We made it along the entire east coast of Malaysia! But at what cost? My gooch is red, my bum is sore, my legs are numb, and my body is in pain. The people and scenery has made all of it worth it and one day I will return to visit Pulau Bidong - the island where my dad, uncles and grandpa lived as refugees.
MalaysiaBlog start: Kuala Terengganu, Terengganu
Blog end: Kupang, Perak
Days in this blog: Day 18 - 25
We made it to Kota Bharu, a city known for its culture and arts! For us it is a major milestone of cycling the length of the east coast and close enough to see the Malay/Thai border. Our entire trip we were excited to head up this way to visit Airi (Fendi's sister and Tasha's cousin) and her partner Axel! Since Kuala Terengganu, I (Huy) have been living for the rest days and because I'm a smart boy, a prodigy, or wizard some have said, I learnt that if you cycle faster and longer, lean into the pain, you reach your desired destination faster. I came up with this Michel Angelo level equation where, (speed*cycling duration)+increased levels of pain=less time between rest days. So to the best of my abilities I continued to race up the coast, along side Tash, who had been affected by womanhoodly symptoms, and was still faster then me!
Before we begin I shall go on a little rambling of my family's relation to Malaysia and a bit of history you may be interested in. If you wish to skip forward to the next section, know that I am as disappointed in you, as my parents are with my life choices. So many of you may know of a little thing call the Vietnam War. I could dive very deep into the history but let me keep it short. The Vietnam war started in 1955 and ended in 1975. It was after the Vietnam war when many things were still happening in South East Asia. In Cambodia, the Khmer Rouge had successfully defeated Khmer Republic when the US withdrew their support, and Pol Pot came into power. One of the many atrocities crimes he committed when in power was the genocide of Vietnamese ethic minorities and crs border raids into Vietnam with the ambition of taking territories. In 1978 the Vietnamese government believed they could no longer co-exist with Cambodia and launched a full scale invasion that led to the occupation of Cambodia. In 1979, China also decided to invade Vietnam in retaliation to Vietnam invading Cambodia; this is called the Sino-Vietnamese war.
Since the beginning of all these wars the Vietnamese government was conscripting male civilians at the at of 18 into the army. With the economic collapse, persecution, repression of the southerners after the Vietnam war, and the risk of conscription, Grandpa decided to take the children and flee. In 1980, my dad became one of the boat people - his boat headed down to Malaysia, to Pulau Bidong. He joined the many other Vietnamese who fled there since 1978. At it's peak it hosted 40,000 refugees in camp designed to host 4,500. Hundreds of thousands Vietnamese didn't make it to safety due to extreme weather, pirates, and starvation. In 1991, the camp was closed and the remaining Vietnamese against their wishes were repatriated back into Vietnam. Today the island is open to visitors although access is restricted to protect the environment and history of the camp.
Some spent many years on the island waiting to be resettled like my dad's friend who spent two years waiting to enter Australia. He once told me a story that he built a small raft with my uncle's to go fishing due to food scarcity on the island.
We contacted some people and were able to find transport over to the island. The only problem was it is quiet expensive for two of us who are travelling on a small budget. I hope to go to the island one day with my dad so he can show me what it was like on the ground. Otherwise on this day we only had the chance to view the island from the opposite shore. During the same afternoon we also stopped by a lovely little beach cafe that we reached crossing a sandy beach. The bicycles were tough to push through sand, but we had to power on as our little side road had led to a dead end. As a reward we had pizza, tasty refreshers (drinks), and I got to sleep on a beach hammock while Tasha called people back home.
Next, I will tell you of the day we met Axel. It was the day after we had wild camped next to the beach. You may want to know that when you wild camp by the east coast in Malaysia, you end up with curious cats by your tent flaps - this night was no different. It was a restless sleep being alert all night as I thought our bikes were being moved, only to be awakened by cats! Tash on the other hand slept comfortably with eye mask and ear plugs.
