Malaysia - The first 4,000m peak

Hello everyone!

The main reason we had come to this part of Malaysia stands 4,095m above sea level. We were going to climb one of (in spite of my claims on the video) the tallest mountains in Southeast Asia – Mount Kinabalu.

The 8km trek up to the top is a two-day job, so we set off early in the morning in a taxi, the driver of which played incessant house music for the two hour journey. We were greeted with...rain. I think it has rained every day so far. Our guide, who I mistakenly called Sajid for the duration of the expedition even though his name was more like Asheed, met us and we were soon heading up. And up.

The reason it is a two-day trek is because Mount Kinabalu is supposed to be at its most spectacular when the sun rises. Consequently, you sleep after 6km of the hike and wake up early to scale the remainder in time for the sun to break out from under the horizon. The first 3.5km were a doddle. After we had our lunch – much of which we spent trying to feed a squirrel – things began to become tricky.

The reasons are twofold. In addition to the lactic acid steadily building in our legs from ascending, the air was becoming thinner with every step. This does affect your climb – we were becoming breathless at an alarming speed. Even so, the vegetation and flora was still beautiful.

This stopped as we passed the 3,000m mark, to be replaced with something out of the Lion King. Everything changed to black and white. The tree trunks were a light grey, the rocks a threatening black. We got up to our resting point, had a freezing shower due to the lack of hot water, ate and then went to bed. At 8.30pm. The rest of our room was filled with eager Japanese tourists who went to bed at this time, and we were obliged to follow suit. Especially as we were waking up at 2am...

Or so I thought. No. The Japanese were even more eager than I thought. 1.37am was when our light was switched on. Knackered. Coffee to go with another big, high-carb meal. Head torch on, and at 2.45am we’re off.

Bit harder this time. To be expected – the higher you go, the tougher the level of difficulty. Ropes were required to pull ourselves up various faces of the mountain. Fun, but challenging in the pitch black. Soon enough, we were scrambling up the final craggy rocks. 4,095m. Conquered.

So now to shiver in the cold whilst waiting for the sun to rise. Except...it kinda didn’t. There was a lot of cloud cover. So what happened was the other tips of the mountain suddenly became clearer in our vision. This was still a spectacular sight. We may not have seen the perfect view, but we still saw the top of the mountain in its magnificent splendour.

Of course, what comes up must come down. So we had an 8km descent ahead of us. Using that rope. My knees aren’t great anyway, so this quickly became a test of wills. We tried rolling down but it didn’t really work. Our guide would have stopped such tomfoolery, but he had disappeared. He was there for the most difficult part – sidestepping along an edge holding only a rope – but that was the last we saw of him.

It could be argued that the latter part of the hike was the hardest. In addition to the pains in our knees and calf muscles, it began to rain. Hard. I fell over twice, Jason once. Trees had fallen into our path between our ascent and descent. We made it down the final 6k in three hours. On the way, a different tour guide stopped us and asked if we were twins (maybe I do look Asian after all), and we chanted Dae-han-min-guk at a group of Koreans. They loved that.

And it’s fair to say that we loved the hike. The people we met were fun, the mountain was beautiful, and it was very nice to get in some physical exertion amongst all of the food we have been eating. It’s the highest place I have ever stood on our planet’s surface, and is one of the prettiest.

Love you all

Matt

Malaysia - the first apam balik

Hello everyone!

So after another attempt of trying durian - and again failing to like it one little bit - it was time to say 'sayonara' to Singapore. Onto a new country, and one I know very little about. Many people who travel in this part of the world travel to four countries - Thailand, Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia. Many people, like me, will also have been to Singapore. But many people miss out the country in the middle - Malaysia. So I thought I would be different and check it out.




My initial research about the place brought a bit of a shock to me. Malaysia is TWO islands. There is peninsular Malaysia, and also Malaysian Borneo to the east. The latter was our first destination for five days, before flying over to the mainland for another five. Jason was joining me a day later - he is lazy and the flight I was on sold out - so I flew solo to the big city, Kota Kinabalu (KK), on Saturday night.


Another thing I didn't realise was that Malaysia - well Borneo from my experience thus far - has been significantly influenced by Islam. Lots of headscarves, not much skin exposed, and no need to put a halal sign in a restaurant.


