Pulau Perhentian - too many people

An all day shuttle bus, including a few stops at slightly overpriced restaurants designed solely for tourists on tours with no choice but to patronize the restaurant in the middle of nowhere, got us to Kuala Besut, a tiny town and departure point for the Perhentian Islands. About ten of us piled into the small, covered speedboat, and we were on our way. Expecting a calm ride, we put on our lifejackets as merely a precaution, but we got out on the choppy seas, pushing the engine as hard as it could go, jumping and diving over the waves, pounding our heads against the overhanging roof and smashing us back to the benches below, and we were all glad to have them on, just in case. A few years ago, a small ferry boat sank in these waters, prompting the government to crack down on the type of ships used in the area. It was a rough trip, but thanks to the excessive speed, we got there in only 35 minutes, when the fun began. Not really knowing where to stay, I, along with the French girls that I had met earlier, decided to just head to Long Beach, the most popular place in the islands, thinking there would be plenty of places to stay. Carrying our heavy bags across the sand and through the heat, we went our separate ways, each desperate to find something. Up and down the beach, around back alleys, up steep hills and back down I searched, eventually finding one place with just a single room left for about $10 a night. This little bungalow setting looked nice with a few raised wooden A-frame huts around a grassy area just about a quarter mile from the beach, but inside they were less than luxurious. A tiny fan (with intermittent electricity) was about my only creature comfort, fighting against the heat trapped in the windowless box from the relentless sun. Happy to have a place to sleep other than the beach, I went down the crowded beach for dinner, opting for one of the numerous tables on the beach next to an open fire where fresh seafood was cooked. I chose the shark special, which was decent, though I'm not a huge fan of seafood. After a sweaty night enclosed in the mosquito net around my bed, I awoke to check out the picturesque island and hopefully find a little more comfortable place to stay. Even at 9 am, there were already backpackers roaming the beach, some looking for upgrades, most just arriving, looking for a place to stay for the night. Apparently high season is typically this way, with large amounts of people arriving, all assuming that they'll be able to find something when they get there, and this is clearly not the case.

In addition to the accommodation hassle, I was really put off by my first impression of the islands. Chairs, umbrellas and cafes crowded out the white sand beach, presumably a tropical paradise at one time before the development came in. This might be a decent mix of nature and partying for some, but it was certainly not the scene that I was seeking after seeing some marvelous pictures of the white sand and clear waters of Pulau Perhentian. I also probably should have stayed at a more secluded spot around the island, but without booking ahead, I didn't really have much choice in the matter. Parasailing, banana boats, scuba trips and anything else are all on offer, though I just wanted to get away from it all. Fortunately, I had noticed a rocky spot on the South end of the beach while coming in the day before, so I grabbed my things and headed there, hoping to elude some of the sun-seekers. As it turns out, I easily found my way to this 'secret' spot, and I was alone there for most of the day, lounging on a tiny little patch of sand nestled among some large boulders and thick forest pushing its way into the clear blue-green sea. This was exactly what I needed, a peaceful place to escape the commotion, though I was literally just a ten minute walk away from the insanity. The second night brought a massive tropical storm, sending lightning and thunder screaming across the skies above. I set up my chair on the covered deck of my bungalow and watched the powerful storm as the rain poured down. The storm lasted on our island for about 45 minutes, sending down huge lightning strikes that lit up the sky and appeared to even touch down on our tiny island, given the proximity and blinding flashes of light that seemed to be just around the corner. Afterwards, the sky cleared and the pleasant evening was much cooler (as was my bungalow), making it almost pleasant to walk around without sweating.

Situated just South of the Thailand border, these islands definitely have their scenic areas with massive granite boulders lining parts of the shore, giving way to shining white sand, backed by thick forests, but after coming from the laid-back paradise of Pulau Tioman, I couldn't help but long for something a little more private, a little more undiscovered and less developed.

(My tiny hut, bathed in tropical heat. Inside was a tight fitting bed and a mosquito net.)

(My idyllic little spot among the rocks. Only two or three other people came by during the day, so that was a nice change from the rest of the crowded beach.)

(Not too much sand but not too many people either. We all must make compromises.)

(Me and the beach, just hanging out.)

(A view of the more popular part of Long Beach, full of umbrellas, chairs and tourists.)

(The clear water of the Perhentians almost makes up for the large crowds.)

(Pretty amazing spot, I must admit.)

(Yeah, I tend to take a lot of photos in a place like this.)

