Jan 29, 2004

Situated at the hillside of 1524 m height on the northwest corner of Pahang, Cameron Highlands offered temperate climate in the topical Malaysia which lured many visitors for a cooling retreat. I was baited to experience a change of climate and pace without travelling far during this Lunar New Year season. This day, my wife Cheng and I awaited for a coach after work at Chinatown. We had to transfer to another bus once reached the Woodland Causeway. There was a heavy traffic jam while proceeding through Johor, mainly due to a roadblock check. While waiting to clear the road, we were entertained by a firework display in preparation of Hari Raya Haji; and all our patience were somehow paid off. During a supper break at Yong Peng, it was blessing to witness a loud firecracker casually set up near a coffeeshop; whereas pathetically in Singapore, the only legal place to deafen our ears was in Chinatown.

Jan 30, 2004

The coach drove for five hours before arriving at Kuala Lumpur. I woke up in the midst of my dream and sleepily transferred to a small van heading to Cameron Highlands. The van brought us furthur north along the highway to Tapah (near Ipoh) for another hour. By then, it was two past midnight. The van wriggled the long winding roads uphills passing Ringlet and Tanah Rata. It made countless bends, almost to 180 degree which induced nothing like pleasure, only nausea. The torment lasted around an hour which was felt like a year before arriving at Strawberry Park Resort. Strawberry Park laid high on a plateau, in between Tanah Rata and Brinchang town. This luxurious resort provided good amenities and spacious room, however it was too remote not to reach the nearest town for quick meal or grocery without hailing a cab. Moreover, its surrounding of merely dense rainforest marvelled me none. Nevertheless, the 3-night stay over here was part of the good deal in the tour package, so I had no big regret over our accommodations.

Typical Cameron Road Sign

We rested in the remaining morning to recuperate from the tiring bus journey. Still not sure of getting around the area, we preferred to have an expensive lunch instead at the resort. We had booked an afternoon countryside visit with Titiwasan Tour at 60 ringgits and expected someone at the resort lobby to bring us around. Henry, a middle-aged uncle with his tinted grey hair, fetched us in a mini-van. Firstly, he brought us to the Cactus Valley for an hour which its highlight was display of cactus potters lined in rows. Some cactus were small enough to carry in hand palm, while others were as big as a toddle. This garden also housed apple trees, roofed with strewn tomatoes and blossomed with brilliant roses.

Next, Henry led us to take a 30-min walk on Path 9 towards Robinson Waterfall near a power station. The trail was paved well in a zebra of green and red tiles but we had no difficulties walking despite little drizzle. While heading back, Henry introduced us to a villager selling his self-harvested blueberry jam. I stole a peak to notice Henry put his hands behind to receive his commission when we bought a jam bottle, kept quietly but smiled slyly.

We drove far southward to Bharat Tea Estate which provided a open-area cafe for visitors to admire the green views of waving tea hills and valleys. And so we sat under an umbrella while constantly sipping its local tea. Shortly, Henry drove us into the southern vegetable farms near the Boh Tea Estate. Being ignorant about vegetable cultivations, we seldom gave satisfying answers when Henry asked us to name various vegetable types he noticed along the route. We were determined to try out the fresh vegetables in our next meal. Our last stop was a little Rock Fall which was a natural small waterfall by the highway road.

The tour ended in the evening and we requested to alight at the Tanah Rata to have our unguided exploration. Even though Tanah Rata was the biggest of the three Cameron towns, it comprised nothing more than rows of shops and restaurants along the main road. Initially, we intended to eat at Little Grasshopper but the locals informed us that it had shut down. (Rough Guide, please take note) Instead we had our herbal-souped steamboat dinner at Orient Restoran, which its ambiance was oriented-like and its waiters were young and swift. Tasteful it was, however, it was just too much for only tow of us to finish.

The night fell and winds blew strongly. We were beginning to freeze in our pathetic outfits, eagerly to get back our dwelling. At the town taxi stand, we acquainted a Indian taxi driver, named Velo. He was in his 50s yet appearing strong, outspoken and diligent. He drove us back to Strawberry Park Resort and we hired him to pick us up in the next day morning. The night temperature dropped furthur and our room was no less warmer, even bathing with heater required to withstand the cold once the tap was turned off. We cuddled in the blankets and the cold still penetrated. It was our fatigue that knocked us to sleep.

