Never a dull moment when we ride with Sky
by: john paul low
70 kilometres from Gelang Patah, the morning country air assailed our nostrils. Our opened full-faced helmets directed the familiar smell of fresh cowdung deep into our bronchial tubes, dispelling the last notions of sleep in our eyes. To our left and about 100 metres off the northbound North-South Highway, was the source: cows from A Majid Farm going about their morning routine of grazing and chewing the cud.
It jolted my mind to the time in 1996 when I was taking a morning stroll in a village on the outskirts of the Royal Chitwan National Park in Nepal. The main tracks in the village were pockmarked with freshly-dropped cowdung and walking became like an exercise of survival through a minefield. But as a photographer, I did find these concentric mounds fascinating enough to drop to my knees to capture one for posterity. Later, I included some elephant dung pictures in my collection for good measure..
Sky Yeo was leading on his newly-acquired ZXR400 while Kelly, his wife, was sweeping on a Beemer. Stretched out over 500 metres somewhere between them were 8 other bikers – 3STs (Eric Yeo riding two-up with Valerie; Kevin Teo with Brooks and the writer), 1 Dominator (Chris Mah), 2 Goldwings (David Ong riding two-up with Nellie and John Kwa), 1 Vmax (Jason) and 1 TL1000 (Serene) – no doubt, lured by Sky’s promise of “the best chilli crabs in Ipoh”. What a change, as we rode for 5 kilometres through a mist-enveloped, almost surrealistic scene which we first thought was haze with the rich-orange coloured sun behind us.
“Never a dull moment when we ride with Sky,” I thought as the first sip of Pagoh R&R teh-tarek lifted my enthusiasm further. I checked my handphone: ‘1 message received’.
It’s 0745 hrs; now who could that be? “At Kulai town, tyre puncture, waiting 4 tyre shop to open.”
15 minutes later, before even the first message had sunk in, another message came in from Sky: “John, u guys take your time for breakfast. We will be there in no time.”
Some of us remembered Sky marking the first turn-off northwards to KL and a little further on the road shoulder, we had noticed Kelly, unsaddled, and beside her Beemer; but both had waved us on. At our first stop at Pagoh R&R, we had waited but saw no sign of both of them. 5 minutes into an animated discussion, Sky was on the phone with me, telling us to proceed to Dengkil R&R. By 1045 hrs, we were at Dengkil downing another welcome glass of beverage or cold drinks and tucking in more sustenance for our bodies.
“Where’s Chris and his Dominator?” a puzzled Serene asked; even Kevin was baffled. Some of us thought he had gone straight ahead into KL instead of turning into the KLIA exit. Others speculated that he might have headed on to Tapah R&R! Serene did the next best thing; she called his handphone. No response! She sent an SMS. No response! Since Sky had issued the itinerary to all of us, we were confident that he would find his way to Tapah.
I checked. Another message from Sky at 1030 hrs: “We have arrived safely at Pagoh. Heading towards Dengkil. Pls proceed. Don’t have 2 wait 4 us. Meet as we go along.”
As was our routine, we topped up at the petrol station, and surprise of all surprises, Chris Mah and his Dominator were patiently waiting for us! Somehow, he had gone ahead of Kevin and thought we were stopping at the petrol station.
With our Sky and Kelly trailing us by one R&R stop, Kevin swung into the lead while others like Eric Yeo and Serene marked the turns. Happily bringing up the rear, though not by choice, was Jason on his Vmax. Attired in jeans and a denim shirt with rolled-up sleeves, Jason aka the Bananaman, felt the buffeting effects of the wind so badly that he was riding at an average speed of 100 kmph. He arrived at Tapah R&R 20 minutes behind us pointing to his sore left knee.
“I can’t go any faster,” he explained apologetically while gently nursing his knee, “the wind is blasting my chest and legs.” I lent him my Dainese knee and shin protector and we spoke at length on proper riding gear while Kevin advised him that the Vmax was far from the ideal touring bike. Somehow, Jason learnt fast and after some quick calculation, had set his mind on a used ST.
The afternoon sun must have delivered a scorching 32 degrees at Tapah R&R as Jason and John Kwa stretched out flat on their backs for a quick 40 winks. At my table, Kevin, Serene and Brooks were happily tucking in their third fried chicken thigh, steamed groundnuts and Coke. Unable to resist a good snack, Eric and Valerie wolfed down two large pieces of high cholesterol, finger-licking fried kampong chicken, after which, Valerie promptly dozed off at the table.
At 1330 hrs. the familiar roar of a ZXR400 broke the monotonous din at the R&R. Even the enervating heat was momentarily forgotten.
“Hey, sorry ah, sorry ah,” smiled the harassed Sky.
“Walau, backside pain. Iron butt ride, man,” enjoined Kelly, rubbing her sore behind as if to underscore her point.
Without giving them a chance to rest their sore butts or quench their parched lips, we surrounded the couple, waiting impatiently to hear from the man himself. Sky didn’t disappoint. The man had picked up two nails in his tyre while Kelly’s Beemer had been wobbling mysteriously and it was only at the Kulai toll that a kind lady had drawn her attention to the fact that her rear tyre was literally falling apart. The brand new Bridgestone BT57 was being ripped apart. Somehow, by the grace of God, both of them had managed to struggle to Kulai unscathed and unrattled by the experience.
