Ingrid and Marcel World Journey

He Marcel uploaded some pictures today, go check out these older posts:

A night in the desert

from Singapore to Malaysia

Kuala Lumpur

Une nuit dans la jungle

2 jours de bus

Apres la jungle, on se rejouissait a l’idee de passer quelques jours sur la plage aux iles Perhentian (nord-est de la Malaysie). Evidemment on est d’une part cheapo, d’autre part on peut pas faire comme tout le monde, et si c’est trop facile c’est comme moins rigolo…. On s’est donc embarques pour aller a notre destination par autobus. On sait pas trop comment, mais on s’est ramasses a voyager non pas en bus longue distance, mais en bus local. En tape-cul local. Genre les derniers dans le siege en arriere pognes avec nos sacs a dos et le bus est plein a craquer (Marcel se sort les bras par la fenetre pour pas mourir de chaleur ou de claustrophobie) et y’a un embouteillage qui fait que ca prend 2 heures pour faire 40km.

On doit faire un arret pour la nuit, et on repart le lendemain matin. Selon les instructions du monsieur au resto le bus passe toutes les demi-heures sur la route principale, y’a qu’a se mettre au bord de la route et attendre. On se place au bord de la route et on attend. Jusqu’a ce qu’une gentille dame vienne nous montrer l’arret de bus 15m plus loin….les cons…. Et on commence a attendre…. Jusqu’a ce qu’une voiture s’arrete: un monsieur dans la quarantaine qui nous dit que le bus….ouais bien on peut attendre longtemps hein….2 heures, 3 heures….qui sait? Si on veut il nous emmene, il va par la et nous deposera a mi-chemin de notre destination. Il a l’air correct alors allez hop on met les sacs dans le coffre et on monte. Et comme on fait une bonne vie et bien le monsieur il s’appelle James, et il est vraiment gentil. Et il repond a notre bombardement de questions, il nous raconte a propos de la Malaysie, et quand on fait un arret chez McDo il nous INVITE! Et quand on arrive la ou il doit nous deposer il demande et cherche pour trouver la station de bus, et rendus la il sort de la voiture pour s’informer au comptoir et nous dire ou prendre le bus. Et quand on part je prend sa photo, Marcel sa carte avec son telephone (“en cas vous m’appelez hein?”) et il nous dit aurevoir en nous serrant fort la main….

De retour apres un long intermede avec les dernieres aventures de la jungle….

J’ai mentionne que le sentier entre l’accueil et la cache etait environ 4 km, donc une jolie marche dans la foret, curieusement pas vraiment de moustiques, assez agreable somme toute, mis a part le fait que le taux d’humidite doit etre de 98%. J’ai jamais autant sue de ma vie. Et Marcel alors…. HA! HA! HA! Quand on est arrives a la cache, il a epluche ses vetements un par un, chaussettes incluses, pour les tordre! Et il sortait pas juste 3 gouttes, je dirais en tout certain une tasse. Et c’est sans compter les bottes qu’on ne peut pas tordre, ca faisait flouc flouc quand il marchait!

Au debut du chemin d’ailleurs, on s’est arretes pour regarder un buisson de bambous immenses. Tres beau….on leve la tete pour admirer….et qu’est-ce que Marcel apercoit, “assis” tranquillement a 4m au-dessus de nous? Un joli petit serpent vert pomme! Comme il ne semblait pas faire de cas de notre presence, on ne s’est pas manifestes et on a passe notre chemin….

Jusqu’a ce que plus loin Marcel qui marchait devant s’arrete brusquement et me recule dedans. Cette fois c’etait pas dans les branches, mais a 1m devant lui sur le sentier: un serpent de 1-1.2m dresse comme pour attaquer…. L’attaque cardiaque passee Marcel s’est rendu compte que le charmant reptile avait deja la bouche pleine d’une grenouille pas encore avalee, donc pas de soucis pour nous. Mais pour la frousse c’a ete tres bien reussi. 10 sur 10 pour le serpent.

Pas besoin de dire qu’on a marche en frappant du pied le reste du temps!

Sinon au retour on a rencontre une famille qui allait visiter une caverne dans les environs, on les a suivis. Et comme la maman n’avait pas le gout d’aller explorer et Marcel non plus, elle m’a laisse sa place avec le guide. Apres des entortilles et de la boue (plutot de la merde de chauve-souris oui) sur les mains on a vue une grenouille geante (pas si geante que ca en fait, ca devait etre une petite, ou celles qu’on a entendues pendant la nuit etaient entrainees au chant) et une colonie de chauve-souris tres mignonnes. Elles ont meme acceptees que je les prennent en photo.

