past SGD$70!
We packed some charsiew bao for our next excursion - the much planned-for, anticipated trip to Pulau Besar which always never seemed to materialise! But this time, we were determined. So armed with some food, a huge water bottle of water, our swim things, floats, we headed for the Anjung jetty, less than an hour away from the city.
The ferry ride cost about RM12 per adult and half price for kids I think and we even had to buy baby Trin a ticket! You would think that having a ticket entitled you to a seat, and the purpose of having tickets is to prevent any over-crowding on board right? Wrong. Gala Marines Sdn Bhd which ran the ferry service to Besar, packed us all in like sardines. We had seats, yes, but the boat was soon packed to the gills with passengers - many standing, sharing seats, perched outside etc. It was very clearly overloaded and both KH and I were worried, having heard stories about ferries which capsized thanks to overloading. It was not safe and at one point, I was making mental notes about where the life jackets were and being thankful that at least three of the kids could swim/tread water if anything happened.
Luckily though the 15min ride was uneventful albeit a bit bumpy and we reached P Besar without incident. From the jetty, it looked really promising - a slightly rocky shoreline on the left of the island with a nice rolling surf, treelined hills sloping upwards from the jetty, a pretty though empty beach on the right and waters which looked (I looked really hard though!) a teensy bit bluer-greener than the mainland.
We headed to the left of the jetty, not sure where to go but just hoping to find a decent beach. We ended up on a strip of sand which disappointingly looked a bit grimy. It was low tide - so much for swimming! - so the waves were breaking far into the horizon. You could see the flotsam of the usual rubbish - plastic bottles, bits of styrofoam, plastic wrappers etc. Made me shake my head - why can't people just take care of a lovely beach instead of leaving their trash everywhere??
The foreshore also looked muddy and rocky and I was worried about stonefish but KH and the kids didn't care. The kids in fact had run down to the murk and picked up a shell they were enthusing over. Poor hermit crab must have been bewildered to be plucked from his peaceful suntan and jostled over by large hands and loud children!
We set up the picnic mat under a tree in a shady spot. Then the kids slathered on sunscreen and headed out to the far horizon about 100m away while I sat there with Trin. It was not part of the plan to sit there and be part of the beach scene but Trin was very very grumpy after falling and scraping her knee so she was alternately crying, alternately complaining in her baby language. She didn't even want to play with the sand and so we were stuck.
By 2pm, the tide had come in and the younger kids could bob about in their tiny floats. Trin decided to be less of a grump and explore the sea/sand. We asked a shopkeeper nearby about other beaches and he pointed us over the hill, saying in excellent English: Go past the golf course, or cut through it, through a bit of jungle, down the slope and you'll see it. About 10min walk.
KH went off to explore that while we hung around making sandcastles, splashing in the shallows. He came back half an hour later and said briefly: Very small beach, but MUCH cleaner. Got to go through some jungle and certainly not a 10min walk. With kids, maybe more like 20min from here, so about 30min walk from the jetty. Got an angmoh couple there and no one else. The beach incline is also steeper - got to watch the kids more closely there.
He was clearly interested enough to go back, but not this visit. It was 3pm and time for us to make tracks. The ferry would leave at 3.30pm. It was 3.15 and we were 20min walk away from the jetty. KH picked up Trin and walked ahead. The eldest two dawdled behind - way behind. We had to stop and yell for them to hurry several times. Right at the end, huffing and puffing, I, yes yours truly, had to do something I had not done in years - RUN! So there I was huffing and pounding the cement of the jetty with heavy steps. The two older kids ran in behind me. We made it though. All hot, tired, sweaty and salty.
We drove back to the condo and hit the showers. Then it was out to the city for dinner with mum, dad, Paul, KY his girlfriend and another steamy humid walk with crowds at Jonker Street. While the rest went for drinks at their favourite Jonker haunt - the Geographer's Cafe, KH and I and the younger kids went back for an early night.
So that was our visit to Pulau Besar - not the cleanest nor most idyllic of beaches, in fact we did laugh about our beach in front of the condo being as good as the one on Besar if not better - but I think the island is worth exploring and I think we will go back. Perhaps next time we will check out the other beach that KH saw or head towards the right of the jetty where I saw some untouched looking beaches as the ferry pulled away.
So on Friday the 13th night, we plonked all 5 kids in the car, strapped them down and off we went again across the Causeway to Malaysia.
Reached the condo in Tanjong Kling late at night - around 11pm, but decided to have a late supper anyway. The kids, who mostly slept on the way up, were now fresh and wide awake and ready for their roast chicken and mee goreng. Yummy stuff in a little makeshift shack structure just outside the condo facing the beach. Then it was back to the condo where the kids ran on all cylinders until 2am before conking off, way after KH and I did.
The next morning we headed for the old Bentona Hotel on the old road to Muar, on the outskirts of Malacca town where we indulged in delicious and cheap dimsum (okay, after converting prices from ringgit to SGD). We'd been coming here practically every visit to Malacca for the past 10 years. A visit to Malacca without dim sum at Bentona is practically unthinkable.
Recently they changed management. It used to be called Yum Yum Restaurant - and for good reason too! - but now its gone something like Ocean-something-or-other). The old red clothed tables were the same, but we noticed the variety of dimsum became a lot larger (good change!) and they also changed the toilet from bowl to squat!! (ugh - bad change!). Prices also went up a bit but I guess these days, prices are heading north everywhere you look and this should be no exception. As usual the old favourites, like the chee cheong fun and the lor mai kai, were good, so were the fried carrot cake, the tiny delicate pieces of steamed fishmeat with assorted toppings and so on. It cost our family of 7 a grand total of RM70 (SGD$29.60) - a similar meal like this at Red Star would easily have gone past SGD$70!
We packed some charsiew bao for our next excursion - the much planned-for, anticipated trip to Pulau Besar which always never seemed to materialise! But this time, we were determined. So armed with some food, a huge water bottle of water, our swim things, floats, we headed for the Anjung jetty, less than an hour away from the city.
The ferry ride cost about RM12 per adult and half price for kids I think and we even had to buy baby Trin a ticket! You would think that having a ticket entitled you to a seat, and the purpose of having tickets is to prevent any over-crowding on board right? Wrong. Gala Marines Sdn Bhd which ran the ferry service to Besar, packed us all in like sardines. We had seats, yes, but the boat was soon packed to the gills with passengers - many standing, sharing seats, perched outside etc. It was very clearly overloaded and both KH and I were worried, having heard stories about ferries which capsized thanks to overloading. It was not safe and at one point, I was making mental notes about where the life jackets were and being thankful that at least three of the kids could swim/tread water if anything happened.
Luckily though the 15min ride was uneventful albeit a bit bumpy and we reached P Besar without incident. From the jetty, it looked really promising - a slightly rocky shoreline on the left of the island with a nice rolling surf, treelined hills sloping upwards from the jetty, a pretty though empty beach on the right and waters which looked (I looked really hard though!) a teensy bit bluer-greener than the mainland.
We headed to the left of the jetty, not sure where to go but just hoping to find a decent beach. We ended up on a strip of sand which disappointingly looked a bit grimy. It was low tide - so much for swimming! - so the waves were breaking far into the horizon. You could see the flotsam of the usual rubbish - plastic bottles, bits of styrofoam, plastic wrappers etc. Made me shake my head - why can't people just take care of a lovely beach instead of leaving their trash everywhere??
The foreshore also looked muddy and rocky and I was worried about stonefish but KH and the kids didn't care. The kids in fact had run down to the murk and picked up a shell they were enthusing over. Poor hermit crab must have been bewildered to be plucked from his peaceful suntan and jostled over by large hands and loud children!
We set up the picnic mat under a tree in a shady spot. Then the kids slathered on sunscreen and headed out to the far horizon about 100m away while I sat there with Trin. It was not part of the plan to sit there and be part of the beach scene but Trin was very very grumpy after falling and scraping her knee so she was alternately crying, alternately complaining in her baby language. She didn't even want to play with the sand and so we were stuck.
By 2pm, the tide had come in and the younger kids could bob about in their tiny floats. Trin decided to be less of a grump and explore the sea/sand. We asked a shopkeeper nearby about other beaches and he pointed us over the hill, saying in excellent English: Go past the golf course, or cut through it, through a bit of jungle, down the slope and you'll see it. About 10min walk.
KH went off to explore that while we hung around making sandcastles, splashing in the shallows. He came back half an hour later and said briefly: Very small beach, but MUCH cleaner. Got to go through some jungle and certainly not a 10min walk. With kids, maybe more like 20min from here, so about 30min walk from the jetty. Got an angmoh couple there and no one else. The beach incline is also steeper - got to watch the kids more closely there.
He was clearly interested enough to go back, but not this visit. It was 3pm and time for us to make tracks. The ferry would leave at 3.30pm. It was 3.15 and we were 20min walk away from the jetty. KH picked up Trin and walked ahead. The eldest two dawdled behind - way behind. We had to stop and yell for them to hurry several times. Right at the end, huffing and puffing, I, yes yours truly, had to do something I had not done in years - RUN! So there I was huffing and pounding the cement of the jetty with heavy steps. The two older kids ran in behind me. We made it though. All hot, tired, sweaty and salty.
We drove back to the condo and hit the showers. Then it was out to the city for dinner with mum, dad, Paul, KY his girlfriend and another steamy humid walk with crowds at Jonker Street. While the rest went for drinks at their favourite Jonker haunt - the Geographer's Cafe, KH and I and the younger kids went back for an early night.
So that was our visit to Pulau Besar - not the cleanest nor most idyllic of beaches, in fact we did laugh about our beach in front of the condo being as good as the one on Besar if not better - but I think the island is worth exploring and I think we will go back. Perhaps next time we will check out the other beach that KH saw or head towards the right of the jetty where I saw some untouched looking beaches as the ferry pulled away.
Pulau Ketam and Seremban
So its the June hols and we need to make a quick trip up north. We've cancelled the Sibu jaunt because (a) its too expensive and (b) KH' s schedule is packed tight for the coming weeks for a big project he is working on.
Once again, we packed all the 5 kids, backpacks, chocs, tidbits, biscuits, cereal, cushions, towels, blankets, books into the car and off we went. Have to say that Immigration was a breeze - no queue at all and we got through it in less than 5 five minutes. Where was the jam for the Mas Selamat search? Non-existent! Malaysian Immigration was also a breeze and we sailed through quickly, no more tedious filling up of those pesky white immigration forms.
We left Singapore around 4pm and arrived in Malacca at 7.00pm. We had our usual favourite wan ton mee at the grimy hole-in-the-wall stall in Jalan Bendahara - Isaac rates it 9 out of 10 in both Singapore and Malaysia. Don't look too closely at the eeky condition the eatery is in and you'll enjoy the food a lot more.
We stayed a night in Malacca. The next day, we repacked our haversacks, loading it with clothes for 3 days and then left the condo in Tanjong Kling for KL.
En route, we stopped in Seremban. We've never been there, conveniently bypassing it to KL all the time. To satisfy our curiosity (and because we're running out of places to go in Malaysia!) we stopped in Seremban. It looked like any other Malaysian town - with streets of faded shophouses, the ubiquitious shopping mall in the heart of town and depressingly run-down grey faceless buildings. But beyond that, its got a lovely green lung at its heart. The Lake Gardens, sounds more impressive than it looks, is really just two strips of water more pondlike in scale than 'lake'. But it is on the fringe of some jungle, surrounded by parkland, lots of playgrounds, greenery and meandering lawns of big upscale houses.
We stopped to visit the old gothic-style Catholic Church of the Visitation. I liked the coolness of the interior and the high ceilings. The thick stone walls help to keep the place cool and hushed from street noise. Inside, an Indian woman was kneeling on a pew and her young son, obediently following suit.
Seremban didn't seem to have much to hold our attention so we took off on route 51 to Sri Menanti. This is the old capital of the state, the seat of power of the Minangkabau people who once ruled Negri Sembilan. The drive took us through the hills, past padi fields, rivers, country schools, vegetable patches, kampung houses with the trademark minangkabau horn roof.
The road was busy and we often had to tail the convoy of cars and big trucks. But once we turned off on the tiny country road, the road was free of traffic, long and winding and I said quite happily: "This is the sort of road I like which is great for driving!" And so it was - except for the occasional, okay, many - patches and lumps of cowdung on the road. KH had to do the cowdung slalom.
Sri Menanti is off the beaten track and few tourists come here. But here stands the old palace - fittingly called Istana Lama - and the interesting thing about it is, it was built without the use of a single nail!
The palace, which does not look like one of those huge imposing castles you may imagine, is really a 4-storey extended kampung house. Built on stilts, stairs extend upwards to the formal receiving area, the 'court' where the king presided over with his courtiers, a formal dining room complete with elegant table set-up (included candles on an elaborate candelabra!). There are also two other private rooms here with beds, dusty and musty. Up another flight of stairs and its the royal family's private quarters - rooms for the royal couple, their children and beds with fading yellow silk canopies that look like they have not been slept in for years. Quite eerie actually, the effect. Then up a very steep stairway to the treasury and a view of the countryside!
We were the only visitors to the place and the kids scampered about freely. Luckily there was nothing valuable or breakable that could be knocked over. Probably because we were the only ones there and because the place looked old and worn, smelling of mothballs, it had a very spooky feel to it. The old high wrought iron beds, with crumbling lace curtains, yellow silk pillows etc in darkened rooms looked particularly scary. I got the creepy feeling particularly strongly in the treasury tower. I dared Isaac $500 to spend the night alone in the treasury room or in any room in the palace. Needless to say he passed on it.
Once out of Seremban and Sri Menanti, we reached KL in quick time. Picked my sister Vivian up at Mid Valley and then headed to Mont Kiara where she very kindly lent us her apartment for our stay. That was after we traded insults in sisterly fashion about flea-infested guestrooms in her house and her ferocious dogs who could snap Trin's head off very casually. Nevertheless, she loves me and cheerfully gave us the keys to her apartment so we could get out of her hair while we were in KL.
Mont Kiara is THE expat enclave in KL. Its filled with exclusive gated communities, towering condominiums and international schools. Its like the Holland V of KL. Everywhere we went there were angmo faces or Korean/Japanese faces. Security was tight. There were security guards at every street corner, not only at the condominiums.
Vi's apartment was on the 15th floor and looked out over the Sungei Buloh-KL highway to the NS Highway. Far below on adjacent land was a patch of squatter housing - densely packed, dirt roads and zinc roofs. Only a canal separates the rich from the poor I realised. The contrast could not have been more obvious. In a split second, I visualised a Bastille moment.
The apartment was fully furnished (only lacking in toilet paper and Astro!!) in very hip retro style. There were 3 bedrooms but not enough beds, so the two elder kids bunked in the living room on the sofas while the rest of us took the master bedroom with the mattress protector making a comfy nest on the floor for Owain and Cait.
Dinner was at Sri Hartamas in the district next to Mont Kiara and after dinner we hit the movies! The Curve at Damansara is another upscale development, filled with upmarket shops, eateries and a spanking new Cineleisure where we caught Indy on the big screen. Driving to and from Damansara back to Mont Kiara was easy via the largely empty Penchala Link highway and its tunnels.
The next day, we headed off to Pulau Ketam. Pulau Ketam, or Crab Island, is a tiny island off the coast of the old port of Klang. From KL, we took the Federal Highway down and its just one straight road which sliced through Old Klang and then down again, ending at the water's edge in old Port Swettenham. Hard to believe that the place, now dull and quiet, was once a bustling port about 100 years ago. The jetty to Pulau Ketam, is just a stone's throw from the train station. So either way, getting here from KL is easy. Either drive on the Federal Highway or just take a commuter train down. We wanted to do the train option, but it would have been a hassle to take two cabs to Sentral and then take a train down. The waiting, calling for cab, etc would all add another 45min to what would be just an easy 30min drive down.
