This post covers our journey from north to south Malaysia, starting on the islands of Langkawi and Penang before hitting the west coast and heading south.

SUMMARY

Malaysia is one of the wealthiest, and therefore one of the most advanced, countries of Southeast Asia. The roads are smooth and you’re never far from a good restaurant or nice accommodation. Being near equatorial means it is one of the largest palm oil producers in the world. It also means it’s hot and humid year-round, with a sprinkling of intense rain showers here and there.

STORY

Following our soft kidnapping situation Beck wrote about in the previous article, we headed straight for Satun to get the ferry to our 24th country, Malaysia. We decided to get the ferry for a couple of reasons; it saved time by cutting out the need to climb up to the Wang Prachan border crossing and it went to Langkawi- an island we’d heard good things about.

We got the bikes on the hydrofoil ferry without issue, just a bit extra for the bikes. Arriving in early evening, we rolled across to the other side of the island to find a cheap hostel. Sadly, we had to scale back our plans of doing a full loop of the island due to time constraints but we there long enough to discover there is a huge Indian cuisine influence in Malaysia. We were back to the dream of three curries a day, made even better with a beach + cocktails.

We were soon on our second ferry further south to Penang, and onto to an exciting meet-up. My brother’s former girlfriend had contacted us to say she’d seen our journey and loved to host us in her hometown. Malaysians don’t scrimp on hospitality so before we knew it we’d been put up in a 5-star hotel in Georgetown for three nights! It was the cleanest I’d felt in while.

Elysia was a real foodie and perhaps pitied our emaciated state so she gave us a list of all the best places to eat including the Gurney Drive Hawker Market on the first night and taking us for a banana leaf thali when we eventually met up on the second. One final act of kindness when it came to leave, she swung by our hotel to wave us off and settle the bill for our laundry. It seems Malaysians can’t bare the idea of any gaps in their hospitality.

It wasn’t possible to cycle any of the bridges that connect Penang with mainland Malaysia so we hopped on the free shuttle ferry with the morning commuter traffic. After a day of fairly functional miles we reached Taiping; a small town with a colonial hill station feel. We checked into cheap hotel and took a stroll around the Taiping Lake Gardens. I sulked as Beck wouldn’t let me the the night tour of the zoo but did let me have a MacDonalds. What a fall from grace compared to the last few days.

We’d cycled hard through Cambodia and Thailand to save time for Malaysia but annoyingly it wasn’t quite enough to fully explore the country. We had only two dates to commit to before the end of the trip; a second hosting opportunity in Kuala Lumpur and then our flight back from Singapore. To visit KL we had to stay on the west coast and didn’t have enough time to head into the central highlands- the going was slow in the equatorial-ish humidity. What followed was a few days of fairly functional riding, staying in roadside hotels and, of course, riding through endless palm oil plantations. It wasn’t unpleasant but just felt we weren’t seeing the best of the country. The saving grace, however, was piles of roti canai- an Indian flat bread served with a dahl- every morning. Each day we’d up the number of rotis ordered, sometimes to the point of shocking the waiter.

We eagerly pressed on to Kuala Lumpur. A friend of Becky’s in her old work conveniently knew the owners of a 5-star hotel and premium mall complex in central KL, and they had asked if we would like to do some Instagram marketing for them in return for a few free nights. As the saying goes: It’s not what you know, it’s who your girlfriend’s friends know.

For me personally, KL was one of the most difficult cities to ride into. It was impossible not to end up on a the hard shoulder of a double-decker highway. It’s a city planned from the outset around use of the car/motorbike and cannot comprehend why anyone would do otherwise. To top it off we had to sit out a rain storm with all the motorcyclists under a bridge.

We arrived at the Pavilion Hotel sweaty and slightly shellshocked from our highway experience. The porters, who seemed to have been briefed about our arrival, warmly greeted us and safely tucked the bikes away before we were whisked up to our suite. Once inside we took a moment to enjoy the silence. As with our experience in Penang, the most enjoyable aspect of a nice hotel room is the perfect silence. After months of traffic and horns, nothing beats cocooned silence.

*Two cyclists cheapening the hotel entrance*

As part of our stay we got a tour of the Pavilion Mall. The mall culture in Asia is difficult to comprehend. Nothing is thought of building them right next to one another, with each having a more spectacular USP than the next. Inside we were also treated to a ridiculous amount of food for free by Grandma’s restaurant, which we can’t thank them enough for.

Once we managed to prise ourself away from the room and hotel pool we visited the Petronas Towers a mere stones throw away. We also met up with Anton, the Belgian backpacker travelling Southeast Asia we’d previously met in Myanmar and Thailand. We discovered he’d be in Singapore the same time as us too so would be there for the ceremonious ending.

*KL rooftop drinks to celebrate one year on the road*

Leaving KL was equally as terrifying. I decided last minute to deviate the route from following the coast to staying more inland. I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t get at least some of the Malaysian hills in. My only plan was up and inland. A few hours later, and getting an earful from Becky because of the hills, we thought about finding a place to stay for the night. Unfortunately for us it was the eve of a national holiday marking the end of Ramadan. Everywhere was closed or booked up. We ended up having to head to some waterfalls which turned out to be very popular.

After waiting for everyone to leave we set up our tent under a nearby shelter, just in time before a full on lightening storm. All was going swimmingly until we were stirred at 3am by the sound of approaching motorbikes and what sounded like gunshots. Hearing young voices I was soon confident it was just a group of curious kids must have seen us setting up and returned to see what we were doing. The firecrackers - not gunshots- got closer and closer until they threw two right next to the tent. Perfectly normal way of waking someone up. Turns out all they wanted was to see our faces and soon left (after colourful language). One hell of a change from the previous night’s 5-star luxury.

Slightly jaded from trying to sleep through storms and ambushes, we started the next morning with a misty climb up the winding Genting Pass. There was a great atmosphere which lifted our sprits; no cars just lots of KL locals making the most of the national holiday going for a bike ride. We made our way up the pass as the mist burnt off the surrounding forest, people riding everywhere. It felt great overtaking people on expensive carbon road bikes, it felt demoralising when others burnt past me.

After a dreamy descent we were soon back onto the flatter roads and, of course, palm oil plantations. Functional riding again; passing through unremarkable towns, ending the day in a cheap hotel, searching for curry, repeat. We weren’t talking a great deal, instead listening to podcasts and music in our world. I felt this was partly due to the samey surroundings but mostly the niggling realisation the finish line was in sight. The enormity of what we’d experienced in the last year was humbling to reflect on.

Annoyingly, we actually had a few more days to play with than we originally thought. We could’ve seen a bit more of Malaysia or crossed into Singapore sooner but instead we chose to drag our heels doing short days before reaching the last city of mainland Asia. As we rode into Johor we caught tentative views of Singapore across the strait. In one sense I felt a wave of achievement as I stared across the water to Singapore- the ultimate finish line of the trip. In other ways I couldn’t bare to accept the reality it was the end.

Checking into a slightly nicer than usual hotel close to the Johor causeway meant we could cross easily the next morning, avoiding a classic city navigation argument on what would be Becky’s birthday. M
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