Letter from Penang

Dajia Hao,

Hullo to all, hope everyone is well.

Good luck to all those involved with the WTPA Festival. Our thoughts are with you.

Only 2 weeks left of our annual pilgrimage and we're starting to panic.

I can't imagine leaving here despite the persistent rain.

The weekend after we returned from Borneo was a lot of fun.

A group of us spent time cooking up some local curries at the Spice Garden followed by a website building seminar.

The next day we took a boat to Monkey Beach and then trekked up to the lighthouse at Muka Head. After exploring the lighthouse with its spectacular views over the north-west corner of Penang island, we continued on by boat to Pantai Kerachut to view the turtle breeding sanctuary and meromictic lake ( first person to email back with even the foggiest idea of what that is will win free accommodation in Penang for two weeks next year - serious ).

Nazlina, Johanna & Johan

at the turtle hatchery

Trekking in the Malaysian jungle is a wonderful experience. But, if confronted by a tiger it is important to stand perfectly still and sing.

The Malaysian National Anthem works best. If the tiger still wants to attack then try the Singaporean or Thai National Anthems. It may be an over-the-border tiger.

Generally they don't like eating people. Of course, if they're really hungry and there's nothing else to eat, the familiar 'Macca's effect' comes in to play. We start looking like a cheeseburger with fries.

Over the weekend we met a really nice Texan who writes articles and takes wildlife pics for ecology magazines and websites.

He married a Malay girl and they've lived in KL for the past 20 years. He converted to Islam as a matter of course and was asked to select a Moslem name. He chose Razlee Dazlee much to the chagrin of his adopted family.

Enjoyed a funny night out with Jamal ( a Malay friend ) and his wife.

His latest saying is "never late than better". His tales about Arab tourists are priceless. Ramadan has just started so the Arabs have gone back to the desert.

Everybody here is breathing a sigh of relief.

It's holiday time. Appu and a couple of drivers who work with him, their wives, a tribe of kids, Lotus Bud and I, all crammed in a bus and headed for the Genting Highlands.

If you enjoy smoke filled casinos, lots of expensive franchised fast food outlets and soulless Malaysian versions of crass American culture, then the Genting Highlands could be just the place for you.

On the upside, it is cooler if you need a break from the tropical heat and there are some fun rides in the Theme Park for kids of all ages.

Genting is where the Malaysians come en masse to play. It's like a religious pilgrimage. Like doing Haj. They come from every Kampong on the peninsula at least once in their lives.

During a two night stay we didn't spy a single western face.

We stayed in room 929, one of 11,000 rooms that make up the largest hotel on the planet. The whole place looks like the departure lounge of an airport. There is not a single vacant room. Why?

The Malaysian mind is essentially unfathomable.

They're all wearing masks to guard against the media-hyped up H1N1 virus but they are happy to share food and drink bottles, leave stagnant water to attract dengue, smoke themselves stupid into burgeoning cancer wards and never use

soap to wash their hands. I love them but they are a people who have massively embraced 21st century technology only minutes after evolving from jellyfish.

Issues such as caring for the environment, racial equality, women's rights, health and safety have not even blipped on the radar yet.

We are going to Thailand tomorrow for a couple of days for some trekking.

I have to go and learn the Thai National Anthem.

Love to all.

John and Veronica.

Letter from Kuching

Dajia Hao,

Our best wishes to everyone.

After 2 weeks in Penang, Lotus Bud and I decided we needed a holiday.
The local Chinese doctor strongly advised that I convalesce somewhere far away from Durian. Six nights in Borneo should do the trick.

Durian stall at Balik Pulau

I needed a small backpack, so, while driving around the Kampongs of Balik Pulau looking for 'Red Prawn' Durian ( I would inject that stuff ), we found a cheap bag shop. I bought a really cheap pack - I thought, if it lasts the 6 nights in Borneo it will owe me nothing.

Next day we left our apartment, said goodbye to our neighbour, ' Bama ' ( I call her the President ), picked up my pack and it literally fell to pieces.

We had a harrowing drive to the airport racing with the clock, found a park and then ran to the Check-in Counter like contestants on the Amazing Race.
"Sorry Sir, your flight departure has been delayed by one hour".

