Malaya

Palm oil plantations stretched as far as the eye could see as the plane came into land at Kuala Lumpur - although there was a worrying lack of city visible anywhere close. With my Song Kran antics catching up with me I dozed for most of the flight and bus ride into the city, only waking when I was surrounded by huge tower blocks and immaculately manicured gardens, both public and private.

In KL I met Pekwor, a friend from home who was coming out for a well deserved holiday, who had already checked into an upmarket backpacker place (also known as "flashpacking") in Bukit Bintang, east of the city centre. We went out for a wander around - I was taken aback by the wide roads, clean pavements, abundance of traffic lights (that people actually paid attention to) and lack of mopeds - it gave the impression of being a very modern city. Alongside this were the hoards of street stalls selling everything under the sun - as long as it was fake.

The next day we made a whistle stop city tour - first to the Petronas Towers to visit the Skybridge. The Petronas Towers are the tallest twin skyscrapers in the world, and the Skybridge sits at the 41st floor linking the two. It was an impressive view but still a little underwhelming when you considered you were only half the height up the tower. After a walk around Chinatown, the old Colonial Centre and Little India, and searching for cheap electronics goods (not so cheap - use Amazon!) we were grateful for the airconditioned calm of KL's various city railways, monorails and metro - although by 6pm the crush was as bad as rush hour anywhere.

Malaysia - independent since 1957, was formerly an array of different states run by the British. Pensinsular Malaysia was known as Malaya and divided into several states; while on Borneo the state of Sarawak was controlled by the English "White Rajahs" of the Brooke family, and the state of Sabah was known as British North Borneo, and was controlled by a British company of the same name. Also included in the Federated States of Malaysia intially was Singapore, until it pulled out of the Malaysian federation after a couple of years.

Peninsular Malaysia has seen a huge change in population since colonial times. Initially claimed by the Dutch, the British took over gradually after the Napoleonic wars (not claiming all of Malaya until 1914) and, predictably, started doing things the colonial way. This started with a huge influx of Chinese immigrants, many who were involved in tin mining - by 1891 they comprised 41% of the population, ahead of the Malays (around 33%) and the 22% of Indians, most of whom had been imported by indentured labourers by the British.

Because of this population mix it is possible to eat fabulous Malay, Chinese and Indian food in most towns that you visit. The following day we headed up to the Cameron Highlands, the 6 hour bus journey ending in a winding ascent along a narrow mountainside road. A former British hill station lying at 1600m, the Cameron Highlands' cooler climate allows a huge range of vegetables, strawberrys and roses to thrive, as well as tea plantations - the area is home to the largest plantation in South East Asia.

After checking into a small, friendly inn, Pekwor and I hired a moped to visit the surrounding locale. We weren't so enthusiastic to see the local "Orang Asli" village - the local tribe who all had Sky TV and broadband access - but were keen on having a look around the tea plantations and trying the scones for which the area is famous.

As it turned out, our base in the town of Tanah Rata had a number of excellent Indian restaurants (eating Indian for breakfast, lunch and dinner was no problem for me) and our own little inn had scones that were by far and away the best I have ever tasted.

We saw rose gardens, strawberry gardens, a bee farm, a butterfly farm and an insect village - all of which paled in comparison to the tea plantations. Driving up on our little moped we explored small winding valleys blanketed either side by incredibly verdant, well kept tea bushes, stretching out for miles around us. The colours were beyond any kind of green you see back home, and I never tired of taking picture after picture.

On the second day we headed up Gudung Brinchang - the highest mountain around at some 2000m - the views from the tower on top were impressive but it failed to match the spectacle of the tea plantations. After some more exploring (and wrong turns) we found ourselves in the middle of a vegetable farm where cabbages were being shipped off in neat blue Tesco boxes - an unwelcome reminder of home.

