Backpacking with the 'Rents

I knew we were in trouble after going through Singapore immigration. As we descended on the escalator to catch the bus that would take us across the Strait of Johor and into Malaysia the crowd before my eyes was huge. Alli and I have done the jaunt between Tioman and Singapore numerous times, mostly for visa reasons and work, but it never looked this bonkers before. We had a bus to catch in less than two hours and boy did this look hairy. The whole scene would have made me sweat and utter a few curse words under my breath if I was just with Alli or some friends, but this jaunt was quite different.

The Lady wasn't there, as the cast of characters on this journey was a novel one for me in SE Asia. I was rolling with the 'rents. My Dad (Tom) and his wife (June) were there, plus Alli's parents too (Ken and Barb). I had scooped them all up at the Singapore airport about 12 hours before. After not seeing anyone from home for almost a year and a half, since late July my Mom has visited along with everyone else above getting here in late August. It was all pretty surreal. But first I had to make it through that damn bus ordeal with the four of 'em.

Raft up! Bout to get down on the Ayung River north of Ubud, Bali, Indoneisa. *** All photos can be enlarged by clicking on them.***

The standard route from Singapore (SG) to Tioman goes like this: bus from SG to their border, get off and get stamped out of the Lion City; back on the bus to cross the Strait of Johor, ending up at Malaysian immigration where they stamp you in; hop on the bus again to go to the long-distance bus terminal in Johor Bahru. From there you catch another bus (2-3 hrs. depending on the driver's enthusiasm) to Mersing, the laid-back port town with ferries to Tioman, which also randomly has the best tiramasu cake I've had in Asia.

If you're lucky you can catch the ferry the same day of your bus journey, if not then a night in pleasant Mersing will do (remember: they do have bomb tiramasu), and the boat will shove off in the morning. The ferry terminal is a shining example of incompetence, complete with late ferries and the most asinine boarding process I've ever seen. Whew, I'm beat from just writing all that. There's a few more cogs to the whole machine, but I think you get the point. It can take more than an entire day to rock this slog. Yup, it sucks. And for some reason we thought it was a good idea to have our parents experience all this.

Above two photos: Having fun in the downpour at Asah Waterfall, on the south end of Tioman. Notice my Dad's snazzy hairdo.

With my Mom it was no trouble as the crowds were non-existent, but not with the other four. One problem planning for traveling with the parents is that Alli and I have been in backpacker mode the last 1.5 yrs. Now, I kinda have beef with that term since it usually implies that I like full-moon beach parties and culturally making an ass of myself, but truth be told we do roll with backpacks. In my case an external-frame (you heard right!) Kelty from the early 90s. I think my bag is older than Offspring's breakout album 'Smash.'

Anyway, that means we're usually roaming around on the cheap. Buses here and there; hotels/guesthouses/homestays with shared bathrooms, maybe even a wee bit of mold and water damage; sweat-stained sheets; you know the usual trappings. And when you gotta carry it all on your back, in a region that loves sunshine and endless humidity, you like your bag light too.

Buchanan Christmas card maybe? Kayaking Juara Bay.

Unfortunately, everything was stacked against our parents. The sweaty heat combined with bulky rolly bags did not mix. Their belongings were pushing over 20kg (44+lbs). And they don't let you stow these bags in the cargo bays on the bus, you gotta haul 'em in and do it fast. Another annoying fact about the border crossing: people are in quite the rush, and why, I'm not so sure. A lot of the time it reminds me of those who love to speed up when they can see the red light ahead.

And the cherry on top? People in SE Asia really don't like to wait in orderly lines. To put it lightly, people will cut the hell out a line. Usually lines become amorphous blobs reminiscent of cramped rock 'n' roll shows once the band hits the stage. I've had everyone from young punks to elderly ladies butt in front of me, even whole families. So if you're living here then you gotta buy into the practice. Cut, butt, do whatever. If you don't, you're gonna get left behind.

Might be my favorite photo. Ken enjoying this strange sight: the king of candy characters in the West, meeting the king of fruits in the East. Singapore airport, always full of surprises.