(My tiny beach got slightly larger as the tide went out. Amazing how that happens.)

(The parting shot of my perfect little spot on the imperfect island. I had a bad impression of the place on my first day, but this tranquil little spot redeemed the whole island for me.)

(The powerful storm brought a few of the residents of my bungalow out from under the rafters. There were four different lizards, all very large, probably about the size of a burrito. As you know, you can relate everything to food.)

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Exploring the Bat Cave - Gua Telinga

For day two in Taman Negara, we decided to do a package tour, taking us down the river on a longboat to one of the indigenous villages and out to a cave system hidden in the middle of the jungle. Our guide was a local from one of the villages, a small, dark-skinned guy with just enough English to try to explain a few things that didn't come out so clearly. Unfortunately, despite living in the tourist village now, he had not picked up the habit of using deodorant, so it was easy to tell when he was around, though it did make me wonder about body odor originating as a sort of insect repellant for native people. Anyway, I imagine I'd smell the same way after a few days in the forest. So, after 20 minutes down the river, we climbed the steep river banks and found the local village, basically just a few thatched huts in a small clearing of trees consisting of about three families, with a few women caring for the children as the men were presumably off hunting and fishing. These people are known as the Orang Asli, meaning Original People in the Malaysian language. Promising to stop on the way back, we passed through the village and into more of the green expanse of jungle, heading for the caves. Not knowing what to expect, we came upon the sign for Gua Telinga (Ear Cave), apparently named for its resemblance to an ear canal. Based on some pictures I had seen back at the restaurant, I was expecting a fairly large cave with large atriums and a few dark corners. As it turns out, this was not one of those kinds of caves. Our nimble guide squeezed into the narrow opening, and Kristen and I did our best to keep up, ducking, crawling and slithering over dark, wet rocks, hoping the small flashlight shared between the two of us would be sufficient.

Passing over a small creek, we went in and out of tiny openings, thinking that they probably should have mentioned that this activity might not be suitable for all people. At times, I literally had to pass through openings about two feet high, trying not to get too dirty or imagine what may lay hidden in the darkness; other times, scraping my back as I squirmed through openings barely larger than the circumference of my body. On top of the claustrophobic aspect of it all, this would be a terrible place for someone with a fear of bats. In the first opening, our guide put his light towards the ceiling, and we saw that we were surrounded by hundreds of bats, most clinging to the ceiling as they slept, some awoken by the noise and flash of flight, passing over our heads to assess the intruders into their cave. It was probably better that I couldn't see a lot of the bats, only feeling the whoosh of air from their wings as they swooped inches away from my head. After a few more small rooms in the cave and many more bats and miniscule openings, we reached the end, a point were we had to push up through a very narrow opening, pulling ourselves up to the rocks overhead and finally seeing daylight streaming through a small opening in the end of the tunnel. It turned out to be quite an exhilirating experience, much more adventurous than either of us had imagined.

Heading back to the village, dripping with a delightful combination of sweat, dirt and water, we once again reached the village, where we were allowed to roam freely to explore the circle of huts, though the few villagers didn't seem too thrilled to have foreigners gawking at them, so I took a few discrete pictures, but I always feel bad taking pictures of local people like that. We were then greeted by one of the young men in the village who spoke a little bit of English and showed us how to make fire and how to make the poison darts used for their blow guns to hunt for food. We were even given an opportunity to try our aim with the blow gun, aiming at a stuffed Garfield tied to a tree about 20 yards away. Both of my shots fell short, but the guide showed us how to do it properly, and that was basically the end of our visit. As I expected, it was interesting to see the local people, but it will never be an authentic experience when done in a sort of package tour where tourists go in and out every day, hoping to find an undiscovered lifestyle.

So, after two days of trekking through the sweaty jungle, I decided it was time to move on, booking a bus trip the next morning up to Kuala Besut, the launching point to Pulau Perhentian, another idyllic set of tropical islands in the Northeast corner of Malaysia. Getting on the bus, I again met up with the three French girls that shared the same itinerary, not all that surprising, as we were both heading to a couple of the 'must-see' destinations of the area. Just as we were leaving, there were a few stories floating around about a Dutch guy seeing a tiger in the jungle the day before, then hearing it roar as it attacked presumably a deer, though who knows if the story is true. I also met a pair of Danish girls who thought they had seen a tiger and turned and ran before realizing that it was just a small, golden jungle cat.

(A few of the Orang Asli people, hanging out amongst the trees.)