“Kulai now has its first Beemer on display,” laughed Sky with not the least sign of disappointment. He had called the Singapore supplier and they had agreed to replace the tyre for free. After his own ZXR400 tyre was fixed, he rode two-up with Kelly. Several kilometres later, he discovered he had forgotten an item in the Beemer’s luggage box! So he headed south, picked up his precious cargo and charged northwards again for Pagoh. From 170 kmph, he had slowed down to a decent 128 kmph after he saw the flashing headlights of on-coming cars on the south-bound highway. “It took me a while to realise why they were flashing their lights,” he explained.
Then just 500 metres from Pagoh R&R, traffic slowed to a crawl. The all-too-familiar red and white cones on the road, tapered highway vehicles into a single lane and Sky stared right into the reflective light green safety vests of the traffic police officers flagging offending motorists to the side. “Can settle anywhere. Johor also can,” the officer had instructed him as he scribbled on the summons paper.
“Can settle here or not?” Sky asked meekly when he realised the consequences of a written summons.
The officer looked around warily before blurting out, “RM50”. Before you could utter Jack Robinson, Sky and Kelly were astride their ZXR and storming towards Dengkil. Never a dull moment indeed, when you ride with Sky, you would agree.
We exited Simpang Pulai and Sky led us to Kellie’s Castle. The merciless heat had left us dehydrated and the cold drinks at the little café never tasted better. He explained that Kellie’s castle was built in the early 1900s by a rich Englishman who had owned the land and the sprawling rubber plantations. He had imported estate labourers from India to work his plantations. Once the castle was completed, he had sailed to England to fetch his wife to live in his prize castle. But it was not to be because he died on the trip. Then strangely, his labourers began to die under bizarre circumstances. A Hindu temple was quickly erected about 500 metres away and the unexplained deaths stopped. Those of us who are familiar with the Taj Mahal in India will remember that Shah Jehan built this monolithic structure as an expression of his love for his wife. Unfortunately, he died before he could see his wish fulfilled.
In Ipoh, lunch was at 1545 hrs and we got to relish the best chicken, bean sprouts, noodles and lime juice. At RM8.00 a person, the meal was a steal as the mountain of fattened bean sprouts and tender, glossy-white chicken meat were quickly devoured with relish. Chris Mah told us that the best char kway teow in Ipoh was just next door. We were taken in and there was talk at the table that we should come back for supper once our chilli and black-peppered crabs had been properly digested.
“You’re an Ipohrean, ah?” Kevin had asked Chris innocently.
“Got such a thing called Ipohrean, meh?” someone at the table shot back. We laughed at his definition, trying not to choke on the smooth chicken skin and well-balanced sauce. Chris hails from Ipoh and had seized this opportunity to visit his folks in Ipoh.
The Casuarina ParkRoyal Hotel was a welcome sight as we rode in and parked our bikes on the kerb. Thoughts of an extended warm shower and a soft caressing mattress for our aching backs and the soothing air-conditioning prompted us to park our machines in double quick time. David Ong as usual, was meticulously covering his much-treasured pearl-white Goldwing while Serene waited patiently for Kevin to park her screaming red TL1000 next to my ST.
“I want a double bed,” emphasised David to Sky, extending both hands away from his chest to indicate what a double should look like.
“Me too,” added Eric to the amusement of all of us in the lobby. For a moment, we wondered why they were so insistent on a double bed and not two singles instead. Did it really make a difference? The rest of us were happy to have a bed to lie in. Then it struck us that the reason was pretty simple enough.
Jason roomed alone partly because Chris was staying with his family and would join us that evening for the crabs. “I don’t mind sleeping alone,” the computer science graduate was to explain later. “I snore and it is not fair to my room-mate. It’s OK for me to pay more.”
My room-mate John Kwa and I hit the bed the moment we had dumped our belongings neatly in the room. We were in Slumberland gently snoring away even before we could count 20 sheep!
Kevin, Serene and Brooks made their rounds of the nearby shopping complex while Jason did some relaxing laps of the hotel pool.
The jarring ringing of the phone rudely interrupted our siesta and reluctantly looked at my watch. It was 1900 hrs and Jason was on the line. John Kwa was still asleep undeterred by the ringing and my unhurried conversation with Jason.
“Come over when you’re ready,” I said to the chatty Jason.
After a quick shower, I was absorbed in watching the news on TV3: “the Malaysian police had raided several outlets selling illegal VCDs; the situation in Kalimantan had deteriorated and the Dayaks were on a rampage systematically wiping out the Madurese population. Some gory scenes of the brutal killings and blood-letting flashed across the screen. A ship had been despatched to evacuate the fleeing refugees.”
Jason strode in all dressed up with nowhere to go. I noticed he was proudly wearing the Dainese knee and shin protector I had lent him. John Kwa awoke from his nap and there we were – Jason and I in our armchairs and John Kwa sitting up in bed chatting animatedly on every topic that took our fancy. I thought we had a fruitful time engrossed in conversation.
