We had been in Kuala Lumpur (KL) for barely a week when we checked out of the hotel to head to a new destination. It was my birthday, and I longed to spend it in nature, so we set off to the Seremban Nature Reserve, just south of the city.
We booked a Grab taxi after a questionable breakfast at the hotel cafe of gluey, fried cabbage and carrots followed by a chewy, sweet, fried rice flour dessert.
With an hour-and-a-half ride ahead of us, we expected a wait before our ride was accepted. To our surprise, a driver named Kumar was on his way within minutes.
Kumar is an older man of half Indian half Malay heritage, wonderfully friendly and chatty – but not too much. After his wife had passed and his sons had grown up – one an engineer who studied in London for a year (Kumar had visited and loved the pubs!), the other a pilot), he had signed up as a Grab driver to give him some purpose and get the chance to share stories along the way.
We learned that he had spent thirty-eight years in the oil industry in Dungun, Kuala Terengganu (on the east coast), and used with his colleagues to visit a nearby beach town for nightlife as Dungun is more strictly Islamic.
Kumar shared a wealth of facts and stories and even offered to take us to dinner if we ever returned to KL. We chatted about food; the Batu Caves; Manchester United; his religion Brahma Kumaris (I asked about a symbol in his car); and Malay favourite sports (football and badminton). He also told us some interesting facts about the history of Malaysia – from the British rule leading to Indians in Malaysia (rubber plantations), to why the Chinese population had first arrived (tin mining). He mentioned that a divide is beginning to appear between the different ethnicities of Malaysia, with debates about “who was here first”. Until recently, he said, Malaysians of all backgrounds had lived together peacefully.
As we neared our accommodation the road became a single, winding, mud and rocky track. We could see only the forest and the odd other resort – no town, shops or even other people.
Once inside the resort, we were guided to our room, which turned out to be a spacious one-room villa with a bed, dining area and kitchen. Sliding glass doors opened onto a balcony which faced the multitude of greens within the rainforest. The lady that had welcomed us immediately disappeared and we were left to settle in.
A short wander from the villa was the infinity pool – a serene place for us to enjoy the leafy landscape from a new vantage point. Luckily, we enjoyed the last of the day’s sun in the water, getting out and under cover just before the rain began. We eased into wooden, panelled chairs shaped like sun loungers, sheltered from the intermittent rain. Quietly, we observed the changeable skies, delighting in the patterns rippling through the pool as drops pattered on its surface.
Dinner was steamboat-style. We soon had a bubbling pot on the counter, a basket of fresh vegetables and a few mysterious, rubbery items that gave off a fishy scent waiting to be dropped inside (though our host confirmed all was vegan, I decided to give those with the fishy scent a miss).
The steamboat is cooked in a wok-style pan but deeper, with a partition down the middle which essentially creates two pans in one. We boiled the veg, tofu, and noodles, spitting everything equally between the two sides – one being a spicy broth, the other milder.
Soon we had a great feast before us, watching the end of the daylight slip away as we sat at the wooden table. Orange tints filled the corner of our window as the sun sank below the hills, a mixture of mist and fog floating through the valley in the wake of the storm.
The following day was our first full slow day since we’d arrived in Malaysia, which unfortunately, as we hadn’t had the chance to think ahead, was interrupted for a few hours to create a continuity plan for the next few days of our trip. I struggled to focus as my mind and body had not yet begun to unwind from the accumulated stress of the past few years.
Otherwise, the day was filled with slowness, sleep, yoga, food (though less of that than we’d have liked as no lunch was included and there was nowhere to buy any!) and relaxation. There were so many sounds emanating from the rainforest which I didn’t recognise, unsure if they came from birds or insects. Sitting on our balcony I felt almost within the forest, my mind lightening as I breathed in the warm, humid air and listened to the rhythmic clicks, buzzes and chirps rising from the jungle.
On Saturday morning we were on our way. As we had work on Monday we wanted to ensure we reached a new destination in good time and could organise ourselves and an internet connection before the week began. After much deliberation we’d settled on Georgetown, Penang as our next destination. We’d originally been planning to head up the east coast of the peninsula but had struggled to find any accommodation. As there was a national holiday on Monday we assumed it was because of that, so eventually, we settled on heading to the northwest.
We spent a couple of hours waiting in the small bus station in Seremban and had the opportunity for a great people-watch session at the cafe we sat at. A couple of different families with children; an old man sitting behind Miki eating pieces of meat from a skewer and supping a milky tea before moving off; a solo man (closer to our age) with a great backpack – deep pink and patterned; another man passing with a wonderfully long and pointed beard. There were so many different characters in that small space, everyone going about their business, stopping for sustenance along the way to their destination.
When I went to the toilet I was treated to a giggle (hopefully of delight) by the lady sitting at the entrance taking the toilet fee. It appeared she’d been taken quite by surprise to look up and see a white woman walking towards her!
We ordered food which turned into a bit of a disaster. Despite requesting no fish and no meat, we were brought a plate that included both fish and chicken. On telling the waiter that wasn’t what we’d ordered, we watched as the dishes were taken back to the open kitchen (the cafe preparation area was visible, enclosed by U-shaped walls) and a man dutifully began to pick out the bits of animal from our plates! This was a little too much for me so we decided to move on to the place next door which was buffet style, hoping we may have more luck there (which we did – just).
After an uneventful 2-hour bus journey back to Kuala Lumpur, we had another wait in the largest bus station in the capital before boarding the bus that would get us to Penang before the end of the day. Or so we thought. As we waited at the gate for our 5:30 pm bus and watched the clock hands tick past 5:30 pm, we stood in an increasing level of confusion and growing anxiety. After asking several other waiting passengers we were lucky to find a woman who spoke English, and discovered that the bus was late – we hadn’t missed it and were at the correct gate. Our relief soon turned to exhaustion, as we endured a 2-hour wait for the coach to arrive. Then, due to Saturday night traffic and road works along the way, the journey took 2 hours longer than expected, having us tiredly leaving the bus at around 2 am the following morning (4 hours later than expected!).
Although the journey had been long, once on the bus we found the seats were very comfortable, and it gave me a wonderful few hours to get lost in the pages of my book. I reflected on how this way of travelling enforced a slow-down mindset and appreciated that, after years of running on an intense schedule, these long hours of quiet were exactly what I had needed to help my body unwind.
