In the US, many people are curious about how this travel thing works. “You must have a ton of money”! or “You like traveling by yourself?” or “YOU DON’T HAVE A SCHEDULE!!!!!!!”
So here’s a little overview of how this works. Take for instance the decision to go to Penang. One moment I’m trekking and exploring the hills and eating wonderful Indian Food and Strawberry ice Cream, the next I get a feeling that it’s time to go.
To the front desk with a question about ways to move on to Penang? Most direct and reasonable connection is a minibus. Book here! They called, a seat was available, I was booked and for 38 MYR, I was set. It was cheaper for the 6:00 bus, I considered it but decided against it. Too early and it only saved 8 MYR. By 7:00, we were on our way.
Approaching Penang and looking across the bridge spanning the Malacca Strait to the Island, my reaction was “OH MY GOD! It’s a city?!” Yes, a bit city. Noise, traffic, dust, more noise, lots of restaurants and people and litter.
Stopping at the first hotel recommended, it was double my price range. Affordable but why? Next stop, a nice single room but the place felt dark! Leaving my backpack in the lobby, I headed back the way the minivan had come and turned the corner. An told me he stays at Hotel 54, which was staring me in the face immediately around the corner. A few rooms left, dark as well, extremely helpful staff and reasonably priced, this was it.
Backpack retrieved and situated in my room, the first order of business was to degrime and orient. After a cold shower (yes, they feel wonderful in this muggy world and are repeated several times a day) I followed Jimmy’s directions and found the Kapitan Restaurant for amazing Pandori Chicken.
Walking back, I knew I wasn’t ready for a city. Jimmy told me how to get to the airport: let him drive me for a reasonable fare and avoid the hastle of taxi drivers. Next morning, after meeting some great people, I was off with Jimmy as we dropped my French friends for their ferry ride and I was on a plane for Medan.
Medan, you have read a bit about. Out the door, ignore the touts, ignore the next wave of touts, look no one in the eye, say “NO” and mean it, head down and keep walking. I found the reasonable TukTuk driver and got to my hotel, the Blue Angel.
I knew I would be leaving in the morning to get out another big noisy and dusty city. They told me to go across the road for “Bus 41” which would take me to the bus station at Padang Bulan and I’d find the bus to Kutacane. They start running between 6:30 and 7:00. One of my travel guidelines is that the earlier I leave, the more options I have.
After a very nice evening talking to people, I packed and prepared to get up early. I woke before the 6:00 alarm so showered, sorted my day pack and headed down with my pack. It was dark and someone I hadn’t met looked at me strangely? I told him I was going to take “Bus 41” to Padang Bulan. “No bus” he said! “Yes bus” I said. He pointed to the clock behind his head which read 5:20 am and said “No bus until 6:30”. Oh, a little time change thingy I hadn’t registered? Back to bed or what?
No place open for breakfast or coffee, I decided to take my chances on a dark and empty street. Soon, a Tuk Tuk driver approached. I told him where I wanted to go and he acted like he knew where it was. Driving along, he asked me several questions that created doubt. Finally, I showed him the printed name of the bus stop and the city I wanted to go to. With renewed confidence he drove ahead.
Abruptly, on a dark, empty and lonely street, he stopped. No bus stop was in sight nor was any sign of a bus? Cautiously, I stepped out and was surrounded by a group of men (short men) looking up at me and talking excitedly. They said something I didn’t understand?
Knowing that if this didn’t work out, I could find another TukTuk and return to the hotel. I walked to a table with some tickets and an authoritative man behind it. After struggling a bit, I realized I was pronouncing Kutacane wrong. Yes, in fact, this was the right but to the city just before Ketambe, my final destination.
Only a few seats remained. It was too small for me to sit my daypack down so I held it and was off on the road by 6:00. Curious about where I was really headed, the bus stopped and picked up a woman on the street who I let into the back seat behind me. She spoke English, actually teaches English at a high school in Bristagi and clarified that we were indeed heading where I wanted to go.
She got off, we trolled slowly for other passengers, passed the smoky peak of Mt. Sinabung which erupted in August and were off again. Stops in small villages were common. We stopped for lunch, the driver held up his hand with index finger pointing upward and thumb pointing horizontally to let me know how much time we had. Clueless, I saw a clock on the wall and realized he was saying when the hand reached the 3 of 3 o’clock which was 25 minutes, we would leave.
Three doors down was a bank. I pulled money out of my hand pointed to the money and the bank and he nodded his head. I wanted smaller bills for my journey to the jungle. The bank was very helpful, I was a celebrity to the locals gawking and staring, I left with smaller bills and returned to an empty parking spot. No minibus was in sight!
Had I misunderstood? Take a breath and consider. Hmmmmmm, if I am stranded here, I’ll find some way to make it work. No bus, really no problem. No backpack, I left about half in storage at Hotel 54 in Penang for later retrieval. Walking to the streets edge and looking around, I noticed a waving hand in a restaurant across the next intersection. It was one of the men from the bus. Whew!
I had a Kopi Susu (white coffee) and a couple rolls and headed back to where the bus originally stopped. Now, I noticed a couple people inside from my ride. I sat on a bench to wait. Ten minutes later, it returned with someone else driving. Maybe a gas trip? I noticed how bald the back tire was! I took a photo! Rough roads, no pavement in places, huge holes, rocks, pot holes and more in a vehicle with no tread on the tires.
Back in the minibus, we took off. Little by little, we neared Kutacane (pronounced Kuta CHA ne) stopping to let people off, I could now put my day pack on the seat beside me and it was around 2:00 pm.
A strange wobble followed by the sound of thumping and we pulled over to a tire repair place. The tire I had photographed earlier was flat. A crude but efficient process followed as a 2 inch screw was turned out of the tire, it was removed from the rim with much struggle, deemed to be ruined and remounted. Shockingly, they had a spare with air and a few barely visible centimeters of tread which they mounted.
This driver was a kamikaze type! Constantly veering out into traffic, wanting to get around anyone in front, zooming and braking, nearly hitting a truck at one point, it was no wonder we had a flat. I thought he might be more gentle now. That was not to be the case.
Passengers loaded, the minivan started and drove only a meter or two accompanied by loud scraping sounds. Apparently, “Kamakize” forgot to remove the jack? EEErrrrcccchhh! Driver out, done, back in and annoyed. He started about. About 20 meters this time before a loud rattling and scraping sound screamed from the rear of the van. I started laughing and the whole van followed. He forgot to reattach the frame which held up the now missing spare tire.
With more vigor than before, we were OFF! I was dropped at the exact spot where a minivan was leaving for Ketambe, waited about 40 minutes, had ice cream with the locals and headed off. I didn’t have any reservation at Ketambe but supposed I would find something.
An hour later, I was dropped in a jungle on a quiet road. I saw Wisma Cinta Alun but decided to explore a little. I took 10 steps when I saw three people coming down the hill side. They had just finished trekking and we talked as I followed them back to Wisma CInta Alun. I looked at a cottage, one of two overlooking the river, liked the room and the hammock on the porch so decided to stay here. I figured it was a good sign, meeting two people from Czechoslovakia and having a hammock on the porch. I parked my butt for dinner after a full travel day.