Five Minutes road trip
the imfamous book ;o)
the road trip, woo hoo!!
with no plan of action, just a satria (dodgey malaysian car made from recycled tin cans) full of film, clothes and tons of crap junk food, for the long tedious drive ahead, we set off from KL (kuala lumpur), first destination, Ipoh.
45 minutes on the highway, bored shitless already and through most of the cholesterol filled car food bought at the last petrol station, we (myself and the writer, siew ching) , decided to turn off, and get onto the smaller roads.. damn good thinking, if we didn’t, we might be lucky to come back with only 10 portraits.
the first shot was total crap.
it was of a woman cutting fruit in a van to sell in the petrol station.. seemed like a good idea at the time, but then again, so did moving to malaysia ;o)
on we went, ipoh, the city of coffee, apparently, allegedly?
you know as much as I hate starbucks, just seeing that little green mermaid sign, in the distance, is a refreshing sign that civilization is close by. Double expresso, mmmmm heaven.
we have arrived in Ipoh, no starbucks (then), just the local coffee, the famous ipoh coffee, so cant be all bad.
After successfully shooting at least eight shots, we looked for a hotel, budget, well, not much, as we had a lot of traveling eating and drinking to do. Found a not so bad 2-3 star hotel, mmm this is going to be expensive.
One thing I and the writer have in common, we cant stay in some backpacker roach hole, Im not saying im a hotel snob, god if i was, i’d be in the hilton and astro all the way.. im saying, nice quiet rooms, room service of course and the most important… movie chanel. is that really too much to ask?
Morning has arrived, and the hunt is on for a bloody good coffee. When I say coffee, I mean fresh ground beans, lavazza is my fav, but illy comes in a close 2nd. The milk has to be fresh milk, none of this sweetened or flavored shit, I dont take sugar, so cannot!
went into this sort of diner breakfast bar, was nicely set out, clean, and most of all it had a fresh pot of coffee on the stove. I asked the waitress, i want fresh coffee, she said, yes we have, also i want fresh milk, no sugary crap.. do you have, ‘of course sir’ so i asked siew ching to translate just in case.
no problem she replied, one fresh double expresso, with fresh steamed milk on the side.
ah, this wasn’t going to be so difficult after all.
finally the waitress came over with my coffee, and behold, what did i get? i got crap local coffee with sweetened condensed milk..
This isnt going to be that easy after all.
“I don’t do much-my life consists of me going to school, coming home, and playing cricket and hanging out with friends on Saturdays and Sundays. I would like to be a physiotherapist when I get out of school later. My only regret is to enroll in Upper Six. I should have gone to college like the rest of my friends. All I have to do now is hope to pass and see what happens next.”
Mohd Miran, 19, Student
Ipoh, Perak
Penang was our next port of call, must be able to get a coffee there.
I think this was one of the most interesting destinations, not because its busy, but its very multi cultural, first stop was find a hotel to dump all our gear.
so many to choose, but not so many with a the requirements to go with the budget, so we got the grand continental, 3 star, right!
Shooting in penang was easy, so many to choose from, but hell of a lot of walking in some of the hottest weather we experienced, enduring sweat rashes, blisters, and now knowing what backpacking must feel like . we decided to stay for another night. Beer time!
oh, no lavazza, but a cute Italian restaurant sold some very nice Italian coffee ;o)
(insert pic)
“You know, money is only paper. It’s not as useful as everyone says it is. It’s nothing. Even if you have a lot of money, when you are dead you’ll be burned.”
Rajan, 75, Retired
Georgetown, Penang
onto koto baru.
movieeees beginning with…
the drive was very tedious for this, crossing west to east side of the peninsula in pouring rain, i mean pouring as the typical Malaysian downpour where if someone was standing in the middle of the road, you would only realise that you hit something is when your companion would turn and say.. “did you feel something”?
to pass the time, siew ching would start off by saying… ‘mooovies beginning with.. A’ yep, two mature adults with nothing else to do apart from playing stupid games to keep us from falling asleep and away from the 4th packet of cholesterol coated crisps.
movies with cars, movies with aliens with killer sea monsters, vampires, movies where the hero lives, where he dies… bla bla the list went on, what what to do, in a car full of snacks we thought was a good idea at the time.
