Monday, July 25th, 2005 4:45 pm

Backdated entries:

Dearest Reader,

In light of the lack of entries over the past couple of months, I will try and make up for it by giving you some of my personal (edited) journal notes for the missing period. I hope that this does not bore you to death and makes up for my tardiness. I will be sure to make sure that it says up to date.

Enjoy...

Sunday, April 03, 2005
Well here it is, the first journal entry using the new laptop. Loaded on the photos and some music and now we are ready to rock.

Spent the extra money on getting the VIP coach from Singapore and did not regret it in the least. Walked on into the air conditioning and was loving it. Twice the room of the Greyhound buses and even cheap ripped off movies. Gotta love it.

Was getting worried that we were not going to stop at Malacca, but sure enough there was a transfer bus waiting for me and the driver got me to jump on it. Arrived in town and jumped in a cab. That cost me 10 ringgits. Three bucks is better than walking around with all this crap - computers and coffee and books. My life is too short for the want of three Aussie dollars. I had also splashed out on getting a single room booked over the internet that cost me about $7AU. I thought I might as well for that price.

My heart sank when I saw the accommodation however. It was a run down old building and they showed me up to the double room. Unimpressive. The people were fairly surly initially as well. The room has a Spanish hacienda motif mural on the walls, four walls, a door, a window to the corridor, two single beds pushed together and an electric fan. On reflection though I cannot complain. The cheapest dorm room that I got in Oz was $12. This place is nothing to look at but hey, what the fuck.

What really boosted my spirits was what followed. I went out to find a feed and some local currency. Found the bank that would accept my card (which even had an English option) then went on the food hunt.

After a couple dead ends, or at least dark alleys that did not seem all that inviting, I got a beverage from a curry house and sat down. Lit a cigarette. An old Chinese bloke asked if there was anyone sitting here, and I said to help himself. He launched into praise of Cathy Freeman as he was a runner some thirty odd years ago. I found him entertaining company, even if his English was a bit hard to follow. He gave me some interesting local knowledge as well. Half of the Malaysian population is non-Malay. Mainly Indian and Chinese who have been around for centuries, however, they are treated as second class citizens. Apparently there is allot of crime around, allot of drugs brought in from Thailand. He pointed to on bloke walking past who is the son of the police chief, a drug pusher yet never gets sent away. He said to watch my back and avoid the dark alleys. My gut instinct was right. I was wondering about the Malaysian Language as I do not speak a word of it or so I thought. It has roman characters which I thought was funny compared to the incomprehensible script of the Thai. He said it was a bastard language. Hello, yes, no, please and thank you are all the same as in English. They spell things differently.

He also recommended the restaurant a couple of doors down that I intended to visit.

I thanked him for the conversation and headed off. As I noticed before the place was packed, which is why it appealed to me. I wandered in. There was one white guy in the place with a black girl. A Chinese girl directed me to an empty table and I sat for a moment wondering what to do. I went up and spoke to the white dude. I said, "Do you speak English by any chance?" He said "Yes, Sprenken zie duetch?", to which I replied "Nine". He said that he thought I was German which I get quite often from the Dutch, as he turned out to be.

I joined them at their table on the grounds that I did not crack onto his girlfriend. They gave me a few restaurant tips - you go up, select what you want from the cold cabinet then stick the sticks of meat, fish and vegetables into the satay sauce on a burner in the middle of the table. Fucking brilliant. Ate myself silly for $14 RM. Have not have any reoccurrence of the stomach trouble either which is a good thing.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Finally cut the last of my dreads off, less painful than I expected but allot of work. It feels strange to have my hair back again. It took a long time to unravel the mass of knots and I am free. It is great to have a decent scratch at last.

Woke up at 9. Earlier than expected. Went to a coffee house on the river and had the Malaysian breakfast, toast beans and eggs with a black coffee.

Went and bought a new shirt off a Indian bloke who scalped me, but that is alright. His son is at Monash University in Melbourne. This turned out to be the more expensive option instead of doing washing. Tomorrow's priority.

Caught a cab to the bus station. Bought a paper and a pack of crisps and took the 12.30 up to KL. There has been two more bombings in southern Thailand. Not a good scene. Will have to by pass the area.

I am looking forward to getting straight up to Surrat and sussing out my new employers. Arrived in KL and went to china town, where Yen (my host and pool partner from Malacca) had suggested finding lodging. Walked from the station and even found a bloke who was trying to sell me the same place. A funny Malay bloke with heaps of gold face piercings. He came with me and showed me some rooms. This one is good. Double bed with a fan. It seems to be the par. The all seem to be the same price.

I went and had a nap straight away for an hour and a half. Got up hungry and went out on the prowl. Wandered aimlessly for a while and decided on a pre diner drink. While looking for the Reggae bar that was advertised in the hostel, I met our man again who told me it was directly opposite. I went back and had a beer. It was quiet. Decided not to eat there and wandered back up towards the bus station.

Here there was a bloke selling Rolex watches.

How much.?

Very good imitation. For you 250.

No thanks.

I wandered if there were some more and went in further. Not just more, hundreds more. Watches, leather goods, shoes, DVDs, CDs, fruit and veg.