The boats leave every hour at the 40th minute. There was one waiting when we got there. Don't expect a lot. It is a long, very long, speedboat. Airconditioned with dirt-streaked portholes and chairs with holes and collapsing backs. Strictly cattle class. The boat was packed with day-trippers and residents of Ketam.
The boat ride passed through a calm channel between two islands, fronted by mangroves. We could see eagles swooping in the sky above at times. Finally Ketam came into view - first the fish farms in open water, then a horizon of stilt houses, painted in pink, blues and the occasional yellow. Wooden planks on stilts lead out from the houses over the water. The water was greenish and clean with schools of fish and the occasional long gar fish. The breeze was stiff with gun-grey skies filled with pregnant clouds.
From the jetty to the heart of town, there was not much to see, mainly brackish muddy ground with the odd mudskipper. It was not exactly a village of stilts as I imagined it to be. In my romantic visions, I had pictured a Venice of sorts. Not so at all.
We wandered into town, past a hotel, the police station, a tiny greenhouse garden, past seafood restaurants and sundry stalls, past a furiously vibrating foosball table manned by men and boys intensely focused on their game, past friendly Ketam islanders who reminded us of the dried sea stuff that was on sale. The lane opened up into a 'square' with a temple, a wayang stage and mock rock grottoes that had the guanyin statue standing within. Kinda like the Catholic Lourdes grotto we see in churches!
We wandered further in, houses flanking us on both sides. KH and the older kids ran ahead to see what was there and if it was worth our while to walk so far. While they were gone, the skies burst open and let loose a torrent of rain. Owain, Trin and I took shelter in someone's porch. Which happened to double as a storefront with a bench. They were selling (what else?) the dried seafood stuff like fish maw, dried cured cuttlefish, dried oysters, dried scallops etc.
Owain kept bugging me to buy him an 'umbrella' - one of those with no handles but a strap to go round the head. I refused. But because I was taking refuge in the porch area, I felt bad about not buying anything. In the end, I ended up buying a packet of fish maw, a packet of dried chilli cuttle fish and a drink!
We sat there and watched children from the next house play in the rain. No Xbox, no Gameboy, no computer, no fancy toys and what do kids do for fun? They improvise and play in the rain! They would run out with a container, fill it up with water roaring down from the rain gutters, then fling them at each other with shouts of laughter. Every once in a while, an older girl would come to the open door and yell in Mandarin: Stop playing in the rain right now! But of course, who listens to the bossy older sister?
Owain and I watched, fascinated. No doubt the thought that ran through his mind must have been and envious: sigh, mom would NEVER let me do this... lucky them...
I, on the other hand, was sitting there thinking lofty thoughts about how innocent kids are, how much fun they have, how our kids no longer play like this and how come their mom didn't come out of the house to freak out about wet clothes and catching their death of cold!
Eventually, of course their mother comes out and chews them all out, hands them a towel and a dry set of clothes, scolding a little. Then Owain turns to me and we had this little exchange.
Owain: "They have five children too mom."
Me: "Maybe not all of them are her children. Some could be cousins or neighbours?"
Owain: "The mummy looks old to have so many children."
Me: "I also have five children. You mean I look old?"
Owain: "No... You look young mummy!" (and he says this very earnestly and seriously)
Me: "Why do you say so?"
Owain: "Your skin. Its so... (he wrinkles his face struggling to find the word) ...straight!"
I think he meant smooth, but thats okay. I hugged and kissed him anyway and said thank you.
Soon after the rain stopped and the second half of the tribe ran back to us. We headed back down to the 'main street', pausing enroute to watch a Hokkien opera in full swing.
We ended up having a seafood lunch at a restaurant recommended by an islander whose porch KH and the kids took shelter in. We had chilli crabs (cooked dry with curry leaves and no tomato-based gravy - quite unlike the Singapore version), steamed clams with ginger, chili padi and garlic (yummy!), sotong with sweet sambal and mantis prawns and a plate of horfun. The bill came up to RM96 which we thought was a bit steep. They must have 'ketok' us a bit since it was obvious we were tourists. Still, the meal was satisfying and it was unusual but nice to have seafood in the middle of the day.
After the meal, the kids were engrossed in the nearby patch of brackish, swampy mud and enthusiastically spotted 3 sea snakes (one about 50cm long!), a mudskipper and a fat orange crab.
We had to run for the ferry back to the mainland which is a bit of a pity because I would have liked to walk around the island a bit more. Maybe next time.
The rest of our trip passed uneventfully. We spent the day at the Times Square Theme Park, then went back to Malacca where we indulged in our favourite pastimes - eating, shopping, swimming in the pool. And before you know it, we're home...
Once again, we packed all the 5 kids, backpacks, chocs, tidbits, biscuits, cereal, cushions, towels, blankets, books into the car and off we went. Have to say that Immigration was a breeze - no queue at all and we got through it in less than 5 five minutes. Where was the jam for the Mas Selamat search? Non-existent! Malaysian Immigration was also a breeze and we sailed through quickly, no more tedious filling up of those pesky white immigration forms.
We left Singapore around 4pm and arrived in Malacca at 7.00pm. We had our usual favourite wan ton mee at the grimy hole-in-the-wall stall in Jalan Bendahara - Isaac rates it 9 out of 10 in both Singapore and Malaysia. Don't look too closely at the eeky condition the eatery is in and you'll enjoy the food a lot more.
We stayed a night in Malacca. The next day, we repacked our haversacks, loading it with clothes for 3 days and then left the condo in Tanjong Kling for KL.
En route, we stopped in Seremban. We've never been there, conveniently bypassing it to KL all the time. To satisfy our curiosity (and because we're running out of places to go in Malaysia!) we stopped in Seremban. It looked like any other Malaysian town - with streets of faded shophouses, the ubiquitious shopping mall in the heart of town and depressingly run-down grey faceless buildings. But beyond that, its got a lovely green lung at its heart. The Lake Gardens, sounds more impressive than it looks, is really just two strips of water more pondlike in scale than 'lake'. But it is on the fringe of some jungle, surrounded by parkland, lots of playgrounds, greenery and meandering lawns of big upscale houses.
We stopped to visit the old gothic-style Catholic Church of the Visitation. I liked the coolness of the interior and the high ceilings. The thick stone walls help to keep the place cool and hushed from street noise. Inside, an Indian woman was kneeling on a pew and her young son, obediently following suit.
Seremban didn't seem to have much to hold our attention so we took off on route 51 to Sri Menanti. This is the old capital of the state, the seat of power of the Minangkabau people who once ruled Negri Sembilan. The drive took us through the hills, past padi fields, rivers, country schools, vegetable patches, kampung houses with the trademark minangkabau horn roof.
The road was busy and we often had to tail the convoy of cars and big trucks. But once we turned off on the tiny country road, the road was free of traffic, long and winding and I said quite happily: "This is the sort of road I like which is great for driving!" And so it was - except for the occasional, okay, many - patches and lumps of cowdung on the road. KH had to do the cowdung slalom.
Sri Menanti is off the beaten track and few tourists come here. But here stands the old palace - fittingly called Istana Lama - and the interesting thing about it is, it was built without the use of a single nail!
The palace, which does not look like one of those huge imposing castles you may imagine, is really a 4-storey extended kampung house. Built on stilts, stairs extend upwards to the formal receiving area, the 'court' where the king presided over with his courtiers, a formal dining room complete with elegant table set-up (included candles on an elaborate candelabra!). There are also two other private rooms here with beds, dusty and musty. Up another flight of stairs and its the royal family's private quarters - rooms for the royal couple, their children and beds with fading yellow silk canopies that look like they have not been slept in for years. Quite eerie actually, the effect. Then up a very steep stairway to the treasury and a view of the countryside!
We were the only visitors to the place and the kids scampered about freely. Luckily there was nothing valuable or breakable that could be knocked over. Probably because we were the only ones there and because the place looked old and worn, smelling of mothballs, it had a very spooky feel to it. The old high wrought iron beds, with crumbling lace curtains, yellow silk pillows etc in darkened rooms looked particularly scary. I got the creepy feeling particularly strongly in the treasury tower. I dared Isaac $500 to spend the night alone in the treasury room or in any room in the palace. Needless to say he passed on it.
Once out of Seremban and Sri Menanti, we reached KL in quick time. Picked my sister Vivian up at Mid Valley and then headed to Mont Kiara where she very kindly lent us her apartment for our stay. That was after we traded insults in sisterly fashion about flea-infested guestrooms in her house and her ferocious dogs who could snap Trin's head off very casually. Nevertheless, she loves me and cheerfully gave us the keys to her apartment so we could get out of her hair while we were in KL.
Mont Kiara is THE expat enclave in KL. Its filled with exclusive gated communities, towering condominiums and international schools. Its like the Holland V of KL. Everywhere we went there were angmo faces or Korean/Japanese faces. Security was tight. There were security guards at every street corner, not only at the condominiums.
Vi's apartment was on the 15th floor and looked out over the Sungei Buloh-KL highway to the NS Highway. Far below on adjacent land was a patch of squatter housing - densely packed, dirt roads and zinc roofs. Only a canal separates the rich from the poor I realised. The contrast could not have been more obvious. In a split second, I visualised a Bastille moment.
The apartment was fully furnished (only lacking in toilet paper and Astro!!) in very hip retro style. There were 3 bedrooms but not enough beds, so the two elder kids bunked in the living room on the sofas while the rest of us took the master bedroom with the mattress protector making a comfy nest on the floor for Owain and Cait.
Dinner was at Sri Hartamas in the district next to Mont Kiara and after dinner we hit the movies! The Curve at Damansara is another upscale development, filled with upmarket shops, eateries and a spanking new Cineleisure where we caught Indy on the big screen. Driving to and from Damansara back to Mont Kiara was easy via the largely empty Penchala Link highway and its tunnels.
The next day, we headed off to Pulau Ketam. Pulau Ketam, or Crab Island, is a tiny island off the coast of the old port of Klang. From KL, we took the Federal Highway down and its just one straight road which sliced through Old Klang and then down again, ending at the water's edge in old Port Swettenham. Hard to believe that the place, now dull and quiet, was once a bustling port about 100 years ago. The jetty to Pulau Ketam, is just a stone's throw from the train station. So either way, getting here from KL is easy. Either drive on the Federal Highway or just take a commuter train down. We wanted to do the train option, but it would have been a hassle to take two cabs to Sentral and then take a train down. The waiting, calling for cab, etc would all add another 45min to what would be just an easy 30min drive down.
The boats leave every hour at the 40th minute. There was one waiting when we got there. Don't expect a lot. It is a long, very long, speedboat. Airconditioned with dirt-streaked portholes and chairs with holes and collapsing backs. Strictly cattle class. The boat was packed with day-trippers and residents of Ketam.
The boat ride passed through a calm channel between two islands, fronted by mangroves. We could see eagles swooping in the sky above at times. Finally Ketam came into view - first the fish farms in open water, then a horizon of stilt houses, painted in pink, blues and the occasional yellow. Wooden planks on stilts lead out from the houses over the water. The water was greenish and clean with schools of fish and the occasional long gar fish. The breeze was stiff with gun-grey skies filled with pregnant clouds.
From the jetty to the heart of town, there was not much to see, mainly brackish muddy ground with the odd mudskipper. It was not exactly a village of stilts as I imagined it to be. In my romantic visions, I had pictured a Venice of sorts. Not so at all.
We wandered into town, past a hotel, the police station, a tiny greenhouse garden, past seafood restaurants and sundry stalls, past a furiously vibrating foosball table manned by men and boys intensely focused on their game, past friendly Ketam islanders who reminded us of the dried sea stuff that was on sale. The lane opened up into a 'square' with a temple, a wayang stage and mock rock grottoes that had the guanyin statue standing within. Kinda like the Catholic Lourdes grotto we see in churches!
We wandered further in, houses flanking us on both sides. KH and the older kids ran ahead to see what was there and if it was worth our while to walk so far. While they were gone, the skies burst open and let loose a torrent of rain. Owain, Trin and I took shelter in someone's porch. Which happened to double as a storefront with a bench. They were selling (what else?) the dried seafood stuff like fish maw, dried cured cuttlefish, dried oysters, dried scallops etc.
Owain kept bugging me to buy him an 'umbrella' - one of those with no handles but a strap to go round the head. I refused. But because I was taking refuge in the porch area, I felt bad about not buying anything. In the end, I ended up buying a packet of fish maw, a packet of dried chilli cuttle fish and a drink!
We sat there and watched children from the next house play in the rain. No Xbox, no Gameboy, no computer, no fancy toys and what do kids do for fun? They improvise and play in the rain! They would run out with a container, fill it up with water roaring down from the rain gutters, then fling them at each other with shouts of laughter. Every once in a while, an older girl would come to the open door and yell in Mandarin: Stop playing in the rain right now! But of course, who listens to the bossy older sister?
Owain and I watched, fascinated. No doubt the thought that ran through his mind must have been and envious: sigh, mom would NEVER let me do this... lucky them...
I, on the other hand, was sitting there thinking lofty thoughts about how innocent kids are, how much fun they have, how our kids no longer play like this and how come their mom didn't come out of the house to freak out about wet clothes and catching their death of cold!
Eventually, of course their mother comes out and chews them all out, hands them a towel and a dry set of clothes, scolding a little. Then Owain turns to me and we had this little exchange.
Owain: "They have five children too mom."
Me: "Maybe not all of them are her children. Some could be cousins or neighbours?"
Owain: "The mummy looks old to have so many children."
Me: "I also have five children. You mean I look old?"
Owain: "No... You look young mummy!" (and he says this very earnestly and seriously)
Me: "Why do you say so?"
Owain: "Your skin. Its so... (he wrinkles his face struggling to find the word) ...straight!"
I think he meant smooth, but thats okay. I hugged and kissed him anyway and said thank you.
Soon after the rain stopped and the second half of the tribe ran back to us. We headed back down to the 'main street', pausing enroute to watch a Hokkien opera in full swing.
We ended up having a seafood lunch at a restaurant recommended by an islander whose porch KH and the kids took shelter in. We had chilli crabs (cooked dry with curry leaves and no tomato-based gravy - quite unlike the Singapore version), steamed clams with ginger, chili padi and garlic (yummy!), sotong with sweet sambal and mantis prawns and a plate of horfun. The bill came up to RM96 which we thought was a bit steep. They must have 'ketok' us a bit since it was obvious we were tourists. Still, the meal was satisfying and it was unusual but nice to have seafood in the middle of the day.
After the meal, the kids were engrossed in the nearby patch of brackish, swampy mud and enthusiastically spotted 3 sea snakes (one about 50cm long!), a mudskipper and a fat orange crab.
We had to run for the ferry back to the mainland which is a bit of a pity because I would have liked to walk around the island a bit more. Maybe next time.
The rest of our trip passed uneventfully. We spent the day at the Times Square Theme Park, then went back to Malacca where we indulged in our favourite pastimes - eating, shopping, swimming in the pool. And before you know it, we're home...
Quick getaway but new stuff to see
Okay, we're heading up north again for a quick getaway.
We originally wanted to spend a couple of days in Sibu Island (but realised this was quite expensive for our large family. The quote for 3D2N, all meals, transport etc included was RM2209!) and then later move on to Kuantan, toying with the idea of a stay at the Hyatt there (we were there in 98 and loved it but have since read that the hotel is not well-maintained and not worth the price) before heading in to KL and so on. But thanks to KH's work, we can't do all that now and will have to settle for an abbreviated version.
So next week we are heading up to KL. En route, we plan to stop at Seremban to check out the Minangkabau architecture and to see the old palaces of the Minangkabau sultanate. From KL, we plan to take a train down to the old Port Klang, then take a ferry to Pulau Ketam (aka crab island). We'll check out some crustaceans cooked in chilli (yum!) and some shellfish, wander around the island a bit before heading back to KL.