En sortant on etait tellement degueus…. Un jour seulement, mais ca equivaut a 1 semaine dans le bois chez-nous! On a trouve un endroit ou ils avaient une laveuse et on a fait laver nos vetements. La pauvre dame….ca sentait pas les roses hein!

Apres la capitale nous voila dans la jungle!

Au parc national Taman Negara, la plus vieille foret tropicale au monde dit-on (130 millions d’annees). Vrai ou pas, elle est vachement chic la jungle! Le premier jour on est alles prendre une marche sur le canopy walkway, une serie de passerelles totalisant 300m a 40-45m de hauteur. Assez cool de voir le monde du point de vue d’un singe! Apres on a continue et monte une colline d’ou on avait un point de vue sur les environs (des arbres). Le truc c’est pas le point de vue….c’est la marche a travers la foret incroyable pour s’y rendre! On se croirait dans Indiana Jones!! Les plantes, mais les plantes…. Des lianes immenses entortillees partout, des fougeres parasites poussant des arbres, des palmiers a epines, des arbres si hauts qu’on n’en voit pas la cime. Ca fourmille de termites qui marchent parfois 4 ou 6 de large, on dirait le croisement Henri IV-Charest a l’heure de pointe!

Mais bien sur c’est assez pour nous ca…. Il existe des caches ou on peut aller “dormir”…. :))))

On a donc loue des tapis de sol, une torche et une gamelle au magasin flottant chez Mat Leon, on a achete du gaz (ben oui….le rechaud de chez Carrefour a Oman on l’a garde….au cas-ou), des nouilles et du Nescafe et on a paquete un sac a dos. Pour 5 RM (1.70dollars) on a entrepose l’autre sac et on est partis dans la foret. La cache est pas trop loin, 4 km de l’accueil. On est arrives a temps pour souper a la clarte, puis on s’est prepares a observer…. Assis sur un banc devant la fenetre qui donne sur un ruisseau, ben on attend! Le mieux c’est les bruits! Les crapauds geants, les oiseaux, et dieu sait quelles autres creatures font des sons jamais entendus. Et c’est fort! Pour rigoler on en a nommes quelques uns…. y’a fax-modem, ah-wow, moteur-15-forces-qui-part-pas, violon, telephone engage. J’ai oublie les autres y’en avait trop. On a eu de la chance, on a reussi a voir 3 tapirs qui buvaient.

Zut mon temps internet est fini.

La suite la prochaine fois!!

After the Busride from Singapure to Kuala Lumpur we were kicked out of the bus in front of a hotel. Somewhere in the middle of the city. Eelin and mat gave us a citymap (lucky us). With this map we could find the tourist information after a 20 minutes walk. The good thing was the AC in the building. After we spoke to the person there we headed up in the rush hour in the sky train (Eelin told us before in Singapore, don’t be swiss.. Push to get in or out.) to Chinatown. Because the Hotels are cheaper and the food of course more “local”. We found a hotel for a OK price just in front of the Chinatown mainroad. (cool spot to smoke and watch the people down there.)

The first few hours we/I saw everywhere someone who wants to steal our wallet/phone/camera 🙂 after that we started to enjoy chinatown more and more. Especially the food is jammy. Then we started to explore KL. Knowing us walking of course. The big surprise is, KL is actually quite small. To go to the towers/center, museums, shopping malls  everything is within 30 to 45 minutes walk. We like to get the pulse of a city and this works well in walking speed. After a few days KL is quite “too normal” so nothing to add. We bought a Travel guide for malaysia went to the local bus station and headed up towards the oldest  rainforest/jungle in the world. (two bus-versions possible 7.– or 30.– of course we took the local without AC for 7.–)

Leaving Oman was easy enough, Rashid dropped us off at the airport at the evening, where we took a plane to Mumbai at 00h45. We got lucky, we asked simply if we could have a window seat and they upgraded us to business class for free, cool.

