Malaysia

After spending nearly two weeks in Thailand and consuming as much coconut as possible, I finally had to say goodbye to the girls and break away to head south. In Krabi, I spent a night bumming around the night market until it started raining, then settled in for a night in my guesthouse. The next day my only task was to get to Hat Yai, a town about four hours from Krabi, so that I could catch my 4 PM train from Hat Yai to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. And I blew it.

I had been waiting for something to go wrong for about two months now, and it finally happened. I had been too dependent on the Internet, and when it said that buses leave every hour from Krabi to Hat Yai I figured a 10 am bus would be sufficient to get me there by 2, then I could park myself at the train station until my 4 pm train. Sounds good, right? That's what I thought too.

I showed up a little after nine, learned that there was a 9:30 bus, but that it was full, and the next one wasn't until 11. Yikes. I told the lady at the station about my train and she suggested I take a minibus that would leave at 11, which would be a little faster and could take me straight to the station - I would have plenty of time. The price was just a little higher than the bus so I said okay, time was more important anyways. But at 11:05, when the minibus still wasn't there, I realized my mistake - I was too spoiled from Korea's efficiency that I forgot about the Asia time golden rule: expect things to be late and slow. I was screwed. Plan Bs started frantically running across my mind, as the minivan finally showed up and departed at 11:30.

To the driver's credit, he drove pretty fast, though I suspect it was to impress the girl he seemed to be flirting with in the front seat. I tried to tell him I had a train at 4 and he pretended to understand me, but that was  clearly not the case as he turned left towards the bus station instead of right to the train station (thank goodness the signs were in English). 

I burst into the train station at 4:05, holding onto one last hope that the train would have arrived late from Bangkok, but no luck. It was gone. I asked up front but there were no more southbound trains that day, and my ticket was bought via Malaysian railways so they couldn't change it there in Thailand. He suggested catching a bus to the border town in Malaysia, 30 km away, where the train would be stopped to take a break for an hour and I could catch it there, but by the time I got to the bus station I wouldn't have had enough time to get through immigration. Breakdown time.

Breakdown was also due to the fact that I was running on about two hours of sleep and I had so been looking forward to my nice comfortable train ride. But, I had to get myself to Malaysia either that night or the next morning. I ended up walking by a travel agency and decided to chance asking about buses to KL. Turned out he had one leaving in a half hour, though I'd be arriving in KL at about 4 am - I knew I couldn't catch a bus to Malacca, my destination, that early. But, a quick Google search said that the bus station I'd end up at was central, so I could easily get to the light rail, and it was a nice new facility - I figured I'd be safe there for a couple of hours until the lines started running. 

So with that, I took the risk and paid up, then blew my remaining Thai money on junk food because I felt sorry for myself. Things perked up when I boarded the bus and discovered I had my own private aisle seat - even if I didn't sleep, at least I wouldn't be creeped out by my seat mates (don't worry, I'll spare you the stories.) And then, approximately three hours after I arrived at the train station in desperation, I was off to Malaysia.

I awoke bright (it was actually dark out) and early at 4 am, and instead of getting dropped off at the nice new bus terminal I had been expecting to chill out at...it was the roadside next to the terminal, and the terminal wasn't open. Rude awakening. Enter the 24 hour KFC across the street, with wifi as an added bonus. I parked myself in the back, near some solo women who were doing the same thing - at 6 am there was an exodus of people leaving to go catch the public transportation that had started running, myself included. 

After going the wrong way approximately four times between KFC and the bus terminal I had to get to on the light rail, I finally made it to the correct bus station ad bought myself a four dollar ticket to Malacca, only a two hour journey away. Then it was coffee time. 

The bus ride to Malacca was really pretty, with endless fields of coconut palms and bright green hills. Apologies for the picture out of the bus window. Once I arrived there, my last task was to get myself to the hostel - one more local bus ride took me right to the heart of the old city - Dutch Square. 

I liked Malacca immediately. It was clean, adorable, historical, and a UNESCO World Heritage city at that. You can imagine my delight, especially when I looked at a map and discovered ten museums within a mile radius (including the Museum of Numismatics and the Museum of Stamps...thrilling). I was excited. I checked into my excellently located hostel, got an orientation from the slightly oddball owner who either had a perpetual winking problem or just felt a wink should be added to every sentence, and took off to explore.

The day was super hot but brilliantly sunny, and as I walked around to take pictures before the museums I stopped to read all the historical marker signs along the way. So here's some history. The sleepy little settlement of Malacca (Melaka in Malaysian) was founded in 1403 by a Indonesian dude, and within the next century it grew to become one of the richest, most famous port cities in the world. Situated between mainland Malaysia and across the way from the Indonesian island of Sumatra, the famed Malacca Straits also happened to provide an excellent haven for seafaring traders who had to wait out the change of the monsoon winds. By luck and chance, the traders who got stuck in Malacca ended up liking it so much and were treated so well by its people that they stayed a while, and it became a primary stop along the trade routes. At first it was just Javanese, Chinese, Indian, Arab, and a handful of other Asian traders, but soon the Portuguese caught wind of the famous Malacca...and then they got greedy.

The Portuguese originally showed up in Goa, India, to get their hands on spices and goods for trade, but in the early 1500s they showed up in Malacca, and decided they wanted it for themselves. Begin over five hundred years of foreign occupation. Once the Portuguese conquered Malacca in 1511, they forced hundreds of slaves to build an imposing fort, the remains of which are still around here and there (pictured). The Dutch soon got wind of Malacca's prosperity and decided they wanted a piece of the action, too. So, they took over in 1640 and clearly decided to make the town as cute as possible. They did so with raging success, but their dominance only lasted a couple hundred years until the British, who were busy colonizing upper Malaya and working their way down, ended up taking it around the beginning of the nineteenth century. 

Dutch Square

The British capitalized on their rubber tree empire in northern Malaysia while hanging out in Malacca and Singapore until the Japanese bombed and invaded both territories in 1942. After the Allies won it back, power went back to the Brits until 1948, when the Federation of Malaya was proclaimed, followed by complete independence in 1957. History lesson courtesy of my notes from three of the aforementioned museums. 

The Straits of Malacca

And today Malacca is ruled by...tourists. But it was a nice change to be alongside Malaysian tourists, not just other white and Asian people. I wandered, took pictures, poked in the shops, and hung out with a Dutch girl from my hostel, and then it was time to say goodbye. I also had the pressure of my Fulbright application to finish up that evening in KL, so I needed to scope out options in case my hostel didn't have a solid internet connection. Silly thing to worry about, isn't it?

Unfortunately, I arrived back in Kuala Lumpur in the middle of a rainstorm, which continued on into the next morning and caused me to miss out of seeing pretty much anything beyond the bus station, that lovely 24 hour KFC with the really friendly worker girl, and my hostel. But the good news is, I can always come back. I did manage to sneak out at night in between the rains and Fulbright and try Malaysian satay, see a bit of Chinatown, and see the tops of the LK tower and the Petronas Towers. And I finished Fulbright, at about three in the morning. AND I made my plane the next day, despite three changes in public transportation. So life was good, despite a rushed Malaysia experience.

Actually, within about two hours into Kuala Lumpur I decided that Malaysia is the country I want to come back to for further travel the most. The islands on both the west and the east coast are supposed to be really beautiful, and through a series of misfortunes I just seemed to keep missing parts of it I had been looking forward to, especially in the north. So, this trip was a nice little introduction en route to Bali, and now I know what to do when I come back, along with whatever unexpected surprises will come my way. 

Last glimpse of Kuala Lumpur

I'm on the island of Bali now, folks, so I hope you enjoy your weekend! Take care!