We stopped to take some photos of tea pickers at work across the valley; their foreman, a chap called Ujul from Sri Lanka, called us over, posed for photos and showed us what they were doing. Tea bushes look almost like privet hedges were being trimmed with modified shears - plastic boxes bolted onto the blade to collect the leaves, which were then thrown into a basket on the back. It proved to be far more difficult than it looked, especially on a 30 degree slope under a baking sun.

The following day, armed with take away scones and lots of water, we took a bus across to the east coast of Malaysia where we were heading for the Perhentian Islands. The islands are now firmly established as a must-visit on the backpacker route, with their warm water, palm-fringed beaches and excellent diving and snorkelling. We had booked into the small resort of Petani Beach - 5 beachfront chalets on a private stretch of sand - and were not disappointed.

Despite the basic nature of the chalets - no electricity in the day, no air con, no hot water - we had a fabulous time snorkelling, kayaking and eating the delicious food cooked up to order each meal. The water was very warm, and within minutes of getting in we saw a black tip reef shark, just metres from the beach. We also saw green turtles and more clownfish - a la Nemo - than could be counted.

In the evenings the small group of guests would gather together and have the special of the day for dinner - usually fish or seafood that had been caught that day. We made friends with PJ and Sophia, a Scandinavian couple, as well as Raymond and Martina, who we had bumped into in the Cameron Highlands, then would play Yahtzee and watch the lightning flashes from storms as they rolled their way up the mainland coast.

Our 4 days there finshed all too quicky, and we headed back to Kota Bharu from where Pekwor would start an unenviable 24 hour trip home. After a very quick and efficient transfer I left Pekwor at Kota Bharu airport, whilst I checked into a small Chinese run hostel and got my mounting pile of laundry in for the steam-cleaning it deserved.

The following day I took a stroll around Kota Bharu; apart from the local "cultural show" with exhibitions of local traditional music and martial arts, there was an interesting museum covering World War Two and the subsequent Malaya Emergency and independence.

Most people think that the Japanese entry into the Second World War was at Pearl Harbour; in fact, just a couple of hours earlier the Japanese began their invasion of Malaya close to Kota Bahru. The British defence of the pensinular was unspectacular to say the least; the Prince of Wales and Repulse were sunk in a move to counterattack the Japanese fleet, and a rapid retreat southwards ensured a scorched earth policy. Britain's bastion of South East Asia, Singapore, fell after a 2 week siege.

After the war ended, plans were drawn up with the eventual aim of independence of Malaya, and in 1948 the Federated States of Malaysia first came into being. Around the same time Malay nationalism was crystallising some of it's ideas - citizenship rules in the new Federated states meant that 78% of people allowed to vote were Malays - but the Chinese Malay population felt ignored and, under the banner of Communism an armed rebellion broke out.

The Malayan Communist Emergency, so called apparently because the economy was not covered by insurance against war, began badly for the British who were taken by surprise; in 1951 the High Commissioner was assassinated. It was not until 1953 that the communists were on the retreat, and by 1960 the Emergency was declared over. Some communists continued to fight, retreating into the jungle along the Thai-Malay border - in relatively recent times they have surrendered on being granted amnesty.

It was to the jungle where I was heading next - to Taman Negara National Park, pensinsular Malaysia's best and largest park. To get there I caught the slow, meandering "jungle train" - a service that makes it's way from Kota Bharu south through the jungle interior of the country stopping at small communities enroute. After a full day of travel on the hot and airless train, with short breaks for air standing by the wedged-open doors, I arrived in Jerantut, the jumping off point for the park.

The following morning I sped upriver to the park HQ, set on a river on the southern side of the park. After installing myself in a friendly but overly basic dorm I went exploring. My first stop was a hill a couple of miles from the HQ; by the time I reached the top I was sweating buckets, and was relieved to find a quiet spot on a river for a swim on the way back.

