Monday, 11 March 2013
A quiet day brings me to Ipoh, which is the capital of the Perak state and the fourth largest city in Malaysia. This is the 9th of March and my first day alone on the road (Pierre is running out of time and needs to head straight down to Singapore along the West coast, see the previous post). It feels like a new start on this trip and I’m a bit aroused at the prospect of managing the challenges ahead on my own. In the morning I proceed with setting the new bike computer bought in Penang (only Pierre had one so far). Like a boy playing with a new gift I relish my new ability to read speed and distances. I feel the master of my destiny! Except that there is nobody now to cover up for me when I drop or forget things around : after half an hour, I suddenly realize I’m missing my cycling gloves. I decide to turn around (gloves will come in handy in the highlands) and against all odds find them on the roadside close to the hotel. Another sign that there is a god for absent-minded people!
A quiet day brings me to Ipoh, which is the capital of the Perak state and the fourth largest city in Malaysia. This is the 9th of March and my first day alone on the road (Pierre is running out of time and needs to head straight down to Singapore along the West coast, see the previous post). It feels like a new start on this trip and I’m a bit aroused at the prospect of managing the challenges ahead on my own. In the morning I proceed with setting the new bike computer bought in Penang (only Pierre had one so far). Like a boy playing with a new gift I relish my new ability to read speed and distances. I feel the master of my destiny! Except that there is nobody now to cover up for me when I drop or forget things around : after half an hour, I suddenly realize I’m missing my cycling gloves. I decide to turn around (gloves will come in handy in the highlands) and against all odds find them on the roadside close to the hotel. Another sign that there is a god for absent-minded people!
Ipoh is OK but not mind blowing. There are a few colonial buildings but nothing spectacular. At night, all the tourists (mostly Malaysians or Singaporeans) seem to flock along the main street of the Chinese “Old Town” to have dinner, buy biscuits (a local speciality apparently), or check the night market. This is my program as well.
When leaving Ipoh on the following morning, I am mentally prepared for a big day. There is a total altitude difference of 2000m to cover and a distance of nearly 100km. The Malaysian sun will start hitting hard early in the morning. The air should be cooler once in the highlands, but the lower bends are likely to be treacherously hot. I got used to bearing the heat and the humidity during the previous weeks, but never in mountain conditions. So physiologically I’m heading in unknown territories. To spice things up there is apparently no supply of food or water during the first 50km of the ascent. One very reassuring point though: the road is said to climb steadily with a low gradient all along.
Fortunately the day goes pretty well. Aside from an extra 10km lost in the morning because of bad directions (again, never point suggestively when you ask for directions: often people will nod just to make you happy). The climb is hot indeed, but the 5 litres of water and “100 Plus” I’m carrying allow me to quench my thirst as needed. The winning strategy is to take it easy and avoid overheating. Still I’m amazed by the amount of liquid I’m loosing: the sweat from the upper body is soaking my shorts and then dripping nearly continuously into my leather cycling shoes. I would not be wetter had I simply jumped into a river.
When I reach the first high point the weather is much cooler indeed. The clouds are threatening to engulf the road and a small drizzle is falling at times. No wonder the whole landscape is so green! The roadsides are full of activity: tourists are happily stepping into the souvenir shops advertising local farm production (strawberry is especially popular). Powerful motorbikes are racing up the winding road. We are Sunday indeed and the Cameron Highlands make for a popular weekend destination, even for people driving as far as from Singapore. By the time I enter Tanah Rata the drizzle has turned into tropical rain. I am nearly machine-washed when I check in the Cameronian Inn.
The next day is spent exploring the surroundings. So far I’m not too impressed. The landscape along the main road is often damaged by plastic tarps used for greenhouse farming. The towns, Tanah Rata and Brinchang, look like they have grown too fast to accommodate the flow of tourist, not unlike big French ski resorts (think Avoriaz). However, the bright blue morning sky and the fresh air encourage me to dig further.
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| One of the better views in Tanah Rata |
Instead of heading for a muddy walk in the forest - the favored option of the “active” tourists in the area - I opt for a leisurely bike ride up to hilltop Gunung Brinchang (2031m), which is the highpoint of the Cameron Highlands. Also the highpoint of our three month biking trip as a matter of fact.
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| View from Gunung Brinchang (2031m) |
Once off the main road - just past the butterfly gardens - I realize that “leasurly” is not a good term to describe the next 10 kilometres. The road is incredibly steep. All the muscle power built in the previous weeks is needed to reach the top. But the whole way is completely stunning! At first the roads narrows in a pleasant countryside with well-maintained gardens and a distinctively British charm. Then the tea plantations appear, shinning patches of green running down the hills. The quality of the light and the brightness of the colours make for a special moment that I enjoy deeply.
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| Tea plantation on the way to Gunung Brinchang |
Good Job Fahad
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