Distance: 56 km
Max Speed 29.7 km/h
Average while moving: 17.3 km/h
6 am start, cool and crisp morning air... I wasn't going to make the mistakes of the last few days!
Mr Teo had said it was about 30+ km to Muar, but a check of the map showed it to be more likely about 55km. Distances must seem shorter in a car. Nevermind. After the 75 km ride here, 55 in the early morning, and with no hills, should be fairly straightforward.
I was up very early, packed all my stuff then took a glass of water and the remaining bun from the coffeeshop near Rengit out to the patio. A number of lights had been left on around the rest house so I wasn't all in darkness. There was no one about and in that quiet time before even the faintest traces of dawn, even the insects seemed hushed. As I munched on the bun, the call to prayer sounded in the distance, muted by the early morning mist. A second from a different mosque followed shortly after and I figured it was time to go.
A final check, front and rear lights on and I pushed the bike out onto the road. Two ladies going out on their morning walk were the only signs of life up on this hill as I set off into the darkness.
I rode into town and here a few cars and motorcycles were already about. I sensed some curious glances, but no one called out. No one smiled. Too early in the day? Or perhaps the bigger towns sow the seeds of indifference. It didn't bother me though - the morning air was crisp and I felt good. The stiffness was leaving my legs and I was physically and mentally set.
Once out of town, the dark stretches became a bit of a problem. As I warmed up, my glasses misted ever so slightly and the headlights of oncoming cars cut my vision dramatically. I stopped once to try and wipe my glasses, but it seems Nike Dri Fit clothes are useless at that task, smearing rather than clearing.
I pressed on out of Batu Pahat as the town began to shake off the last vestiges of slumber. Here and there roosters crowed, the populace stirred and people began appearing in their gardens, on their motorcycles or bicycles, and always, in the background, I could hear a soft murmur from the mosque. It took me a few minutes to realise the morning Azan was taking a very long time indeed.
When I thought I caught some words in Malay, I realised it wasn't the Azan I was hearing after all. A quick calculation and I worked out it was Friday and I was probably hearing some sort of Friday morning sermon following the Azan. As I passed the last reaches of one mosque's speakers, it seemed I came into range of a different one's. And so it went for a few kilometres, the tinny monotone providing a calming accompaniment to my breathing.
I must have done about 20 kms in that first stint before stopping to rest. By this stage, the sun was up and the mist had cleared. I pulled up at a concrete bus stop - one of those with the ubiquitous and utterly incongruous Grecian columns. A Malay man of about 40 was seated there, one foot up on the bench, his slippers down on the ground below him. I smiled at him and he smiled back.
He asked the usual questions 'Where are you from?', 'Where are you headed?', 'Alone?' To this last question, I now tell a lie 'Ya, tapi ada member ikutlah, kat Melaka, KL, Ipoh' 'Yes, but I have friends joining me in Melaka, KL and Ipoh' Never hurts to be cautious I guess.
We talked for awhile about where I'd been and where I was headed and, as with everyone else whom I say it to, he laughed when I said 'my wife thinks I'm mad to do this.' Initially reticent, he warmed up soon enough. As we talked, another man rode up on his motorbike and joined us. And so we passed a few pleasant minutes.
When I finally decided it was time to go, they both wished me well and a safe journey - something I'd heard from almost everyone I'd had a short chat with. It never fails to warm my heart.
At one point I stopped outside some sort of factory. A glance at the drain by the road and I was sickened. Now it's not unusual to see green water in roadside drains - algae or other plant life often forms. This, however, was a thick, sludgy brown. And worse, there were dense bubbles on the surface lending the whole the look of some toxic effluent. Needless to say, I didn't stay long.
Much later, I was greatly revived by my encounter with two friendly gentlemen at a coffeeshop in Seri Menanti. I have written about the DAP and UMNO friends elsewhere.
I reached Muar at a little after 11, a little damp from a persistent drizzle in the last 10 km. Using the guidebook Lili gave me, I rang the first budget hotel on the list and found they were just up the road a little.
So here I am, at the Hotel Kingdom.