KK is a lot more developed than I anticipated it to be. Worryingly, Borneo as whole seems a lot more developed than I would have ever imagined. Lots of construction site, lots of modern roads, and copious numbers of diggers. It's to do with the palm oil business, apparently.


I witnessed this whilst travelling inland to witness a bamboo river race. Transport is different here. Not the actual method - you still use a bus - but the schedule. In that there is none. You wait until the bus is full before you leave. If there is one seat free, the bus will not budge. Thus I waited over an hour in a bus chatting to a Malaysian guy before we got moving, and then discovered upon arriving at my destination that the races were a further 20km bus ride away. I wasn't waiting.


Though I did spend my afternoon waiting - waiting for lazy Jason to arrive. I had checked out the port area - complete with nearby Korean restaurant (I can't escape!) - and luckily returned just before the rain started to lash down. The rain is predictable, yet also very unpredictable. The predictable part is to get out of harm's way as soon as you feel a single droplet. Often it has dispersed within 20 minutes. But what a 20 minutes. People who complain about rain in Manchester - come to Southeast Asia in monsoon season.



We hit up the main night market after dusk. We walked through the mass of fruit and vegetables to get to the meaty section. Smoke billows out of the numerous barbecues, all cooking food that delights your senses. You grab a seat and then go to each stall to tell them what you desire. Our meal was pure gluttony. Snapper. Crayfish. King prawns. Satay. Chicken wings. We were glad they had forgotten the rice.


Jason then suggested we get dessert (!), as he had a few ideas. Unlike many Asian countries, the assortment of Malay desserts seems to be very good – mainly because they don’t commonly use rice, and they commonly use sugar. Jason’s favourite is called goreng pisang, which is a banana in batter. We also had cendol, which contains random foodstuffs such as crushed ice, coconut cream, red beans and green stuff which is the actual cendol. I, however, hit gold with a different dessert. The name of it is apam balik. It is two thick pancakes with a sweet, nutty paste smothered inbetween. You can buy three – THREE – for one ringgit. That’s 20p. It tastes delicious.


Everything thus far has been delicious. The volume of food allowed us to fall asleep very early, which was a good thing – we had a big trek to undertake the next day.


Love you all

Matt

Singapore - The first hawker centre

Hello everyone!

When I left Korea, the temperature was a little bit higher than 30. Conversely, my destination, Singapore, was hovering just below 30. One is in Celsius, the other in Fahrenheit. I'll leave it for you to decide which ones match.


Needless to say, it was damn hot when I got off the plane at Changi International Airport, even though it was just before 10pm. I'm staying with a Singaporean - a friend from university called Jason. So whilst I've been to this city-state before with my parents, I was guaranteed a different experience. Jason has a rather good job - he is the Americas Directorate for the country's Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Basically, he has a job that most who undertook my major in Manchester would happily kill for. Which makes it all the stranger that he majored in Geology...


The consequences of this job are that he is an incredibly busy, incredibly stressed young man. And, of course, that he had to work on the Friday. So after a long-overdue sleep, I was left to my own devices to explore until he was free at 7pm. He and his delightful mother compiled a list of activities for me to accomplish, which in turn would give me the more local experience of this diverse metropolis.


Jason's mother is wonderful. She made me a Singaporean breakfast - a pork floss sandwich. I don't normally eat too much when I'm in travel mode, but I have a feeling that this adventure may be a bit fatter for me. Fully charged, I set about walking around the city, and saw a part of Singapore that tourists are not supposed to see. I ended up walking through sewage under a bridge - my justification here is that the walkway, well, isn't finished - and came across a load of migrant workers, who all looked ill and exhausted, sleeping on blocks of wood or in hammocks.


This was one of many things I saw that I wasn't expecting. Another was the sheer volume of Christmas decorations. I had forgotten that it was the season to be jolly as I was busy sweating in the humidity. Decorations are everywhere. Even the famous Raffles Hotel has been spoiled somewhat by having bright red wreaths hanging in the famous lawn area. I haven't really given much consideration to Christmas - that will change when I get home, I'm sure.


Although being slightly disturbed by the mass of white people and the volume of English being spoken, I still feel far away from home. The weather is important here, obviously, but I am actually having a little difficulty understanding people. The accent is so strange, and locals speak so fast, so that it actually can be a challenge. It was bizarre that I felt more at home in Chinatown, where it was more common to hear Cantonese, than I was in the malls of Orchard Road. Going home is going to be weird. It would be worse if I was heading straight home, though.