Being one for foolhardy adventure, the next day I was departed on an overnight trip to the northern end of the park with a French couple. The Park boasts elephants and tigers among it's occupants, but sightings are very rare, especially around the busy HQ area. As we set off with our 15 year old guides, within a few minutes we came across elephant footprints on the trail, but sadly never more than that.

In fact, apart from the vicious and neverending leeches, we didn't see much wildlife. We sweated our way to our camp - a vast limestone cave, the size of a cathedral, where after a bath in a nearby stream we tried to dry our soaking clothes whilst listening for elephants, tigers, monkeys... anything.

The following day was similar - very hot, lots of leeches, not a lot of wildlife. We reached the main river by midafternoon and all of us, guides included, swam in the muddy water until our boat arrived to pick us up. There was an almost obligatory stop at an Orang Asli village on the way back - although lacking SkyTV and broadband, they had seen enough tourists on a daily basis to turn the village into a human zoo which I found uneasy and disquieting.

Back at my hostel I met up with a nice group of Brits, and the following morning I joined them on the canopy walkway, a series of rope bridges suspended high in the rainforest canopy that was truly spectacular. Again, there was no wildlife, but the views down were enough to make it worthwhile and I had to run to catch my boat back to Jerantut, from where I was taking a sleeper train back to KL for the next (unplanned) leg of my trip.

Leaving Koh Lanta

It's mid-April on Koh Lanta, and almost time to move on. The rainy season is drawing nearer, with afternoon storms becoming more regular and ferocious - only the temperature fails to realise it should be dropping. Yesterday was the best thunderstorm yet - as the lightning split the sky above my bungalow, the thunder crashed down and rain fell torrentially for an hour, taking half the beach with it and flooding a few roads.



I've now spent nearly 3 weeks on Koh Lanta as vet-in-residence at Time for Lime, and have managed to operate on a few animals, treat some more, confiscate a couple of ill treated ones, and looked after a baby kitten in my bungalow (currently doing a good job of climbing on the laptop keyboard). For those of a veterinary bent, read on..... otherwise skip to the next paragraph!




One cat I operated on was a resident at a high class resort further up my beach. It had 3 "tumours" on it's left side, which on closer inspection were hernias - probably from a dog bite. With a bare minimum of equipment, I guesstimated a dose of xylazine/ketamine to knock the cat out and proceeded to close up the holes - although not until I had replaced a liver lobe coming out of one hernia, and most of the mesentry (both well adhered) through another. Not something to be recommended when using an NHS single use suture kit!! I have also operated on one of the Time for Lime dogs - a painful lump on the right ribcage needed investigating. I considered rib fractures and sequestra, but dismissed the idea of a bone coming from the dog's intestines..... until I removed a 3 inch long, barbed Barracuda bone which can only have made a sharp exit via the stomach.

The high season here is grinding slowly to a halt as the tourists wither away, leaving behind empty beachfront bars and boarded up massage parlours. There is still some life in Saladan, the main town, though. Saladan is a fairly typical tourist town in Thailand, rapidly on it's way to becoming overdeveloped and losing it's charm. Travel agents and dive shops are on almost every corner, as well as an improbable number of opticians.

The opticians in Saladan are a breed apart. They only emerge from their empty shops wearing suits and sporting umbrellas (for the sun), usually to visit 7-11 and impress people with the amount of cash they have. With names like SK Optic, KT Optic and ST Optic (there are 7 in total) it's a bit difficult to tell one deserted shop from another - all specialise in cheap "genuine" frames and 2 for 1 offers. Some cynics have suggested this may be a particularly comical money laundering operation, although I prefer to imagine that the Thai business model - "if it's nice and shiny then copy it" - is more to blame.