While Veronica sat sipping her Cafe Latte at Coffee Bean, I sewed my bag back together.
We passed through Airport security like the Invisible Man and his imaginary wife. The dude on the x-ray machine was so engrossed in telling a pretty wanita about the great nasi lemak he had that morning that he didn't notice us, our bags or the 2 litres of nitro-glycerine we smuggled through in our water bottles.
Welcome to Malaysia.
This is a very laconic country.
When we arrived here from Australia over a month ago, I found the padlock was missing from my suitcase when I took it off the carousel.
Not wanting to be the next Shappelle Corby, I immediately notified the nearest Security Guard. He just waved me on. I persisted.
"My padlock is gone, anything could have been planted in my case."
He looked at me like I was beginning to cause him grief. He eventually motioned toward the Lost Property counter and suggested I go and report the theft of my padlock.

So we are back in Borneo after 7 years.
What a wonderful city Kuching is. The Sarawak River snakes through the city with the Old Chinatown on one bank and the majestic Mosque and Palace of the White Rajahs on the other. An evening spent down at the waterfront sipping rice wine and eating fine Malay food is almost perfect.

We're staying at an Iban operated hotel. 70 years ago the Iban were still Headhunters but nowadays they prefer to take our money and let us go.

Manager of the Iban Hotel

asking a guest to leave.

We shared breakfast with a group of loud Americans. One guy was telling everyone about a recent trip to Kazakstan where he saw a family drive by with a cow in the car. He said he didn't know how they got it in there with all the kids but it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen.

No trip to Borneo is complete without staying at a Longhouse.
We chose a Bidayuh village called Annah Rais, up in the mountains near the Kalamantan ( Indonesian ) border.
On the drive there from Kuching we passed a shop with two signs out the front. One said 'Pet Rabbit For Sale' and the other said 'Fresh Rabbit Meat'.

The Longhouse has almost 200 doors. An entire community effectively living under one continuous stretch of roofing with a bamboo verandah connecting the houses.

After settling in, we opted for a 3 hour jungle walk from the Longhouse to a beautiful three tier waterfall. The walk was hot and sweaty but very spectacular. At one point we walked within metres of a slash and burn area. The sound of the exploding bamboo and raging flames was quite frightening. We couldn't help but get a small sense of how
overwhelming the horror of Victoria's bushfires must have been for many.

At the waterfall we ate rice and chicken cooked in bamboo before swimming in a rock pool at the base of the falls.

Our fellow travellers were 4 Singaporeans and a Japanese girl we named YoYo because she couldn't stand still.

Our night at the Longhouse included a cultural show that made tai chi look like a Bullfight.
Our MC, fat Mr. Edward, introduced each performance with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a beer in his hand. Each dance was performed by his Grandmother dressed in feathers and fighting to stay alive. Twice she fell asleep in the middle of a 'dance' and fat Mr. Edward had to come out and give her a prod.
The 'guests' were required to join in the last dance. We waved our hands from side to side as we took turns in holding Granny up. We swayed to the rhythm as the Bidayuh warriors sat around in their AC/DC and Slipknot T-shirts, texting their mates on their iphones.

Back in Kuching, we caught a local bus out to Semingoh Orangutan Sanctuary. It's worth coming to Borneo if for no other reason than to spend time with these awesome creatures.

Spent a night at Bako in a wooden hut.

Close to Kuching and accessible only by boat, this National Park is arguably the best wildlife experience short of an African safari.

At Bako, the ubiquitous and strangely proportioned Proboscus Monkeys look uncannily like me - according to several of my Malaysian ex-friends.

We arrived back in Penang at midnight last night. Our holiday is over and, perhaps mercifully, so too the Durian season.

Malaysia is a culinary heaven.
This year we have a great kitchen in our apartment and Veronica has cooked up some smart local curries. The best part has been exploring our favourite markets for fresh vegetables and buying different spices in Little India.
On the other hand, China ( if you're not on an organised tour ), can be a culinary nightmare. It can be so bad that even McDonalds seems like a good option.
We got chatting to a Chinese guy lately who told us he loved visiting Australia but he couldn't find anything to eat. He added - "Thank God for McDonalds".

Love to all.

Many thanks to those of you who have sent emails. We really enjoy hearing from you.

All the best - John and Veronica.