As we waited to board the bus to Malaysia the amorphous blob was in full swing. So I did what I always do now, pushed forward. But I'm not gonna lie, I kind of forgot the parents were there. When I looked behind me, they were way back and I realized I hadn't gave them the low-down on SE Asia lines. They looked quite perplexed. People were cutting left and right. It was hilarious, in a we-might-miss-our-bus due to this craziness kind of way. A sort of grand welcoming committee to SE Asia for my Dad, June, Ken and Barb! But alas, we boarded all the buses and were stamped in. The journey to Tioman and Juara was finally completed by lunchtime the next day, complete with late ferries, scamming taxi drivers and some delectable roti canai in the morning.

Yeah, the day we went to Asah Waterfall it rained a little bit. Maybe an understatement.

The four parents spent about 4-5 nights in Juara, before my Dad and June moved on to New Zealand with a quick stopover in Singapore. Having the four, plus my Mom earlier in the summer, in Juara was wonderful. They got to see where we've spent a year of our lives since leaving the USA last April. They all got the grand tour of the village, and surrounding ocean and jungle, whether on foot, in a sidecar or via kayaks. Rolling through a rainstorm with my Dad and June in the JTP sidecar definitely put a smile on my face. I even got my Mom and Dad to separately try scuba diving.

Ken and Barb stuck around SE Asia much longer, visiting KL and two locales in Indonesia: Gili Meno for scuba diving (Ken was so relaxed on holiday that for the first time in his diving career he forgot to put on his dive computer before heading underwater) and the rare opportunity to visit somewhere in SE Asia where motorized land transportation doesn't occur, and Ubud for Balinese culture, kick-ass rafting, and at least for me, the crispy duck. Barb even got to have a Singapore Sling at the bar that invented the drink on her birthday.

Ken and Barb in an ox cart on Gili Meno, Lombock, Indonesia. No motorized transportation exists on the Gili's, so the only way to get around is on your feet, by bicycle or ox cart.

My Mom's visit was a winner too. Celebrating Hari Raya with her was an incredible experience and she even got to see Alli and I in action since an international school trip was taking place when she was in town. Nothing like dinner time with 60 insane 6th graders! And I'm almost certain the talent show she witnessed that we always have at the end of our trips was the most bizarre of the whole season.

Sadly the only photo of my Mom and I the whole trip. In an office in Mersing. At least we got one of us! It's cause she's always taking incredible photos. Click the Hari Raya link above to see for yourself.

After not seeing family for so long, it was darn strange to suddenly be offering them their first bite of sambal chicken or explaining how to say 'thank you' in Bahasa Malaysia. But overall, through all the hiccups (transpo issues; pooping geckos and inquisitive monitor lizards; torrential downpours; new foods; lack of numerous American amenities), I'd say they nailed it.

To be honest, I was quite nervous having to host family, but I'd do it again, no questions asked. Just a few things would be different. Did I mention Pulau Tioman has an airport? All four were surely thinking of it at some point on our overland journey to Juara. But all along part of me new that bus/ferry route was gonna be a doozy, so that's why my Dad, June and I flew off the island when we left (a first for me). As my Dad said after landing in Singapore: "If I ever come back, we're flying. We're old and we like doing things the easy way. And that was easy." Fair enough.

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More photos below:

Bali Rafting on the Ayung River

Somewhere there's a Barb in that helmet and PFD combo.

Our raft guide photo bombing like a G.

The Buchanan ladies aren't having any fun at all.

Tioman

The always lovely waiting hall for the ferry.

Ken, looking ever so regal, in front of the Bushman, their home for a few nights in Juara.

We got dumped on. And what can I say? SE Asia has made me a wuss with the cold.

Kuala Lumpur

Trying all kinds of new weird foods. I'm sure there's some weeds in there as Ken would say.

Celebrating Merdeka Day (Malaysian Independence Day) right, in front of a giant Malaysia One made up of pineapples and small flags.

KL Tower.

Gili Meno

The three Gilis on our flight in. We went to the one in the middle.

Scuba logbook/happy hour time.

The Buchanan's home for the week.

Lots of both Hawksbill and Green turtles in the Gilis.

Bout to head on down.