To cut a long story short, I walked away with three CDs, a DVD and a Tag watch. All ten each.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Ok, I am pissed. Maybe. I thought I might treat myself to a decent meal and took a seat at the flash version of the food court, the one with to table cloths and service. I should have known better. For the extra money you table clothes and service. Not all that much better. At least I got some spring rolls.I was sitting there drinking by beer and an Asian bloke offered to join me after we were frequenting the same DVD hawker.

We ended up chatting until 1100. He was a Christian from the other side of Malaysia, the east side which is quite different apparently.

He was grieving for the loss of his aunty and is due to marry his Italian catholic fiance้ in June. A match made in heaven.

Anyway, we drank many a beer and compared experiences. He suggested offering the lowest price possible to the hawkers. If they do not like it you can go to the next one, and they will run after you.

After I left him, concentrating on my step, I went to the nearest DVD seller and he showed me to his store…. The back of a food stall with a couple of lockable cabinets. I went through and chose ten that I wanted to watch. I offered him 50 for the 90 worth of CDs. To cut a long story short he agreed on 65. We both walked away happy. Until I play the CDs anyway.

Earlier that day...When I was walking past a McDonald's, a man at a bus stop asked if he could speak with me. They bought me a coffee in exchange for talking to me for a little while. His daughter is going to Melbourne to work as a nurse and he wanted me to put his wife's mind at rest. I even spoke to her on the phone. I gave him all the information that I had on the subject and he wanted me to go to his home. This was a bit too close for my liking, so I agreed to take his number and give him a call when I was free. Before long I met another two women who had relations that were going to live in Australia and wanted me to come to their homes. I have some numbers now that I do not intend to call. I think that they are looking for husbands. This is going a little too far.

Later that day...

In the afternoon I was at a loss for direction, so I let my feet do the walking. I ended up seeing the Sultanate palace and the largest flag pole in the world, apparently. Went for a walk around, trying to get my bearing on this city, with little success but did see some amazing architecture. I ended up back at The Reggae Bar where I spoke to one of the staff who was from Burma and would dearly like to return home but the Junta prevents it. He says that by 2006 there might be a chance of democracy. I do not hold my breath. From there I ended up at the restaurant with the table clothes and back here. Writing this. Tomorrow: Climb that tower thing, CDs, cheap work shirts, check email, Museums and cultural stuff. We will see. The day after Surrat.

Friday, April 08, 2005
Took the tram over to KLCC and looked around for that big tower thing that appears on all the tourist crap. It was not until I wandered outside that I realized that the train had stopped under the tower. I got a ticket to go up to the sky bridge, which was free, so I thought I might splash out and have a real sit down lunch. I decided on the Cesar salad with chicken.

Adequate to say the best. It was good to have some lettuce and a break from greasy noodles.

Went up the tower and looked over the city from 170m up. It was pretty impressive, especially the pollution. Nice view.

Went to the Museum. Not the most interactive in the world, but it did have English information. One place you are guaranteed to get away from tourists is anywhere cultural.

It was interesting to learn of Malaysian history, as what I knew of Malaysia could be written on the back of a postage stamp. It breaks down like this: people have been here for 40 000 years plus, Arab traders brought Islam in 1300's then the Portuguese invaded in 1511. The Dutch kicked them out in about 1640 and were replaced by the British some two hundred years later. The Japanese kicked them out in WW2 and when they left the British were back and everyone rallied for their own country. Apart from that there were some communists who were looking to take over but got their arses whooped. The first Malaysian PM came in the 1950's and there has been four since then including the last one that got done for homosexuality - still illegal here. The Koran is not very big on the idea. I think that this history explains the nationalism.

Sunday, April 10, 2005
Despite the bus operators offering a quicker ride to Surat I decided to take the train. I am not sure why. Some romantic idea of train travel. I was less inspired when I saw the third class train. Wooden bench seats. Crowded and I was always keeping an eye on my stuff, so I did not get much rest.

Six hours with only the meager provisions I got from a 7-11 in KL. There were hawkers going up and down the train but I was not game to give it a go. Not the place to get the shits. I was not even confident enough to get up and look for somewhere to have a piss.

Beautiful country side that I would not have seen on the bus and you could smoke out of the open window. When I arrived I told the tuktuk driver to take me to a hotel, the big one. He looked at me incredulously. Five stars, 1000 baht + a night. I said "Yep", I have had a long day. He dropped me at this new establishment which is only 500 / night. Luxury. TV (only Thai channels), en suite and air con. I had a shower, changed clothes and went out to diner for 116 baht. Surat seems so far like a small south east Asian town. There is some very unwholesome smells in the street where I am staying, a complete lack of road rules and I am getting used to the idea of being the only European in sight. Get a few odd looks. Hate to make any judgments without having a proper look around which will be tomorrow's priority. That and choosing somewhere more economical to stay, in the short term.

Interruption!: there was something that sounded like shouting in the street. I stuck my head out the window to take a look and there is only a fucking elephant walking down the street with someone on its back and a flashing light on its tail. There you go.