When I mentioned the weather, I talked in a positive tone. I forgot to mention that it is rainy season. Luckily I was close to my destination - the Peranakan Museum, which is an interesting look at the people who are closest to being indigenous in Singapore - when the darkening skies unleashed themselves.


The rain had relented whilst I chatted to a Malay girl in a bookstore - she had picked up a Korea travel book, and if that isn't a conversation opener for me then I may as well give up on life - so I went to the Botanical Gardens, conveniently close to Jason's top-secret office. Which is guarded by men with little guns, apparently.


He took me to a hawker centre. think food stalls, but about fifty of them. All selling delicious food. On the cheap. And you mix and match, and create a meal. I've never had stingray before. I can see why Steve Irwin died for one (come on, enough time has passed to make jokes now). It was divine.


All of the food was, actually. Big fan of the satay - I'm sure more of that will be munched on in Malaysia itself. That's for tomorrow - an evening flight to Kota Kinabalu, and a new country. Well, the Borneo part of it anyway. Welcome to the jungle!


Love you all

Matt

Korea - The verdict

Hello everyone!

This blog isn't going to talk about something fresh or new that I have recently done. It's also a very difficult blog to write. I'm writing this on a plane flying to Singapore, getting rather tipsy whilst trying to find the right prose to express myself. There are a lot of scribbles on my paper. There would be a fair few beer cans as well, if the attractive Singaporean flight attendants weren't so efficient.

No, this is a reflective blog. It's impossible to sum up my experiences in Korea in one post, but I will give it my best shot. May need a couple more Tiger beers to do this properly.

So I did it - one year teaching English in Korea. How do I feel? Numb. It still hasn't sunk in fully. I feel as if I am going on a thoroughly undeserved vacation to Sinagpore and Malaysia. But that is it - a vacation. Part of me is still trying to deny the facts - Korea is no longer my home. I am once again unemployed, and once again a citizen of the world.

I say this, but at least a small chunk of me has accepted in the past week these facts as reality. Because of that, and knowing that I have my, how can put it...emotional moments - maybe I can coin a new phrase, 'emoments'? - I have been fighting against a barrage of tears. They were behind a dam of macho pride and face, bashing away, yearning to break the barrier and flood my eyes. I cracked on the final night just after I said my goodbyes to Kelly, who has become an extra sister and best friend to me over the past year. It was a strange one, as I know I will see her again.

For many it will be the final photo, the final beer, the final handshake and customary goodluck utterances. I move around. The world is a big place. I will meet new people, and in spite of my best efforts, numerous people I have come to know in Korea will become an increasingly faded memory. I've been through this before; in school, in America, in Europe, in university. I can't kid myself, and it's a horrible proposition.

On the other hand, for many of the very good friends I have made out here it will not be the final farewell - and I do have a good track record of making the effort to see people. The best friends will always find a way, and there are many people I have met in Korea who fall into that category.

This isn't something I want to think about now - the beer is flowing ever quicker as I scrawl away - so let's reflect elsewhere. It's clear from my blogs that I have truly loved my time in Korea. But what makes this such a special country to live in is the everyday occurrences, the little things that rarely make it into my pieces. The fact that an employee will always warmly say hello when you walk into a shop. The cute little boys and girls who gaze in wonder at you as you walk down the street. The students shouting 'HELLO TEACHER' whenever I walk past. The little things mean just as much as the big events that I wrote about throughout the year.

Could I have done more? Of course I could. I could have bungee jumped - though that failure was not from a lack of effort. I could have had live octopus (the picture is a dead one). I could have done a temple stay. I could have gone to Jeju island. I could have learnt more of the language. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. Beverly had it right - last words of a fool.

So let's instead look at my year from a positive perspective. Let's see that glass as half-full. I have seen more of Korea than I have of any other country - even my own. I have eaten a wider array of food than I - and many locals - knew even existed. I have made friends for life, both Korean and non-Korean. I have learnt countless knew skills - though some (riding a bike) were long overdue. I have been educated in and embraced a culture that initially seemed alien and scary to mine. I have had the pleasure of working in one of the best jobs I feel I could ever possibly have. I have lived away from home for one year, and genuinely never longed to be there instead of Korea.