The phone screamed again and this time it was Sky. My goodness, it was already 2100 hrs and we had to leave for our chilli crab dinner. It had been 1hr 30 min since Jason came into our room! John Kwa jumped out of bed and sprinted for the bath. In 5 minutes he was done remembering as he did, to pepper himself with the prickly heat powder he had brought along.
The others had readied their bikes and their pungent exhaust emissions drifted into the cool evening air. Luckily, we didn’t need to offer a thousand apologies to placate our waiting bikers. Sky led us to a location on the outskirts of Ipoh town. The locals were familiar with this dining haven but uninformed visitors often are not even aware of its existence.
It is the equivalent of our hawker centres but probably not as upmarket or clean. We managed to find two tables despite the never-ending crowds of diners streaming in for an evening of gastronomic delights. The plate of ‘chuip-chuip’ came first. This was a small spiral shell with a tiny slug that had to be sucked out – hence its name. They seem to be denizens of mangrove swamps or brackish waters. The gravy tasted marvellous but to get at the slug required an effort.
“You place the larger opening on your lips and suck hard at the smaller end. Release the suction and the slug will shoot out of the shell,” Kevin instructed a puzzled Brooks. Two other plates of sea-shell slugs appeared in quick succession. I have never seen these on the menu of our seafood outlets in Singapore. One required a sharpened bamboo pick, something akin to our satay sticks, to pry out the slug inside, dip it in chilli sauce before we could savour the chewy crustacean which tasted like the Pacific clams.
‘Buy 3 large Heineken Beers and get 1 small one free’ I pointed out the poster to those at our table. “Yeah, what is seafood without beer,” agreed Kevin who promptly placed the order while the demure Serene footed the bill. “My treat,” she announced. Just as Kevin, Serene, John Kwa, Jason and I raised our glasses, the plate of chilli crabs arrived right on cue. The gravy tasted out of this world, totally different from the chilli crab sauce we are so familiar with in Singapore. It came with little plastic spoons for us to drink in the sauce!
Jason went for the shell, topping it up with the superb gravy while the claws mysteriously disappeared. We agreed it was fantastic and simply couldn’t resist another plate. True enough, Sky had taken that into consideration and the next moment a steaming-hot plate of black pepper crabs with roe appeared. The Ipoh version is conspicuously different from the overpowering and bitingly-hot black pepper crabs here. They was not as spicy and came topped with just the right touch of sweet sauce to enamel the black pepper to the shell and meat. John Kwa found it a little too sweet though he thoroughly enjoyed it. The roe on the crabs was the best part and I ended up picking up every tiny bit of them from the plate.
Those at my table took a short stroll after our sumptuous seafood dinner to help the food go down better. There was not much to see or shop. I bought 1 kg of duku-langsat and 4 pieces of VCD. Sky’s group stay glued to their table for another 25 minutes relishing every morsel of the famous Ipoh chilli and black-pepper crabs while we waited good-naturedly at our bikes for them! At RM20.00 per head, who’s complaining.
It was already 2330 hrs when we sauntered into our rooms. John Kwa, Jason and I finished the 1 kg of duku-langsat once again, amidst the lively chatter of conversation that filled the room. Kelly stopped by to issue us our breakfast vouchers. By 0100 hrs, it was time for counting sheep, with Jason’s snoring no doubt rocking the four walls of room 419.
By 0740 hrs the next morning, Jason was on the phone explaining that he was ready for breakfast - my goodness, at that early hour, but it was not until one hour later that John Kwa and I
decided that it was time to rise-and-shine.
David and Nellie being the early birds, picked a table for eight and Eric, Valerie and the three of us joined them at the table. Soon, the others who were sufficiently rested, made their appearance and our two tables filled quickly with Taiwan porridge, toast, sausages, chicken ham, fruit juices, beverages, eggs, fruits, curry chicken and nasi lemak. Some of us had three helpings from the breakfast spread and as was evident, camaraderie and bonding prevailed.
At 1130 hrs, we were all geared up and heading for the Sam Poh Tong Chinese Temple, a 10 minute ride away. The temple is built into the limestone cave and already, there were crowds of devotees when we arrived. John Kwa, Jason and I exhausted ourselves climbing the steps to reach the top while David prudently decided to turn back and join the others resting comfortably in the shade. Certain sections of the stairs were in darkness and we had to be careful where we placed our feet. We huffed and puffed once we stood at the top, perspiration running copiously down our faces and arms. The 120 kg Jason shared that he had trekked up five mountains in Malaysia and had gone caving as well. Thankfully, Chinese tea and filtered mineral water from a dispenser quenched our thirst when we came down.
Gua Tempurong (Tempurong Cave) in Perak was used by the communists as their hideout during the 12-year Malayan Emergency which started in 1948 explained the Bananaman. Today, adventure treks of varying skill levels are conducted to explore the limestone caves. Sky, Kelly, John Kwa, Eric and Valerie gamely paid RM6.00 each for a 40-minute trek while the rest of us feasted on ‘mangis hutan’ and fresh lotus seeds from two sprigs of the lotus plant, courtesy of Serene again. After an hour, our caving trekkers emerged fatigued and swathed in perspiration. If you had seen David, you would have thought he had gone for a swim! His polo t-shirt was drenched in perspiration. Nellie was rightfully concerned that he might catch a cold and advised him to change into a dry t-shirt.
