Into Malaysia: Melaka

Unfortunately after just three days it was time to move on from Singapore to a less expensive city. We crossed the border into Malaysia on a pleasantly simple local bus journey which dropped us at the border town of Johor Bahru.

Our first impression of Malaysia was that the central bus stations are very well organised and the baked goods are disgusting. What I hoped would be a tasty savoury snack, purchased in a busy bakery, turned out to be a cream cake coated with spicy chicken. What a combination.

From the organised bus station of Johor Bahru we continued a few hundred kilometres up the west coast to the historical UNESCO town of Melaka.

What we didn’t expect when we arrived in Malaysia was that we would once again be faced with monsoon rains. After a summer of heavy rain in Thailand and Cambodia, followed by a typhoon which had us stranded for five days on an island in Vietnam, we were hoping to be over the worst of the weather as we headed into dry season. However, the dry winter season ends at Thailand’s southern border with Malaysia, and the monsoon begins again here. It’s bizarre that Thailand and Malaysia should have opposing seasons. The reason is that the monsoon we experienced in the summer comes from the west, while the monsoon currently soaking Malaysia comes from the east. The result is that we arrived in Malaysia and immediately scrapped all plans to travel up the east coast, as the resorts are all closed until February and the roads are dangerous to travel on in the rain. Instead, we went straight to Melaka, perhaps the most historical town on the peninsular.

Melaka's main square.

Historically, Melaka was a huge trading port which grew rich by trading spices. It was first colonised in the fifteenth century by the Portuguese, who remained for 130 years, leaving a distinct mark on the country’s heritage. Later it was colonised by the Dutch, and more recently by the British, before finally becoming independent in 1957. Today the town boasts several museums dedicated to displaying its colonial past, as well as being home to the old fashioned Chinatown, a couple of Catholic churches and a beautiful painted riverfront.

We enjoyed a relaxing river cruise past vividly painted colonial houses and a traditional Chinese village, and even spotted a monitor lizard swimming at the side of the bank. After that we walked around Chinatown and down the famous ‘Jonka Walk’, which really wasn’t worth all the hype. After a short jaunt up a hill to see a Portuguese Catholic church we’d pretty much seen all of Melaka. 

Painted houses along the river.

It’s a photogenic small town that can easily be visited in one day, but as we’d booked ahead for three nights we wisely spent our remaining time browsing shopping malls and going to the air-conditioned cinema.

Cycle rickshaws in Melaka really go the extra mile to decorate their bikes.

We Stayed At…

Backpacker’s Freak Hostel: one of the worst places we’ve ever been, a disappointing start to our time in Malaysia. Rooms with shared bathroom only from £7 (35ringit). Unfortunately the shared bathrooms are also used by the young boys who work there. We woke to find the toilets unflushed and covered in piss every day.

Kampot

After five nights in Phnom Penh we took the bus to Kampot. The 170km journey took a tedious five hours and we were relieved to finally have a bed for the night in Kapot Pepper Guest House. Kampot is a small town close to the South coast of Cambodia, surrounded by salt flats, pepper plantations and the locally named elephant mountain range.

Ric at Kampot's Durian Monument. Durians are an asian fruit that taste like gone off melons. They also stink and can be smelt from several meters away.

Lilly pond in Kampot.

Kampot’s main attraction is Bokor Hillstation 1080m above sea level. The hill station has been a much disputed area since its construction in 1920. It was first occupied by the French who built luxurious mansions and a casino that still stand today, abandoned and supposedly haunted. During the Asia-Pacific war the Japanese took over the hill station but where defeated by the Khmer Rouge in the early seventies. By the end of the seventies the Vietnamese took over the mountain and finally, left it to the Cambodians. We took a tour up to Bokor on possibly the most miserable morning we’ve had so far. The entire mountain was shrouded in a mist that hid the dilapidated buildings until we’d walked right up to them. The abandoned casino and Catholic Church looked spectacularly spooky in the swirling mist, with the wind howling through the doorways. Unfortunately we didn’t have any sort of view over the surrounding land but we did stop at a nice waterfall.

Spooky Bokor Casion.

The Catholic Church built by the French.

At the waterfall.

Included in the tour was a sunset river cruise. After the weather we’d had in the morning we had no expectations of a sunset but boarded the wooden catamaran and settled in for a relaxing cruise up the river. As we travelled further out of Kampot we passed fishermen on their way out to sea, they didn’t look particularly thrill to be spending the night on their old wooden fishing boats in the open sea. After an hours boat ride we stopped and some of the more daring passengers (Ric) jumped into the river and splashed about with rubber rings whilst the captain and his family ate their dinner. To our surprise the monsoon clouds parted and we were rewarded with the most stunning sunset we’ve seen during this trip. The river cruise was really a highlight of the day for us; it was wonderfully relaxing and we sat comparing travel stories with two English girls off the tour.

Beautiful sunset.

It’s easy to walk around Kampot and take in all the sights (of which there are few), but it’s really worth getting out into the countryside and seeing some of the surrounding area. We took a tuk-tuk to Phnom Ch’nork caves where a local nine year old girl asserted herself as our tour guide and directed us around. It really wasn’t necessary to have a guide, the area and the cave are very small, but she was a cool kid; she spoke brilliant English and made some witty jokes.

Our cute little guide, overlooking rice fields outside of Kampot.

Children in the village by Phnom Ch'nork cave.

One night we ordered food in our hotel restaurant, deciding to treat ourselves to a rather expensive burger instead of the usual fare of rice of noodles. I went for a bacon cheese burger and Ric ordered a maxi burger. When the burgers arrived I had bacon, cheese and bread but no burger. Ric’s maxi burger was two fried eggs on a bun. He was furious and stormed into the kitchen to find his burger, after all $5.50 for an egg butty is extortionate. After a confusing exchange with the manager, the chef was able to resolve the problem; she held up a burger bun and said “yes, burger”. Something had been lost in translation somewhere along the line.