Indy Jones and Narnia are on in the cinemas in KL, so we plan to catch these there - so much cheaper at half price!
After that, back to Malacca, explore Pulau Besar which we said we would do but have not gotten down to, and then just hang around by the condo pool, the beach etc, checking out our favourite food and dvds before heading home satisfied.
Now all I've got to do is to find the right hotel for us in KL. Still in mourning for MiCasa which is going thru extensive reno and hardpressed to find anything else of equal value.
We originally wanted to spend a couple of days in Sibu Island (but realised this was quite expensive for our large family. The quote for 3D2N, all meals, transport etc included was RM2209!) and then later move on to Kuantan, toying with the idea of a stay at the Hyatt there (we were there in 98 and loved it but have since read that the hotel is not well-maintained and not worth the price) before heading in to KL and so on. But thanks to KH's work, we can't do all that now and will have to settle for an abbreviated version.
So next week we are heading up to KL. En route, we plan to stop at Seremban to check out the Minangkabau architecture and to see the old palaces of the Minangkabau sultanate. From KL, we plan to take a train down to the old Port Klang, then take a ferry to Pulau Ketam (aka crab island). We'll check out some crustaceans cooked in chilli (yum!) and some shellfish, wander around the island a bit before heading back to KL.
Indy Jones and Narnia are on in the cinemas in KL, so we plan to catch these there - so much cheaper at half price!
After that, back to Malacca, explore Pulau Besar which we said we would do but have not gotten down to, and then just hang around by the condo pool, the beach etc, checking out our favourite food and dvds before heading home satisfied.
Now all I've got to do is to find the right hotel for us in KL. Still in mourning for MiCasa which is going thru extensive reno and hardpressed to find anything else of equal value.
Out for now
Geez, looks like KH refuses to go on the (Mini) Epic Rail Journey.
Somewhat miffed and with some defiance, I said I would go myself!
Actually, come to think of it, why not? My only concern would be the children. Should I bring them all if I were going alone? Or just bring 1 or 2?
Someone asked me why I would even consider going by train since BKK is just a two-hour cheap budget flight away? I don't know. It occured to me that the world is increasingly connected - 6 hours to Beijing, 8 hours to Sydney, 7 hours to Tokyo, 7 hours to Delhi... we can be anywhere in a matter of hours.
But why be in a hurry?
The journey there is really half the fun. Slowing the process means real travel - seeing the landscape unfold, seeing how people live and work along the way, interacting with fellow travelers and with lots of time for silent reflection and thinking. My roomie KJ has inspired me with his travelers tales of travelling by train, the old fashioned way, up to Bangkok. He waxed lyrical with his reminisces of white-washed Thai temples gleaming in the evening sun, endless paid fields, hawkers who thrust their wares through train windows, and a bad case of food poisoning that left him prostrate with yellow-robed monks praying over him!
So while I can't afford the E&O express, I think I can afford to take the slow scenic train up to Bangkok! And I am tempted enough to do it all by myself too!
Somewhat miffed and with some defiance, I said I would go myself!
Actually, come to think of it, why not? My only concern would be the children. Should I bring them all if I were going alone? Or just bring 1 or 2?
Someone asked me why I would even consider going by train since BKK is just a two-hour cheap budget flight away? I don't know. It occured to me that the world is increasingly connected - 6 hours to Beijing, 8 hours to Sydney, 7 hours to Tokyo, 7 hours to Delhi... we can be anywhere in a matter of hours.
But why be in a hurry?
The journey there is really half the fun. Slowing the process means real travel - seeing the landscape unfold, seeing how people live and work along the way, interacting with fellow travelers and with lots of time for silent reflection and thinking. My roomie KJ has inspired me with his travelers tales of travelling by train, the old fashioned way, up to Bangkok. He waxed lyrical with his reminisces of white-washed Thai temples gleaming in the evening sun, endless paid fields, hawkers who thrust their wares through train windows, and a bad case of food poisoning that left him prostrate with yellow-robed monks praying over him!
So while I can't afford the E&O express, I think I can afford to take the slow scenic train up to Bangkok! And I am tempted enough to do it all by myself too!
The (Mini) Epic Rail Journey 1
Okay, so this is is not cast in stone.
But its an idea that I am very very intrigued with, very excited about and have started working on. And so far, what I've found looks very very promising and very do-able.
I am thinking of taking the family on a long rail journey from Singapore up to Bangkok and maybe Chiangmai. Along the way, we will cover KL, Penang, Hua Hin and Bangkok and maybe Chiangmai. Likely we'll fly back from Bangkok or Chiangmai on a budget airline. Tentative plans indicate that this will be a 17Day trip - wow! And should cost in the region of $4000 - includes everything except pocket money.
Tentative dates: Dec 5 to Dec 21.
Oh and why is this called the (Mini) Epic Rail Journey 1? Because I am so intrigued by all the possibilities there are! The idea of travelling overland from Asia to Europe via trains has always fascinated me. Some day I'll do it. So you can be sure there will be more epic journeys by train ahead in my lifetime. But first, all epic journeys have to begin somewhere right? Starting with this one from Singapore to Bangkok - a 'mini' one by the standards of many savvier travelers who have traversed the continents of the world by train.
Will post more when I develop this plan further.
But its an idea that I am very very intrigued with, very excited about and have started working on. And so far, what I've found looks very very promising and very do-able.
I am thinking of taking the family on a long rail journey from Singapore up to Bangkok and maybe Chiangmai. Along the way, we will cover KL, Penang, Hua Hin and Bangkok and maybe Chiangmai. Likely we'll fly back from Bangkok or Chiangmai on a budget airline. Tentative plans indicate that this will be a 17Day trip - wow! And should cost in the region of $4000 - includes everything except pocket money.
Tentative dates: Dec 5 to Dec 21.
Oh and why is this called the (Mini) Epic Rail Journey 1? Because I am so intrigued by all the possibilities there are! The idea of travelling overland from Asia to Europe via trains has always fascinated me. Some day I'll do it. So you can be sure there will be more epic journeys by train ahead in my lifetime. But first, all epic journeys have to begin somewhere right? Starting with this one from Singapore to Bangkok - a 'mini' one by the standards of many savvier travelers who have traversed the continents of the world by train.
Will post more when I develop this plan further.
Fraser's Hill and KL - Dec 2007
Fresh from Japan and hence, kinda broke, we decided to make an abbreviated trip up north this time. We usually go about two to three times a year to Malaysia - its nearest and cheapest a place for all of us to visit on a regular basis. Plus the fact that Mama's got a condo in Malacca does help to save us some of the hotel money.
But because we'd been going up so often, the ennui factor is setting in for us. Malacca and KL are gradually losing their shine because we don't quite know what else *new* there is to do there. Apart from the eating and shopping, that is.
So this trip we decided to just go to Ipoh (our new favourite haunt) and then check out Fraser's Hill (about two hrs away from KL by car) and of course, one last stay at our beloved MiCasa Hotel which would be closing for good thanks to a change in hotel management and some rebuilding plans.
First stop: KL. The weather was sucky when we left Singapore that afternoon. It rained buckets with a real thunderstorm flashing and clanging in the skies. I was just glad the house was renovated and there were no more leaks. Weather like that really made me just want to stay home and enjoy my now leak-proof house.
But the car was already packed to the brim with the usual assortment of gadgets (four different mobile phones and MP3 players plus a variety of CDs in case we get sick of the 400 tracks in the MP3 players), games (a chess set and travel Ludo), snacks (very unhealthy ones loaded with enough sugar to fuel my kids and get their engines going all 5hours of the way to KL!), pillows and cushions (half the living room's cushions now ended up on the second row of the car), blankets and comforters (you'd think they were going to sleep in the car except that these spoiled kids would definitely baulk at any suggestion of spending the night in the car - nothing but nice hotel rooms with cable tv for them!). When you add in luggage (we used backpacks from our Japan trip), and packed the kids into their seats and childseats, boosters etc, there would hardly be any space left to move! I'm just glad to be sitting in front where I have some decent legroom. heh.
So off we went, windshield wipers wiping furiously, in the midst of a drenchingly bad downpour. We made good time, no jams at the 2nd Link. KH drove all the way for 2hours until the rest stop at Ayer Keroh outside Malacca. We stopped for dinner at the KFC. Its quite a nice rest-stop - relatively clean toilets, a smallish mall selling souvenirs and several foodstalls and restaurants. The rain was intermittently a drizzle and a drench but it never ceased for a minute.
We reached Aunty Vivian's house in the outskirt of KL around 8.30pm. The dogs went wild at the gate. While my kids are generally calm and loving of animals, they were initially a bit nervous with Aunty Vi's bunch of noisy snarly dogs. It took a while for the human cousins and the doggie cousins to get to know each other all over again but by the end of the evening, all was generally peaceful! Vi and I headed out for drinks and a heart-to-heart sister-yak while the kids and men and dogs stayed home (hmm, there is some word association thing going on there...).
We were out bright and early the next morning. Vi and Paul had to go to work in the office and we had the second half of the journey to complete - to Ipoh! Brekkie was wanton mee KL-style swimming in black sauce, at a hawker centre at the foot of the hill below Vi's house. No chilli added to the wanton mee - just green cut chilli on the side. For us, used to the Singapore style, it took some getting used to. I remember the first time we ate this at the same place, I thought it rather tasteless and bland. But this time, it tasted loads better. Guess my tastebuds just grew used to it.
Bellies full, we headed to Ipoh. Weather started nice but ended drizzly again as we neared Ipoh. Have to say the limestone coverd cliffs and caves overlooking the NS Highway looked extra majestic and mysterious with the rain and the mist. We initially planned to stop at the river and the hot spring near the turn-off to Cameron Highlands. But with the weather so poor, we changed our minds.
We checked into our favourite Ipoh hotel - the Ritz Garden - a smallish business hotel but with immaculate rooms that are very good value for money. For some obscure reason, hotels in Ipoh (not exactly an international destination) were charging ridiculously high rates for rooms that were either seriously dated, in poor condition and generally just not worth it. We were miserable our first trip to Ipoh thanks to the lousy accomodation values. But thankfully one trip ago, we found this place and we decided this is the best for us - decent accomodation, right in the heart of the city and with good prices. This time, instead of taking two rooms, we took the Family Deluxe at RM230 - came with a king bed and a queen bed - comfy enough for all of us.
From there, the rest of the afternoon was spent at Tambun, at the Sunway Lagoon water theme park. Being the school hols, it was more crowded that the last time we were there but still quite manageable compared to the KL version. Since Trin is now old enough to join in the fun, I decided to make one of my rare appearances in the pool. Good friends of mine know how rarely I put on a swimsuit and head in. Even my kids were slack-jawed when they realised that mom was joining them in the pool this time.
I didn't go for the rides or the water slides, but I really liked the hot springs. Er okay, not the most pristine of conditions - best to close one eye against the sandy feel of the pool bottom, the strands of leaf, grass and other assorted debris floating past. Nonetheless it was pleasantly warm - not to the point of the rotemburo in Kangetsu Ryokan, but a nice memory of it. Lunch was a yummy mee goreng fried on the spot by a skinny Indian man in a splattered apron. The cooking looked sloppy and rather messy, and you really would not want to look too hard at the cooking area, but somehow it came out smelling fantastic and tasting just the right amount of spicy, sweet and salty. Very yum. Funny how swimming and water games always makes us ravenous - the mee goreng was devoured in quick time, spicy though it was.
The kids had a good time in the wave pool, the kids' pool and of course the hot springs. I think I spent about 2hours max out there before taking Trin with me, nursing her and snoozing under a shelter while the rest played on. The weather was dark grey, cloudy and drizzly. And yet, despite that, I still managed to get sunburnt - the only one in the family to do so! I ended up with lobster pink shoulders that the kids evilly loved to poke in the days ahead. I don't know how I always manage to do this. KH loves to bring up the old story of how we went kayaking in the sea off Changi and Ubin for 2hours and I ended up with 3rd deg burns while he was just nicely brownish-pink.
So I wasn't a very happy camper that evening. When it came to washing up, even worse. I have this aversion to bathing in public bathrooms - something to do with grotty bathroom floors, strands of other people's hair floating past and sometimes, squabs of wet tissue paper etc. Ugh. I think the bathroom of Sunway is already better than most others by Malaysian standards, but even then I just could not get over the ick factor. So I just rinsed and changed Trin and myself instead of bathing there. One reason why I hate going swimming.
I was grouchy until we hit the hotel, bathed and changed and went out for dinner in the old part of Ipoh town, braving the incessant rain because we were going to have my favourite food in Ipoh - Ipoh hor fun!! Despite the rain, the place was packed with people. The flat, thin white slippery noodles are coated with chicken stock and oil and they just slide right down the throat with one slurp - ooh heavenly! With a poached chicken, stir-fried crunchy bean sprouts, and accompanied by a tawny brown iced longan tea, it was a simple but so deliciously satisfying meal. And one that I can only have once a year. Just writing this makes me feel so hungry for it. Sigh.
Next day we checked out after breakfast and drove to Fraser's Hill.
All the way there, I was nervous. The weather was not really lifting and we'd been travelling thus far under constant rain, cloudy skies. I had heard that the road was old and very narrow in places. With roads slick with rain, I was a bit apprehensive about the drive up. More importantly, I was worried about throwing up. I have this thing about motion sickness and I do throw up very easily on windy roads - threw up once on the road coming down from Cameron Highlands, threw up three times on the windy road to Hana in Maui, Hawaii, turned green on the Amalfi coast. Even going up windy public carparks set me off. And I know that once I get sick like this, I really need lots of time just lying horizontally, sleeping it off etc - by which time it would be time to go downhill again!!
I armed myself with barf bags (the children cheerfully reminded me: Mum, here's your NTUC plastic bag in case you puke!) and anti-nausea meds, but these did not always work. So I was just bracing myself for the snaky drive up. Not looking forward to it.
We turned off from the NS Highway towards KL at the Tanjung Malim exit. From there it was trunk roads into KKB (Kuala Kubu Bahru), the last major town before the road climbed.
I was pleasantly surprised to note that the first approach was smooth and straight - it was part of a new road that was built thanks to the Sungei Selangor Dam project. The dam was built to alleviate flooding in the valley and to provide a source of hydroelectric energy/water needs for the area. To do that, the river had to be diverted a bit and a large valley flooded. The project meant relocating the orang asli village in the valley to higher ground. I don't know enough about anthropology or orang asli to comment if this was the right thing to do - to uproot a community from the familiar, impacting their lifestyles and habits along the way to build a dam but I imagine this is a constant struggle in many other countries, the most significant of our times being the impact of the Three Gorges Dam in China. Here in Malaysia, albeit on a much much smaller scale is a similar situation.
We stopped at the dam. It was a lovely site ringed with forested hills and with 'islands', once hills of the land now flooded, floating in the middle. What caught our fascination was the curve of the overflow - a jelly mould of water rushing over and down. It gave me a wobbly feeling bordering on a bit of vertigo to look at that and imagine the rush of water. We took the time to wander about the visitor's centre taking some pictures before I very reluctantly got back into the car, knowing that from this point on, it would be windy and uphill the rest of the way.
We passed the new orang asli village - spanking new, designed nicely to resemble a posh eco-lodge, but I didn't think it had the spirit and character of the orang asli original village - that would have been lost. I remember thinking as I saw it: I wouldn't mind living in one of these rather sophisticated tropical-modern designs, but that's me - a city girl attuned to city life. And if that is so, then how must the orang asli feel? Even though they did choose the design of the houses etc, there was no denying that they were still uprooted. Okay, not getting into this debate here.