“Whatever you do, don’t trek in riding gear,” said an enervated Sky as he squeezed out the last drops in the can of 100 Plus.
We rode the narrow 1km of dusty and loose gravel track and another 3 km of tarred road which led us back to the main road. It was already 1330 hrs as the eight bikers headed south for Telok Intan just 95 km away. As we marked the first junction, we counted only six. At the earlier junction, a lorry had honked at David and as he tried to keep to the left, had lost his footing in the gravel and dropped his Goldwing! Luckily, both David and Nellie were unhurt and Eric and Valerie were on hand to help out.
It was another 50 km down the southbound NSH that we turned into Telok Intan but we had to ride another 40 km on a narrow main road before we saw any indication of the town. Telok Intan town looks just like another laid-back small Malaysian town but there were several petrol stations within a 1 km radius. As Serene marked the junction, we parked our bikes on the main thoroughfare under the shade of some large trees. Gosh, the sun was hot! We waited for the last two bikers …… the minutes ticked by; still no sign of them. Then our watches showed twenty minutes, and still there was no sign of David’s Goldwing and Bananaman’s Vmax.
Kevin rode his ST to the junction and after a quick conversation, hopped onto Serene’s TL1000 and took off in search of the pair. The rest of us speculated that David and Bananaman could have taken a wrong turn because we were ahead of them. Others thought the Vmax could have run out of petrol and because there was only one Esso station on that 40 km stretch, he could be pushing his bike!
Half an hour later, the familiar Vmax and the pearl white Goldwing cruised nonchalantly towards where we were. David later explained that he had stopped at a petrol station just 1 km from where we were because he wasn’t sure if he was heading in the right direction. So the next best thing he did was to pull out his handphone and call Kevin. He heard a strange tone, he said and thought Kevin’s phone was switched off. At that moment, the TL1000 zoomed past but Kevin had not noticed that both bikers were at the petrol station. Bananaman took off in pursuit of Kevin and the rest is history. An embarassed David gave us a good laugh when he revealed that he had forgotten to include the prefix ‘02’ to the phone number!
At 1415 hr our bikes were neatly parked in front of the Leaning Pagoda, right in the middle of the town. Lunch was at a hawker centre just across the road and as we settled down to ‘mee rebus’, Pattaya fried rice, tom-yam soup, mixed vegetables and ice-kachang, our lively conversations added flavour to our meal. By 1515 hr, we were heading south once again for Seremban R&R.
Bananaman agony was not yet over; as a matter of fact, he had another eight hours of tortuous riding. Cruising at between 100 – 110 kmph because of the wind, the Vmax was way behind the others. I followed behind him and for long stretches, I tried to entice him into going a little faster but to no avail. It was getting riskier by the minute for me – I was finding it extremely difficult to keep my eyes open. Several times, both my upper and lower eyelids met!
AT Seremban R&R, Bananaman decided that he didn’t want to hold back the group any longer. “You guys go ahead. I’ll find my way back. The wind is giving me a lot of problems.” We waited for him to down the can of Red Bull before bidding him a safe ride home.
Sky and Kelly, too, broke formation. “We’ll meet you chaps at Perling for dinner. We have to get back and pick up Chris from the baby-sitter’s. It’s late,” he explained.
“Do you think it would rain?” I heard Valerie asking me.
Like the good weatherman who gets his projects right only 30% of the time, I shot back, “No, it won’t; the sky’s bright.”
Five minutes into riding at 150 kmph and with Pagoh R&R in mind, the heavens opened up. On came our hazard lights and down went our speed. At certain stretches, visibility was no more than 15 metres. But all of us knew exactly what we had to do: “Think Safety”.
As the torrential rain tapered off, a group of F1 and Hayabusa riders took us by surprise. As they rode up beside us, they dropped a gear and screamed away at 180 or 200 kmph, all this while, zipping between the cars, buses and trailers on the highway. Even Sky, who was way ahead of us, was caught by surprise. He heard the high performance screams and before he knew it, the superbikes were 200 metres in front of him!
After another top-up at Pagoh R&R, we were glad to see the toll before Perling. Sky had warned us at Seremban R&R that the main road at Perling was under repair and granite pebbles were strewn across every part of the road. “Be careful and slow down,” he had advised.
We got through safely and before long we were tucking into ‘wantan noodles’ - courtesy of Serene; satay – courtesy of Sky and Kelly; and lime juice. Yes, you guessed right: Baby Chris was there gurgling and smiling at everyone, but of course, he saved the best for Mum and Dad.
“So does he call mummy and daddy?” I asked Sky.
“No, not yet, but we’re trying to get him to do so,” beamed the proud parents. Anyone interested in Singapore’s Baby Bonus?