(More greenery on the way to the caves, hidden deep in the thick forest.)

(The long roots of the strangler fig.)

(You couldn't exactly tell how many bats were around until you used the flash on the camera, and then you realized that they're basically all around you.)

(More of our little buddies, starting to get annoyed by our flash.)

(This is actually one of the larger caverns in the place, leading to some ridiculously small openings through which we had to squirm and contort our bodies.)

(Back to the village - this is one of the local huts, with a simple thatched rug on the floor for beds.)

(She's either hungry, angry or bored. I don't speak Malaysian.)

(Same mother, different location. Also, nudity alert.)

(Attempting the blow gun used for hunting. I just missed the target - a Garfield stuffed animal hanging from a tree.)

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Taman Negara Rainforest

So, after a few last second changes of plans, the Bus Schedule Gods decided to send me to Taman Negara, a huge national park in the center of Malaysia. The sprawling park is reputed to be the oldest rainforest in the world, since its location near the Equator and a few other factors means that it never experienced the Ice Ages that would have wiped out other forests of the time. It is also home to native wildlife including some elusive elephants and tigers, though it's said to be hard to find any of the larger animals without trekking for days into the virgin jungle. The windy road passed through forested hillls, through small towns and past numerous oil palm plantations consisting of rows and rows of massive palm trees, though I don't actually know the final use of the oil, but it must be profitable, as these groves are everywhere in Southern Malaysia. Passing through the small towns, it's interesting to see the influence of the Muslim culture here, always finding an elaborate dome and mosque in even the smallest villages, hearing the call to prayer a few times a day and seeing most of the women covered up with traditional head scarves, though often still wearing jeans and a t-shirt below. Being my first experience in a Muslim culture, it's very interesting to see this culture in action.

Our first bus connection left us in a small town where we had to wait four hours for the next connection, meaning that we wouldn't make it to the forest that night. In fact, after the second bus, we didn't arrive to our destination until around 1 am, eager to find a hotel and get some rest for the next day. A local guy greeted us as we stepped off the bus, and these usually aren't the guys that you want to deal with, but it was really late, and he offered a place very close to the bus station. Also, the place he mentioned was also recommended by the guide book, so I felt ok with that. As it turns out, this place was pretty much abandoned, which we found out as he pull back the chain door and led us to an empty upstairs area with a few rooms. Kristen, a Canadian girl on the same bus, and I booked a very cheap dorm room and tried to sleep, though the hotel wasn't as nice or clean as we had hoped. Throughout the night, we were awoken by bug bites, random noises and even some weird dreams about the place. At the price, we can't complain too much, but we were quite happy to get to the morning and up to the park.

Our 'friend' also took us up to the starting point of the park, pushing his dilapidated car to the limits on a few hills, but we eventually made it. From there, we took a three hour boat ride up the muddy river, flanked by thick forest on both sides, cruising along in a wooden boat with a sunshade, not far above the water level. Finally the never-ending forest revealed a small break on the river bank, and we had arrived. A few floating restaurants on the shore led up to a small village of a few hotels and travel agents, ready to take us into the forest. Again, we found a cheap dorm room, this time much cleaner, and then Kristen and I took a boat back across the river to the entrance of the park. As with the rest of Malaysia, this area was hot and the air was thick with the humidity of the forest. Within minutes, we were covered in sweat, but we continued up and down the thickly forested trail, passing by ferns, massive trees and making our way over the massive roots systems of the strangler fig trees spreading out through the jungle. Climbing a series of steep stairs, we made it to the canopy walk, one of the man-made attractions: a narrow hanging bridge/walkway linking the tops of a few of the taller trees, putting you at the top of everything, about 100 feet above the forest floor below. The first steps were shaky, but it seemed sturdy enough, so we went through, marvelling at the thick greenery surrounding us. This is also supposed to be the world's longest skywalk, though the last third of the bridge was closed for repairs, so it may have to relinquish that claim for now.