Jan 31, 2004

I woke up to notice that the sunray had already penetrated into the room and we were supposed to get up before daybreak. The alarm clock did not ring because I mistakingly set my alarm clock to 'pm' instead of 'am'. We washed up hurriedly and went for breakfast. Velo, the taxi driver arrived much earlier than scheduled.

Judged from the clear sky, we believed it was a good time to trek up to Gunung Brinchang, (ht 2000m) the highest point in Cameron Highlands. We instructed Velo to drive to Path 1 near an army quarters which was the starting point leading to the mountain. This was our first time to climb a foreign peak alone and saving considerable money without booking from any travel agency. We put our trekking confidence on our map, compass, topological skill and directional signboards. After passing through some village huts, we scaled up steeply through the deep jungle. The gaining elevation turned the jungle more foggy, mossy and muddy; and the wind blew so powerfully and loudly that all leaves swayed on one side. The fact of loud wind and no other human existence tickled our worries and hidden fear. Were we too foolhardy to just explore this alien place without any guidance? This question propped up, nevertheless, we had rather pushed northwards towards the highest destination. Discovering any signboard to indicate that we were on the right track was always a relief; but not seeing one of them for too long accumulated my worry that we might be lost. Towards the last part of the route, we had to twist our body, scramble up awkwardly through many muddy fallen tree logs. We finished the trek in about two hour, doubled of what the guide book stated. Late as we were and tinted with mud in our track pants, yet we were at high spirit with remarkable sense of achievement. Some Westerners took an easy way up along tar road to the peak by riding small scooters or tourist jeeps. Afternoon drew near and the heavy fog blinded the whole area, depriving us from any good overview.

Sungai Palas Boh Tea Estate

We had arranged Velo to expect us in the next one and half hour at some vegetable and fruit stalls. We descended along tar road, long and winding of which we walked patiently. The walk led us to Sungai Palas Boh Tea Estate where undulating hills and valleys had their carpets of tea plants trimmed into line arrays. (See my sketch on the tea estate.) Tea workers immersed themselves inside the tea forest, busy plucking and scissoring out the leaves while throwing into the bucket strapped at their back. We slowed our paces to admire the most beautiful view in Cameron and snap more pictures. It was a wonderful eye-fulfilling reward after a hectic climb. We arrived half an hour late at our rendezvous place to meet Velo. He brought us to Brinchang town, 7km beyond Tanah Rata for a short lunch at a coffeeshop, before he dropped us furthur at our accommodated resort.

In mid-afternoon, Cheng became more and more nauseated, highly suspected of being food poisoned. She was listless with no appetite. I had mild stomach upset as I visited to the stool more often, but I was strong still. Therefore, we were compelled to cancel our afternoon itinerary. So we spent almost the whole afternoon watching television and sleeping while Cheng could recuperate soon. Around four, she felt restless and determined to walk out for some fresh air. We dialed Velo to bring us to the weekend night market at Brinchang town. The night market comprised of many stalls in an evacuated carpark, selling flowers, cactus, fruits and souvenirs. Cheng's condition was no less improving as she vomited twice, so we cut short this outing. We took a long time to buy our take-away food since the coffeeshops were packed with families. The taxi stand was equally crowded in this weekend. It started to drizzle and my patience for hailing a cab was thin. I left no choice but to trouble Velo again. While waiting for Velo's cab, another taxi driver permitted us to bring us back earlier. I instructed several times to the taxi driver to notice Velo about our early departure and not to come the next early morning, since Cheng would need more rest. The taxi driver rest assured that he would.

Feb 01, 2004

This day was Hari Raya Haji, yet our isolated stay avoided any sensing of festival joy. We were astonished to see Velo was waiting us in early morning, only to find out that taxi driver did not keep his promise to meet Velo. Velo had searched high and low last night for our presence while we were already safely landed on the resort. We sought his apology and he was very forgiven, knowing about Cheng's plight.