It was near midnight when we rode the short distance to Gelang Patah and surprise of all surprises: Bananaman was there on his Vmax. Talk about timing!
by: john paul low
70 kilometres from Gelang Patah, the morning country air assailed our nostrils. Our opened full-faced helmets directed the familiar smell of fresh cowdung deep into our bronchial tubes, dispelling the last notions of sleep in our eyes. To our left and about 100 metres off the northbound North-South Highway, was the source: cows from A Majid Farm going about their morning routine of grazing and chewing the cud.
It jolted my mind to the time in 1996 when I was taking a morning stroll in a village on the outskirts of the Royal Chitwan National Park in Nepal. The main tracks in the village were pockmarked with freshly-dropped cowdung and walking became like an exercise of survival through a minefield. But as a photographer, I did find these concentric mounds fascinating enough to drop to my knees to capture one for posterity. Later, I included some elephant dung pictures in my collection for good measure..
Sky Yeo was leading on his newly-acquired ZXR400 while Kelly, his wife, was sweeping on a Beemer. Stretched out over 500 metres somewhere between them were 8 other bikers – 3STs (Eric Yeo riding two-up with Valerie; Kevin Teo with Brooks and the writer), 1 Dominator (Chris Mah), 2 Goldwings (David Ong riding two-up with Nellie and John Kwa), 1 Vmax (Jason) and 1 TL1000 (Serene) – no doubt, lured by Sky’s promise of “the best chilli crabs in Ipoh”. What a change, as we rode for 5 kilometres through a mist-enveloped, almost surrealistic scene which we first thought was haze with the rich-orange coloured sun behind us.
“Never a dull moment when we ride with Sky,” I thought as the first sip of Pagoh R&R teh-tarek lifted my enthusiasm further. I checked my handphone: ‘1 message received’.
It’s 0745 hrs; now who could that be? “At Kulai town, tyre puncture, waiting 4 tyre shop to open.”
15 minutes later, before even the first message had sunk in, another message came in from Sky: “John, u guys take your time for breakfast. We will be there in no time.”
Some of us remembered Sky marking the first turn-off northwards to KL and a little further on the road shoulder, we had noticed Kelly, unsaddled, and beside her Beemer; but both had waved us on. At our first stop at Pagoh R&R, we had waited but saw no sign of both of them. 5 minutes into an animated discussion, Sky was on the phone with me, telling us to proceed to Dengkil R&R. By 1045 hrs, we were at Dengkil downing another welcome glass of beverage or cold drinks and tucking in more sustenance for our bodies.
“Where’s Chris and his Dominator?” a puzzled Serene asked; even Kevin was baffled. Some of us thought he had gone straight ahead into KL instead of turning into the KLIA exit. Others speculated that he might have headed on to Tapah R&R! Serene did the next best thing; she called his handphone. No response! She sent an SMS. No response! Since Sky had issued the itinerary to all of us, we were confident that he would find his way to Tapah.
I checked. Another message from Sky at 1030 hrs: “We have arrived safely at Pagoh. Heading towards Dengkil. Pls proceed. Don’t have 2 wait 4 us. Meet as we go along.”
As was our routine, we topped up at the petrol station, and surprise of all surprises, Chris Mah and his Dominator were patiently waiting for us! Somehow, he had gone ahead of Kevin and thought we were stopping at the petrol station.
With our Sky and Kelly trailing us by one R&R stop, Kevin swung into the lead while others like Eric Yeo and Serene marked the turns. Happily bringing up the rear, though not by choice, was Jason on his Vmax. Attired in jeans and a denim shirt with rolled-up sleeves, Jason aka the Bananaman, felt the buffeting effects of the wind so badly that he was riding at an average speed of 100 kmph. He arrived at Tapah R&R 20 minutes behind us pointing to his sore left knee.
“I can’t go any faster,” he explained apologetically while gently nursing his knee, “the wind is blasting my chest and legs.” I lent him my Dainese knee and shin protector and we spoke at length on proper riding gear while Kevin advised him that the Vmax was far from the ideal touring bike. Somehow, Jason learnt fast and after some quick calculation, had set his mind on a used ST.
The afternoon sun must have delivered a scorching 32 degrees at Tapah R&R as Jason and John Kwa stretched out flat on their backs for a quick 40 winks. At my table, Kevin, Serene and Brooks were happily tucking in their third fried chicken thigh, steamed groundnuts and Coke. Unable to resist a good snack, Eric and Valerie wolfed down two large pieces of high cholesterol, finger-licking fried kampong chicken, after which, Valerie promptly dozed off at the table.
At 1330 hrs. the familiar roar of a ZXR400 broke the monotonous din at the R&R. Even the enervating heat was momentarily forgotten.
“Hey, sorry ah, sorry ah,” smiled the harassed Sky.
“Walau, backside pain. Iron butt ride, man,” enjoined Kelly, rubbing her sore behind as if to underscore her point.
Without giving them a chance to rest their sore butts or quench their parched lips, we surrounded the couple, waiting impatiently to hear from the man himself. Sky didn’t disappoint. The man had picked up two nails in his tyre while Kelly’s Beemer had been wobbling mysteriously and it was only at the Kulai toll that a kind lady had drawn her attention to the fact that her rear tyre was literally falling apart. The brand new Bridgestone BT57 was being ripped apart. Somehow, by the grace of God, both of them had managed to struggle to Kulai unscathed and unrattled by the experience.