Moving in, we tramped back down the steep hill only to find out that we actually needed to climb back up that exact route to get to the peak of the next hill, for a sweeping view of the park and river below. Again, we pushed forward up the steep track, hoping to find animals and more importantly, the marker for the viewpoint. At this point, I was literally soaking in sweat, my clothes completely drenched, though I was enjoying the scenery. We passed through more and more trees, and we eventually found the top, looking out at the undulating green hills in all directions, and we even saw a few monkey-type creatures along the way, white flashes of fur with long tails hopping from branch to branch, though we couldn't actually identify what kind of animal it was. More common, though, are the massive insects of the forest. Ants the size of large spiders passed underfoot, and we also came across a gigantic centipede, making me think that some of the multi-day treks through the forest, sleeping on the ground, might not be such a good idea. Also, just trekking for our four hour trip was tough work, so I thought the romantic idea of a long trek into the woods might be better done in another park at higher elevation, where I'd at least be able to cool down a bit. Finally passing back into the village at the beginning of the park, we saw a few macaques (monkeys) chewing on the power lines for the tiny hotel, and that was it for our adventure.

(The view from the muddy river. Our boat was disconcertingly very close to the water level. On the plus side, we did have life jackets.)

(A typical view of the hot, sweaty, incredibly green forest.)

(The Sky Canopy, suspended far above the forest floor. As you can see, it's just a narrow wooden beam, supported by a network of ropes. A bit shaky, but sturdy enough to trust it.)

(Further along, in the midst of the canopy.)

(Heading back from the canopy and lookout point, we were ready for civilization again or at least a shower.)

(In a display of supreme intelligence attributable to our close evolutionary relatives, this monkey (a long-tailed macaque) was chewing on the power lines. Good idea.)

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Malaysia - Pulau Tioman

Selamat datang ke Malaysia (Welcome to Malaysia)

Leaving Singapore and a strange, frightening day at the zoo and Night Safari behind, I boarded a bus for Johor Bahru at the Singapore/Malaysia border, only about an hour from the city. Along with an older Australian couple and a bunch of locals, we made a few stops at the respective customs and immigration departments, struggled to find our same bus to continue to the bus station instead of being stuck at the border and finally made it to the crowded bus station right around noon. I wandered through the large station, hearing every different destination shouted at me, "KL" (Kuala Lumpur - the capital) being the most popular call. After getting some local currency and having an authentic noodle lunch, I was off on another bus, heading Northeast up the coast to a small town called Mersing.

Mersing itself is nothing to see, but it's the location of the ferry terminal to a few of the most picturesque islands in Malaysia, so I figured it would be a good start to my Malaysian journey. The second that I stepped off the bus, the few other tourists and I (somehow we stand out against the shorter, darker skinned Malaysians) were approached by a friendly woman who turned out to be a travel agent, trying to sell us package deals to Pulau Tioman, the most popular island in the region. I told her that I was looking for a certain hotel, which she immediately told me had closed a year ago. Not believing her and a few of her other stories about the inaccessibility of some of the islands, I politely listened and took her information, telling her that I'd be back later if I wanted to book something. Just down the street, I saw my potential hotel, windows broken, doors boarded up; I guess she was right. So, I headed down to the hostel at the end of town, excited to find a guy named Omar who ran the place and offered a highly-lauded day tour of four or five of the semi-deserted islands in the area. I found the hostel, opened the door and walked up the stairs. Things looked a little strange, though. There were a few pairs of sandals and shoes on the rack, all looking very old and dusty. All three of the rooms and the kitchen were open, with absolutely no one or no bags in sight. I figured that he may have stepped out for a while, but it was strange to see that no one else was even staying in the place. I also noticed a sign up sheet for the island tour, with the last entry being from someone in June. After ten or fifteen minutes, I decided to move on, booking a room in the cheap hotel down the road, content to stay in my concrete block for one night. Being right next to the main road in town, it was quite loud, but I was just happy to have a fan and a cheap place to stay.

I returned to the travel agent, trusting her a little more, and I ended up booking a trip with her, excited about my journey the next day. Pulau Tioman is supposed to be one of the nicest islands in Malaysia, one of its top tourist attractions. I had seen some wonderful pictures of the beaches and jungles, and I couldn't wait to see it in person. This was actually the island used to portray Bali Hai in the classic movie South Pacific, and it was also rated as one of the ten best islands in the world at one point in the 70s. So, I boarded the ferry early the next morning and got to the island after two hours on the water. The mountainous green island is completely covered in rainforest, with the exception of a few beaches and tiny settlements along the coast. Upon arrival, I had to wait for the 4 x 4 truck to take us up over the mountains, across the 5 mile road that traversed the island. Hopping in the truck bed along with one other French girl and a few people in the cab, we were off, heading up a very steep concrete path, winding in and out of huge trees, palm fronds and even a tiny bit of wildlife - we saw a monkey hanging out on the side of the path near the top of the island. Coming back down, the dense forest finally cleared, and we were all of a sudden in Juara, the lone settlement on that side of the island. I had chosen this beach as it is said to be one of the prettiest, in addition to being less crowded because it is so far from the more popular spots.