We passed over an old bridge, a rushing river beneath, waterfalls and yes, the road started winding up. As we wended higher and higher, the air got noticeably cooler, the vegetation changed a little and we saw lots more giant bamboo. KH tried to drive as slowly as possible but I did end up feeling queasy. Not to the point of throwing up, but vertigic and giddy. About two-thirds of the way up, we passed a Hindu shrine and this marked the spot where Sir Henry Gurney, the British Commissioner to Malaya was killed, ambushed by Communist guerillas in the Emergency back in the 50s. I stopped to look for a plaque that marked the place but could not find it.
Apparently it was just meant to be the usual Communist terrorist ambush - they did not bargain on nabbing the Commissioner himself. Henry Gurney and his wife were heading up to Fraser's Hill when they were ambushed. The car was peppered with gunfire. Gurney, according to anecdotes, got out and walked calmly away from the car, as if to draw fire away from the car and his wife who was still crouched on the floor of the car. It was only later that the Communists discovered they had killed Gurney and needless to say, it was a huge triumph for them and marked a low point in the Emergency. Read The War of the Running Dogs: How Malaya Defeated the Communist Guerrillas, 1948-60 by Noel Barber - a very excellent book that I've read over and over again until dog-earred.
After that point, we reached The Gap - which was nothing more than a quaint old black and white English-styled building. As in the old days, it still provided tea and meals for travellers making their way up to Fraser's Hill.
From The Gap it was another 9km of snaking road uphill. And this is where it got challenging. The road was a one-way road, largely flanked by overgrown bushes and a precipice on one side. It was misty - such that we could barely see what was 10m ahead of the car. Phone connections were continually disrupted since KH's office was also trying to get him at that time. We inched our way up but it was so winding that even Gillian complained that she was feeling ill. Miraculously I did not puke. About 20min to half an hour after we left The Gap, we pulled into the carpark of our hotel.
We booked a night at Frasers Pine Resort. The development is built into the hillside and there is no lift to the apartments so we had a lot of stair-climbing to do. Note also that there is no shelter from the carpark to the apartment, so the stairs were slick with rain and debris, the handrails were rusty and broken in areas due to wear and tear. The apartment had three bedrooms although we booked only a two-bedroom one. There was a damp, musty smell in the place. The furniture was very dated and worn, broken in places and the bed mattress was lumpy. Everything did not look well-maintained in the least and it had a somewhat eerie air about it. The only good thing going for it was the huge terrace outside the master bedroom and the living room. From there we could see far into the horizon of hilltops stretching bluish-grey, as the sea of clouds made islands of them.
It took us a while to recover and settle down. The rain was still intermittentlydrizzly. Later in the afternoon, we set out to explore Fraser's Hill. It was a hill station built on seven hills. We passed a paddock which advertised horseriding and archery, a small golf course, which used to be the old tin mine. Right at the end of the road was the town 'centre', a small area whose landmark is an old ivy-covered clock tower, now used as a roundabout for cars. The road leading down on the left leads all the way down to the Gap - this used to be the old road. The road we came up on is the 'new' road built recently - in the past, when there was only one road up or down, and it being a single-lane carriage, there were fixed times for cars to go up and cars to go down. But with the new road, this schedule was abolished.
We stopped at the town centre, had lunch. Everywhere was quiet. There were few tourists and some shops were closed. We liked the many quaint old buildings, the Dispensary, the old police station, the post office and so on. A drive round the area took us past many rambling old bungalows. We even saw a familiar Singapore 'celebrity' - a TCS 8 actor, who looked mildly self-conscious to be recognised by our car-load of kids who had their heads out the window looking at him. But apart from driving around looking at houses, unless you're keen on trekking and birdwatching, there's really not much to be done at Frasers Hill.
We dawdled at a rather damp and flooded playground for a while, drove past a small lake and wanted to get on a paddle boat, but alas it was closed. All in all, it was a sleepy quiet place and we didn't quite know what to do. The good thing about Frasers is that at least the air was still cool - unlike Genting or Cameron Highlands. With all the development going on at Camerons, it is no longer a cool hill station but rather muggy and hot these days.
We hung around the apartment until it was dinner time. Ended up with steamboat in a hotel down the road. We were the only group there in the dining room aside from one other family - again adding to the rather desolate air that Frasers Hill had. Steamboat was okay but it was very pricey - about RM180 for a simple spread, largely noodles since the kids were such noodle-fans.
Frasers Hill had generally, a lonely, spooky air about her. Maybe it was the mist, or the many old houses standing in the hills. Or maybe it was the closeness of the jungle - one didn't get so much a sense of Frasers Hill cutting into the jungle as it was the other way around - the jungle encroaching on a small tired township.
Next morning, we left after breakfast. The air was white with cloud and mist as we slowly, gingerly made our way down. Credit goes to KH who went so slowly that you could get out and walk beside the car and still not be outrun. I didn't throw up despite the many twists and turns. Going down was more pleasant that going up. We rolled the windows down to catch the morning air, drawing in deep lungfuls of it. From time to time we heard the piercing calls of an animal, probably a primate somewhere in the trees. At one point, it sounded incredibly close but try as we did, we could not catch sight of it. The sun had finally come out and the sight of it hitting the trees was lovely.
It took us about an hour to make our way all the way down to KKB again and another hour and a half stuck in trunk road traffic before we re-joined the NS Highway. From there, it was an easy 40min drive into the heart of KL city where we easily found our way to the MiCasa hotel.
The next two days were spent watching a movie (our favourite pastime in KL since it was much cheaper to do this here than in Singapore), checking out the new mall in Mid Valley, the Gardens (too posh and expensive for me!) and wandering around chinatown.
Well now that I finally got my curiosity about Frasers Hill satisfied, I doubt I will go back. I did not enjoy the hairpin bends that led all the way to the top, and since I am not very keen on birdwatching or trekking, I don't think I'll be back. Still, I did like the rather sad air of mystery, desolation and forgotten-ness that the resort had.
Oh well, more places in Malaysia to uncover, now that I can tick Frasers Hill off my list.
Pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/chongbrood/KLAndFraserSHill2007
But because we'd been going up so often, the ennui factor is setting in for us. Malacca and KL are gradually losing their shine because we don't quite know what else *new* there is to do there. Apart from the eating and shopping, that is.
So this trip we decided to just go to Ipoh (our new favourite haunt) and then check out Fraser's Hill (about two hrs away from KL by car) and of course, one last stay at our beloved MiCasa Hotel which would be closing for good thanks to a change in hotel management and some rebuilding plans.
First stop: KL. The weather was sucky when we left Singapore that afternoon. It rained buckets with a real thunderstorm flashing and clanging in the skies. I was just glad the house was renovated and there were no more leaks. Weather like that really made me just want to stay home and enjoy my now leak-proof house.
But the car was already packed to the brim with the usual assortment of gadgets (four different mobile phones and MP3 players plus a variety of CDs in case we get sick of the 400 tracks in the MP3 players), games (a chess set and travel Ludo), snacks (very unhealthy ones loaded with enough sugar to fuel my kids and get their engines going all 5hours of the way to KL!), pillows and cushions (half the living room's cushions now ended up on the second row of the car), blankets and comforters (you'd think they were going to sleep in the car except that these spoiled kids would definitely baulk at any suggestion of spending the night in the car - nothing but nice hotel rooms with cable tv for them!). When you add in luggage (we used backpacks from our Japan trip), and packed the kids into their seats and childseats, boosters etc, there would hardly be any space left to move! I'm just glad to be sitting in front where I have some decent legroom. heh.
So off we went, windshield wipers wiping furiously, in the midst of a drenchingly bad downpour. We made good time, no jams at the 2nd Link. KH drove all the way for 2hours until the rest stop at Ayer Keroh outside Malacca. We stopped for dinner at the KFC. Its quite a nice rest-stop - relatively clean toilets, a smallish mall selling souvenirs and several foodstalls and restaurants. The rain was intermittently a drizzle and a drench but it never ceased for a minute.
We reached Aunty Vivian's house in the outskirt of KL around 8.30pm. The dogs went wild at the gate. While my kids are generally calm and loving of animals, they were initially a bit nervous with Aunty Vi's bunch of noisy snarly dogs. It took a while for the human cousins and the doggie cousins to get to know each other all over again but by the end of the evening, all was generally peaceful! Vi and I headed out for drinks and a heart-to-heart sister-yak while the kids and men and dogs stayed home (hmm, there is some word association thing going on there...).
We were out bright and early the next morning. Vi and Paul had to go to work in the office and we had the second half of the journey to complete - to Ipoh! Brekkie was wanton mee KL-style swimming in black sauce, at a hawker centre at the foot of the hill below Vi's house. No chilli added to the wanton mee - just green cut chilli on the side. For us, used to the Singapore style, it took some getting used to. I remember the first time we ate this at the same place, I thought it rather tasteless and bland. But this time, it tasted loads better. Guess my tastebuds just grew used to it.
Bellies full, we headed to Ipoh. Weather started nice but ended drizzly again as we neared Ipoh. Have to say the limestone coverd cliffs and caves overlooking the NS Highway looked extra majestic and mysterious with the rain and the mist. We initially planned to stop at the river and the hot spring near the turn-off to Cameron Highlands. But with the weather so poor, we changed our minds.
We checked into our favourite Ipoh hotel - the Ritz Garden - a smallish business hotel but with immaculate rooms that are very good value for money. For some obscure reason, hotels in Ipoh (not exactly an international destination) were charging ridiculously high rates for rooms that were either seriously dated, in poor condition and generally just not worth it. We were miserable our first trip to Ipoh thanks to the lousy accomodation values. But thankfully one trip ago, we found this place and we decided this is the best for us - decent accomodation, right in the heart of the city and with good prices. This time, instead of taking two rooms, we took the Family Deluxe at RM230 - came with a king bed and a queen bed - comfy enough for all of us.
From there, the rest of the afternoon was spent at Tambun, at the Sunway Lagoon water theme park. Being the school hols, it was more crowded that the last time we were there but still quite manageable compared to the KL version. Since Trin is now old enough to join in the fun, I decided to make one of my rare appearances in the pool. Good friends of mine know how rarely I put on a swimsuit and head in. Even my kids were slack-jawed when they realised that mom was joining them in the pool this time.
I didn't go for the rides or the water slides, but I really liked the hot springs. Er okay, not the most pristine of conditions - best to close one eye against the sandy feel of the pool bottom, the strands of leaf, grass and other assorted debris floating past. Nonetheless it was pleasantly warm - not to the point of the rotemburo in Kangetsu Ryokan, but a nice memory of it. Lunch was a yummy mee goreng fried on the spot by a skinny Indian man in a splattered apron. The cooking looked sloppy and rather messy, and you really would not want to look too hard at the cooking area, but somehow it came out smelling fantastic and tasting just the right amount of spicy, sweet and salty. Very yum. Funny how swimming and water games always makes us ravenous - the mee goreng was devoured in quick time, spicy though it was.
The kids had a good time in the wave pool, the kids' pool and of course the hot springs. I think I spent about 2hours max out there before taking Trin with me, nursing her and snoozing under a shelter while the rest played on. The weather was dark grey, cloudy and drizzly. And yet, despite that, I still managed to get sunburnt - the only one in the family to do so! I ended up with lobster pink shoulders that the kids evilly loved to poke in the days ahead. I don't know how I always manage to do this. KH loves to bring up the old story of how we went kayaking in the sea off Changi and Ubin for 2hours and I ended up with 3rd deg burns while he was just nicely brownish-pink.
So I wasn't a very happy camper that evening. When it came to washing up, even worse. I have this aversion to bathing in public bathrooms - something to do with grotty bathroom floors, strands of other people's hair floating past and sometimes, squabs of wet tissue paper etc. Ugh. I think the bathroom of Sunway is already better than most others by Malaysian standards, but even then I just could not get over the ick factor. So I just rinsed and changed Trin and myself instead of bathing there. One reason why I hate going swimming.
I was grouchy until we hit the hotel, bathed and changed and went out for dinner in the old part of Ipoh town, braving the incessant rain because we were going to have my favourite food in Ipoh - Ipoh hor fun!! Despite the rain, the place was packed with people. The flat, thin white slippery noodles are coated with chicken stock and oil and they just slide right down the throat with one slurp - ooh heavenly! With a poached chicken, stir-fried crunchy bean sprouts, and accompanied by a tawny brown iced longan tea, it was a simple but so deliciously satisfying meal. And one that I can only have once a year. Just writing this makes me feel so hungry for it. Sigh.
Next day we checked out after breakfast and drove to Fraser's Hill.
All the way there, I was nervous. The weather was not really lifting and we'd been travelling thus far under constant rain, cloudy skies. I had heard that the road was old and very narrow in places. With roads slick with rain, I was a bit apprehensive about the drive up. More importantly, I was worried about throwing up. I have this thing about motion sickness and I do throw up very easily on windy roads - threw up once on the road coming down from Cameron Highlands, threw up three times on the windy road to Hana in Maui, Hawaii, turned green on the Amalfi coast. Even going up windy public carparks set me off. And I know that once I get sick like this, I really need lots of time just lying horizontally, sleeping it off etc - by which time it would be time to go downhill again!!
I armed myself with barf bags (the children cheerfully reminded me: Mum, here's your NTUC plastic bag in case you puke!) and anti-nausea meds, but these did not always work. So I was just bracing myself for the snaky drive up. Not looking forward to it.
We turned off from the NS Highway towards KL at the Tanjung Malim exit. From there it was trunk roads into KKB (Kuala Kubu Bahru), the last major town before the road climbed.
I was pleasantly surprised to note that the first approach was smooth and straight - it was part of a new road that was built thanks to the Sungei Selangor Dam project. The dam was built to alleviate flooding in the valley and to provide a source of hydroelectric energy/water needs for the area. To do that, the river had to be diverted a bit and a large valley flooded. The project meant relocating the orang asli village in the valley to higher ground. I don't know enough about anthropology or orang asli to comment if this was the right thing to do - to uproot a community from the familiar, impacting their lifestyles and habits along the way to build a dam but I imagine this is a constant struggle in many other countries, the most significant of our times being the impact of the Three Gorges Dam in China. Here in Malaysia, albeit on a much much smaller scale is a similar situation.
We stopped at the dam. It was a lovely site ringed with forested hills and with 'islands', once hills of the land now flooded, floating in the middle. What caught our fascination was the curve of the overflow - a jelly mould of water rushing over and down. It gave me a wobbly feeling bordering on a bit of vertigo to look at that and imagine the rush of water. We took the time to wander about the visitor's centre taking some pictures before I very reluctantly got back into the car, knowing that from this point on, it would be windy and uphill the rest of the way.
We passed the new orang asli village - spanking new, designed nicely to resemble a posh eco-lodge, but I didn't think it had the spirit and character of the orang asli original village - that would have been lost. I remember thinking as I saw it: I wouldn't mind living in one of these rather sophisticated tropical-modern designs, but that's me - a city girl attuned to city life. And if that is so, then how must the orang asli feel? Even though they did choose the design of the houses etc, there was no denying that they were still uprooted. Okay, not getting into this debate here.
We passed over an old bridge, a rushing river beneath, waterfalls and yes, the road started winding up. As we wended higher and higher, the air got noticeably cooler, the vegetation changed a little and we saw lots more giant bamboo. KH tried to drive as slowly as possible but I did end up feeling queasy. Not to the point of throwing up, but vertigic and giddy. About two-thirds of the way up, we passed a Hindu shrine and this marked the spot where Sir Henry Gurney, the British Commissioner to Malaya was killed, ambushed by Communist guerillas in the Emergency back in the 50s. I stopped to look for a plaque that marked the place but could not find it.