Since arriving I have been renting a little scooter to get around between Saladan, Time for Lime and my various "house" visits. Road rules in Thailand are very flexible; driving is usually on the left side, although this does not count if you like the other side of the road better. As a scooter driver you have no rights of way whatsoever, and the onus is upon you to avoid the 4x4 doing a U-turn immediately in front of you with no warning. This happened 2 weeks ago to one of the bar girls at Time for Lime - she currently has an externally fixated tibia and her jaw wired back together. As a farang, or foreigner, the loose interpretation of the law becomes more problematic if you have an accident. If a farang is involved in a crash it is always their fault, no matter who is to blame - the reason being that if you were back in your own country in the first place the crash would not have happened.



A week or so ago I had the not-to-be-repeated experience of a tuk tuk ride with a charming and funny Thai guy called Ivory, accompanied by 2 English girls who were also staying at Time for Lime. After hopping onto his tuk tuk - think of a moped with sidecar built by a Blue Peter-inspired child - we proceeded along at a stately 12mph (with no lights) to a nearby bar, as Ivory regaled us with his plans to open a restaurant. He even went so far to specify discounts for ourselves and future families - although we struggled to decide on whether the discount applied only if we had 3 babies or if it was free for babies. Throughout our journey he kept only minimal eye contact with the road - although at 12mph we figured that injuries would be limited. It was with a sigh of relief that we made it in one piece to the bar, although a slightly sinking feeling followed as he informed us that he would wait for us all night.



Our return journey was even slower (about 8 mph)- perhaps a good thing as it appeared he hadn't seen the signs advising against drink-driving. In the process he gave us an indepth opinion of the British royal family.
"Thai people, we like Princess Diana one hundred percent," he cried gleefully.
"That's great Ivory, would you mind just looking at the road?" was my short reply.
"Thai people, we love Prince William too, one hundred percent!"
"That's amazing Ivory! I didn't realise you could get the Daily Mail in Thailand?" I replied.
"Yes yes yes! And Prince Charles, we like him not so much.... maybe eighty percent!" he shouted.
This coming from a man who lives in a country where the King is revered like no-one else - Charles was damned by faint praise. But there was worse to come.
"And that woman, who that woman, we no like that woman!" he laughed.
"Who's that Ivory...... Oh, Camilla Parker-Bowles?!" we asked.
"YES!!" he shrieked, and almost fell off the bike cackling loudly.


To help out whilst Bim, the injured waitress, gets better, I've been doing some bar and waiter work at Time for Lime. My mojito-making skills have picked up considerably, as has my ability to give opinions on dishes that I've never tasted. The restaurant here is Thai fusion, and delicious it is too. It is not, however, what typical Thai people eat. The other night as the last customers departed I strolled into the kitchen to get some food, and asked Mai, the Thai girl who does front of house, what I could have. She held up a bowl.
"This very nice. What Thai people eat." She beamed at me.
"That sounds interesting Mai - what is it?" I asked.
"Stir fried chicken insides," she replied, still smiling away.
I skipped on the giblets and stayed with the green curry.

Mai has also been very handy in translating for me (and almost everyone else). She has helped when I went to pick up cats and dogs, when I put an order in at the kitchen and no-one understands me, and when I get text messages in Thai on my new mobile. Often I'll ask her to translate what turn out to be the usual texts you get - I'm getting low on balance, there's a call promotion on, or - my own personal favourite - text this number and we'll send you a photo of a ghost. I kid you not.

Working at Time for Lime has given me a great excuse to meet more people and get to know the menagerie of animals that Junie, the owner, has collected. Along with 20 dogs and 6 cats (not including my kitten and 2 confiscated dogs today!) there is also Joey, the monkey. I'd love to tell you what kind of monkey he is but I'll just describe his character - he's a a bad tempered teenager. In the past he's has his canines removed (particularly barbaric) and then been dumped as he got bigger, older and developed attitude. Now Joey likes swimming, trying to drown dogs whilst swimming (it's long story), playing with knives, biting fingers and pinching nipples. Today he seemed desperate to climb up the inside of my board shorts - given his penchant for inflicting pain I thought better of it.