The hard part was the transit…. No visa for India + cheap ticket = 19h to waste in the airport in Mumbai. Luckily we could go into a lounge where they had food and drinks, internet, a few reclining seats, all for free. So don’t ask me how is India, I only saw the 4 walls of the lounge. You may want to ask Marcel, who had to cross the airport to another “lounge” to smoke and had interesting encounters with the guy in charge there. I can only say convicing him to go back to India would prove to be a challenge….I won’t try it for now.

Anyways, we did of course finally land in Singapore, where our old neighbours from Egetswil Mat & Eelyn now live. They welcomed us with open arms and took us to all the cool places in Singapore and introduced us to a few highlights of the asian culture…. We had bubble tea (a cold drink of milky iced tea with huge tapioca balls in it, yum!), took a foot bath with munching fish (it’s freaky the 1st dip, but afterwards really funny tickling, the little fish eat the dead skin on your feet!), had lunch like the locals at a food court (at the ground level of every housing estate there is such an assortment of basic counters with yummy local food), learned about the existence of durian (a local fruit that stinks so much it’s forbidden in the public areas in Singapore). We had a great time with our friends, and after Eelyn equipped us with maps, Malaysian money and instructions we boarded the bus to Kuala Lumpur 2 days later.

After leaving the desert we did head out to the coast to watch giant green turtles nesting.

When we arrived at the reception hall we were offered a room at an exhorbitant price and anyways we had all the gear so we figured we’d just camp in the neighbourhood. Next to the lodge there was a field of rocks and hardened dirt where we were showed to to install our tent. We found a spot where we figured there was not too much wind and rocks, and started to clear the area. Marcel tells me to watch out when lifting rocks, that scorpions like to hide there during the day….he lifts himself one or two, and hallo! Here is the first scorpion! A tiny one, but nevertheless, a SCORPION!! I decide to change my sandals for boots and we manage to get the tent up and cook some water for noodles in the blowing wind that’s getting stronger by the minute. We sit down and start to slurp our noodles, when I see something crawling in our direction from underneath the tent…. YES!! But this time a HUGE one! About 8 cm long, black. Beurk! I’d like to say I kept my cool and reacted very reasonably. But no, I was not reasonable. After some screams and tears we finished our dinner and then went for the guided tour on the beach to watch the turtles which was really impressive. When we came back we hopped in the tent and spent the worst night. It was so windy we thought our tent was going to fly away with us in it. Luckily we go away with just one broken post and baggy eyes before starting our drive along the coast in direction south.

We had thought camping would be easy, but figured out the wind was not only at the turtles beach but basically everywhere on the coast, so we had to go further south before finding an idyllic spot right besides the sea. An empty beach close with only lots of cute crabs, we thought. Until we looked closer at the tracks in the sand and figured out they were not all of crabs. Viva el telefono, with Mike’s help our suspicions were confirmed, the gazillions of funny tracks were those of scorpions. Hourra!

From then on the whole camping idea took another dimension…. Organise all before dark, watch every step where you put your feet at night, don’t leave stuff out on the ground at night, etc. Actually we got used to it, never saw again so many tracks but were careful nevertheless. The next week was spent visiting the south of Oman, camping on a deserted beach again. It’s really amazing, they have these hundreds of kilometers of beach, totally empty. The light breeze in the night, watching the moon over the sea before closing our eyes to sleep. Smile.

Back in Muscat to give the car back we called Rashid to give him our camping stuff, and after going to dinner with him and a friend of his he invited us to spend the next day at his place while we waited for our plane to leave at night. So we spent our last day in Oman at his house, lounging on cushions and talking and eating and talking some more. It was a wonderful day. We’d never thought we’d make friends there, but sometimes the best things do happen in life.

Als Ingrid und ich vor zwei Jahren die ersten Informationen ueber die moeglichen Destinationen unserer Reise zusammensuchten, sprang uns Oman in die Augen.

Wir haben sodann Buecher gekauft, gelesen und im Internet gesucht.

Was wir gelesen hatten war vielversprechend, aber wir haetten nie gedacht, das dieses Land so Genial sein koennte.

Die Leute sind einfach “natuerlich nett” nicht schei.. freundlich. Kaum zu glauben, das gibt es wirklich

Das Land hat Kilometerlange  weisse Sandstraende (LEER… kein Mensch), Berge bis 3000 m hoch und Wadis. ein Wadi ist ein Flussbett, welches Trocken sein kann, aber auch wasser zum Baden mit Palmen ueberall.

Die Temperatur kann 50 Grad in der Schlucht und 30 Grad (genial mit frischem wind) auf dem Berg sein.

