Dear Traveler,

I have been watching you. Yes, creepy but true. You don’t know me, but I have come across you when I owned restaurants. I know how you behave when you are in your home country. I understand your expectations. But here’s the thing. your in Asia now.

They are not going to hover over you or try to be your friend. You need something, wave. That is the only way they will approach the table. Your bill will come once asked for and your dishes will not be cleared until you leave.

You don’t need to follow my advice, that is okay. But may I suggest you stay home then?

After our adventures in the jungle, we decided that sticking to tours was maybe the way to go. Upon returning to our hotel in Cameron Highlands, we booked a tour which was recommend by some friends. Half day – tour guide – perfect.

In the confines of our small bus, we start chatting with a couple from Florida. We casually mention that we did a self hike in the jungle the day before. They ask us which trail we followed. When I answer, “”number 9″”, both their faces drop. We already had a crappy experience, now we are going be to told shit we should have known before setting out.

The path we had taken was posted at their hotel as the one to avoid. Hard going and known for people being harassed by immigrants looking for money. I couldn’t help but think why the fuck did our reception not tell us this when we were asking directions to the path!

This little bit of information confirmed we are tour people going forward and wondering off by ourselves was no longer appealing.

The first tour was pretty good. Started out as ‘one star’ when they stop at a butterfly farm just off a busy road. Having a butterfly garden back home, this was rather a disappointment as a stop. From there it got much better, amazing mountain top views, mossy forest hike, ending at a tea plantation. The stars multiplied.

Feeling good about that tour, when we arrive in Taman Negara, we book a night safari into the jungle for 2 hours in a pick up truck.  The guide, loading us into the back of the pick-up on the benches, asks us to sit back to back. Once seated, they turn to the four of us closest the roof and tell us to get on the roof.

The girl behind me was shaken and asks if it is safe. ‘Yes, Very Safe’, he answers. I am pretty sure this is not safe, thus why most countries in the world don’t allow passages to sit on mats, on the roof of a pick-up, going 60 km/h down the road.

Five minutes into the tour and it starts to rain. Not a little spray, but an open up the sky, tropical rain. I can’t even open my eyes between the rain and the truck speeding along blowing water in my face. I am not seeing shit, but I am feeling the rush of rain water as it pours off the roof to soak me right to the bone.

The tour continues, the rain continues, and I just want him to turn around. The one guide is on the roof shinning a light looking for animals in the night. When he spots one, the truck slows and we all wait with excitement; what are about to see? An owl. Really?

The truck continues, next we see cows, another owl, and finally a snake. I am not sure how he saw it, but curled in a tree is a snake. I am amazed at his ability to see that as we are driving.

We head back to main road to return to the village. I think we are all feeling rather disappointed that we are on a two hour tour and the most exciting thing we see are jungle cows.

Just before town the truck stops as they have spotted something on the power line – we stare at this amazing animal with the cute little face of a monkey, and forget to take a picture of our first cool creature on the tour!

After we are dropped at our room, I look at Dirk and ask, ‘What was that animal we just saw? Slow something or other,’ I say. ‘Maybe Slow Larry?’ Dirk looks at me, ‘No it definitely wasn’t Slow Larry’.

Enjoy these pictures of Malaysia.

Travel Tip:

Even in Canada, we should watch what we flush down the toilette. Ensure you know in your country what can and cannot be flushed. For instance, many places nothing goes down the didn’t come out of you. Bins are provided beside the toilette to place all paper produces. Other countries, only feminine hygiene products are not allowed to be flushed. I have seen many toilets that are not what you expect in North America. So if you don’t have good squatting skills, I suggest you practice. Finally, the bucket of water is to flush away your waste – please use this.

My husband is smart. I have listened to stories by his family of him not going to class and still being on the honours role. I have heard him called a genius. Well, genius can’t read a map.

Before we left Canada, we agreed that I would plan California and Dirk would plan Asia. He did an amazing job of researching each country. In the end, he compiled a listing of the places he wanted to see and things he wanted to do. This is the road map for our travels.

Heading to Cameron Highlands in Malaysia, Dirk had a jungle hike as one of the items on his list. He had read that there are many trails that lead to waterfalls, farms, markets, and tea plantations. The particular hike he picked would take us one hour and from what he read, rated moderate.

The hike started with him not being able to really see on his map where to start. We approached the receptionist at the hotel and she gave him another map in which he was very happy as it was better then the one he was looking at on his iPad.

Leaving the hotel he started us off by going right – straight to a dead end. We turned around, I looked at the map and together we agreed we needed to head through town. Once through town, Dirk lead us up a hill. About 2 minutes in, I mentioned that I thought it was the wrong way again. ‘Can you not get more then 20 feet before you decide this is wrong?!’ he answered.

I decided to be quiet and walk until he figures out his shit. Oh, and that he is wrong. We get to the top and of course he is now needing to admit he took us the wrong way. I ask for the map, he hands it over. It is now mine to hold and make the turns necessary to get us to the trail.

Once we are back on track and at the path, our adventure begins. It is a nicely marked path with a concrete sidewalk painted red and green. It had just stopped raining (I guess it rains everyday here) so it was slippery. Walking behind Dirk was like watching Bambi on ice. Smiling and enjoying the easy walk we came upon the first waterfall.

As we continued, things got tighter. You were going over logs. Under logs. Around logs. Were we going the right way? Why haven’t we seen any other people on this trail?

After about 30 minutes we came across a man cutting branches with a machete. Dirk ventured over to ask if we were on the right track? The guy completely ignored Dirk, didn’t even turn his head when he called ‘hello’ three times. Since he was no help, we continued on our way. At one point I commented that we should have taken his machete since the trail was getting very hard to navigate.

Now began the tripping and slipping. It was not fun. I was getting scratched and muddy. The sound of the water had disappeared. Dirk was doing is best to clear the path, but it was getting too much and he fell down the slopes too many times. We both agreed once we got to the end, were taking a taxi back. This was shit.

Finally, a clearing opened and we were standing at the top of a farm with clear steps down and a road. As we walked by and looked at the path ahead, Dirk exclaimed ‘Fuck It’. We descended to the farm.

After being chased by one farm dog and barked at by another, we hit the main road and continued walking in what we believe was the right direction to Robison Falls. We spotted a man at one of the farms and asked for directions. He pointed, so hey that is the direction we were going with.

Soon we came upon a bee farm with several cars parked out front and tourist milling about. We approached the owner as to how far the falls were, she simply answered ‘Jungle Hike?’. I guess we were not the first people to call it quits and end up at her place. She called us a cab as we still had 8 km to go.

Sitting in the cab, staring at the map, all Dirk could say was: ‘How the fuck did we end up down there?’

Epilogue:

The next day when we mentioned to another couple we did trail No. 9. They looked stunned. Where they were staying, they were told not to go to this particular trail as it was not only the hardest, but immigrants have been known to be less than friendly to hikers. Now that would have been a nice bit of information from the receptionist at the our hotel.

In the end, the falls we passed in the first 10 minutes of the hike was our destination.

Travel Tips

Before you book accommodations, understand what is included. In Asia, most countries are poor. That means the luxuries of home come at a cost. Many places do not have hot water or air conditioning in standard rooms. These are upgrades. When searching for accommodations, ensure you are searching by need. We search looking for WiFi, A/C, and Hot Water. WiFi may only be at reception and not in the room. The places we have booked have been very clean, but some have lacked soap, face clothes, blankets and extra pillows. Packing a sarong will become your best friend. It is a sleeping sheet, a beach towel, and a bathing suit cover up.