“Kulai now has its first Beemer on display,” laughed Sky with not the least sign of disappointment. He had called the Singapore supplier and they had agreed to replace the tyre for free. After his own ZXR400 tyre was fixed, he rode two-up with Kelly. Several kilometres later, he discovered he had forgotten an item in the Beemer’s luggage box! So he headed south, picked up his precious cargo and charged northwards again for Pagoh. From 170 kmph, he had slowed down to a decent 128 kmph after he saw the flashing headlights of on-coming cars on the south-bound highway. “It took me a while to realise why they were flashing their lights,” he explained.
Then just 500 metres from Pagoh R&R, traffic slowed to a crawl. The all-too-familiar red and white cones on the road, tapered highway vehicles into a single lane and Sky stared right into the reflective light green safety vests of the traffic police officers flagging offending motorists to the side. “Can settle anywhere. Johor also can,” the officer had instructed him as he scribbled on the summons paper.
“Can settle here or not?” Sky asked meekly when he realised the consequences of a written summons.
The officer looked around warily before blurting out, “RM50”. Before you could utter Jack Robinson, Sky and Kelly were astride their ZXR and storming towards Dengkil. Never a dull moment indeed, when you ride with Sky, you would agree.
We exited Simpang Pulai and Sky led us to Kellie’s Castle. The merciless heat had left us dehydrated and the cold drinks at the little café never tasted better. He explained that Kellie’s castle was built in the early 1900s by a rich Englishman who had owned the land and the sprawling rubber plantations. He had imported estate labourers from India to work his plantations. Once the castle was completed, he had sailed to England to fetch his wife to live in his prize castle. But it was not to be because he died on the trip. Then strangely, his labourers began to die under bizarre circumstances. A Hindu temple was quickly erected about 500 metres away and the unexplained deaths stopped. Those of us who are familiar with the Taj Mahal in India will remember that Shah Jehan built this monolithic structure as an expression of his love for his wife. Unfortunately, he died before he could see his wish fulfilled.
In Ipoh, lunch was at 1545 hrs and we got to relish the best chicken, bean sprouts, noodles and lime juice. At RM8.00 a person, the meal was a steal as the mountain of fattened bean sprouts and tender, glossy-white chicken meat were quickly devoured with relish. Chris Mah told us that the best char kway teow in Ipoh was just next door. We were taken in and there was talk at the table that we should come back for supper once our chilli and black-peppered crabs had been properly digested.
“You’re an Ipohrean, ah?” Kevin had asked Chris innocently.
“Got such a thing called Ipohrean, meh?” someone at the table shot back. We laughed at his definition, trying not to choke on the smooth chicken skin and well-balanced sauce. Chris hails from Ipoh and had seized this opportunity to visit his folks in Ipoh.
The Casuarina ParkRoyal Hotel was a welcome sight as we rode in and parked our bikes on the kerb. Thoughts of an extended warm shower and a soft caressing mattress for our aching backs and the soothing air-conditioning prompted us to park our machines in double quick time. David Ong as usual, was meticulously covering his much-treasured pearl-white Goldwing while Serene waited patiently for Kevin to park her screaming red TL1000 next to my ST.
“I want a double bed,” emphasised David to Sky, extending both hands away from his chest to indicate what a double should look like.
“Me too,” added Eric to the amusement of all of us in the lobby. For a moment, we wondered why they were so insistent on a double bed and not two singles instead. Did it really make a difference? The rest of us were happy to have a bed to lie in. Then it struck us that the reason was pretty simple enough.
Jason roomed alone partly because Chris was staying with his family and would join us that evening for the crabs. “I don’t mind sleeping alone,” the computer science graduate was to explain later. “I snore and it is not fair to my room-mate. It’s OK for me to pay more.”
My room-mate John Kwa and I hit the bed the moment we had dumped our belongings neatly in the room. We were in Slumberland gently snoring away even before we could count 20 sheep!
Kevin, Serene and Brooks made their rounds of the nearby shopping complex while Jason did some relaxing laps of the hotel pool.
The jarring ringing of the phone rudely interrupted our siesta and reluctantly looked at my watch. It was 1900 hrs and Jason was on the line. John Kwa was still asleep undeterred by the ringing and my unhurried conversation with Jason.
“Come over when you’re ready,” I said to the chatty Jason.
After a quick shower, I was absorbed in watching the news on TV3: “the Malaysian police had raided several outlets selling illegal VCDs; the situation in Kalimantan had deteriorated and the Dayaks were on a rampage systematically wiping out the Madurese population. Some gory scenes of the brutal killings and blood-letting flashed across the screen. A ship had been despatched to evacuate the fleeing refugees.”
Jason strode in all dressed up with nowhere to go. I noticed he was proudly wearing the Dainese knee and shin protector I had lent him. John Kwa awoke from his nap and there we were – Jason and I in our armchairs and John Kwa sitting up in bed chatting animatedly on every topic that took our fancy. I thought we had a fruitful time engrossed in conversation.
