20th January – Melaka to Parit Jawa – 40.48 miles, ride time 3.53, av 10.1, max 17.9
Now today showed marked contrast to what we realised had happened last night and the distance and ride time don’t give justice to how today panned out. Getting out of Melaka required instinct versus road signs. It is unbelievable or maybe not that the signs are in the main one way, sending you back the way you came and wont direct you away from the city...or maybe this was all a cunning plan...
Parit Jawa was not our intended destination but 20 miles into our ride we met with 4 Malay tourers. Rashid (Acid) was the main man I spoke to for the next 10 or so miles as we rode together towards their homes in Muar. Refreshment stop was paid for by them, the bike shop they took us to could not have been more helpful as when I entered another puncture happened and this time I was not the one with oil over me. The bike shop owner then unbeknown to us paid for our lunch next door. Acid was very knowledge in bicycle and motorbike touring terms and with his advice and discussion with his friends, we revised the route to ensure a better crossing of the country west to east, in a couple of days time. We then headed for a guesthouse recommended by him in Parit Jawa, a small fishing village on the coast. We checked in and then wandered to the jetty and watched the wildlife and world go by.
Parit Jawa was not our intended destination but 20 miles into our ride we met with 4 Malay tourers. Rashid (Acid) was the main man I spoke to for the next 10 or so miles as we rode together towards their homes in Muar. Refreshment stop was paid for by them, the bike shop they took us to could not have been more helpful as when I entered another puncture happened and this time I was not the one with oil over me. The bike shop owner then unbeknown to us paid for our lunch next door. Acid was very knowledge in bicycle and motorbike touring terms and with his advice and discussion with his friends, we revised the route to ensure a better crossing of the country west to east, in a couple of days time. We then headed for a guesthouse recommended by him in Parit Jawa, a small fishing village on the coast. We checked in and then wandered to the jetty and watched the wildlife and world go by.
| Fishing |
| Ummm, prehistoric |
Dinner arrangements meant that Acid and 2 of his friends from this morning then joined us for food and again insisted on paying. This was only after G had been videoed putting her trailer together which should now be published on the interweb. Acid runs a website for tourers of all kinds and transport methods and with 40000 members and growing I think G will be building her fan base. We also learnt that for this climate, silicon oils are all well and good but 'Singer' sowing machine oil works just as well and at 50p a pop versus £6 makes economical sense too. (we have kept in contact with these guys so if you are ever in Malaysia on bicycle, motorbike, 4x4 then keep an eye out for these folks
| Rashid (Acid) on the far right |
G also had some news tonight which we await confirmation but it looks as though she is secure in work when she returns.
21st January 2011 – Parit Jawa to Kluang – 56.40 miles, av 10.5, max. 18.7 max, ride time 5 hours and 21 minutes.
A speedy morning through Genting Plantations with a break after 20 miles and then the riding got hard as we faced the headwind which cuts across Malaysia from the monsoon season which hugs the east coast. Lunch at the newly opened ‘Organic Chicken’ gave us some insight into how the state of Johor sees itself. Organic everything from farms that we now pass. Batu Pahat, and my first near miss of the day when the driver of a 20 ton tipper forgot to look out of his windscreen as he entered from a side road into my path. Owl vision and 10 weeks of riding in SE Asia stopped me from becoming like the majority of snakes we have seen, which in the UK would be hedgehog equivalents, flat.
The gradients we were told about yesterday began in earnest outside Ayer Hitam a town which had taunted us for miles in its frequent mentions and the changing distance km markers. Arriving tired after riding through an average of 39 degrees and at least a 20mph headwind we entered Kluang. G did her usual of spotting a hotel sign from 4000 yards and we pulled in to look. I was distracted by a ‘coo-eee’ from a lady of a certain age carrying her bags and a folded umbrella.
Where we're we from and could she buy us a coffee were her first words and then when we explained we were looking for a hotel, she told us, and I mean told us, to follow her. She marched into the road, the umbrella went up and she told us to walk behind her, not ride across the 4 lanes of traffic she now held at bay with her raised hand to a hotel she said had the right old fashioned values of cleanliness we needed after a day in the saddle. Mrs Doubtfire I have named her, with a touch of Miss Marple an age somewhere between 50 and mid 60’s. We arrived at the hotel after many hello’s as she greeted and was greeted by what seemed everyone we passed.
Where we're we from and could she buy us a coffee were her first words and then when we explained we were looking for a hotel, she told us, and I mean told us, to follow her. She marched into the road, the umbrella went up and she told us to walk behind her, not ride across the 4 lanes of traffic she now held at bay with her raised hand to a hotel she said had the right old fashioned values of cleanliness we needed after a day in the saddle. Mrs Doubtfire I have named her, with a touch of Miss Marple an age somewhere between 50 and mid 60’s. We arrived at the hotel after many hello’s as she greeted and was greeted by what seemed everyone we passed.