Seeing my hotel, I knew I had made a good choice. Located on the tiny concrete 'road', the restaurant of my hotel had a nice balcony overlooking the green water, with the rooms being slightly set back in a row of wooden huts in a grassy patch just behind the road. I was also excited that I opted for the room with air conditioning, as it was already really hot, and sweat was pouring down my face. And my splurge on the hotel actually means that I spent $23 a night, so I guess it's not that bad. Around noon, I headed out, ready to see what this small piece of paradise had to offer. The golden sand stretched around a half-moon shaped bay, running for around 1.5 miles before being cut off by rocky headlands on both sides. Only a small covered pier broke up the clear, green water, with tiny resorts and restaurants fighting with the massive palm trees for space along the coast. This was not exactly uninhabited, but there were very few people on the beach at one time, and coupled with the convenience of having 5 or 6 tiny restaurants to choose from, I was quite pleased with the situation.

I passed the days strolling up and down the beach, even finding a more secluded second beach a mile or two down the road, home to just a few local houses - colorful wooden box style houses raised on stilts or concrete blocks to help during the rainy season, and a turtle sanctuary that made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that uninvited guests are not welcome, so I stayed away from that. Militant environmentalists, I guess. Not wanting to leave, I extended my stay for a third night, giving me about four days in this picturesque, tranquil place. With the heat and humidity, there is not much else to do other than admire the lovely beaches. We even had a full moon to light up the dark nights, filled with the chatter of wildlife. During the day, if you didn't look closely, you may happen to see a monkey or large monitor lizard wandering around, but a closer look at the coconuts of the towering palm trees reveals large colonies of flying foxes, sleeping upside down during the day, wrapped in their own massive wings, just a brown ball with a bit of fur sticking out. But at dusk, these things come alive, making their presence heard. As the sky grows darker, they start waking up, chirping and clamoring, sounding like a mix of cicadas chirping and pigs squealing as they get ready for their nightly feast. The massive bats spread their wings against the dark night sky and head into the jungle. One night I sat on the beach and just watched them disappear, one by one.

Other than that, my main events during the day centered on meals, which were incredible. I found a local place near the pier, a sort of restaurant with cheap plastic tables and three walls, with the fourth side being open to the wide beach and ocean in front, just steps away. The local curry here is incredible, a mix of coconut, maybe potato and some other amazing ingredients, and I could eat it everyday. The roti canai, a flaky, thin, flash fried bread, is also a mainstay on my lunch menu. It's only about $0.35, and it comes with a curry dipping sauce as well. So, with the island culture and my reluctance to leave, lunch usually becomes about a two hour event, admiring the views and the food equally as I relaxed in the warm tropical breezes. Knowing that there's a lot more to this region, I eventually decided to move on, but it will be hard to beat this mix of relaxation, beauty and great food, all at really nice prices.

On my final day, we took the 4 x 4 back across the steep mountain road, all a little sad to leave this place behind. I was headed back to Mersing, hoping to find a bus to the center of Malaysia, to visit Taman Negara, the most popular national park in the country and the oldest rainforest in the world. When I got to the bus station, the tickets were sold out for the day, so I reluctantly decided to head up the coast on a long bus ride to the Northeast coast for another set of idyllic islands. While waiting in the bus station, having a plate of rice and some sort of fish and chili mixture, one of the French girls from the resort came over and told me that the ticket agent was looking for me. Apparently, one of the seats on the bus opened up, so I decided that it was better to just forfeit the cost of the ticket that I bought up the coast (about $15), and take the ticket inland, so I could enjoy the beach, then the jungle, then the beach again. The nice ticket agent did try to sell the ticket for me, but with only 30 minutes to do so, it didn't happen. Oh well, off to the jungle...

(The view from the back of the truck, traversing the rugged center of Pulau Tioman.)

(Taken from my hut, looking past the five or six huts on each side towards the splendid beach. Definitely one of the nicer hotel settings that I've ever had.)

(The 'hidden beach' on the South side of Juara, as seen from the end of the pier. One of the local pasttimes is apparently riding to the end of the pier and back on their scooters, for no apparent reason. Also, a few of the drivers on the island seem yet to have reached their 12th birthdays, but I guess that's ok when there's only one road on which they can drive.)