The phone screamed again and this time it was Sky. My goodness, it was already 2100 hrs and we had to leave for our chilli crab dinner. It had been 1hr 30 min since Jason came into our room! John Kwa jumped out of bed and sprinted for the bath. In 5 minutes he was done remembering as he did, to pepper himself with the prickly heat powder he had brought along.
The others had readied their bikes and their pungent exhaust emissions drifted into the cool evening air. Luckily, we didn’t need to offer a thousand apologies to placate our waiting bikers. Sky led us to a location on the outskirts of Ipoh town. The locals were familiar with this dining haven but uninformed visitors often are not even aware of its existence.
It is the equivalent of our hawker centres but probably not as upmarket or clean. We managed to find two tables despite the never-ending crowds of diners streaming in for an evening of gastronomic delights. The plate of ‘chuip-chuip’ came first. This was a small spiral shell with a tiny slug that had to be sucked out – hence its name. They seem to be denizens of mangrove swamps or brackish waters. The gravy tasted marvellous but to get at the slug required an effort.
“You place the larger opening on your lips and suck hard at the smaller end. Release the suction and the slug will shoot out of the shell,” Kevin instructed a puzzled Brooks. Two other plates of sea-shell slugs appeared in quick succession. I have never seen these on the menu of our seafood outlets in Singapore. One required a sharpened bamboo pick, something akin to our satay sticks, to pry out the slug inside, dip it in chilli sauce before we could savour the chewy crustacean which tasted like the Pacific clams.
‘Buy 3 large Heineken Beers and get 1 small one free’ I pointed out the poster to those at our table. “Yeah, what is seafood without beer,” agreed Kevin who promptly placed the order while the demure Serene footed the bill. “My treat,” she announced. Just as Kevin, Serene, John Kwa, Jason and I raised our glasses, the plate of chilli crabs arrived right on cue. The gravy tasted out of this world, totally different from the chilli crab sauce we are so familiar with in Singapore. It came with little plastic spoons for us to drink in the sauce!
Jason went for the shell, topping it up with the superb gravy while the claws mysteriously disappeared. We agreed it was fantastic and simply couldn’t resist another plate. True enough, Sky had taken that into consideration and the next moment a steaming-hot plate of black pepper crabs with roe appeared. The Ipoh version is conspicuously different from the overpowering and bitingly-hot black pepper crabs here. They was not as spicy and came topped with just the right touch of sweet sauce to enamel the black pepper to the shell and meat. John Kwa found it a little too sweet though he thoroughly enjoyed it. The roe on the crabs was the best part and I ended up picking up every tiny bit of them from the plate.
Those at my table took a short stroll after our sumptuous seafood dinner to help the food go down better. There was not much to see or shop. I bought 1 kg of duku-langsat and 4 pieces of VCD. Sky’s group stay glued to their table for another 25 minutes relishing every morsel of the famous Ipoh chilli and black-pepper crabs while we waited good-naturedly at our bikes for them! At RM20.00 per head, who’s complaining.
It was already 2330 hrs when we sauntered into our rooms. John Kwa, Jason and I finished the 1 kg of duku-langsat once again, amidst the lively chatter of conversation that filled the room. Kelly stopped by to issue us our breakfast vouchers. By 0100 hrs, it was time for counting sheep, with Jason’s snoring no doubt rocking the four walls of room 419.
By 0740 hrs the next morning, Jason was on the phone explaining that he was ready for breakfast - my goodness, at that early hour, but it was not until one hour later that John Kwa and I
decided that it was time to rise-and-shine.
David and Nellie being the early birds, picked a table for eight and Eric, Valerie and the three of us joined them at the table. Soon, the others who were sufficiently rested, made their appearance and our two tables filled quickly with Taiwan porridge, toast, sausages, chicken ham, fruit juices, beverages, eggs, fruits, curry chicken and nasi lemak. Some of us had three helpings from the breakfast spread and as was evident, camaraderie and bonding prevailed.
At 1130 hrs, we were all geared up and heading for the Sam Poh Tong Chinese Temple, a 10 minute ride away. The temple is built into the limestone cave and already, there were crowds of devotees when we arrived. John Kwa, Jason and I exhausted ourselves climbing the steps to reach the top while David prudently decided to turn back and join the others resting comfortably in the shade. Certain sections of the stairs were in darkness and we had to be careful where we placed our feet. We huffed and puffed once we stood at the top, perspiration running copiously down our faces and arms. The 120 kg Jason shared that he had trekked up five mountains in Malaysia and had gone caving as well. Thankfully, Chinese tea and filtered mineral water from a dispenser quenched our thirst when we came down.
Gua Tempurong (Tempurong Cave) in Perak was used by the communists as their hideout during the 12-year Malayan Emergency which started in 1948 explained the Bananaman. Today, adventure treks of varying skill levels are conducted to explore the limestone caves. Sky, Kelly, John Kwa, Eric and Valerie gamely paid RM6.00 each for a 40-minute trek while the rest of us feasted on ‘mangis hutan’ and fresh lotus seeds from two sprigs of the lotus plant, courtesy of Serene again. After an hour, our caving trekkers emerged fatigued and swathed in perspiration. If you had seen David, you would have thought he had gone for a swim! His polo t-shirt was drenched in perspiration. Nellie was rightfully concerned that he might catch a cold and advised him to change into a dry t-shirt.