7 hours later
we finally arrived in koto baru, an islamic state which only means one thing… no beer. shiiiiiiiiiit!
it was late, we were exhausted , we just wanted to eat something that remotely resembled real food and drink a beer.. oops, sorry, wrong state.
we found a very secluded beach resort, didnt look like anyone was home, but the lights were on, so must be. reminds me of a dodgey horror movie, two drivers stumble across a secluded motel where they are the only guests, need I go on.
we got a beach hut with tv of course, washed and straight into the lounge for dinner. not much to offer, but at least i can say i did eat my greens that day. mum would be proud, ahhh good boy.
any chance of a beer i asked the head scarfed waitress, siew ching looks at me in disbelief, worth a try right? “of course, but we cant put it on the menu” hahaha… there is a god, how ironic.
hangover from hell
that’s what happens when you drink beer that’s a few years past it shelf date. I guess i deserved it.
time to go and get coffee, after a unanimous decision we decided to eat breakfast elsewhere, no way would i get my coffee here. we stumbled on a minuscule hotel chain called the renaissance ;o)
if only we stayed here last night? mmm, must of drove past it. damn!
probably the most expensive roti pisang on the planet, thats indian fried bread with banana to my fellow whities, yum, im salavatin just thinking about it.
so, bellies full, time for the bill.. eeks, should we run? well, a slight mis communication with the staff, them thinking i was a guest, should I put it on your bill sir?, tempting. if only they knew where i really did stay.
tangent time.
there are pros and cons about being white in malaysia , the pros, we get great treatment, treatment the normal malaysians wouldnt get, i could walk in to louis vuitton in thai pants and crocs, with no intention to buy anything but still have about 3 staff hovering around me like flies around a cows backside.. where as siew ching, a girl on a hand bag mission and every intention to buy a bag, will just get frowned upon and snubbed.. hence, she walked out and bought it from paris.
so, a message to louis vuitton, your malaysian staff suck.
the cons, we get charged double.
time to work.. oh, and the renaissance coffee wasn’t that great.
“I live in this old house all by myself. It can get quite lonely-my husband passed away 12 years ago and all my four children live very far away. I see them maybe twice a year. When my husband first passed away, I did miss him very much. But you slowly get used to it. I have to move out soon because the owner of this house wants the property back. I have no place to go-luckily my friend has an extra room for me to live in. I’ll just stay there until it’s my turn to go.”
Jeriyah, 76
Kuala Besut, Terengganu
After a few shots in Terengganu we headed towards Cherating, a town of nothing except club med, some dodgey resorts and a very long beach.
we arrived at cherating again after sun down, scouted a few of the beach chalet resorts who wanted to charge a fortune, probably because its late, were desperate and im white, so being proud and pissed off at trying to get conned, we chose the 4 star hotel, i could safely say take off two of the stars and it would sound about right. we did have astro though. btw, for those who dont know, astro is the malaysian satalite tv service who still hasn’t mastered how to stop the signal from cutting out when it rains, which is normally every 4pm.
so went to the local shack, had a few beers, watched some whities play pool and the highlight of the evening was a cat coming in, looking sweet at the tourists and get fed.. cute!
“I was the first woman to start this village. My late husband and I arrived here to start a family and a place to call home. Together, we chopped down the trees, build houses, grew vegetables and started our family in this village. Today, eight of my nine children still live here in their own houses. I am glad that they are all still living near me.”
Som Bte Awang Mat, 65
Kampung Jaya Gadin, Pahang
The next port of call, Mersing, a small town with not much going on except ferries, loads of them.
really we should try and reach a main town in the day, at least we would have a choice of hotels. I think the range was, dodgey, dodgier and dodgiest, we chose dodgey with very friendly staff who were so nice they opened up the kitchen for us, and shared their knowledge of where to find the local prostitutes.
we were on a mission
That was the magic word, prostitutes, time to hit the streets, pardon the pun.. lets go…
we were told of one hotel, should I mention the name… naaaa, dont want to give them free advertising.
It was in the centre of town, a very run down building, I think i would class this the dodgey of dodgiest of hotels.
Armed with camera and asian, we pretended to want a room for the night, but wanted to see it first. Apparently, the 4th floor was the secret floor, the floor to chose who you wanted for the night, the floor to decide whether you wanted, Hep A or B, HIV, Herpes or syphilis.
Damn, couldnt even get past the front door, all we wanted to do is see the rooms, see if they were suitable for our needs, but nooooo ah, no chance ah, cannot ah (in a strong chinese accent), think my tripod gave it away, or maybe I should of just tried and gone in alone, ‘but the trip isnt finished, what if I went missing, even worse, what if siew ching had to navigate her way back to KL?
we didn’t get our prostitute.