(One half of the main beach. Check out the thick forest behind and the tiny hut accommodation nestled between the palms. Later in the day, I'd be hiding in a chair underneath those palms, enjoying doing absolutely nothing.)

(Another view of the incredible beach. As you can see, I really liked this place.)

(Leaning palms and beach huts with sand at the front steps. It doesn't get much better. This is actually not my place, but I hung out around here, as it was pretty quiet in this area. And it was just about a four minute walk from here to my group of three great restaurants/cafes.)

(More water, more greenery. It didn't get repititive to me while I was there.)

(The classic beach and palm tree combo.)

(Me and my little chair. Check out the Malaysian flag over my shoulder. Notice any similarities to a certain flag that also uses a blue rectangle in the upper left corner with white symbols inside, along with 13 red and white stripes? Hey, maybe they had it first...in their 1957 independence...)

(A little creek coming from the mountains.)

(Whitewashed rocks mark the end of the public beach and the start of the crazed turtle sanctuary. Crazed people, not crazed turtles, though that would be quite an attraction.)

(One of my best meals ever. Roti canai on the top right with the dipping curry on the top left, along with beef, chili and other assorted vegetables as the main course. Not to mention, this all came with a wonderful view of the ocean for a total cost of something like $2.85.)

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Singapore Zoo and a Strange Night at the Night Safari

With my second day in the city/state/country that is Singapore, I spent the day at the zoo, touted as one of the best in Asia, though that might not be saying all that much after hearing some horror stories about other travellers visiting zoos in China and Southeast Asia. Arriving in the midst of a tropical rainstorm, I grabbed my umbrella and braved the storm, which soon subsided as quickly as it had appeared. Apart from the typical, enjoyable zoo experience, I had two incredible encounters - the first being a chance to hand feed the four resident manatees, one of my favorite childhood animals. Surprisingly, this wasn't a popular attraction, as the rest of the audience seemed drawn to one of the shows being held at the same time, in another corner of the zoo. So, nearly alone, I paid my small fee/donation and was supplied with the feed basket. As I held out the pieces of carrot and some sort of vegetable pellets, the manatees wrapped their prickly upper lips around my fingers, pulsing methodically, moving in like a Shiatsu massager until finding the piece of food and taking it from my hand, obviously using their sense of smell instead of their poor eyesight. It was a little strange at first, but I got used to it, and I was even able to pet their thick, leathery hides while I fed them.

Second, in a random rainforest enclosure, I entered a series of door designed to keep the animals in, not knowing what I'd even see inside. Just past the door, I was greeted by a red-orange tree kangaroo - a small, wallaby sized kangaroo with a very long tail, hopping right in front of me, basically oblivious to my presence, which is probably a good thing, as I actually had a very strange nightmare about one of these while sleeping in my car in Australia a few years ago. Moving along, I saw an adorable ring-tailed lemur lurking through the trees. Excited to have spotted it, I moved on to a wooden viewing platform near the top of the hilly enclosure, and soon I was surrounded by a group of four lemurs, running along the railing, jumping in and out of the tourists, chasing each other around and even grabbing someone's red umbrella to see if it was food. I have many shows and even some zoo exhibits about these guys, but I never thought I'd be within touching distance of one, let alone have a baby one literally hop across my feet. The little grey lemurs bounded up and down the stairs, bouncing through the trees, and I even got to touch the long black and white striped tails of a few of them as they passed by. I didn't want to go as far as petting them (as some people did), since they are still supposed to be wild, but it was hard to resist.

More bouts of rain followed throughout the day, and I finished up, waiting around the entrance to the Night Safari, a separate attraction next door that opens an hour after the zoo closes. One of a kind, this place is designed to let you see some of the nocturnal animals in what is supposed to be a more natural viewing environment. A few small animals are free to move around the forested park, but most animals are enclosed in natural settings with strategic lighting, allowing you to get a somewhat dark glimpse of the animal while it goes about its natural routine. A few dark trails wind through the darkness, coming upon dimly lit habitats for lions, tigers, hyenas, and much more. It is a pretty interesting idea, and I had heard good things about it, so I figured I'd take a look while I was already in the area. As it was still raining off and on, I was one of the very few people who opted to walk the trails myself, instead of choosing a covered safari tram and huge lines of people. Content to move about the dark forest, I was having a pretty good time...for a while. All of a sudden, as I was walking along, squinting to try to pick out some sort of animal in the next opening in the forest, I barely noticed something just underfoot as I stepped down into the darkness, winding around bend after bend. Thinking it would be a small ridge in the concrete path based on the brief glimpse of my peripheral vision, that was certainly not what I felt.