“Whatever you do, don’t trek in riding gear,” said an enervated Sky as he squeezed out the last drops in the can of 100 Plus.
We rode the narrow 1km of dusty and loose gravel track and another 3 km of tarred road which led us back to the main road. It was already 1330 hrs as the eight bikers headed south for Telok Intan just 95 km away. As we marked the first junction, we counted only six. At the earlier junction, a lorry had honked at David and as he tried to keep to the left, had lost his footing in the gravel and dropped his Goldwing! Luckily, both David and Nellie were unhurt and Eric and Valerie were on hand to help out.
It was another 50 km down the southbound NSH that we turned into Telok Intan but we had to ride another 40 km on a narrow main road before we saw any indication of the town. Telok Intan town looks just like another laid-back small Malaysian town but there were several petrol stations within a 1 km radius. As Serene marked the junction, we parked our bikes on the main thoroughfare under the shade of some large trees. Gosh, the sun was hot! We waited for the last two bikers …… the minutes ticked by; still no sign of them. Then our watches showed twenty minutes, and still there was no sign of David’s Goldwing and Bananaman’s Vmax.
Kevin rode his ST to the junction and after a quick conversation, hopped onto Serene’s TL1000 and took off in search of the pair. The rest of us speculated that David and Bananaman could have taken a wrong turn because we were ahead of them. Others thought the Vmax could have run out of petrol and because there was only one Esso station on that 40 km stretch, he could be pushing his bike!
Half an hour later, the familiar Vmax and the pearl white Goldwing cruised nonchalantly towards where we were. David later explained that he had stopped at a petrol station just 1 km from where we were because he wasn’t sure if he was heading in the right direction. So the next best thing he did was to pull out his handphone and call Kevin. He heard a strange tone, he said and thought Kevin’s phone was switched off. At that moment, the TL1000 zoomed past but Kevin had not noticed that both bikers were at the petrol station. Bananaman took off in pursuit of Kevin and the rest is history. An embarassed David gave us a good laugh when he revealed that he had forgotten to include the prefix ‘02’ to the phone number!
At 1415 hr our bikes were neatly parked in front of the Leaning Pagoda, right in the middle of the town. Lunch was at a hawker centre just across the road and as we settled down to ‘mee rebus’, Pattaya fried rice, tom-yam soup, mixed vegetables and ice-kachang, our lively conversations added flavour to our meal. By 1515 hr, we were heading south once again for Seremban R&R.
Bananaman agony was not yet over; as a matter of fact, he had another eight hours of tortuous riding. Cruising at between 100 – 110 kmph because of the wind, the Vmax was way behind the others. I followed behind him and for long stretches, I tried to entice him into going a little faster but to no avail. It was getting riskier by the minute for me – I was finding it extremely difficult to keep my eyes open. Several times, both my upper and lower eyelids met!
AT Seremban R&R, Bananaman decided that he didn’t want to hold back the group any longer. “You guys go ahead. I’ll find my way back. The wind is giving me a lot of problems.” We waited for him to down the can of Red Bull before bidding him a safe ride home.
Sky and Kelly, too, broke formation. “We’ll meet you chaps at Perling for dinner. We have to get back and pick up Chris from the baby-sitter’s. It’s late,” he explained.
“Do you think it would rain?” I heard Valerie asking me.
Like the good weatherman who gets his projects right only 30% of the time, I shot back, “No, it won’t; the sky’s bright.”
Five minutes into riding at 150 kmph and with Pagoh R&R in mind, the heavens opened up. On came our hazard lights and down went our speed. At certain stretches, visibility was no more than 15 metres. But all of us knew exactly what we had to do: “Think Safety”.
As the torrential rain tapered off, a group of F1 and Hayabusa riders took us by surprise. As they rode up beside us, they dropped a gear and screamed away at 180 or 200 kmph, all this while, zipping between the cars, buses and trailers on the highway. Even Sky, who was way ahead of us, was caught by surprise. He heard the high performance screams and before he knew it, the superbikes were 200 metres in front of him!
After another top-up at Pagoh R&R, we were glad to see the toll before Perling. Sky had warned us at Seremban R&R that the main road at Perling was under repair and granite pebbles were strewn across every part of the road. “Be careful and slow down,” he had advised.
We got through safely and before long we were tucking into ‘wantan noodles’ - courtesy of Serene; satay – courtesy of Sky and Kelly; and lime juice. Yes, you guessed right: Baby Chris was there gurgling and smiling at everyone, but of course, he saved the best for Mum and Dad.
“So does he call mummy and daddy?” I asked Sky.
“No, not yet, but we’re trying to get him to do so,” beamed the proud parents. Anyone interested in Singapore’s Baby Bonus?
It was near midnight when we rode the short distance to Gelang Patah and surprise of all surprises: Bananaman was there on his Vmax. Talk about timing!
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