Barb and I conducting a very serious buddy check before getting into the water.

Bali (Ubud)

'The Devourer' Approves

While traveling I think people are mainly scared of three vastly different things: bathroom situations, language barriers and food. As you probably know I've spouted off quite a few words on the toilet subject already (revisit those entries here and here). I think we all know where I stand on that. As for language I don't have much to say, mostly because my Bahasa Melayu is still in a pitiful state. Plus, so many people and places in S.E. Asia speak English that wandering about round these parts is largely a breeze. Unfortunately, I'm too American for my own damn good. I can't learn a second language for jack squat. But I did take my first language lesson a few nights ago, so we'll see how that goes.

When all three of these issues collide that's when I think folks can really freak out. Just running the possibilities through one's head can get people's pits sweaty and their reservations ramped up about visiting novel locales. Apprehension quickly sets in. These three topics spook people into staying at home.

But it's all for naught. In my opinion, the toilets of the Malay archipelago are superb, people love it when you chit-chat or crack lame jokes in broken Bahasa, and the food is delectable. The cuisine over here has kept me constantly saying my favorite phrase: “satu lagi,” which means one more. Yes, I'll have one more portion of beef rendang, one more pulled tea, one more nasi lemak, wrapped in its tell-tale banana leaf. Why of course I'll have another skewer of chicken satay and grilled veggies, make it five actually. And don't forget to drizzle it all in peanut sauce.

I'm no hoity-toity gourmand. I just get a huge kick out of scarfing food. My reputation as “the closer” has even followed me to Malaysia. During summer camp, which just took place, I even picked up a new nickname: "the devourer," which has quite the nice ring to it, in a sarcastic, horror movie kind-of-way.

Luckily food is everywhere out here: restaurants abound, street stalls flourish in hectic cities, and in most villages you can plop down at a plastic table in someone's yard and eat a meal. Maybe even watch “Iron Man” with their son while you slurp your noodles too loud. Enough of trying to describe the scene out here in paragraph form. Let's have the pictures and, I hope, the humorous captions do the job for me.

Mee Bandung, one of my favorites from over here. Coincidentally the best version I've had hails from Juara. I try it everywhere, but it's never as tasty as here. Mee is noodles and Bandung is a city on the Indonesian island of Java. The noodle bowl is slightly sweet with crushed peanuts, veggies, an egg, chunks of chicken and squid, and fresh lime all dancing together. *** All photos can be enlarged by clicking them.***

The precision squeeze is key! Dani loves it too. I put her on game with this one. Mee Bandung is like the mole (delicious Mexican chocolate cinnamon chile sauce) of S.E. Asia. When it's on I can't get enough and nothing tastes better, but when it falters, and it usually does, it don't taste too good.

What else can I say about dude, I gets bizzay.

Bakso, an Indonesian staple found everywhere: from street vendors and roadside markets, on bicycles and at airports. It's like French Onion soup with veggies, spice and usually beef or chicken meatballs. The quality of the dish and meat vary, but just like Mee Bandung, when it's on point the taste is a doozy.

Three classics on the Juara eating scene (from left to right): crispy, deep-fried squid (one of the only times in life dipping things in mayonnaise is acceptable), spicy sambal chicken and veggie curry. Sambal is a sweet chile sauce packing flavor and heat. I dig it even if it induces hiccups often.

Gado-gado, another Indonesian go-to. I translate that to “whatever tasty veggies you got in peanut sauce.” We've had it with noodles, rice, boiled egg, tempe, or tofu. One translation we saw on a menu read “Peanut Sauce Salad.” That doesn't do this one justice.

The ubiquitous Nasi Lemak wrapper. You can find these mini-pyramids gracing many Malaysian tables in the morning. Do yourself a favor and eat like three. I do.

First, unwrap the banana leaf to get a solid look at what's inside: coconut rice, anchovies, sambal sauce, peanuts and usually, but not from this one, egg.

Second, take your right hand and get busy. Spread that sambal around. Don't think too much about it. The anchovies in it are salty morning morsels. Don't pick 'em out, these miniature fishes know what they're doing.