Having a vague memory of what coffee used to taste like and exhausting, Movieees beginning with? we finally hit Johor baru, the gateway to singapore, or should I say, the huge petrol station disguised as a town.
This is where the Singaporian’s make the short drive over the bridge to fill up their cars and drive straight back again, smart!
This is also the town where a ‘barber’ doesn’t exist, you can walk for miles down the over populated streets, and all you can see are wall to wall barber shops, strange yes, but. whats even more strange, if you want to go for a trim, you are more likely to get a different kind of trim, if you know what I mean?
Unlimited times I tried to get a cut, but my Asian side kick had to wait outside. I guess its not just petrol the Singaporians come over for, they also come for a hair cut.
Im sure there must be a starbucks here, but we wanted to escape pronto.. suffered the local tar again.
(insert image)
“I never went to school. All my life I helped my grandfather and father with this business, which first started as a food business then changed to carpeting because of the Europeans who came to Malaysia in the 1960s. That’s how I learnt to speak English-from the people who come into the store. The thing that makes me the happiest is cooking and then eating it. I love food, all sorts.”
Jericho Kee, 58, Carpet shop owner
Johor Bahru, Johor
Detour to Kukup
We decided to take a small detour to a fishing village called Kukup, to find it all you have to do is drive to the lowest point of malaysia and the road stops there.
luckily when we arrived we met the local unemployed mad man, he offered his services as our tour guide, for a small fee of course, so Why not, why not indeed.
He didnt really say much, actually, i dont even think he said anything at all, a blessing in disguise I guess, who wants a tour guide to babble a load of usless crap anyway?
Kukup is a quaint costal village, its unbelievable, its a whole wooden village in the sea on stilts, woldnt like to be there during a storm though, and I ciertainly wouldnt want to go for a dip in the sea, considering the plumbing points to one direction. lucky for me, im a vegitarian.
I wont even try to get a coffee.
(insert image)
“I do anything to make a living. I’m no fussy. I have a daughter who has her own family now. Living in a small fishing village like Kukup is just fine. I have nothing to complain about.”
Ang Ah Hua, 60, Odd jobs worker (our tour guide)
Kukup, Johor
Coffee… woo hoo!
Melaka, our final stop before heading home to KL, also the place where Im guaranteed decent coffee, finally.
Again arriving late at night, and after scouting a few hotels, we decided to stay in the continental…
I love this town, it has everything including a red painted church, compliments of the dutch and I guess the brits, but who is to blame for the paint job, i guess you will have to google.
We managed to shoot alot of portraits here, we even bumped into malaka’s local mad man, seems like I attract them somehow.
An early start with breakfast in renaissance, as its our last day, why not treat ourselves, sushi and decent coffee, well, almost decent, we even had one of the queens pay her respects, well, she brushed passed with her entourage of hangers on.
Ah… that explains for the lack of traffic, at times like these you know the malaysian tax payers money is well spent, could you imagine a royal, politician or datuk sitting in a jam? I think not.
jam, what jam?
This is why the Malaysian traffic system is like it is, everytime the transport minister has to pop down the road for a packet of cigarettes, he has at least 8 police bikes clearing the path, a bit like watching the ten commandments when moses parts the red sea. Jam, what jam, theres no jam in KL.
“I live alone in this city. My kids are all married and have their own lives, their own families. I live with a friend who helps look after me. I don’t want to trouble my children to look after me. I’m happy enough.”
Ah Moi, 60
Melaka
did you get the bunny?
The journey back to kuala lumpur was a quiet one, i guess for both of us we didnt want the road trip to end.
I remember when I used to shoot catwalk, one of my photographer friends had just came back from the gulf war, he was telling me stories which I guess not many people could imagine, but now its fashion season, he has to cover that.
during one of the shows, one of the models walked down the catwalk carrying a real live bunny. At the end of the show, his fashion editor from a reputable british rag came running up to him and shouted with excitement, ‘did you get the bunny, did you get the bunny” he turned and looked at me, paul, Ive been photographing a war for the past 3 months, and all she can say is did you get the fucking bunny?
I guess what im trying to say is that during our road trip we had no agenda, we wasn’t sure what was around the next corner, but if we had the money we would have gladly just turned around and do it all again.
Comments are closed.