Whilst I am as ambitious, as travel-whorish, and hungry as ever, it is a massive wrench to be leaving Korea. The decision to do so was by far the most torturous and stressful I have ever made. If a few things had been different, or happened earlier, I may have stayed.

But whilst remembering the past year, I also must look forward to the next, and embrace it with all the gusto that I attacked Korea with. Where will I be in the next 12 months? Honest answer - I don't know. And that, friends, is a wonderful thing. Glass half-full. Let's go!

Love you all

Matt

Korea - The first (second, and third) goodbye parties

Hello everyone!

It's fair to say I dragged out my Korean farewell longer than I should have. Certainly didn't help my state of mind. I had three farewell parties in the space of five days - four if you count the last day of school. Five if you count the girl I've been seeing. The events of the week were great fun, but the feelings when I saw each person turn and walk away for the final time for the forseeable future is not something I want to occur on a regular basis, and not something I would wish on even the most evil and despicable human being.


This blog should have been called 'the first bungee'. In fact it was the second epic failure on the jumping front. Which sucked, as we had planned this for weeks. Months, even. But who knew that snow made a bungee jump dangerous? The first weekend of snow in Seoul - I guess I was never meant to bungee there. Some other country. And besides, snow is pretty cool. Even though we don't look like we're enjoying it.


I could have called this the first brain haemorraege. I'm fine, by the way. It's not related to how we felt after the morning we'd had. It's the name of a shot I was purchased in Itaewon at about 2.30pm (well what else are you going to do to cheer yourselves up after waking up at 6am to go to a bungee which then didn't happen). Looks crazy, but actually tasted really nice.


So this was farewell numero uno. The Seoul edition. We evoked memories of the summer with a Sechuan hotpot, before drinking and singing the night away. It was a lot of fun. Even though we were annoyed about the bungee, we all agreed that it was one of the best nights we've had in a while. I didn't cry. I came mighty close when saying bye to Jon, but I held it together. And fell asleep on the subway, got to Incheon and then almost got back into Seoul before waking up. Magic.


My one Monday class adorably made me a cake out of choco pies. Complete with candle which had a paper flame. I was quite impressed that I blew that out. Also impressed with the volume of messages once again scribbled on the board. It seems some of the students became quite attached to me. And then onto farewell number two. The Bucheon chapter. I knew I wasn't saying bye to Kelly on this night, so this was delaying what could have been the most horrible aspect of this event. Still, it was hard to say bye to a lot of people who I have come to know and love over the past year. Especially those who helped me settle and were there when I needed to get away from Siheung. Really good bulgogi and drinks - happy days.



Final day of school was the following day, the Tuesday. I had two classes. As I was walking to the first I saw three of my female students outside the building. They told me to wait. Why, I ask. 'Teacher, girls get changed - BAD'. Fair enough. Outrageous lie, but at least they said it in English. Another not-so-surprise party then. They made me a big goodbye poster, and all was well with the world. My camera, having been broken and in a Samsung factory for the previous week, was back to its happy-snappy self, so pictures ahoy.


I walked around the school for most of the day with my Wales and Korea flags. Almost every teacher was forced to sign my Taegukki - that be the Korean one, then - and then take photos with both. Problem is all the teachers signed the wrong side of the flag, so when I hang it up at home it will be the wrong way round. Though to be fair the Wales flag is also backwards in about half of the pictures, so I can't hammer them too much. We had a teachers' lunch where I was presented with a cake. Later, my office presented me with...a cake. Of the ice cream kind. I also received various visits from students, numerous hugs, a sheath for archery arrows, and a Park Ji-sung flag. I love my students. I love Sorae high school. Never forget.



I didn't want to leave, but I had to as I was meeting Cho-long later that night. Again, a torturous goodbye. Receiving a text from her on Thursday saying 'I love you' didn't really help my journey to the airport. I hate goodbyes. Yet still had more to do. The final night. The last supper. Ddak galbi, my favourite. The final drinking session. Garten bier - stick to what you know. The final noraebang. The last emotional hugs. So long. Farewell. And that's it. One. Year. Finishee.



This is a rather factual, rather blazé blog. I wrote a rather more heartfelt, emotional piece on the plane. That's what you'll get next time. My views on Korea. My feelings on leaving. Who knows - maybe my little Welsh heart will temporarily bloom to be slightly bigger than a pea.


Love you all

Matt