No time to post

dary! Legendary! But let's skip over the legendary day and first tell you about the next couple of days. I left Ipoh by bus to go to the Cameron Highlands. That wasn't too interesting so I will skip ahead. By the time we got to the CH, my ears had popped several times. The Czech couple I had met on the bus and I dropped our stuff off at the first budget hotel we saw and went out for some lovely Malay food. I ordered Ayam Paprik and The-O-Limau, which prompted the question 'how long have you been in Malaysia?'. Since 'Two days' wasn't a satisfactory answer, I gave away my secret. I cheat. I have ordered loads of Indonesian food in NL and therefore already knew all the names of the dishes. They were even more impressed.

After a nice night of sleep on the worst bed I have been in so far, I went on a guided jungle trek. I met a friendly Dutch couple there and we spoke Dutch most of the day, which was quite nice. It's not too often that I have a secret language with people I just met.

Apparently people who have never exercised in their life thought that walking up a mountain through a moist 30ºC jungle would be easy for them, so the four of us had to wait up sometimes. At the end of the walk, we saw the flowering Rafflesia. I still think the ant paths and venomous snake we saw on the way were more impressive, but there you go. When we got back down, we went to an Orang Asli village. Orang is man, Asli means natural. We got a try at hitting a target with a blowpipe, and I hit the bullseye. I fucking did! Apparently I am just an Asli born hunter.

Apparently people who have never exercised in their life thought that walking up a mountain through a moist 30ºC jungle would be easy for them, so the four of us had to wait up sometimes. At the end of the walk, we saw the flowering Rafflesia. I still think the ant paths and venomous snake we saw on the way were more impressive, but there you go. When we got back down, we went to an Orang Asli village. Orang is man, Asli means natural. We got a try at hitting a target with a blowpipe, and I hit the bullseye. I fucking did! Apparently I am just an Asli born hunter.

Afterwards we went to the tea plantage and a strawberry farm. The tea plantage was interesting, both because of the amazing views and because we heard that the workers get 22 sen per kilogram of leaves. 22 sen. 5 eurocent. Per KILOGRAM. So yeah. And then the strawberries were juicy and sweet. They have to build greenhouse-like structures in order to protect the plants from rain.

The next day my bus left at 4 pm so I decided to have a nice walk around the hills. I got to a waterfall and found a dehydrated British guy. We walked the rest of the trail together and saw a leech walking on a tree trunk. Pretty creepy animal. The trail ended in a mango and cabbage farm. And when I say in, I mean IN. We used the tree trunks to slow down our descent along the slope. After that we noticed that there was actually no way to walk back to Tanah Rata and get there before 4, so we decided to take a taxi.

Sadly, deciding this did not magically make one appear in front of us. So we walked. And walked. And walked. And then there was a honey farm. Since we had run out of water, we went up there and hoped for someone who could provide us water. (For anyone getting worried about me at this time, remember that I survived, and be reassured that I was walking past a river and had my Chloride drops with me). And there was. We had 2 big bottles of water each, and a honeystick. And then she called us a teksi, since there was no bas perenthi close by. After a nice Indian lunch, I went back to the hotel to catch my bus. This bus ride was slightly less uneventful than the one earlier. The bus driver decided to take the curvy mountain road with an average speed of 85 km/h. Also, overtaking works different here than in the Netherlands. If you want to go faster, you do. The other cars -both the one you are overtaking and the ones coming from the other direction, move to the sides of the road. Pretty scary, when going down a curvy mountain road with a steep drop to the right and an almost straight wall to the left. This was actually not the scary part of the ride though. After we stopped for food, around 8 pm, the driver started going slower. Then, under an overpass, he stopped. This would be okay, but um... we were driving on the highway. So as cars were racing by at about 110km/h, he got out and started smoking a cigarette. As you do. No explanation, nothing. He kept looking out to the right though, like he was expecting something. Eventually one of the other passengers got out to ask him what was happening. He was waiting for his brother. Perfect meeting point, obviously. After about 15 minutes, he decided to not wait any longer and got back into the car. At the next one, he stopped again, his brother got in and we could continue our journey. After an otherwise uneventful trip, we arrived in Georgetown. A beautiful city named after King George. Sadly, I was staying in a hostel in Batu Feringgi. The taxi there cost me more than the bus from 300 km away: 12 euro. It took almost 45 minutes. The next time I will tell you about the exciting days I had in Penang.

Now about that legendary day. I checked into the hotel at 7.30 am because the night bus dropped me off at the bus station around 6 am. I went on to relax, take a shower, watch some shows in bed, take another shower because I didn't feel that clean yet, watch some more shows in bed, read a book in bed and finally go out for a massage and dinner before taking a shower and go to bed. Legendary.