Post to del.icio.us
Max Speed 29.7 km/h
Average while moving: 17.3 km/h
6 am start, cool and crisp morning air... I wasn't going to make the mistakes of the last few days!
Mr Teo had said it was about 30+ km to Muar, but a check of the map showed it to be more likely about 55km. Distances must seem shorter in a car. Nevermind. After the 75 km ride here, 55 in the early morning, and with no hills, should be fairly straightforward.
I was up very early, packed all my stuff then took a glass of water and the remaining bun from the coffeeshop near Rengit out to the patio. A number of lights had been left on around the rest house so I wasn't all in darkness. There was no one about and in that quiet time before even the faintest traces of dawn, even the insects seemed hushed. As I munched on the bun, the call to prayer sounded in the distance, muted by the early morning mist. A second from a different mosque followed shortly after and I figured it was time to go.
A final check, front and rear lights on and I pushed the bike out onto the road. Two ladies going out on their morning walk were the only signs of life up on this hill as I set off into the darkness.
I rode into town and here a few cars and motorcycles were already about. I sensed some curious glances, but no one called out. No one smiled. Too early in the day? Or perhaps the bigger towns sow the seeds of indifference. It didn't bother me though - the morning air was crisp and I felt good. The stiffness was leaving my legs and I was physically and mentally set.
Once out of town, the dark stretches became a bit of a problem. As I warmed up, my glasses misted ever so slightly and the headlights of oncoming cars cut my vision dramatically. I stopped once to try and wipe my glasses, but it seems Nike Dri Fit clothes are useless at that task, smearing rather than clearing.
I pressed on out of Batu Pahat as the town began to shake off the last vestiges of slumber. Here and there roosters crowed, the populace stirred and people began appearing in their gardens, on their motorcycles or bicycles, and always, in the background, I could hear a soft murmur from the mosque. It took me a few minutes to realise the morning Azan was taking a very long time indeed.
When I thought I caught some words in Malay, I realised it wasn't the Azan I was hearing after all. A quick calculation and I worked out it was Friday and I was probably hearing some sort of Friday morning sermon following the Azan. As I passed the last reaches of one mosque's speakers, it seemed I came into range of a different one's. And so it went for a few kilometres, the tinny monotone providing a calming accompaniment to my breathing.
I must have done about 20 kms in that first stint before stopping to rest. By this stage, the sun was up and the mist had cleared. I pulled up at a concrete bus stop - one of those with the ubiquitous and utterly incongruous Grecian columns. A Malay man of about 40 was seated there, one foot up on the bench, his slippers down on the ground below him. I smiled at him and he smiled back.
He asked the usual questions 'Where are you from?', 'Where are you headed?', 'Alone?' To this last question, I now tell a lie 'Ya, tapi ada member ikutlah, kat Melaka, KL, Ipoh' 'Yes, but I have friends joining me in Melaka, KL and Ipoh' Never hurts to be cautious I guess.
We talked for awhile about where I'd been and where I was headed and, as with everyone else whom I say it to, he laughed when I said 'my wife thinks I'm mad to do this.' Initially reticent, he warmed up soon enough. As we talked, another man rode up on his motorbike and joined us. And so we passed a few pleasant minutes.
When I finally decided it was time to go, they both wished me well and a safe journey - something I'd heard from almost everyone I'd had a short chat with. It never fails to warm my heart.
At one point I stopped outside some sort of factory. A glance at the drain by the road and I was sickened. Now it's not unusual to see green water in roadside drains - algae or other plant life often forms. This, however, was a thick, sludgy brown. And worse, there were dense bubbles on the surface lending the whole the look of some toxic effluent. Needless to say, I didn't stay long.
Much later, I was greatly revived by my encounter with two friendly gentlemen at a coffeeshop in Seri Menanti. I have written about the DAP and UMNO friends elsewhere.
I reached Muar at a little after 11, a little damp from a persistent drizzle in the last 10 km. Using the guidebook Lili gave me, I rang the first budget hotel on the list and found they were just up the road a little.
So here I am, at the Hotel Kingdom.
Post to del.icio.us