The hotel took us in and our bikes and we were told, again, to meet her in 15 minutes at the coffee shop round the corner. It takes us a while to get gear in and bikes locked up and a knock at our hotel room door told us we were running a little later than expected.
The coffee shop was populated by men and the entire Kluang traffic police force, which she had also bought coffee for. She bought us ours and then said she must be off as she had things to do. I imagine she did with a level of energy and vigour that left us both exhausted and highly entertained. Thank you Jenny, I don’t know many seafood restaurants with public relations officers but can completely understand that you must be a loss to the seafood restaurant in Mersing. Now we could freshen up and de-grime from the day, then dinner, confirmed job offer for G…whoop! and retire to the land of cycling sheep…
22nd Janaury – Kluang to Mersing – 55.97 miles, av 10.1, max 26, ride time 5hrs 30mins
Sometimes you can be lulled into a false sense of security and today proved we needed wits about us at all times. This was a day of gradients and downhills only. Not a flat level stretch of road did our wheels pass over until a mile from our destination.
I wont mention cartographers again in any detail, but seriously a whole set of road networks that enabled us to save 10 miles of riding. The road was a 2 laner that led out of Kluang and into the hills and forests of the middle of the peninsular. Our first incident involved a fire engine, we had heard a set of sirens and first came to the 2 bike fire engines, don’t laugh, the firemen where in their bright orange disruptive pattern outfits looking like extras from a low budget spaghetti WW2 movie, hose reels attached to the back of their bikes and then they were followed 3 minutes later by a fire engine on a mission. It came so close to both of us that had we had loose clothing on we would have been taken with it. Then the articulated tanker that overtook me into oncoming traffic so close to its trailer as it swung in then another 3 inches and I would have been side-swiped. Later in the day we had a motorist drive towards with middle finger raised out of the window, either an unfortunate accident and should not have really been driving with a stiff arm or just plain rude!
The final incident left G shaken, we approached a right hand bend with much advance warning to slow down as it then became a 1 in 3 hill. G was behind me and I heard the screech of rubber as a car misjudged the bend and caused G to have the sense to bail out before being rear ended. The motorist did apologise, but not stop which had he we would had some serious gesticulatory activity. We needed to stop regroup and then rode the remainder of the way nose to tail with G in front. This was without doubt the closest both of us had come to ending the trip through no fault of our own.
Then to top off the day, at a set of roadworks we were flagged through by the man with the green flag, we could see the red being waved at the other end. A motorist however in his 4 x 4 pick-up, saw us and decided that we couldn’t take up the road and stop his progress. He ignored what was now being waved frenetically at him and swung out towards us head on. We have a tactic for this – make like a car with seriously mad grins on – side by side we rode and realising that these 2 fierce looking westerners were not slowing or even making any attempt to get out of his way, swung right off road into the ditch to go round us. What a pillock!
We did have the excitement of looking out for the curious and slow road crossing monkeys as a group of 40 seemed to ignore the airhorns of a speeding coach, the forests then gave way to deforestation and the tell tale scarring of the landscape as ecology was mismanaged. Young plantations were next before entering the more mature. Lunch was at a tiny roadside café on a road that didn’t exist and was incredible. Much laughter and banter from all the patrons was a great break from a day of insane motorists.
We arrived in Mersing well ahead of schedule, found a hotel and then cycled down to the port to find out the ferry times. This was when we found out that due to the monsoon season and the fatal accident on New Years Eve, that ferries were running once a day from and to the island of Tioman, our next destination. We stopped at a little cake shop on our way back to the hotel and were joined at our table by Omar who runs the backpackers hotel in town, perfect english, girlfriend of 26 years who is working in Hereford and many stories of him visiting friends in Truro and Penzance! Dinner that evening at P's run by a Swiss couple provided some useful insights into how life works in Malaysia as well as many stories of why we shouldnt make the sea crossing during monsoon season. Hey ho, let us see what tomorrow brings, we at least have re-stocked our book supplies as buying/trading second hand books in Malaysia is not the easiest or cheapest of activities.
| the route lies over yonder |
| oh and then on a bit |
| over the top of that hill I'm sure |
We arrived in Mersing well ahead of schedule, found a hotel and then cycled down to the port to find out the ferry times. This was when we found out that due to the monsoon season and the fatal accident on New Years Eve, that ferries were running once a day from and to the island of Tioman, our next destination. We stopped at a little cake shop on our way back to the hotel and were joined at our table by Omar who runs the backpackers hotel in town, perfect english, girlfriend of 26 years who is working in Hereford and many stories of him visiting friends in Truro and Penzance! Dinner that evening at P's run by a Swiss couple provided some useful insights into how life works in Malaysia as well as many stories of why we shouldnt make the sea crossing during monsoon season. Hey ho, let us see what tomorrow brings, we at least have re-stocked our book supplies as buying/trading second hand books in Malaysia is not the easiest or cheapest of activities.
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