I stepped down and immediately jumped away. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," I said as I looked down to see a young guy lying on the trail. I had seen this guy a few minutes earlier, far ahead of me, apparently one of the park rangers, judging by his uniform. I didn't know what he was doing on the ground, hiding from someone or something, but I definitely stepped right on his upper leg. As I continued to apologize, I realized that something was odd. Not only was he not responding, he didn't even move. Not even a little bit when I stepped on him. Given that he was a worker there and the whole atmosphere that makes things a little scary, I first thought he was playing a trick on me. So, hesitant, I bent down and asked a few times if he was ok, louder and louder each time, looking around for some friends to pop out of the woods and try to scare me. Then I shook his arms and legs, and there was absolutely no response. At this point, I started to get pretty worried, not knowing what to do next. The 20-something man was laying motionless, face down, sprawled out on the wet path, his umbrella sitting open by his side. I checked for a pulse, thinking that I did feel one, though not feeling too confident at this point, still not sure what to make of the whole scenario. I checked for any blood or signs of what may have happened, but there was nothing around. My only thought is that he must have slipped on the wet pavement and hit his head, as there is really no other explanation. I looked around for anyone else, but there was no one around. Panicking, I ran up the trail until I found another visitor, told them to go check on him/not trip on him like I did, and I ran to the entrance to get help. Luckily, within a few minutes, I got to the front of the park and found two more workers who grabbed a first aid kid and radios and ran with me back to the scene. By now, three or four other visitors were gathered around, trying to hold him up, though he was still not moving or showing any signs of life. We carried him back to the trail head where they called a rescue vehicle to take him to the park's medical center. One of the other guests kept speculating that it was an "animal strike," but the workers said that things like that "rarely happen" - not too assuring, though not my hypothesis - I still think he must have slipped on the wet path, hit his head and got knocked out by the impact.

Quietly, we put him in the back of the cart, none of us really knowing what to say about the whole situation. Then, just as they were about to pull away in their cart, there was some coughing, and the young man finally showed a tiny bit of movement and consciousness. He was coughing, slightly foaming at the mouth as he cleared his airway, still not fully conscious, but this was a welcome sign to all of us. At the same time, they sped off to take him for treatment, so I have no idea what happened to him, but it was a great relief to see him do something just before we left him. I honestly thought for a while that he might be dead. We asked around at the front of the park about his whereabouts and condition, but no one knew anything about it, so we eventually had to leave without knowing the outcome. One family assured me that he would be ok, that I did everything I could to help him and not to worry, but it's not something that's easy to get out of your mind. The bus and subway ride home were both quite somber for me, still in a bit of shock over the whole situation and wondering if I could have done anything differently.

(White tiger at the Singapore Zoo. Ironically, that was one of my nicknames in high school. No, not White Tiger. Singapore Zoo. Don't ask me why.)

(Everyone comes to see the infamous Indian in a Cage. Poor guy can't even move in there.)


(Check out the whiskers on the manatee. There is my bowl of veggie pellets and carrots in the foreground.)

(The incredible feeding only lasted about five minutes, but it was certainly a highlight for me. I wasn't allowed to touch the baby one that you see in the center.)

(Two of the crazy ring-tailed lemurs inspecting the camera and tripod. They are obviously not afraid of humans anymore.)

(Another of the lemurs, getting ready to pounce.)

(The massive Komodo dragon. I may get a chance to see these in their natural habitat in Komodo island in Indonesia, but it's hard to get there, so we'll see. If you look closely, you can see the drool coming from his mouth, filled with bacteria that often kills the prey, though it was also just discovered that the beasts also have venom glands. This guy was about seven feet long.)

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Singapore - the Beginning of Another Long Trip

Indonesia has recently been on the top of my travel list with its attractive combination of volcanoes, rice paddies, deserted beaches, good food and lack of large numbers of tourists (Bali being the exception), and since I was able to get a great deal using SkyMiles to Singapore, I figured I'd take the chance to see a few other parts of the region and work my way down to Indonesia by bus, ferry, planes, my superb swimming skills...whatever. Regardless of how you manage to get there, Singapore is a long way from Atlanta. My route took me on a 14.5 hour flight to Tokyo (luckily I had the exit row to stretch out), a 5 hour layover in Narita airport, and then a 7 hour flight to Singapore. Without any real complications, I arrived in Singapore at 1 am local time, getting through customs just in time to miss the cheap bus into town, since the subway doesn't run past midnight. So, I waited for another 70 minutes for the next one and got to my small, windowless room and into bed by about 3:30 that morning.