Apparently it was just meant to be the usual Communist terrorist ambush - they did not bargain on nabbing the Commissioner himself. Henry Gurney and his wife were heading up to Fraser's Hill when they were ambushed. The car was peppered with gunfire. Gurney, according to anecdotes, got out and walked calmly away from the car, as if to draw fire away from the car and his wife who was still crouched on the floor of the car. It was only later that the Communists discovered they had killed Gurney and needless to say, it was a huge triumph for them and marked a low point in the Emergency. Read The War of the Running Dogs: How Malaya Defeated the Communist Guerrillas, 1948-60 by Noel Barber - a very excellent book that I've read over and over again until dog-earred.
After that point, we reached The Gap - which was nothing more than a quaint old black and white English-styled building. As in the old days, it still provided tea and meals for travellers making their way up to Fraser's Hill.
From The Gap it was another 9km of snaking road uphill. And this is where it got challenging. The road was a one-way road, largely flanked by overgrown bushes and a precipice on one side. It was misty - such that we could barely see what was 10m ahead of the car. Phone connections were continually disrupted since KH's office was also trying to get him at that time. We inched our way up but it was so winding that even Gillian complained that she was feeling ill. Miraculously I did not puke. About 20min to half an hour after we left The Gap, we pulled into the carpark of our hotel.
We booked a night at Frasers Pine Resort. The development is built into the hillside and there is no lift to the apartments so we had a lot of stair-climbing to do. Note also that there is no shelter from the carpark to the apartment, so the stairs were slick with rain and debris, the handrails were rusty and broken in areas due to wear and tear. The apartment had three bedrooms although we booked only a two-bedroom one. There was a damp, musty smell in the place. The furniture was very dated and worn, broken in places and the bed mattress was lumpy. Everything did not look well-maintained in the least and it had a somewhat eerie air about it. The only good thing going for it was the huge terrace outside the master bedroom and the living room. From there we could see far into the horizon of hilltops stretching bluish-grey, as the sea of clouds made islands of them.
It took us a while to recover and settle down. The rain was still intermittentlydrizzly. Later in the afternoon, we set out to explore Fraser's Hill. It was a hill station built on seven hills. We passed a paddock which advertised horseriding and archery, a small golf course, which used to be the old tin mine. Right at the end of the road was the town 'centre', a small area whose landmark is an old ivy-covered clock tower, now used as a roundabout for cars. The road leading down on the left leads all the way down to the Gap - this used to be the old road. The road we came up on is the 'new' road built recently - in the past, when there was only one road up or down, and it being a single-lane carriage, there were fixed times for cars to go up and cars to go down. But with the new road, this schedule was abolished.
We stopped at the town centre, had lunch. Everywhere was quiet. There were few tourists and some shops were closed. We liked the many quaint old buildings, the Dispensary, the old police station, the post office and so on. A drive round the area took us past many rambling old bungalows. We even saw a familiar Singapore 'celebrity' - a TCS 8 actor, who looked mildly self-conscious to be recognised by our car-load of kids who had their heads out the window looking at him. But apart from driving around looking at houses, unless you're keen on trekking and birdwatching, there's really not much to be done at Frasers Hill.
We dawdled at a rather damp and flooded playground for a while, drove past a small lake and wanted to get on a paddle boat, but alas it was closed. All in all, it was a sleepy quiet place and we didn't quite know what to do. The good thing about Frasers is that at least the air was still cool - unlike Genting or Cameron Highlands. With all the development going on at Camerons, it is no longer a cool hill station but rather muggy and hot these days.
We hung around the apartment until it was dinner time. Ended up with steamboat in a hotel down the road. We were the only group there in the dining room aside from one other family - again adding to the rather desolate air that Frasers Hill had. Steamboat was okay but it was very pricey - about RM180 for a simple spread, largely noodles since the kids were such noodle-fans.
Frasers Hill had generally, a lonely, spooky air about her. Maybe it was the mist, or the many old houses standing in the hills. Or maybe it was the closeness of the jungle - one didn't get so much a sense of Frasers Hill cutting into the jungle as it was the other way around - the jungle encroaching on a small tired township.
Next morning, we left after breakfast. The air was white with cloud and mist as we slowly, gingerly made our way down. Credit goes to KH who went so slowly that you could get out and walk beside the car and still not be outrun. I didn't throw up despite the many twists and turns. Going down was more pleasant that going up. We rolled the windows down to catch the morning air, drawing in deep lungfuls of it. From time to time we heard the piercing calls of an animal, probably a primate somewhere in the trees. At one point, it sounded incredibly close but try as we did, we could not catch sight of it. The sun had finally come out and the sight of it hitting the trees was lovely.
It took us about an hour to make our way all the way down to KKB again and another hour and a half stuck in trunk road traffic before we re-joined the NS Highway. From there, it was an easy 40min drive into the heart of KL city where we easily found our way to the MiCasa hotel.
The next two days were spent watching a movie (our favourite pastime in KL since it was much cheaper to do this here than in Singapore), checking out the new mall in Mid Valley, the Gardens (too posh and expensive for me!) and wandering around chinatown.
Well now that I finally got my curiosity about Frasers Hill satisfied, I doubt I will go back. I did not enjoy the hairpin bends that led all the way to the top, and since I am not very keen on birdwatching or trekking, I don't think I'll be back. Still, I did like the rather sad air of mystery, desolation and forgotten-ness that the resort had.
Oh well, more places in Malaysia to uncover, now that I can tick Frasers Hill off my list.
Pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/chongbrood/KLAndFraserSHill2007
Journeys Past
I'm toying with the idea of archiving my old trips - all the way back 20 years + from my first solo trip sans parents, first time on a plane - to stay with my aunt in Melbourne, all the way to the trips in Europe, to Bali, our road trips in Malaysia - you'd see how I grew with travel and how travel grew with me when the size of my family grew - from solo to couple to couple with toddler, then two children, three, four and now five.
I think I'll do it in reverse. One post for each trip.
So last major family trip was I think in Malaysia, so hmm, let me do that first.
I think I'll do it in reverse. One post for each trip.
So last major family trip was I think in Malaysia, so hmm, let me do that first.
Final thoughts on Japan
Thought I'd tie up all the loose ends and list how much it costs, good sites which I relied on for research and inspiration and some last thoughts (though that can never be since I am still thinking/reading/lusting over Japan!) on the trip!
Some idea of costs:
Airfare for me, Gillian and Trin on SQ : Free - we used Krisflyer points! :-)
SQ's fuel surcharges and taxes: S$460 (can't escape! :-( )
Airfare for KH, Owain, Caitlin and Isaac on NorthWest (taxes included): S$2725
Shinkansen, 3N in hotel New Miyako for all of us: $2700
4N Hotel in Tokyo - 2 triple rooms in the Family Fifty's Maihama: S$1100
1N Ryokan Kangetsu standard room for 5: S$180
Spending money (which includes food, transportation, admission and shopping): S$2000 - note: I actually brought S$3000 but when we came home, realised that we actually had S$1000 in yen left!
Total cost: S$9165
The yen to the Singapore dollar: S$1 to 126yen
Good sites:
Kids Web Japan
Japan National Tourist Organisation
Japan Guide
Francois Jordaan's and Kelly Henderson's Japan blog
Solo Japan
Books that I liked:
Lonely Planet Tokyo
Lonely Planet Kyoto
Lonely Planet Japan
Japan: The Rough Guide
Japan: Frommer's Guide
Lost Japan
Places I haunted for research: JNTO office in Robinson Towers, NATAS travel fair, JTB in Takashimaya
People I talked to for research: my colleagues Chow Chee Yong and Helen Ho who lived in Japan for several years and Synthia Lim who went to Japan and who swopped info with me since she was heading over there around the same time too!
Places that I missed and would like to cover the next time round (with or without kids!):
Saga-Arashiyama Torokko train in Kyoto from Arashiyama to Kameoka
Hakone
Ghibli Museum
Kanazawa
Takayama and the Alpine route
Kusatsu Onsen
Hiroshima
Shikoku - Iya Valley, Naruto whirlpools
Miyajima
Nikko
Kamakura
Himeji
Nara
Now to squeeze all that in would easily entail at least a 14-day trip and definitely a JR Pass! Must start saving up!
We had a lot of adventures on this trip - the trip that almost did not happen thanks to the drama of the days prior to it. But it is the drama and the adventure that lend the trip such colour! I don't think I would have done anything differently - even getting separated at Tofukuji, traumatic as that was (though I think I would be wise enough next time to carry some cash with me!). I did wish we hadn't lost the Burberry though. Painful lesson - never buy anything for anyone on any trip! I wish we had more shopping done - not the clothes etc but just time to go through the art shops, the pottery shops, the fabrics, the tackiness of Oriental Bazaar, the flea markets, trawling Amenoyoko Arcade etc.
Today, months after the trip ended, I can't remember the specific details unless I look at my photographs, read the blog, check my journal. But I am left with a fuzzy warm feeling, an achy feeling of missing something or some place and a yearning to go back some day. Preferably soon. I still leaf through Alex Kerr's Lost Japan once in a while, browse through the same Japan Guide sites. I think I am homesick.
So there it is - no regrets about going to the Land of the Rising Sun. I blogged earlier about finding a thread of wistful solitude about the place even before I went. Now that I have gone and returned, I think what I found there is exactly what I thought I'd find and this sort of solitude amidst crowds, the modern and the ancient, the very contrast is exactly what I am all about. One more piece of the jigsaw that is me fell into place in Japan. I believe everyone of us has a special place on earth - literally - places that we gravitate to, that speak to us in our hearts in a way that others may not, places so comfortable and so familiar you believe you've been there before in another life. I feel this about Japan. It is the same feeling I got about Venice, Assisi, Vernazza.
One day, if I am able to and can afford it, I'd like to live there for a while - a few months to a year? Take Japanese lessons, learn the art of the tea ceremony, ikebana, imbibe that spirit of solitude and independence... Is this wishful thinking?
Some idea of costs:
Airfare for me, Gillian and Trin on SQ : Free - we used Krisflyer points! :-)
SQ's fuel surcharges and taxes: S$460 (can't escape! :-( )
Airfare for KH, Owain, Caitlin and Isaac on NorthWest (taxes included): S$2725
Shinkansen, 3N in hotel New Miyako for all of us: $2700
4N Hotel in Tokyo - 2 triple rooms in the Family Fifty's Maihama: S$1100
1N Ryokan Kangetsu standard room for 5: S$180
Spending money (which includes food, transportation, admission and shopping): S$2000 - note: I actually brought S$3000 but when we came home, realised that we actually had S$1000 in yen left!
Total cost: S$9165
The yen to the Singapore dollar: S$1 to 126yen
Good sites:
Kids Web Japan
Japan National Tourist Organisation
Japan Guide
Francois Jordaan's and Kelly Henderson's Japan blog
Solo Japan
Books that I liked:
Lonely Planet Tokyo
Lonely Planet Kyoto
Lonely Planet Japan
Japan: The Rough Guide
Japan: Frommer's Guide
Lost Japan
Places I haunted for research: JNTO office in Robinson Towers, NATAS travel fair, JTB in Takashimaya
People I talked to for research: my colleagues Chow Chee Yong and Helen Ho who lived in Japan for several years and Synthia Lim who went to Japan and who swopped info with me since she was heading over there around the same time too!
Places that I missed and would like to cover the next time round (with or without kids!):
Saga-Arashiyama Torokko train in Kyoto from Arashiyama to Kameoka
Hakone
Ghibli Museum
Kanazawa
Takayama and the Alpine route
Kusatsu Onsen
Hiroshima
Shikoku - Iya Valley, Naruto whirlpools
Miyajima
Nikko
Kamakura
Himeji
Nara
Now to squeeze all that in would easily entail at least a 14-day trip and definitely a JR Pass! Must start saving up!
We had a lot of adventures on this trip - the trip that almost did not happen thanks to the drama of the days prior to it. But it is the drama and the adventure that lend the trip such colour! I don't think I would have done anything differently - even getting separated at Tofukuji, traumatic as that was (though I think I would be wise enough next time to carry some cash with me!). I did wish we hadn't lost the Burberry though. Painful lesson - never buy anything for anyone on any trip! I wish we had more shopping done - not the clothes etc but just time to go through the art shops, the pottery shops, the fabrics, the tackiness of Oriental Bazaar, the flea markets, trawling Amenoyoko Arcade etc.
Today, months after the trip ended, I can't remember the specific details unless I look at my photographs, read the blog, check my journal. But I am left with a fuzzy warm feeling, an achy feeling of missing something or some place and a yearning to go back some day. Preferably soon. I still leaf through Alex Kerr's Lost Japan once in a while, browse through the same Japan Guide sites. I think I am homesick.
So there it is - no regrets about going to the Land of the Rising Sun. I blogged earlier about finding a thread of wistful solitude about the place even before I went. Now that I have gone and returned, I think what I found there is exactly what I thought I'd find and this sort of solitude amidst crowds, the modern and the ancient, the very contrast is exactly what I am all about. One more piece of the jigsaw that is me fell into place in Japan. I believe everyone of us has a special place on earth - literally - places that we gravitate to, that speak to us in our hearts in a way that others may not, places so comfortable and so familiar you believe you've been there before in another life. I feel this about Japan. It is the same feeling I got about Venice, Assisi, Vernazza.
One day, if I am able to and can afford it, I'd like to live there for a while - a few months to a year? Take Japanese lessons, learn the art of the tea ceremony, ikebana, imbibe that spirit of solitude and independence... Is this wishful thinking?
Day 9 25 Nov 2007 Tokyo and Singapore
Our last day in Tokyo.
I woke up feeling a sense of well-being and contentment mixed with sadness, knowing that in a few hours, the trip I had been working so hard to plan for most of the year, would come to a close.
We packed our stuff for the last time, sorted out where the dirty laundry would go, stuffed them in the appropriate packs etc, and then checked out of Kangetsu Ryokan. The kids were disappointed that our stay in Kangetsu was so brief. They really liked and enjoyed their ryokan stay. Well, I too felt the same way. Kangetsu was a mite out of the way, but I think it is worth the commute - the quiet neighbourhood is a real haven in noisy, busy Tokyo.
We stopped outside the ryokan to take a few pictures and then headed to Chidoricho station. From there we planned to head all the way to Ueno station where we would buy tickets for the Keisei Skyliner.
It was a smooth morning ride all the way from Chidoricho to Kamata and then to Ueno. We passed the big neon signs of Akhihabara district before Ueno station and I wished we could have gone for a walk there - it being the key electronics and manga district of Tokyo. A drink in a maid cafe would have been fun! I promised myself - next trip.
But our peace came to an abrupt end when, at Ueno station while trying to figure out where the Keisei station was, we realised that the Burberry paper bag was missing. In it was the 38,000yen Burberry Blue Label bag my brother had asked me to buy. Aaargghhhhh!!!!!
Where did we leave it? Was it on the street outside the ryokan when we stopped to take pictures? Was it on the platform at Chidoricho? We racked our brains trying to remember. I think it would be safe to say that our morning was utterly ruined.
I decided that KH would go ahead to the Keisei station which we discovered to be just across the road with the kids. I would make the long trip back to Chidoricho and Kangetsu to try to find the bag. Hope was slim since we are talking about a brand new Burberry Blue Label still in its packaging. But then this was Japan where honesty is the best policy and the Japanese are known for their low tolerance on crime and petty theft. I was just crossing my fingers that some kind soul had picked it up, denied their temptations and deposited it at the station master.
So we parted ways. I got on another train heading all the way back. I scoured the platform at Kamata - no luck. Through halting Japanese and English and sign language, I asked the station master and the office - but no one had turned in a Burberry bag. So I took the train onwards to Chidoricho.
Have to say that while I was anxious about the bag, I did enjoy my ride. It was the only time in the trip that I got to feel like I was travelling alone (a rare pleasure!) and could observe the people around me carefully. I liked the quiet neighbourhood in the morning - it was still as quiet as ever. Seeing kids on bikes in their baseball uniforms heading for practice or a game was another interesting sight. Chidoricho provided no luck. The pavement outside the ryokan was also empty. No Burberry paper bag.