Die Strassen durch EIN Tal (Wadi Bani AWF) war das Abenteuerlichste, was ich erlebt habe. Wenn du dich fuer diese Strasse entschieden hast, gibt es kein zurrueck und kein anhalten, da du rueckwaerts rutschen wuerdest, sobald du die Bremse trittst. Dass ein Auto ueberhaubt solche Steigungen bewaeltigen kann ist Wahnsinn (4 Rad antrieb, Untersetzung und im ersten Gang) . Genau ein Auto breit, Sand mit Steinen und Loecher, eine Seite der Berg und die andere Seite niiiiiichts.  Den ganzen  Weg hatte ich ein Laecheln im Gesicht :-). Wir hatten Glueck, dass uns nur zweimal ein Auto entgegen kam, aber jedesmal an einer “breiten” Stelle.

Die Wueste hat mehr Fech Fech (luftiger Sand, wo das Auto reinfaellt, als ob es ein Loch waere. Zu Fuss versinkt man bis zur Huefte) als man sich wuenscht. Ich wuerde trotz Namibia Erfahrung ziemlich alt aussehen. Buddeln, Buddeln und Buddeln 🙂

Rashid der Beduine kam ein paarmal rein, hat aber einen coolen trick, um wieder raus zu kommen (muss ich ueben)

Das Benzin kostet 40 Rp. waere sogar fuer Fordchen (Auto in Namibia) billig.

Ah und Mike auch die Omanis sagen, der alte Land Cruiser ist das beste Fahrzeug.

Long time no write….what have we been doing in the last 2 weeks?

After figuring out we would not go very far with public transportation here we rented a car. We went to Carrefour and bought camping gear and food, packed the 4×4 for 2 weeks of driving everywhere around Oman: 4700 km of highway, dirt roads, mountain tracks and sand dunes.

(Here I would love to insert pics to avoid the 1000 words, but this will have to wait a day or two, so be patient and come back on the site soon).

After 3 days exploring around Nizwa (200 km west of Muscat, inland) we headed to the Wahiba sands. No way was I going to come to Oman and not go to the desert for at least one night. End of June is way off season here (too hot, too hot, too hot) but we still tried our luck with calling a desert camp, asking if they could take us….tonight. They had no other guests but still organised to welcome us, and an hour or so later our guide Rashid met us at an agreed point with his brother Abdallah. After a hello and a hand shake Rashid gets behind the wheel of our 4×4 while his brother goes back to the camp. He drives on the tar road for a few hundred meters before abruptly turning off towards, euh, nothing, just a desert field. There is no road, no signs, but he still finds his way to his cousin’s where the race camels are kept (yup, camel races). Just in time to see how they feed them: alfalfa which is weighed on a scale to make sure they all get the same portion, milk and raw dates. The camels are a bit bigger then they looked from the car earlier on…. Since they are eating they are not overly friendly but still let us socialise a bit.

Afterwards we set out to drive to the desert camp….what an ride! Rashid is a modern beduin….he’s a professionnal at driving the 4×4 through the sand dunes, going up and down huge piles of sand, places you think it’s 100% impossible we’ll get out of. Every time we think he’s going to get us stuck in sand he revs up the engine, twirls the car around and leads us further into the desert. We make a stop on top of a high dune to watch the sunset; the view is magnificient….golden dunes of fine sand as far as the eye can see, the warm wind blowing across your face, no sign of human life in sight. (breathe in the karma).

After a while we go to the camp where we are showed to our hut made of palm leaves which let the wind through. Rashid asks us if we’d like to sleep outside (of course we accept) and organises that some beds are set up next to the hut. We are then invited to tea, sitting down on persian rugs with cushions and discussing about life with Rashid. Dinner follows, then Abdullah lights a campfire and we have dates and arabian coffee aromatised with cardamom while watching the fire. We smoke shisha and talk into the night with our hosts under the stars. When we are tired we retire to our beds but still have trouble finding sleep under the sky so full of stars right above our heads. Flying stars wave down at us while a cool breeze rocks us to sleep.

The next morning we get up to meet our beduin guide for breakast and talk some more, then he drives us back to town, making a stop for us to see how a family is preparing dates to be conserved for a season by cooking and drying them under the sun. It’s now time to inflate the tires, leave the sand dunes behind us and head back to the coast to watch giant green turtles laying eggs.