I spent the next morning exploring the area around my hostel - Little India. Full of small shops, colorful, pastel storefronts, aromas of curry, a few Hindu temples and even a nice-looking mosque, the neighborhood was a nice introduction to some of the culture that I'd soon be experiencing. Unfortunately, the accompanying heat and humidity also greeted me immediately upon leaving my hostel. Being just a few degrees North of the Equator, Singapore obviously has the intense tropical sun, added with something like 80% humidity, so it doesn't take long to start sweating, especially when carrying heavy backpacks. I also switched hostels to a location closer to the subway station, in an adjacent neighborhood called Kampung Glam, the home of the local Muslim population and Singapore's largest mosque, the Sultan Mosque. Literally around the corner from me stood the majestic gold plated, bulbous dome, typical of the type of mosques in the area. Later that day, I heard my first (of what will probably be many) call to prayer - a sort of drone chant spouted out through the loud speakers of the mosque, reminding all the faithful within earshot that it is one of the five times during the day at which they are supposed to pray.

For me, the main draw of Singapore is its food. Acclaimed for its mix of Chinese, Indian and Malay cultures, the resulting assortment of noodles, rice, curries and bread is hard to beat, many considering it one of the premier food destinations worldwide. In addition to the variety of the food, the nearly ubiquitous food centers around town provide endless variety at very cheap prices. These hawker centres/food centers are somewhat comparable an outdoor food court at a mall in the US. It consists of a sheltered space with anywhere from 10-50 vendors under the same roof, all selling local specialties at their tiny stalls for just a few dollars per meal with plastic tables and chairs in the middle of it all. Glorified street vendors, subject to the strict hygiene standards of harsh Singaporean law, all gathered in localized areas for ease of consumption...pretty amazing. My first meal was a Muslim-style murtabak which is basically a flat, thin omelette with some sort of bread/flour mixed in to make it a little bit flaky, drizzled with bits of ground beef and accompanied with a coconut/potato curry for dipping, all eaten under the shadow of the Sultan Mosque. Followed by various plates of noodles and chili sauce from the local food center, the food portion of my trip was off to a good start.

As for the city, I wandered through the heart of the downtown area, along the river, finding some impressive old colonial type buildings, a spiky, domed theater that looks like half of the Epcot Center implanted in the ground, a huge ferris wheel (larger than the Eye in London), and the city's symbol, the merlion, which is exactly what you might guess: a half mermaid, half lion statue on the waterfront that spouts water for no apparent reason. With no chewing gum, no spitting and other harsh laws, the city is certainly clean and safe, though it didn't quite have the uptight feel that I was expecting from this attempt at a utopian society. The vast mix of Chinese, Indian, Malay, Middle Eastern and Europeans all seem to live fairly happily together, accepting the strong arm of the government (at least on the surface).

(My first meal in Singapore - the formidable murtabak with curry dipping sauce. As you see, ground beef is a nice addition to anything. ANYTHING.)

(A colorful set of apartment blocks near Little India.)

(The picturesque mosque in the heart of Little India. Not to be confused with Little Italy.)

(The intricate facade of the mosque, with lots of Arabic script meaning absolutely nothing to me.)

(The little kid doesn't seem bothered by the heat, but trust me, it's brutal.)

(One more view of the mosque and then on to lunch at one of the hawker centres. Mmmm.)

(A street scene in Little India. That's about it.)

(The famous hawker centre. I didn't actually eat at this one. I know; it's hard to believe that I had the will power to pass through one of these without at least grabbing some noodles for a snack.)

(The Parliament House and a few of the larger buildings of the downtown colonial district. The Singapore River runs just behind this building. I could make a clever joke about the river 'running' in spite of the heat, but I won't.)

(The bridge that eventually lead me to the Merlion, though not as quickly or as easily as I had hoped. Hint: if you ever see this spot, turn left at the street ahead, not right.)

(The Merlion itself, spraying water into the harbour, with the Esplanade Theater in the background.)

(Finally, the Sultan Mosque, just around the corner from my hostel. I think you can actually tour the inside, but I was not suitably dressed. Apparently a wife beater and cut off denim shorts don't cut it for the Muslims. Would I really wear that??? Would you???)

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