Joey goes under the knife

With the end of high season also comes the end of regular dive trips, due to lack of tourists and bigger swells. After I managed to finish my Advance Open Water certificate I went on one more dive out to Hin Deung, the furthest dive site from Koh Lanta. Hin Deung has a reputation for strong currents and large fish - in the past few days whale sharks and manta rays had been seen - both come in usually at least 6-7 metres long. There was also a rumour that a reef shark had been found dead with a couple of foot-wide bites taken out of it, raising the possibility of a tiger shark - very unusual in these waters.


Passing Koh Haa on the way back

The journey out to Hin Deung was one of anticipation, and on the first dive we planned to go 38m deep (the limit for recreational diving is 40m) to have a look for sharks. Sadly we saw little, and battled for a while against some very strong currents. The second dive was better as we encountered an enormous barracuda, but no mantas or whale sharks. As we headed back to Koh Lanta the swell had picked up considerably and we were heading directly into a strong wind. The boat was rocking all over the place as waves broke over the bow - and afterwards I found out that another bilge pump had to be set up after the first one became unable to cope with the amount of water we were taking on board. I sat in silence, mostly feeling pretty nauseous but admiring the beautiful sunset as night fell - it took us nearly twice as long to get back.



Having exhausted all the dive sites around Lanta I tried another discipline, Free Diving. Free Diving has several different forms - the one most people know involved descending on a weighted sled to an incredible depth whilst holding your breath, the using a float to take you back to the surface. Needless to say, this "No Limits" form is particularly dangerous and only suitable for crazy folk. On my course, we would try 4 different types - static apnea (holding your breath underwater), dynamic apena (swimming horizontally underwater), free immersion (descending and ascending by pulling yourself down a line) and constant weight (swimming down a line with fins).

The course started with a morning of physics, physiology and breathing exercises. It was amazing how long you could hold your breath after a little practice, but what I found most astounding is that you can make yourself black out by voluntary breath holding. Not that that would be a problem for me! In the sea that afternoon I managed a 3min20sec breath hold, and swam 40m underwater - the world records are around 10min and 240m respectively.

Over the next few days we went out to Koh Haa to try the free immersion and constant weight. The constant weight discipline relies heavily on having good technique to descend - something I struggled with. On the second day I managed to get to 23m and wouldn't have felt comfortable going much deeper. I also managed 26.7m deep on the free immersion (pulling yourself down a weighted line) - I got to the end of the line and had to return to the surface, gutted because I could have gone deeper. The fascinating thing is that below 20m the body becomes negatively buoyant because the air volume in the body is so compressed - so you just sink. If you're particularly relaxed and well trained you can sink to 130m or so and still come up breathing... although maybe a little blue. At any rate, hopefully it will make a real difference when I am snorkelling and want to have a closer look!



The 12th and 13th of April saw another clinic at Blue Planet Divers in Saladan, in conjunction with a Thai vet -Dr Narin - from Trang. The setup was very professional in equipment terms, although the bamboo operating tables were a bit unstable..... We concentrated mainly on cats, and managed to sterilise around 40, as well as doing the honours with Joey and enucleating a prolapsed eyeball in a street dog. By the second afternoon I was by myself with 4 cat spays and 2 cat castrates left, with only a modicum of xylazine and ketamine to knock them out..... as well as the madness of Songkran going on all around.



The 13th of April in Thailand is Songkran - the water festival. Meant to celebrate the end of the dry season and beginning of the new year, the entire of Thailand degenerates into a day long water fight with no quarters safe - riding a moped, eating a meal.... fortunately this did not extend as far as soaking people whilst operating! After finishing and packing up by 6pm I made my way down the main Saladan strip, replete with scrub top, stethoscope and donation box...... I was soaked within about 30 seconds.


The rest of the evening passed in a blur - possibly due to the water getting in my eyes, although the local Chang beer may have had a little to do with it. I made my flight to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia the next day, however, with only the slightest of sore heads.