Parit Falls

Fortunately, Cheng was more lively and more prepared to seek new exploration. We decided to go for an easy trek. We felt that we understood Velo so well that we were obliged to hail his cab one again. We proceeded to the Forestry Department, the starting point of Path 4 to the Parit Falls. The trek was very accessiable and mostly levelled. We broke away from the normal route and climbed steeply on the left. A 15-minute ascent led us to a watch tower with interesting view over Brinchang town. Then we reversed back and moved southward, only to find ourselves at the Parit Falls in a short while. The small waterfall had a curled bridge above it, in the middle laid a blue-roofed shelter. Not far away was an open space with carpark, fitness corner and children playground. We penetrated furthur into the jungle but only to lead ourselves into a main road in less than half an hour. We walked shortly to the Tanah Rata and had our lunch at the usual Orient restauran where it was filled with Japanese tourists. After the lunch, we were fate to meet Velo at the town taxi stand and he transported us back to our accommodation again.

In the afternoon, Henry and a driver from Titiwanga Tour picked us up in a coach bus. To my dismay, our afternoon Farm visit tour was delayed much as the bus fetched many tourists at several locations. The bus driver even got his bus struck at the narrow road bend which was straddled fully with cars. Henry firstly brought us to a small strawberry farm along the highway. It reaped the fruit in clean hydroponic method. Next, we made our devotions at the Sam Poh Temple at the outskirt of Brinchang town. Clean in its vicinity, the temple had also maintained its elaborated decorations and golden-plated deity statues solemn and respectful. Then we headed to the Rose Valley, only to be disappointed that the flower display was not brilliant and eye-catching enough. We walked up a small summit behind the rose garden to oversee the mountain range near Brinchang. When we reached Butterfly Garden, Cheng who had considerable insect phobia stayed not long enough before she shunned away from those palm-sized hovering black butterflies. The garden was too pathetically small to arouse any insect lovers to get bewildered. The rain started by then and poured heavily by the time we reached the Bee Farm beside the same fruit and vegetable stalls at the foothill of Gunung Brinchang. The salegirls were enthusiastically selling the honey jam, and allowed us to explore the open area riddled with small wooden huts for bee harvesting. Henry at the last minute informed us that the highlight trip to Boh Tea Estate was cancelled due to festive day. But why did not he tell us beforehand? Overall, I personally believed that I could cut down all the waiting and rushing yet enjoyed much more, if I hailed a cab alone rather than signing up for this commercialized package.

We requested to drop at the Tudor-styled Smokehouse Hotel built as early as 1937 beside which was an absolute red London telephone booth. From here we headed down towards Tanah Rata for dinner, trying to avoid the crowd in Brinchang town. We had been walking for half an hour and more, only to realise that we had underestimate the distance to the town. It rained heavily and we hid inside our windbreakers, casting down our heads. Suddenly, Velo fatefully appeared along the car, signalled us to jump into his car. He was extremely generous to give us a lift to the town with no charge. Fearful of having another stomach problem, we decided to stick to the same Orient restaurant we patronised before. When night drew near, we dialed Velo again to take his cab one last time. By now, Velo was very comfortable with us, so much so that he told his story -- his hardship in his early years to raise his big family, his blissful joy of having several children and grandchildren, and his wish to travel around the world since he was eased off the family burden. His remark I adored most was that he felt he should do good deeds in his limited lifetime. There were moments of unwillingness to depart that night, but we all shared our blessings to each other.

It was our very last night in Cameron Highlands, which we ended it with a feast of strawberries, oranges, and tibits. I had indulged too much on the food that I woke in the middle of the night, suffering slight pain in the stomach. I visited the stool frequently and drank hot water constantly. I certainly did not get a good night sleep, remorsed over the stupid act of gluttony.

Feb 02, 2004

We woke up very early morning to catch the bus which was bringing us back to Singapore. It was another dizzling familiarity to wind through the hilly roads before reaching the highway, Cheng and I simply tried to shut our eyes. As when we thought our adventure was over, another dreadful and shocking event happened. One of the coach drivers accidentally passed away during the highway journey. I would not explain in detail through internet as it might be a disrespect to him. But I really had the up-closed and first hand appreciation that life is very fragile and delicate, and I told myself that make the best out of my life while I could...