I headed back to the ryokan and asked for help. The lady manager was kind enough to help me. She was very concerned about the loss and very kindly allowed me to make an international call to let KH know what was the outcome and to tell him I would meet him half an hour later than we planned since I was delayed during the search. She also very kindly called the police, called the stationmaster at Kamata, at Chidoricho and all to no avail. I felt that she went out of her way to help. But as she said, shaking her head ruefully, it WAS a Burberry Blue Label...
So empty-handed, I headed back to Ueno, thinking geez lucky it wasn't me who was last carrying the bag. Had it been me, KH would never let me hear the end of it! Especially since the card was purchased on HIS credit card!
Back at Keisei station, I hit upon the idea of making a police report, hoping that this would help us cover our losses if we could claim from insurance. It was hard making the police report - we were like chicken and duck - no common language again! The policeman had to call an interpreter on the phone. And they would not give us a copy of the report - which stumped me no end as to how I was supposed to make a claim when I couldn't even have a copy of the police report! They just told me "your insurance people will call our insurance people here and talk!" Huh?? But it was hard pushing them and so we just gave up - Japanese bureaucracy was a brick hard wall that was pointless butting heads over.
While I was gone, the kids and KH had gone up to Ueno park, checked out the lily-filled Shinobazu pond and a shrine nearby. They had their last purification and bell-ringing-deity-wishing ritual for the trip.
Since we really didn't have much time left - the Keisei Skyliner left at 3.20pm giving us barely 2hours left in Tokyo city - we decided to take the subway one stop down on the Ginza line to Asakusa.
The place was crowded with people. We headed to Nakamise Dori. This was a street dominated by souvenir stands and stalls selling rice crackers on both sides. And it was jam packed with people - largely tourists, but also locals who were getting a piece of the rice cracker action.
In one swoop, we did most of our shopping for the trip just on Nakamise dori. We bought bags, yukatas, postcards of the Japanese woodblock prints, fake samurai toy swords etc. At Sensoji, we did as everyone else did - wave the smoke from the incense burner around us for good health. And I got my last fortune slip - it said dad would get better! Caitlin bought and loved the takoyaki balls - and yes it was a roadside stand, like pasar malam style, but it sure tasted good!
From there it was a train ride back down to Ueno, to Keisei where we bought some drinks from the vending machine for the ride to Narita. At 1900yen, the trip was cheaper than the Narita Express. So maybe the next time I head back to Tokyo I'll just take the Keisei Skyliner.
Watching the urban landscape zoom by in the sunset was sad. I was saying goodbye to a place that still intrigued me and I wasn't really prepared to go just yet. It seemed like the past few days just flew by in a blur.
We travelled over bridges that spanned large rivers, passed the ubiquitous pachinko parlours, the neon-lit signs, the grey ferro-concrete buildings with square windows that passed for apartments, and as the urban sprawl faded, we travelled amidst padi fields, bamboo forests and tiny towns. Our train into Narita that first night took place in darkness. So this was our first and last look at the countryside just outside Tokyo. I was taking it all in, drinking it in as much as I could, not wanting to waste or miss any last impressions.
I missed Tokyo even as I was leaving it.
All too soon, the ride ended and we arrived at Narita. At Narita, KH and I split up again. He barely made it for the Northwest check-in. I headed for the SQ counter.
There I saw a familiar face and a familiar brood - Rita and the Tans! We checked in quickly then did a whirlwind shopping spree before getting on the plane. For one last happy sushi meal, I bought a nice nigiri set and a tekka maki set from a sushi restaurant just outside the gate. Gillian and I ate this on the plane after take-off. I also bought a yukata for myself and some mentaiko (at 1000yen this was cheaper than Isetan in Singapore!) .
Take-off was smooth. Trin was nursed during take-off. I had a window seat because Gillian was too busy on the inflight entertainment system getting her fill of High School Musical - yes, again!
From the air, the lights of Tokyo looked like a string of diamond dewdrops suspended on a spider's web. A huge spider's web that sprawled across the landscape as far as the eye could see. It was breathtakingly pretty. I tried to look for landmarks of the places we had been to, but it was just too big and after a while, I gave up and just looked out at the darkness and the glittery lights far far below.
I promised myself for the umpteenth time that I would be back.
Pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/chongbrood/Day9Tokyo
I woke up feeling a sense of well-being and contentment mixed with sadness, knowing that in a few hours, the trip I had been working so hard to plan for most of the year, would come to a close.
We packed our stuff for the last time, sorted out where the dirty laundry would go, stuffed them in the appropriate packs etc, and then checked out of Kangetsu Ryokan. The kids were disappointed that our stay in Kangetsu was so brief. They really liked and enjoyed their ryokan stay. Well, I too felt the same way. Kangetsu was a mite out of the way, but I think it is worth the commute - the quiet neighbourhood is a real haven in noisy, busy Tokyo.
We stopped outside the ryokan to take a few pictures and then headed to Chidoricho station. From there we planned to head all the way to Ueno station where we would buy tickets for the Keisei Skyliner.
It was a smooth morning ride all the way from Chidoricho to Kamata and then to Ueno. We passed the big neon signs of Akhihabara district before Ueno station and I wished we could have gone for a walk there - it being the key electronics and manga district of Tokyo. A drink in a maid cafe would have been fun! I promised myself - next trip.
But our peace came to an abrupt end when, at Ueno station while trying to figure out where the Keisei station was, we realised that the Burberry paper bag was missing. In it was the 38,000yen Burberry Blue Label bag my brother had asked me to buy. Aaargghhhhh!!!!!
Where did we leave it? Was it on the street outside the ryokan when we stopped to take pictures? Was it on the platform at Chidoricho? We racked our brains trying to remember. I think it would be safe to say that our morning was utterly ruined.
I decided that KH would go ahead to the Keisei station which we discovered to be just across the road with the kids. I would make the long trip back to Chidoricho and Kangetsu to try to find the bag. Hope was slim since we are talking about a brand new Burberry Blue Label still in its packaging. But then this was Japan where honesty is the best policy and the Japanese are known for their low tolerance on crime and petty theft. I was just crossing my fingers that some kind soul had picked it up, denied their temptations and deposited it at the station master.
So we parted ways. I got on another train heading all the way back. I scoured the platform at Kamata - no luck. Through halting Japanese and English and sign language, I asked the station master and the office - but no one had turned in a Burberry bag. So I took the train onwards to Chidoricho.
Have to say that while I was anxious about the bag, I did enjoy my ride. It was the only time in the trip that I got to feel like I was travelling alone (a rare pleasure!) and could observe the people around me carefully. I liked the quiet neighbourhood in the morning - it was still as quiet as ever. Seeing kids on bikes in their baseball uniforms heading for practice or a game was another interesting sight. Chidoricho provided no luck. The pavement outside the ryokan was also empty. No Burberry paper bag.
I headed back to the ryokan and asked for help. The lady manager was kind enough to help me. She was very concerned about the loss and very kindly allowed me to make an international call to let KH know what was the outcome and to tell him I would meet him half an hour later than we planned since I was delayed during the search. She also very kindly called the police, called the stationmaster at Kamata, at Chidoricho and all to no avail. I felt that she went out of her way to help. But as she said, shaking her head ruefully, it WAS a Burberry Blue Label...
So empty-handed, I headed back to Ueno, thinking geez lucky it wasn't me who was last carrying the bag. Had it been me, KH would never let me hear the end of it! Especially since the card was purchased on HIS credit card!
Back at Keisei station, I hit upon the idea of making a police report, hoping that this would help us cover our losses if we could claim from insurance. It was hard making the police report - we were like chicken and duck - no common language again! The policeman had to call an interpreter on the phone. And they would not give us a copy of the report - which stumped me no end as to how I was supposed to make a claim when I couldn't even have a copy of the police report! They just told me "your insurance people will call our insurance people here and talk!" Huh?? But it was hard pushing them and so we just gave up - Japanese bureaucracy was a brick hard wall that was pointless butting heads over.
While I was gone, the kids and KH had gone up to Ueno park, checked out the lily-filled Shinobazu pond and a shrine nearby. They had their last purification and bell-ringing-deity-wishing ritual for the trip.
Since we really didn't have much time left - the Keisei Skyliner left at 3.20pm giving us barely 2hours left in Tokyo city - we decided to take the subway one stop down on the Ginza line to Asakusa.
The place was crowded with people. We headed to Nakamise Dori. This was a street dominated by souvenir stands and stalls selling rice crackers on both sides. And it was jam packed with people - largely tourists, but also locals who were getting a piece of the rice cracker action.
In one swoop, we did most of our shopping for the trip just on Nakamise dori. We bought bags, yukatas, postcards of the Japanese woodblock prints, fake samurai toy swords etc. At Sensoji, we did as everyone else did - wave the smoke from the incense burner around us for good health. And I got my last fortune slip - it said dad would get better! Caitlin bought and loved the takoyaki balls - and yes it was a roadside stand, like pasar malam style, but it sure tasted good!
From there it was a train ride back down to Ueno, to Keisei where we bought some drinks from the vending machine for the ride to Narita. At 1900yen, the trip was cheaper than the Narita Express. So maybe the next time I head back to Tokyo I'll just take the Keisei Skyliner.
Watching the urban landscape zoom by in the sunset was sad. I was saying goodbye to a place that still intrigued me and I wasn't really prepared to go just yet. It seemed like the past few days just flew by in a blur.
We travelled over bridges that spanned large rivers, passed the ubiquitous pachinko parlours, the neon-lit signs, the grey ferro-concrete buildings with square windows that passed for apartments, and as the urban sprawl faded, we travelled amidst padi fields, bamboo forests and tiny towns. Our train into Narita that first night took place in darkness. So this was our first and last look at the countryside just outside Tokyo. I was taking it all in, drinking it in as much as I could, not wanting to waste or miss any last impressions.
I missed Tokyo even as I was leaving it.
All too soon, the ride ended and we arrived at Narita. At Narita, KH and I split up again. He barely made it for the Northwest check-in. I headed for the SQ counter.
There I saw a familiar face and a familiar brood - Rita and the Tans! We checked in quickly then did a whirlwind shopping spree before getting on the plane. For one last happy sushi meal, I bought a nice nigiri set and a tekka maki set from a sushi restaurant just outside the gate. Gillian and I ate this on the plane after take-off. I also bought a yukata for myself and some mentaiko (at 1000yen this was cheaper than Isetan in Singapore!) .
Take-off was smooth. Trin was nursed during take-off. I had a window seat because Gillian was too busy on the inflight entertainment system getting her fill of High School Musical - yes, again!
From the air, the lights of Tokyo looked like a string of diamond dewdrops suspended on a spider's web. A huge spider's web that sprawled across the landscape as far as the eye could see. It was breathtakingly pretty. I tried to look for landmarks of the places we had been to, but it was just too big and after a while, I gave up and just looked out at the darkness and the glittery lights far far below.
I promised myself for the umpteenth time that I would be back.
Pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/chongbrood/Day9Tokyo
Day 8 24 Nov 2007 Kyoto, Tokyo
The day was physically and mentally exhausting and filled with drama galore!
First off we only had the morning left in Kyoto before taking the 2pm shinkansen back to Tokyo. So we checked out early, but left our bags in the hotel, once again crossing the road to grab a train - this time with the time constraint we had to keep it near, so we decided to go to the Inari Fushimi shrine and to Tofukuji temple, just two or three stops away on the JR line.
The Inari Fushimi shrine was nice and empty in the morning. Hardly any tourists - perhaps because there was little autumn foliage to be seen and the bulk of the Japanese visitors seem to be making a beeline straight for the places with coloured trees. So the shrine was left quiet and empty and very peaceful.
The shrine was dedicated to the fox deity and it was the headquarters of all fox shrines in Japan. It is known for its long long line of torii gates which stretch for many km into the hillside. The gates, given by devotees, form dark vermillion tunnels leading all the way up and into the hills. We didn't go all the way up because we had not enough time. Just enough to wander up a bit, take a couple of pictures and move down. It was an impressive sight though - to see so many thousands of bright orange torii one after another going on forever up the hills, through the trees etc. Lonely Planet commented that the further up you go, the eerier it can be sometimes - particularly in the late afternoon or evening. I would love to try that some time! Not with 5kids in tow though!
The kids insisted on buying their little fox good luck charms, which I know they would lose soon enough, but almost each one had an omamori by then, and this was really going to be our last stop in terms of temples/shrines, so I caved. Isaac and Owain both got tiny gold angular foxes which denote good academic success.
Finishing Fushimi Inari quickly, we went off one stop down to Tofukuji.
Just getting off the train should have set off the warning bells in us already about the size of the crowd - but it didn't. We could barely move off the platform - the crowd was that thick. It was slow moving all the way down, and out of the tiny station, then out onto the street. Gosh, it was so packed with people that everyone really just seemed to shuffle along instead of walking. Everywhere there was people, people and more people! I guess the turnout was larger than any I've seen before because Nov 23 was a public holiday too.
Gamely though, we pushed on, just following the crowds, so huge that policemen had to be deployed to do crowd control and crowd directions. We stopped at some sub-temples along the way just to get out of the huge river of people streaming along, always taking careful note of each other. I knew that this was prime situation for getting lost - and God help us if we did! A crowd this size, getting lost or separated from the kids would be a nightmare beyond nightmares.
And with Murphy's Law in full effect this trip, yep, it seemed we would do just that.
It happened right after we jumped out of the crowd to scan some nice trees in a quiet garden. When we decided to jump back into the crowd, for some reason, the crowd just grew larger and everyone seemed to swarm up front, pushing us apart.
So I had Isaac, Caitlin and baby Trinity with me. I couldn't see KH but hoped he was with Gillian and Owain. We were just swept along with the crowd. I gripped the children's hands and called to them to stay close and never ever let go of my hand. At the same time, I was worried about being separated from KH and with the size of the crowd, I had decided it was better to just forget about going to Tofukuji. So I called out: Daddy! KH!! Go to the left! Go to the left! Owain! Gillian! Left!
I don't know if they heard me and I had no response but we were still being swept inexorably onward. I could barely see above the heads of the people in front of me, but soon realised that there was a wooden covered bridge ahead. I knew that one of Tofukuji's highlights was a wooden bridge and the outstanding autumn views from the bridge. So I guessed this might be it - hence the eager crowd just pushing its way though.
Right at the front, we were pushed onto the bridge - everyone else seemed to be pushing their way, forcing their way up. I decided to be as Japanese as everyone and elbowed my way through too, to the railing of the bridge. In a split second, I wondered how the old bridge was going to hold the weight of so many people! But just then, I caught sight of the scene before me. Despite my anxiety at being separated from KH and the others, I could not help but marvel at the sight. The kids were open-mouthed too at the wonder before them - the glorious blaze of red and gold and yellows in the valley and the sides. It was autumn in full glow here. Absolutely jaw-droppingly gorgeous. I wished I had a camera to take a picture! I realised that this was not the famous bridge after all, but it faced the real one! The people on the other side of the gorge were also spilling out of the bridge gawking at the scenery and back at us!
After a minute or so of gawking, we were again pushed out the other end of the bridge. That end was quieter and the crowd had spaced out. The avenue led to the main entrance of the Tofukuji temple complex. Meanwhile, still no sign of KH and the kids. I was beginning to really worry about separation but I still had some aces up my sleeve.
The kids and I walked to the main entrance of Tofukuji and entered the grounds. We hoped to see KH and the rest waiting for us there. Nope. The place was packed but no sign of them at all. Isaac wanted to explore the grounds to look for him. I said no. It was just madness out there and I could not risk one more kid getting lost.
After a while, I gave up and said let's head back to the train station. My last ace. I thought that if KH gave up and went back, the station would be our meeting place. It was the only sensible place we had in common to meet.