So the day we were cycling into Kota Bharu I was severely sleepy deprived and low in spirit. It wasn't until Tash told me Airi partner was going to cycle down half way to meet us, did I understand who this man truly was. I asked her but who in there right mind would cycle miles down in the heat just to circle back home? I knew then this man was a true cyclist! A man in love with the life on two wheels. And then she told me of his name, Axel! Did I hear that right?! A name of a hero you would find in fantasy books - the strong and gentle warrior. When we first crossed paths on opposite sides of the busy gravel road, I saw him, the lone rider, shirt blowing in the coastal breeze - Axel. This man of caramel brown skin, a Saudi Arabian, the first I have ever met. Gentle in speech, kind of heart, and as we soon found out, a generous heart - he was like the books after all. We shook hands and that's all it took, the birth of a new friendship. We cycled onward toward his home but as usual it was midday and far too hot to continue any further without risk of overheating ourselves. So we stop by beach and under the shade we got to know each other, we ate, and eventually I fell asleep on the stone bench, under the palms. When I awoke we continued on towards Axel and Airi's house through back roads to avoid traffic. Axel had taken my panniers so I was able to ride a bit faster.
Upon arriving at the house we were met with Airi and their sweet little dog, Butters. We spent a couple of days here resting from our long rides and bad sleep from the previous nights. Airi and Axel brought us to different places to eat around the city of Kota Bharu. It was the first time we had entered a car since starting our trip. We were able to witness the chaos of driving in Malaysia from inside a vehicle rather then outside on our bikes. It was also the first time I was really impressed with the food in Malaysia. I feel like coming up the East Coast, there was nothing that really blasted my taste buds with that good food, or allowed me to enter that state of extradimensional food coma bliss! But here in this city it was beginning to circulate the loins of my tongue. Huh.
We were also able to catch up with our friends we met in Kuala Terengganu, Anisa and Joe. Although they had a busy schedule the day we caught up, they happily showed us around Kota Bharu and we ventured to some food spots, an open market, and heritage buildings. They had been recommending us to go to an Italian pizza joint when we got here but were unable to join us so we brought Axel and Airi along instead. 10/10 best Italian pizza we had in Malaysia so far. During these restful days we also fixed our bikes as Tash had gear changing issues and I had some brake rubbing issues. I hasn't realise it but my brake had been rubbing for sometime and making each pedal that much harder. We also noticed my front wheel was wobbling from side to side but for that we needed a true mechanical expert - a story for another time.
The day we left Airi and Axel decided to join us to our next destination to camp with us just before the mountain ride at Gunung Reng. So three of us took off and left our bags at home for Airi to take later in the day with the car. Boy oh boy, did we fly that day. I didn't realise just how much our bags were weighing us down. Maybe it was the fully healed legs, realigned disk brake, and a renewed faith in Malaysian cuisine, but 120km didn't feel so hard that day. I still did feel pain in my elbow, upper back and wrist at the end of the day but again, a story for another time.
The next day we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways - Axel rode all the way back home. We continued our ride up the gruelling path of Belum National Park, our first big climb in Malaysia. After doing 120km the previous day and now with a fully packed bike, I was not ready for what was up head. We rode up that constant incline on mostly unshaded road, with constant big trucks and cars zooming pass our slow bum cheeks. With every stroke of the pedal my brain spoke to me, tears in every lobe, this trip was a mistake, I am not strong enough. It was then we ran into park rangers installing a sign warning drivers of elephants. We were told they often cross the roads up here and recently a baby elephant was run over a few metres from the sign, the mother had stayed by its side for hours, mourning the loss of her child. After a short interview with them they had ended with, "just a warning there has also been two recent fatal tiger attacks on humans along this road, but they usually only come out at dusk." We had made it about 20kms up at this point and still had many more to go before reaching our safety point - a restaurant at the top of the mountain where we would also ask to camp.