We are there! And Oman is so oohh and haaa I don’t even know where to start.

With the way they dress? Men in a dishdasha with either a small turban or a kumma, women in the city with a black overdress and veil with broderie and those in the country with beautiful prints and colors.

With the animals? OK, this is an easy one: goats, more goats, and today we sighted our first camels! They’re hilarious with their bump on the back, their bubbly eyes sticking out and their big lips which they use to grab the leaves from bushes. And they’re small. I thought a camel was like two storey high or something. These ones looked like they were about my height with bump. We’ll see in the next few days, tomorrow we should spend the night in a desert camp (complete with sand dunes) and get to see one close up. Oh yeah, we also saw stray dogs on top of a hill we climbed in Muscat (to some giant incense burner from where is a nice view). My reaction: ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Run! Help! Maese!  Marcel’s reaction: establish himself as their boss within 3.5 seconds and make them leave. My heroe.

With the toilets? Well, for your knowledge, it’s true about not giving the left hand…. In hotels where they expect foreigners there is also paper, but anywhere else there is only a shower head next to the toilet. I still haven’t exactly figured out how this is supposed to work. Like, do you stay sitting on the toilet and shower your bum somehow from inside the bowl, or do you lift the bum and try to aim the shower head precisely and try not to splash the whole room? And once you’re done, you just walk around with a wet bum and it drips down your legs? No clue.

With food? It’s yummy. There are lots of Indian immigrants here so most of the restaurants have indian currys and masalas and other such good spicy dishes. As far as arabic food goes we can still only pronounce “shawerna dagag”, so we’ve been eating kebab sandwishes for a week. Funny detail: instead of napkins they set a box of kleenex on the table. And since they like to wash hands before and after meals there is often a lavabo in the restaurant itself in a corner.

With small special events? That would be too long. The kids climbed up in the trees picking fruits who shouted to us “how are you! how are you!” on a lost mountain road. Or the way we are sometimes showed to the “family room” in restaurants (a separate section where families and women are to go to). The man we saw climbing up  palm tree to pick dates the other morning. The 6 camels riding in the back of a pick up truck, taking it easy.

No, I know. With the temperature. It is so amazingly hot I still can not believe it, every day, every single time I step outside. The standard temperature is around 42-44C. In Muscat there was 80% humidity (I was greeted out of the airplane with glasses fogging up). Here inland it is dryer, but a bit warmer. We hit 50C twice already. It’s like when you open the door of your oven to slide your chicken in and the hot air blows in your face. Always.

Actually no. With this one event, so unbelievable…. We were invited to a wedding. You read properly, a wedding! We were having food at the coffee shop one evening and out comes Chen (a guy staying in our hotel who speaks approximately 25 words of English) to get us to go with him to a “Omani paty”. We follow him down back alleys and reach a someone’s backyard which has been covered with carpets and there is people playing music and dancing outside. We approach a bit shyly, curious but also wanting to be respectful. And then a man invites us in, explains this is a fest for his son’s wedding. He has people make space for us, gets us drinks. I get to stand with the girls all dressed up and beautiful looking, with henna tatooed on their hands and feet, they get me to dance with them around the groom. I am so overwhelmed I could cry. Then they set up food for us to eat. Then when the party is over they invite us for the next day (wedding ceremonies last 3 days). So we postpone our departure with the rental car and stay the day, then we attend the evening’s party. This time it’s in a hall, again no chairs or tables, persian carpets cover the floor with cushions on the side. (Actually at the moment we pass the door we are informed this is women only, so Marcel turns around and has to wait in the car for about 2 hours) All the ladies arrive slowly and great each other, family members are dressed in traditionnal dresses (the colours, the broderie, the shimmery, the glittery, they all look like they stepped out of the 1001 nights) and the other friends in black. And I sit there with my pink shirt and my grey convertible pants and watch as a band plays music and the young ones graciously dance. They pass water around, and later on pop drinks and sandwiches. And around 22h30 the future husband enters with the men and the women of his family. There is rituals like rubbing his feet with a henna and spices paste, dropping bills of money on his head and receiving a gift of perfume, every one of the family going to get their pictures taken with him, etc. Around 00h00 we decide it’s time to go and have about an hour to say our goodbyes, receiving drinks and food from our hosts, invitations for the next day and telephone numbers. What more can I say? Overwhelming.