The Strait of Malacca

Official departure time is 9am, but it’s nearly 10am and we still haven’t started boarding yet... it must be a sign of things to come. I hear that it’s perfectly normal for a boat (or any form of transport) to be a few hours late in Indonesia... welcome back to the rubber time a la Laos.

By 10.30, we’re boarded and on our way, and the sheltered waters give no indication of the rough seas ahead, but they’ve hung up small black plastic vomit bags around the boat. As we round the bottom of the Penang island group, we see the seas, and there’s a collective groan from the passengers.

Within half an hour, people are heaving up their breakfasts left and right. The strain of emptying stomachs can be heard above the sound of the rumbling diesel engines, and the conditions seem to be getting worse. We launch off a particularly large wave, and there’s an almighty gasp, followed by a fresh round of yakking. Some chunder in silence, but most of my fellow passengers were loud chuckers – and some of them deserved an Oscar for their performance.

North by north west Malaysia – the final days

With the Indonesian Visa in hand, we climb aboard a bus and head north, bound for the cool, tea growing area of the Cameron Highlands. As I step of the bus in Tanah Rata, I get an unusual feeling... is that cold? After the past 6 months, where the only coolness has been artificially produced conditioned air, it’s both novel and refreshing to be naturally cold.

After an initial suspicion about a lack of fan in the room, I realise that I’ll need that extra blanket they jokingly brought for me. On the road, I’ve realised the value and importance of simple things – hot showers and comfortable pillows. This place has both in abundant supply, and with the weather a little on the cool side, it’s heavenly to disappear under the blankets with a good book.

The Cameron Highlands is pretty famous (in Malaysia anyway) for tea plantations, so we head out to the biggest in the area, BOC tea. Since living in the UK and travelling in India, my tea appreciation has increased exponentially and the tea they knock out at BOC is pretty much top notch. Scones with jam and cream aren’t too bad either, though I really need the walk back after dominating more than my fair share.

Soon we’re on a bus north again, heading for the north-west Malaysian island of Penang. Stepping out of the air-conditioned bus into the coastal humidity is like being asphyxiated with a warm wet blanket– instantly hot and sticky, and a big shock after the past few days in a cool climate. The boat for Indonesia leaves tomorrow which throws a spanner in our works - we planned to have a couple of days in Penang, but a few is too many... so we’re leaving Penang after spending only one afternoon here.

We scramble for essentials – a good book to read, some pharmaceuticals, and a few odds and ends, and then spend a couple of hours wandering the streets of Little India. I fall in love with India all over again – the mad energy, loud music and genuinely happy faces are inspiring and invigorating. I sense a trip to India on the horizon..

Kuala Lumpur

It's nice to be in a new country, a new mix of culture, language, and religion. It's the end of Ramadan here, the holy Islamic month of fasting, and the streets are heaving with hungry people. Everyone is heading home for the Hari Raya Puasa holidays to see friends and family as is customary in Muslim cultures. We’re just pulling up in KL long enough to organise an Indonesian visa – these holidays mean we need to extend our stay.

Aiming for the cheap (and mostly nasty) Chinatown, in central KL, we find a sweaty little enclave of dank hotel rooms, DVD salesmen and deep fried street food – a thriving hub heaving with energy. Festering puddles line the humid streets, as bags of rubbish steam in the oppressive summer heat. A rat’s dream come true! A new hostel becomes our home away from home for the next 5 days in KL as we wait for the visa shop to open.

After nearly 2 months playing in Thailand, the Thai baht is our term of reference and I'm constantly converting local prices into baht to check thriftiness. KL is somewhat more expensive than Thailand for accommodation, but food is on par. Gonna take me a while to adjust to the new currency, just in time for a new country.

West coast

Once again, I am surprised because my assumptions were not true. I was expecting Phuket to be a seedy hole full of hookers and fat old European tourists. This small slice of the Phuket "community" hang out at Patong, but Phuket is so much more than that little stinky beach.

More ice white sand that Thailand is famous for, amazing mountains dashing into the sea, azure blue water promising amazing diving and swimming and really friendly locals going about their daily business. I can understand how someone would want to head here from western Europe for a couple of weeks to park up on the beach. Phuket gets two thumbs up.

Island hopping

Leaving the ocean side cocoon of Prachup khiri Khan, we head south to Surat Thani for the ferry to Koh Samui. I’ve avoided Koh Samui based on rumours – rumours which were completely unfounded... well sort of. If you head to the main tourist settlement of Chaweng the beach is picture postcard perfect, but expect to find 5 star resorts back to back, and shopping malls by the dozen.

With an international airport, Koh Samui is a top destination for the 2 week holiday makers, and I can see why people come here, but it’s not exactly the scene I’m chasing. Head to the next bay north or south and there’s quiet bays with ice white sand and deep aqua-marine water. Paradise is the reward for persistent searching. We hire a motorbike as old as the hills, who we aptly dub Methuselah – strong as a bull but tired on the long winding ascents – and hit the roads to explore the island.


Looking north across the water from our beach side bungalow, we can see the smaller island of Koh Phagnan, which comes alive once a month for the Full Moon Party (FMP). We’ve purposely planned to arrive after the Full Moon so we miss the crowds and inflated prices. When we arrive three days after the party, locals are still recovering, there’s rubbish lying around the place and the infrastructure is struggling to catch up. Sad that tourists come to Thailand to see beautiful, untouched beaches, and yet contribute to their degradation.

But that's enough of my rant. Being the week post FMP, it’s deliciously quiet and the rain makes it good times for relaxing with a book, and that's exactly what I do.