It was getting later and at our speed I knew it was a big possibility we weren't going to make it. With my new found adrenaline rush from fear of fatal tiger attack, I put all energy into my legs, ears and eyes. Like a meth addict, I was tweaking, looking side to side at the bushes, surrounded by bushes, bushes bloody everywhere, who knows where a tiger could leap from. It has had a taste of human and now it knows, it's know how delicious and easy we are to hunt, slow targets climbing up the hill. Fear drove me to push my body to the limit until it tired out so much that I was just ready to give myself over to the bush, to the tigers. We didn't even make it that far. The choice was made by the two of us, it was time to get off the mountain, and so up came the thumb. It was time to hitchi-dee hike our way to safety and have a solid rest at the bottom of this park. Now it came down to strategy and luck, to choose the right vehicle that could transport us both and the bikes - it had to be a bigger car or truck.
Unfortunately for awhile there only full trucks or small cars that were passing us by. We were exposed to tigers in one spot for too long, I was thinking, in my fear-driven mind. Then our saviours came, two workers in a van transporting motorbikes to Ipoh, south of where we wanted to be in Gerik. I couldn't believe our luck! We squished our bicycles into the back with the motorbikes and proceeded to then squish ourselves in too! Seeing that we were hungry and tired, they took us up the mountain to the restaurant we were attempting to reach to grab a quick bite. It also started to rain quite heavily so I guess we were lucky we decided to hitch a ride when we did. We then proceeded to Gerik where they dropped us off at their friends mechanic shop, where we waited out the rest of the rain.
While we were waiting out the rain and chatting to the workers, we were also trying to find somewhere to rest for two days. We had a warm showers ready to host us, that we organised for two days but we had arrived days earlier with the help of van. We messaged him in hopes that he could take us in but things weren't looking great and it was getting late. Luckily by the time the rain died, Subki (the host), gave us the okay and his address. My legs were dead and it was 15km away, the rain also decided to start up again during the ride multiple times, so we had to seek shelter twice. The second time we waited out the rain was under the cover of a Surau (place of prayer) and as the rain was dying down we decided to leave, a car pulled in. Out came the man of the hour, Subki. In his car and light rain, he led us through his Kampung (village) to his family house, where he lived with his brothers. Passed down from generations he lived here growing up. This was a usual Kampung house made of wood but with concrete upgrade extensions. You could see the history of the house through its interior wooden walls and windows that used to be the exterior. Here we stayed for two days, where Subki cooked us many meals, told us stories of his own experiences bike touring, his love for mountains, and how he was inspired at a younger age seeing foreigners come through his village on their bicycles. He gave us many tips of the area and showed Tash around his village on the bike - he even managed to go "bike-birding". Something I wasn't quite up to yet due to exhausting my legs trying to avoid tigers. He even told us that hungry tigers come down and hunt cattle every now and again due to massive dwindling of wild boar population due to swine flu in 2022.
As we left Subki's Kampung he rode us out to say goodbye before turning back. We took his advice and took the quieter road up to Baling to Kupang where we would find rest. With all the days spent healing and recovering the ride to Kupang was quick and easy with lots of beautiful downhill. We arrived early to our destination once again and rested in accommodation until dinner. Subki had recommended to eat at his friend's place in town and so we did just that. It had been a minute since I had the chance to chow down on a burger so I decided it was time. We told Subki that we had arrived and his friend, Afifi, came out to meet us! He told us stories of his travels through Central Asia, and of the generous people he met there, which has made us even more excited to ride through those countries. As we were chatting with our new friend, Subki messaged us and said he was in the area and would stop by to give us our hand fan we left behind! An important tool to have while traveling through the heat of Malaysia. We spent the night talking and as a parting gift, Afifi, gave us homemade croissant and a drink to bring back to our accommodation. The next morning Afifi picked us up and brought us to a local road side restaurant that served Pek Nga, where we again met with Subki to say our last goodbyes.
So far in Malaysia, every person we've met whether it be stopped by a traffic light, riding along side us with their motorbikes, while at a mosque refilling our bottles, while finding a place to camp or eat, have been incredibly kind and seem to genuinely want the best for us. There's a warm feeling about this country and I feel very welcomed here. There was a day where we were stopped by a small fruit stall along the side of the road. The man there said, to us, "it doesn't matter where you are from, as long as you have a pure heart." What he said there has stuck with me and that's how I feel about the people of Malaysia - all pure of heart.
Lots of love, Huy and Tash
(This journal was handwritten and not aided by AI)
