Langkawi is a
decently small tropical island, off the west coast of Malaysia. Given the fact
that it is decently small, the rate of running into other backpackers is
likely, but not common. What I’m about to tell you probably seems like nothing,
and isn’t even the remotest bit funny – but to us these guys will define ‘that
one time, in Langkawi…’ for the rest of our lives, not even kidding.
Also; read my recent Travel Generation article if you're up for tasty tidbits of travel stories;
We keep seeing these
guys around the island, in the most bizarre places, at the most random times.
We don’t know their names, we don’t know their nationality, but we have a
connection. There’s three of them; defined at Cappy (his love of his red
backwards cap), Wolfy (looks like Wolverine) and Swagger (has obviously had a
motorbike injury and consequently has a limp…but he tries to disguise his limp
by putting one hand in his pocket on his limping side, and trying to pass it
off as an ultra cool swagger. It absolutely kills us. SO FUNNY). Anyway, within
being on the island for 24 hours, we’ve seen them 9 times. That’s a lot. We’ll
be eating at a café, see them across the street, in their ultimate style and
glory, we’ll see them point and then journey over to the café where we are
sitting, and then sit down two tables away. It’s so mental because we know exactly who they are, and they sure as
hell know who we are, but both parties have never exchanged words or smiles.
AND IT’S SO FUNNY. Just like the box Dice and I had in the States, I’m
convinced that I’ll see all three of them in Melbourne or something and I will
lose my nut.
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| Sweet Inn Motel |
Today we took the
bikes up to the north of the island again, where it’s less populated and there
are beautiful beaches and long sweeping coastlines with white sand beaches and
clear turquoise swimming spots. Probably about an hour’s motorbike ride from
the ‘town’ where we are staying. At some point during the day, we’re at an
intersection and the lads just drive past, and Wolfy just turns his head and
looks at me as they zoom past. Me and the girls dropped our jaws and then
almost fell off our bikes with laughter.
Anywho, we’ve been
zipping around the island on our little bikes feeling like Charlie’s Angels,
you know, pulling our helmets off and walking in to the petrol station running
our hand through our hair, motorbike helmet under our arms, that sort of thing.
It’s proven to be a
bit challenging today actually, because there are certain spots of cow dung on
the road, which is slippery and a road hazard. Also, cars tend to be quite
aggressive and they’ll just zoom on past and they don’t even stop to see if
you’re dead after they’ve knocked you off your bike.
The bikes and the
time we’ve spent zooming around the coast have made for sure been stored in the
visual memory list for the rest of my life. The pictures don’t do it justice,
the 360 degree views of the jungles and animals and beaches are something that
even a talented writer such as myself is having trouble describing.
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| My favourite |
It’s the sort of
thing you find in Asia, and Asia only. And ‘yall should put it on your bucket
list. Probably one of the best days of my life. And that’s including the time
my roommate bought me a 10 pound jar of gummy bears in America.
But alas, as always,
it’s never smooth sailing for long with me….Or Annie for that matter. Bridget’s
pretty safe. And logical. Rational. Sensible. It goes a long way. We’re really
going to struggle without her when we head further South.
Ok, now don’t even
pretend to be surprised by what I’m about to tell you. I feel obliged to let ‘yall
know that I had a motorbike accident.
Just like on year 8
ski camp, when I would fall over after standing still on the skis on the flat
for 10 minutes, I fell of my bike at around 6 km/hr. So essentially a
standstill. Never mind the 100 km/hr I was rocking on the gravel minutes
earlier, I managed to fall off, completely, - and have the bike fall on me, on
the grass, from a standstill point. It was bound to happen. But I’m fine
(obviously). [Clam, I cannot help but think this bears certain resemblance to
your bike adventures too].
So maybe Ann had
actually contracted malaria (of which I consider myself an expert now…I’ve read
so much online info and educated myself thoroughly about the risk rate,
incubation period, symptoms of malaria and the possible signs that your travel
buddy has contracted it, I could basically jumpstart my medical career).
Because she was legit delirious this morning. [Side note; Bridge stayed in this
morning and Ann and I were up and on the bikes @ 8am]. We stopped at a
viewpoint, and after a bit of beaching, we get back to the bikes to discover
that Annie has LOCKED HER KEY in the lift-up-seat-bit of her bike.
Jeepers Creepers. On
the middle of a highway in the middle of an unpopulated part of the island, we
were stuck. Le sigh. After initial panic, we discovered that it hadn’t actually
locked properly, so it was ok.
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| UMAD |
Fast forward 40
minutes and we’re at this waterfall;
Nice, hey? Anyway,
we trek back to the bottom and get ready to leave, and Annie locks her key in
the seat, again. AGAIN. Now, this isn’t something that’s easy to do. She’s
literally thrown all her stuff in the seat for storage, thrown her key in on
top and then slammed it shut.
Jeepers Creepers.
This time it had
actually locked. We then spent a good 15 minutes trying to jimmy the lock, Ann
was delirious with stupidity and I was exhibiting my
Caty-Classic-Mix-Of-Emotions and laughing like I was at a Hooters Comedy show.
Lucky I have little wrists so with a lot of effort and might and laughter from
Malay bystanders, we finally succeeded…although it was difficult.
By some unfair
reason the gods above have decided to grant us with, Ann and I actually have
identical toothbrushes. So this motorbike-dilemma-situation is similar to when
I realise she’s used my toothbrush by mistake. It was sort of like she did it
once – and it was bad, but you dealt with it. The second time, it is
inexcusable.
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