So we battled the crowd at the bridge again and headed back, checking at every place we stopped before to see if they were there. No such luck.
Back at the front of the station, we plonked ourselves just outside a barbershop. The crowd was unbelievable, claustrophobic even, with people going in and going out and everywhere was just a big sea of faces and heads. I waited there, standing with Isaac and Caitlin and Trin in a sling. Thus far, Trin was sleeping. But KH was not there and never showed up. I really began to panic.
I had no money, no phone. I basically had no way of getting back to Kyoto station. We were stuck in Tofukuji! And I was aware that the minutes were ticking by and we risked missing the shinkansen back to Tokyo.
Yes I was in full-fledged panic by then. We looked so pathetic, like beggars at the roadside, and I felt so sorry for us being in this tight situation. Yet the kids seemed sanguine - I did tell them how and why I was worried, but it never really struck home for them. Only Isaac seemed panicky at times. He burst out with a sacrilegious "Damn them all!" once in a while. Which made me smile but I was still on the verge of hysteria.
I tried to keep it together - I knew I had to get to a phone or get some money. So I tried to borrow a phone. Most of the Japanese, despite the language barrier, were eager to help - until they realised I needed to call an overseas number (KH's Singapore number) and then they shook their heads. I tried asking a Chinese national in halting Mandarin - he tried to help somewhat but also limited by the phone's limitations. Tried asking an American man. But all he did was laugh and say: oh yeah in this crowd its kinda hard. I don't have a cell phone but I sure hope you meet them soon. Etc. Right, thanks!
I was really about to scream or cry hysterically. To add to the tension, Trin woke up and started on one of her inexplicable screaming fits. She kept pointing to the station gateway and screaming "There!" and crying. Nothing would calm her. The kids looked on helplessly. There was no way to sit down and nurse - every square inch of the place was covered with people walking! Honestly, I was really about to break down. Finally I managed to calm her and nurse her by tightening the sling and adjusting it so that she nursed sitting up in the sling. Thank God I was wearing a nursing top under the layers!
I think I stood there in this panicked state for more than an hour. Until I begged this nice group of Aussies for help. I told them my story and they couldn't offer their handphone too. But they did offer me money which I gratefully accepted. I have no way of repaying them though. They gave me about 600yen - enough to buy tickets back to Kyoto station. My plan was to run back to the New Miyako Hotel and use the phone there to call KH. I thanked the Aussies profusely and was practically in tears. At the same time, I felt so embarrassed to be caught in this sort of situation. Honestly we looked just like any of the many beggar families we see in Bangkok! There I was, two children and a baby in a sling, a hard luck story etc. Gosh!! It was awkward, and humiliating.
Even as we bought the tickets, I made Isaac run out to the entrance to check again to see if KH had come. Of course he was not there and still panicking and weak-kneed, we made our way back to Kyoto station and ran for dear life back to the New Miyako.
There in the lobby, sitting down on a bench - were the three of them - KH, Owain and Gillian! I was so relieved I teared up. I wanted to just bawl from the relief of the stress and intensity of the moment but controlled myself to just relating the story before we had to grab our bags and make a run for it. We had a scant 20min to make it to the shinkansen!
Again deja vu - we were off and running like mad to catch a train! We made it with minutes to spare, buying sandwiches and drinks for the journey. On the platform as the train pulled in, the kids jumped in while I made a last minute purchase. I had always wanted to have a bento sushi meal on board a train, buying it from the platform and I wasn't about to let this go to waste. So with the kids frantically gesturing and hollering at me to get on board, I grabbed a box of Osaka-style saba sushi, paid for it (all of 640yen!) and jumped on board - literally with not a minute to lose for barely had I taken my seat, the train doors whooshed shut and the train pulled away.
Wow.
The kids were on a high - recounting their adventures to each other. I later found out that Gillian and KH had heard me calling right from the beginning, but could not catch sight of me. They managed to push themselves out of the crowd but I could not and I was swept on. After that, the real split was when I continued on to Tofukuji in the mistaken belief that he would also press on and find me there. He, on the other hand, had already come out of the crowd before even getting on the bridge. So when I didn't show up, he turned around and went back to the station. He waited there for a while until deciding to head back to the hotel, believing I would follow them back to the hotel since we still had luggage there. The moment of truth only dawned on him in the train when Gillian asked: er dad, d'you think mum would have any money to come back to the hotel? Then he realised - I had nothing with me. No phone, no cash. And no way of coming back. And Trin's inexplicable crying, according to our accounts and our approximate timing, weirdly enough, that was right when KH and the kids were inside the station already, on the platform waiting for the train! Now how strange is that that she would wake up suddenly, point to the inside of the train station and howl 'there! there!' - sent chills down my spine! I remember walking her to the station steps itself and she kept on pointing into the station and I couldn't figure out why! My ESP baby!
We spent the two hours on the shinkansen eating our sandwiches, dozing off, and for me, just chilling out and releasing myself from the residual tension and the high. And I enjoyed my saba sushi! And so did the kids! I finally got my sushi-on-the-shinkansen experience!
We pulled into Tokyo station at 4.30pm and it was dark already. Owain was so tired he slumped on the floor outside the men's room while waiting for the rest to finish their turn at the loo!
We had to take a train on the Keihin-Tohoku line to Kamata station and from there, change another train on the Tokyo Ikegami line to Chidoricho station. The transfer was easy, but it was still a longish journey - made longer with tired cranky kids and heavy backpacks. I knew what we were heading on to - a comfortable ryokan with a hot bath - but the kids didn't and so didn't have this warm picture ahead to sustain them.
Chidoricho station, so far out of the Tokyo main drag, was right in the heart of suburban Tokyo. It was such a different picture. No neon for one! And so quiet! The streets were small, deserted, with only warm lights shining out from the odd restaurant and convenience store and of course, houses and apartments. The station was a single storey building and the train tracks were right on the roads, passing through backyards and houses.
We got off and asked a girl at a laundry for directions to the ryokan. The girl at the laundry was very helpful despite the lack of English for her and Japanese for me. She gestured and used sign language. We found our way easily enough. It was set across the tracks, up a small slope. Here we are now at Kangetsu Ryokan!
As we climbed up and passed through the bamboo gate, we found ourselves in a garden! Tiny garden lights and lanterns cast pools of light in a space of bamboo and trees. We crossed a small red 'bridge' and came to the warmly-lit open reception area. The lady manager welcomed us and showed us to our room on the ground floor.
Kangetsu Ryokyan is made up of two main wings - the older one (where we stayed) and constructed largely of wood and bamboo, with wall hangings and sculptures and wooden shoe racks and the newer annex, made of ferroconcrete - all Zen straight lines, grey and glass and minimalist stylish. Both wings were connected via the central garden and the reception area. Our room was in the older wing, on the ground floor. We didn't have a attached toilet but the common one was just outside our room, and since the other room sharing the space was unoccupied, it was practically as good as our private toilet!
The children were thrilled by the room - tatami-matted and large! It looked like two rooms instead of one. Three futons had been laid out on one side of the room with a screen door and another two laid out in the other space, along with a tv, a low table and cushions. There was nothing in the way of wardrobes, just a clothes rack, but the kids were ecstatic! They loved the traditional look and feel and were busy deciding who slept on which futon. I think it was actually quite a basic set-up, but it was still a unique experience for the kids and hence, loads of fun.
Suddenly they were energized again and were busy sliding open screens and exploring the space.
We decided to have dinner outside the ryokan first. So we clattered down and out the ryokan to check out the places around. The neighbourhood was so quiet that our family seemed to be very loud as we walked around, debating what to eat. We finally saw a hole-in-the-wall sushi place. It was manned by two middle-aged ladies and seemed to be largely a takeaway joint. We observed it for a while and saw people coming up to the open counter, rattling off their orders and taking away their stuff. But then at the side, there was a tiny doorway. And inside, the width of the doorway, was a counter with stools - just enough for all of us! Perfect.
We peered in and there was a man eating there. He saw us and hurriedly finished eating, smiling all the way. The lady of the store apologised but he said it was okay. Then we all went in and sat down, ordering our food. And boy did we order! It was our last night in Tokyo and we were ready to make it a good one.
We ordered a large set - take set which had about 30 pieces of sushi (salmon, tuna, prawn, yellowfish etc) then I ordered an otoro set which came in 6 pieces, Gillian had a shake-don (salmon with rice) bowl, and I ordered an 8-piece tuna set. We had loads of ikura too which the kids devoured eagerly. Back in Singapore, ikura and otoro cost an arm and a leg and the kids were always rationed on this - I would daintily pick and pop them just pearls of ikura one at a time. But here, each kid had at least one or two pieces of ikura sushi all to themselves!
We took up the whole space and we ate and ate. The middle-aged ladies manning the store were fascinated I think. They asked where we were from and nodded when we said Singapore. In general, I've observed that people in Japan seem to know Singapore, or at least they don't look blank when we say where we're from! The ladies saw Trinity chomping on ikura and asked me how old she was. I said she was two and they seemed taken aback in awe and asked to see her teeth. I got Trin to open wide and they nodded, satisfied and asked: what can she eat since we were all eating fish? I pointed to the ikura and the salmon and tuna and they seemed amazed that she was eating all that at two years old! I thought Japanese kids started on sushi even earlier so I could not understand their amazement!They promptly prepared some tamago maki gratis just for Trin. I thanked them profusely for their generosity!
The slices of fish were fresh, slick and generously thick - half a cm at least! - and long too, draping over the mound of rice. So unlike Singapore where you'd get a thin slice sitting primly on top with nothing draping over! That night we ate till our hearts' content, reaching a stage of satiation like we never would have back in Singapore - we actually had to ta-pao part of the tamago maki! And the bill? 4900yen. KH and I shook our heads - we just had the best and the cheapest sushi meal of all time right in the heart of one of the world's most expensive cities - Tokyo!
We strolled around the neighbourhood for a while before heading back to the ryokan. KH insisted on taking pictures at the rail/road intersection, waiting until the barriers came down, a car stopped and the train whizzed by! It was a quiet place and there was no noise at all, cars were rare and there wasn't even tv sounds or sounds of any family life. Compared to the rest of what we had seen at Tokyo, this was really very unusual - but in a good way! One thing we also found weird was the large number of laundromats and full-service laundries! There were at least five or six in a small area the size of a football field! Did nobody do their own laundry here?
Back at the ryokan, it was rotemburo time! I got the guys to babysit Trin while Gillian, Cait and I hit the hot bath. There was a common indoor ladies bath right outside our room, but we wanted to try the outdoor rotemburo - which was on the roof top of the annex. So Gillian and I dressed in our yukatas while Cait undressed to her long johns and we walked through the gardens, across a glass bridge and up the lift in the annex to the 4th floor.
It was a cosy, welcoming place! There was a sink, pigeonholes with wicker baskets for us to leave our clothes in, and a toilet with the bells and whistles. Once we had undressed in the warmth of the room, left our folded clothes in the wicker baskets, we took a deep breath and opened the door to the outdoor terrace.
The cold air hit us with a blast! I think it was about 9 to 10deg. We hurriedly hit the bank of showers. I washed Cait as quickly and as thoroughly as I could, then myself, shivering all the way. Thank God it wasn't very windy, but it was bad enough! We were all starkers in front of each other which was not a problem with me. No one else was using the rotemburo which was not very sizeable. One by one we got into the hot water. Steam was rising from the surface. It was fun to hear the 'oohs' and 'ouch' as Gillian and Caitlin inched themselves in. Then I went in. And my gosh, the water was great!!! It was blissfully hot and I could just lie in that heat forever! With the cold air and the hot water - man, it was heaven.
It was a really fun and a nice experience for all of us girls to share and till today, Cait still calls it one of the best times she will always remember from the trip. So nice to sit in there and soak in the hot hot water together, giggling and talking. I took pictures of course - all RA!
After a while, though reluctant to get out, we had to. The boys were impatient to go for their turn I was sure. So we rubbed ourselves dry, dressed in the yukatas and went back down. And true enough, Isaac and Owain were jumping in their impatience to go. I gave a clueless KH a briefing on onsen etiquette before they went.
While they were gone, I washed Trin, walked out to get myself a bottle of Coke from the vending machine and drank it in the room. Oh feeling so mellow from the bath!
It took a while and the boys came back and it was obvious they had fun! Owain from the waist down was the pink of boiled lobster! They didn't want to get out of the tub. I took a RA shot of him, balls and all, a lovely shade of hot pink!
After that, the kids headed out to the public spaces - rooms where you could use the massage chair, watch DVDs, use the internet, listen to music etc. I stayed in and snuggled under my futon blanket, nursed Trin to the background of buzz of Japanese tv and slowly fell asleep.
Now that, is what I call the real Japanese accomodation experience! I didn't want to leave Japan not having gone through a night in a Japanese inn, with a Japanese public bath experience. It was rewarding for me and a fun eye-opener into Japanese culture for the kids. Something they would always remember. Kangetsu Ryokan was a real haven for me that night - coming after the horrible nightmare of the morning, it was a real balm to my soul for the night. And as for the kids, they were busy oohing and ahhing and finding their own slice of memory in the ryokan that night. Gillian enjoyed listening to music from CDs in the outdoor pavilion, headphones on. Isaac enjoyed surfing the net and playing his net games online. Owain and Cait hit the massage chairs. They had loads of fun and told me after that they wished they had stayed here from the very beginning.
It was our last night in Tokyo, and I was glad I made it a memorable one for them.
Pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/chongbrood/Day8KyotoAndTokyo04
First off we only had the morning left in Kyoto before taking the 2pm shinkansen back to Tokyo. So we checked out early, but left our bags in the hotel, once again crossing the road to grab a train - this time with the time constraint we had to keep it near, so we decided to go to the Inari Fushimi shrine and to Tofukuji temple, just two or three stops away on the JR line.
The Inari Fushimi shrine was nice and empty in the morning. Hardly any tourists - perhaps because there was little autumn foliage to be seen and the bulk of the Japanese visitors seem to be making a beeline straight for the places with coloured trees. So the shrine was left quiet and empty and very peaceful.
The shrine was dedicated to the fox deity and it was the headquarters of all fox shrines in Japan. It is known for its long long line of torii gates which stretch for many km into the hillside. The gates, given by devotees, form dark vermillion tunnels leading all the way up and into the hills. We didn't go all the way up because we had not enough time. Just enough to wander up a bit, take a couple of pictures and move down. It was an impressive sight though - to see so many thousands of bright orange torii one after another going on forever up the hills, through the trees etc. Lonely Planet commented that the further up you go, the eerier it can be sometimes - particularly in the late afternoon or evening. I would love to try that some time! Not with 5kids in tow though!
The kids insisted on buying their little fox good luck charms, which I know they would lose soon enough, but almost each one had an omamori by then, and this was really going to be our last stop in terms of temples/shrines, so I caved. Isaac and Owain both got tiny gold angular foxes which denote good academic success.
Finishing Fushimi Inari quickly, we went off one stop down to Tofukuji.
Just getting off the train should have set off the warning bells in us already about the size of the crowd - but it didn't. We could barely move off the platform - the crowd was that thick. It was slow moving all the way down, and out of the tiny station, then out onto the street. Gosh, it was so packed with people that everyone really just seemed to shuffle along instead of walking. Everywhere there was people, people and more people! I guess the turnout was larger than any I've seen before because Nov 23 was a public holiday too.
Gamely though, we pushed on, just following the crowds, so huge that policemen had to be deployed to do crowd control and crowd directions. We stopped at some sub-temples along the way just to get out of the huge river of people streaming along, always taking careful note of each other. I knew that this was prime situation for getting lost - and God help us if we did! A crowd this size, getting lost or separated from the kids would be a nightmare beyond nightmares.
And with Murphy's Law in full effect this trip, yep, it seemed we would do just that.
It happened right after we jumped out of the crowd to scan some nice trees in a quiet garden. When we decided to jump back into the crowd, for some reason, the crowd just grew larger and everyone seemed to swarm up front, pushing us apart.
So I had Isaac, Caitlin and baby Trinity with me. I couldn't see KH but hoped he was with Gillian and Owain. We were just swept along with the crowd. I gripped the children's hands and called to them to stay close and never ever let go of my hand. At the same time, I was worried about being separated from KH and with the size of the crowd, I had decided it was better to just forget about going to Tofukuji. So I called out: Daddy! KH!! Go to the left! Go to the left! Owain! Gillian! Left!
I don't know if they heard me and I had no response but we were still being swept inexorably onward. I could barely see above the heads of the people in front of me, but soon realised that there was a wooden covered bridge ahead. I knew that one of Tofukuji's highlights was a wooden bridge and the outstanding autumn views from the bridge. So I guessed this might be it - hence the eager crowd just pushing its way though.
Right at the front, we were pushed onto the bridge - everyone else seemed to be pushing their way, forcing their way up. I decided to be as Japanese as everyone and elbowed my way through too, to the railing of the bridge. In a split second, I wondered how the old bridge was going to hold the weight of so many people! But just then, I caught sight of the scene before me. Despite my anxiety at being separated from KH and the others, I could not help but marvel at the sight. The kids were open-mouthed too at the wonder before them - the glorious blaze of red and gold and yellows in the valley and the sides. It was autumn in full glow here. Absolutely jaw-droppingly gorgeous. I wished I had a camera to take a picture! I realised that this was not the famous bridge after all, but it faced the real one! The people on the other side of the gorge were also spilling out of the bridge gawking at the scenery and back at us!
After a minute or so of gawking, we were again pushed out the other end of the bridge. That end was quieter and the crowd had spaced out. The avenue led to the main entrance of the Tofukuji temple complex. Meanwhile, still no sign of KH and the kids. I was beginning to really worry about separation but I still had some aces up my sleeve.
The kids and I walked to the main entrance of Tofukuji and entered the grounds. We hoped to see KH and the rest waiting for us there. Nope. The place was packed but no sign of them at all. Isaac wanted to explore the grounds to look for him. I said no. It was just madness out there and I could not risk one more kid getting lost.
After a while, I gave up and said let's head back to the train station. My last ace. I thought that if KH gave up and went back, the station would be our meeting place. It was the only sensible place we had in common to meet.
So we battled the crowd at the bridge again and headed back, checking at every place we stopped before to see if they were there. No such luck.
Back at the front of the station, we plonked ourselves just outside a barbershop. The crowd was unbelievable, claustrophobic even, with people going in and going out and everywhere was just a big sea of faces and heads. I waited there, standing with Isaac and Caitlin and Trin in a sling. Thus far, Trin was sleeping. But KH was not there and never showed up. I really began to panic.
I had no money, no phone. I basically had no way of getting back to Kyoto station. We were stuck in Tofukuji! And I was aware that the minutes were ticking by and we risked missing the shinkansen back to Tokyo.
Yes I was in full-fledged panic by then. We looked so pathetic, like beggars at the roadside, and I felt so sorry for us being in this tight situation. Yet the kids seemed sanguine - I did tell them how and why I was worried, but it never really struck home for them. Only Isaac seemed panicky at times. He burst out with a sacrilegious "Damn them all!" once in a while. Which made me smile but I was still on the verge of hysteria.
I tried to keep it together - I knew I had to get to a phone or get some money. So I tried to borrow a phone. Most of the Japanese, despite the language barrier, were eager to help - until they realised I needed to call an overseas number (KH's Singapore number) and then they shook their heads. I tried asking a Chinese national in halting Mandarin - he tried to help somewhat but also limited by the phone's limitations. Tried asking an American man. But all he did was laugh and say: oh yeah in this crowd its kinda hard. I don't have a cell phone but I sure hope you meet them soon. Etc. Right, thanks!
I was really about to scream or cry hysterically. To add to the tension, Trin woke up and started on one of her inexplicable screaming fits. She kept pointing to the station gateway and screaming "There!" and crying. Nothing would calm her. The kids looked on helplessly. There was no way to sit down and nurse - every square inch of the place was covered with people walking! Honestly, I was really about to break down. Finally I managed to calm her and nurse her by tightening the sling and adjusting it so that she nursed sitting up in the sling. Thank God I was wearing a nursing top under the layers!
I think I stood there in this panicked state for more than an hour. Until I begged this nice group of Aussies for help. I told them my story and they couldn't offer their handphone too. But they did offer me money which I gratefully accepted. I have no way of repaying them though. They gave me about 600yen - enough to buy tickets back to Kyoto station. My plan was to run back to the New Miyako Hotel and use the phone there to call KH. I thanked the Aussies profusely and was practically in tears. At the same time, I felt so embarrassed to be caught in this sort of situation. Honestly we looked just like any of the many beggar families we see in Bangkok! There I was, two children and a baby in a sling, a hard luck story etc. Gosh!! It was awkward, and humiliating.
Even as we bought the tickets, I made Isaac run out to the entrance to check again to see if KH had come. Of course he was not there and still panicking and weak-kneed, we made our way back to Kyoto station and ran for dear life back to the New Miyako.
There in the lobby, sitting down on a bench - were the three of them - KH, Owain and Gillian! I was so relieved I teared up. I wanted to just bawl from the relief of the stress and intensity of the moment but controlled myself to just relating the story before we had to grab our bags and make a run for it. We had a scant 20min to make it to the shinkansen!
Again deja vu - we were off and running like mad to catch a train! We made it with minutes to spare, buying sandwiches and drinks for the journey. On the platform as the train pulled in, the kids jumped in while I made a last minute purchase. I had always wanted to have a bento sushi meal on board a train, buying it from the platform and I wasn't about to let this go to waste. So with the kids frantically gesturing and hollering at me to get on board, I grabbed a box of Osaka-style saba sushi, paid for it (all of 640yen!) and jumped on board - literally with not a minute to lose for barely had I taken my seat, the train doors whooshed shut and the train pulled away.
Wow.
The kids were on a high - recounting their adventures to each other. I later found out that Gillian and KH had heard me calling right from the beginning, but could not catch sight of me. They managed to push themselves out of the crowd but I could not and I was swept on. After that, the real split was when I continued on to Tofukuji in the mistaken belief that he would also press on and find me there. He, on the other hand, had already come out of the crowd before even getting on the bridge. So when I didn't show up, he turned around and went back to the station. He waited there for a while until deciding to head back to the hotel, believing I would follow them back to the hotel since we still had luggage there. The moment of truth only dawned on him in the train when Gillian asked: er dad, d'you think mum would have any money to come back to the hotel? Then he realised - I had nothing with me. No phone, no cash. And no way of coming back. And Trin's inexplicable crying, according to our accounts and our approximate timing, weirdly enough, that was right when KH and the kids were inside the station already, on the platform waiting for the train! Now how strange is that that she would wake up suddenly, point to the inside of the train station and howl 'there! there!' - sent chills down my spine! I remember walking her to the station steps itself and she kept on pointing into the station and I couldn't figure out why! My ESP baby!
We spent the two hours on the shinkansen eating our sandwiches, dozing off, and for me, just chilling out and releasing myself from the residual tension and the high. And I enjoyed my saba sushi! And so did the kids! I finally got my sushi-on-the-shinkansen experience!
We pulled into Tokyo station at 4.30pm and it was dark already. Owain was so tired he slumped on the floor outside the men's room while waiting for the rest to finish their turn at the loo!
We had to take a train on the Keihin-Tohoku line to Kamata station and from there, change another train on the Tokyo Ikegami line to Chidoricho station. The transfer was easy, but it was still a longish journey - made longer with tired cranky kids and heavy backpacks. I knew what we were heading on to - a comfortable ryokan with a hot bath - but the kids didn't and so didn't have this warm picture ahead to sustain them.
Chidoricho station, so far out of the Tokyo main drag, was right in the heart of suburban Tokyo. It was such a different picture. No neon for one! And so quiet! The streets were small, deserted, with only warm lights shining out from the odd restaurant and convenience store and of course, houses and apartments. The station was a single storey building and the train tracks were right on the roads, passing through backyards and houses.
We got off and asked a girl at a laundry for directions to the ryokan. The girl at the laundry was very helpful despite the lack of English for her and Japanese for me. She gestured and used sign language. We found our way easily enough. It was set across the tracks, up a small slope. Here we are now at Kangetsu Ryokan!
As we climbed up and passed through the bamboo gate, we found ourselves in a garden! Tiny garden lights and lanterns cast pools of light in a space of bamboo and trees. We crossed a small red 'bridge' and came to the warmly-lit open reception area. The lady manager welcomed us and showed us to our room on the ground floor.
Kangetsu Ryokyan is made up of two main wings - the older one (where we stayed) and constructed largely of wood and bamboo, with wall hangings and sculptures and wooden shoe racks and the newer annex, made of ferroconcrete - all Zen straight lines, grey and glass and minimalist stylish. Both wings were connected via the central garden and the reception area. Our room was in the older wing, on the ground floor. We didn't have a attached toilet but the common one was just outside our room, and since the other room sharing the space was unoccupied, it was practically as good as our private toilet!
The children were thrilled by the room - tatami-matted and large! It looked like two rooms instead of one. Three futons had been laid out on one side of the room with a screen door and another two laid out in the other space, along with a tv, a low table and cushions. There was nothing in the way of wardrobes, just a clothes rack, but the kids were ecstatic! They loved the traditional look and feel and were busy deciding who slept on which futon. I think it was actually quite a basic set-up, but it was still a unique experience for the kids and hence, loads of fun.
Suddenly they were energized again and were busy sliding open screens and exploring the space.
We decided to have dinner outside the ryokan first. So we clattered down and out the ryokan to check out the places around. The neighbourhood was so quiet that our family seemed to be very loud as we walked around, debating what to eat. We finally saw a hole-in-the-wall sushi place. It was manned by two middle-aged ladies and seemed to be largely a takeaway joint. We observed it for a while and saw people coming up to the open counter, rattling off their orders and taking away their stuff. But then at the side, there was a tiny doorway. And inside, the width of the doorway, was a counter with stools - just enough for all of us! Perfect.
We peered in and there was a man eating there. He saw us and hurriedly finished eating, smiling all the way. The lady of the store apologised but he said it was okay. Then we all went in and sat down, ordering our food. And boy did we order! It was our last night in Tokyo and we were ready to make it a good one.
We ordered a large set - take set which had about 30 pieces of sushi (salmon, tuna, prawn, yellowfish etc) then I ordered an otoro set which came in 6 pieces, Gillian had a shake-don (salmon with rice) bowl, and I ordered an 8-piece tuna set. We had loads of ikura too which the kids devoured eagerly. Back in Singapore, ikura and otoro cost an arm and a leg and the kids were always rationed on this - I would daintily pick and pop them just pearls of ikura one at a time. But here, each kid had at least one or two pieces of ikura sushi all to themselves!
We took up the whole space and we ate and ate. The middle-aged ladies manning the store were fascinated I think. They asked where we were from and nodded when we said Singapore. In general, I've observed that people in Japan seem to know Singapore, or at least they don't look blank when we say where we're from! The ladies saw Trinity chomping on ikura and asked me how old she was. I said she was two and they seemed taken aback in awe and asked to see her teeth. I got Trin to open wide and they nodded, satisfied and asked: what can she eat since we were all eating fish? I pointed to the ikura and the salmon and tuna and they seemed amazed that she was eating all that at two years old! I thought Japanese kids started on sushi even earlier so I could not understand their amazement!They promptly prepared some tamago maki gratis just for Trin. I thanked them profusely for their generosity!
The slices of fish were fresh, slick and generously thick - half a cm at least! - and long too, draping over the mound of rice. So unlike Singapore where you'd get a thin slice sitting primly on top with nothing draping over! That night we ate till our hearts' content, reaching a stage of satiation like we never would have back in Singapore - we actually had to ta-pao part of the tamago maki! And the bill? 4900yen. KH and I shook our heads - we just had the best and the cheapest sushi meal of all time right in the heart of one of the world's most expensive cities - Tokyo!
We strolled around the neighbourhood for a while before heading back to the ryokan. KH insisted on taking pictures at the rail/road intersection, waiting until the barriers came down, a car stopped and the train whizzed by! It was a quiet place and there was no noise at all, cars were rare and there wasn't even tv sounds or sounds of any family life. Compared to the rest of what we had seen at Tokyo, this was really very unusual - but in a good way! One thing we also found weird was the large number of laundromats and full-service laundries! There were at least five or six in a small area the size of a football field! Did nobody do their own laundry here?
Back at the ryokan, it was rotemburo time! I got the guys to babysit Trin while Gillian, Cait and I hit the hot bath. There was a common indoor ladies bath right outside our room, but we wanted to try the outdoor rotemburo - which was on the roof top of the annex. So Gillian and I dressed in our yukatas while Cait undressed to her long johns and we walked through the gardens, across a glass bridge and up the lift in the annex to the 4th floor.
It was a cosy, welcoming place! There was a sink, pigeonholes with wicker baskets for us to leave our clothes in, and a toilet with the bells and whistles. Once we had undressed in the warmth of the room, left our folded clothes in the wicker baskets, we took a deep breath and opened the door to the outdoor terrace.
The cold air hit us with a blast! I think it was about 9 to 10deg. We hurriedly hit the bank of showers. I washed Cait as quickly and as thoroughly as I could, then myself, shivering all the way. Thank God it wasn't very windy, but it was bad enough! We were all starkers in front of each other which was not a problem with me. No one else was using the rotemburo which was not very sizeable. One by one we got into the hot water. Steam was rising from the surface. It was fun to hear the 'oohs' and 'ouch' as Gillian and Caitlin inched themselves in. Then I went in. And my gosh, the water was great!!! It was blissfully hot and I could just lie in that heat forever! With the cold air and the hot water - man, it was heaven.
It was a really fun and a nice experience for all of us girls to share and till today, Cait still calls it one of the best times she will always remember from the trip. So nice to sit in there and soak in the hot hot water together, giggling and talking. I took pictures of course - all RA!
After a while, though reluctant to get out, we had to. The boys were impatient to go for their turn I was sure. So we rubbed ourselves dry, dressed in the yukatas and went back down. And true enough, Isaac and Owain were jumping in their impatience to go. I gave a clueless KH a briefing on onsen etiquette before they went.
While they were gone, I washed Trin, walked out to get myself a bottle of Coke from the vending machine and drank it in the room. Oh feeling so mellow from the bath!
It took a while and the boys came back and it was obvious they had fun! Owain from the waist down was the pink of boiled lobster! They didn't want to get out of the tub. I took a RA shot of him, balls and all, a lovely shade of hot pink!
After that, the kids headed out to the public spaces - rooms where you could use the massage chair, watch DVDs, use the internet, listen to music etc. I stayed in and snuggled under my futon blanket, nursed Trin to the background of buzz of Japanese tv and slowly fell asleep.
Now that, is what I call the real Japanese accomodation experience! I didn't want to leave Japan not having gone through a night in a Japanese inn, with a Japanese public bath experience. It was rewarding for me and a fun eye-opener into Japanese culture for the kids. Something they would always remember. Kangetsu Ryokan was a real haven for me that night - coming after the horrible nightmare of the morning, it was a real balm to my soul for the night. And as for the kids, they were busy oohing and ahhing and finding their own slice of memory in the ryokan that night. Gillian enjoyed listening to music from CDs in the outdoor pavilion, headphones on. Isaac enjoyed surfing the net and playing his net games online. Owain and Cait hit the massage chairs. They had loads of fun and told me after that they wished they had stayed here from the very beginning.
It was our last night in Tokyo, and I was glad I made it a memorable one for them.
Pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/chongbrood/Day8KyotoAndTokyo04
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