Third, consume with gusto. It's one of the classic Malaysian breakfasts, but feel free to chow down a couple at nighttime, in your hotel room, while your girlfriend looks at you oddly, judging your audacious appetite. I bet she wouldn't use that adjective.

You can score some serious Indian food in Malaysia and Singapore. On this journey we discovered butter chicken (top right corner). The sad part was that it took 28 years to first eat it.

Daniel behind a roadside Soto Ayam (chicken stew) stand in Bali, whipping us up a few bowls. I feel like this photo would give a Maricopa County AZ health inspector a heart attack. Peep the dangling chickens.

The finished product: rice, veggies, eggs, noodles, crushed onions, broth, spices and chicken. They don't waste no chicken here. You get bone, liver, chewy chunks, feet and whatever else was on the blade before they tossed it into your bowl.

Nasi Goreng Ayam. Another classic. It's either rice or noodles (or both) mostly every day out here. Feeling down about just plain fried rice? Top it up with some fried chicken. No matter where you go in Malaysia and Indonesia there will always be fried chicken available and, yes, it will always be yummy. These countries know how to fry.

Izzati, you got caught! Tom Yum chock full of veggies and fried squid. Double meal - take it to the stage!

Shaving ice for two classic Malaysian beverages. I bet some hipster in San Diego has this machine and on Wednesdays they make local-infused gin slushies with it. Probably sprinkles them with basil grown off their bike trailers.

On the left we have ABC, which contrary to stereotype (based on color) is not the Lady's favorite drink. Her go-to is Cendol, on the right and filled with coconut milk.

ABC all mixed up and ready to give you a brain freeze. The shaved ice goes with sweetened condensed milk, rosewater, sugary jelly-rice doo-dads, corn and kidney beans. Trust me, the corn and beans hold their own. For me those kidney beans not only are delicious, but provide a stream of fiber in a sea of diabetes.

Malaysia makes lovely drinks. One pet peeve of mine is that any beverage ordered-to-go comes in a plastic bag. I hate it. It's like getting an IV drip to sip on.

Malaysian kue, which are various pastries and gelatinous sweet treats. Sometimes rice is thrown in. Here we got a few takeaway ones, which I have already started to nibble on. I like the slimy green ones.

Izzati whipping up some Fishnet Roti at JTP. Roti is bread in Bahasa. I give her an A for presentation and style.

The rotis all rolled up, tiny airy pancake-esque nubbins that get dipped in curry sauce. Alli can eat like 10 of 'em. I've seen it.

Chocolate sweetened condensed milk. Like whoa! My consumption of this canned milk is already 478% more than when we were in the States. Finding this special can (the only time I've seen a chocolate one) on our scuba liveaboard in Komodo made for a splendid day.

Drizzling it on freshly-fried banana doughnut balls. From this session alone I think I created three cavities. Worth it? We'll see what my dentist bill is when I return to the U.S.

Alli around our spread on the liveaboard. Our cook never did anything fancy, but that didn't stop him from whipping up the best meals we had in all of Nusa Tenggara (Komodo, Flores and all those other forgotten islands east of Bali). We got chicken, noodles, three veggie dishes and bomber Flores mangoes.

Glutinous sticky rice in a bamboo log, which serves as its pot. You line the bamboo in banana leaf, shove lots of rice inside and cook it over the fire. This is what you call magic rice. You can eat it plain it's so tasty.

Izzati modeling a bamboo full of said glutinous rice.

Now time for some fruits: red pineapple.

Massive jackfruit growing right off the road in Juara. At special occasions here (weddings, engagement parties and Hari Raya) folks make jackfruit curry, a favorite of ours. The fruit is meaty and filling.

Sackful of durian! I've already blogged about these exquisite fruits here, but just to reiterate they are quite a bonus to living here. This old rice bag was filled with around 20 durians and in one day the small JTP staff ate 'em all.

We also were lucky enough to have Izzati make durian glutinous rice dessert. She turned the durian fruit into a creamy concoction with a texture similar to clam chowder, but don't think savory, think sweet, sweet jungle fruit.

Locally made banana bread by Alli. We had one bushel of easily over 100 bananas at JTP so she made lots of bread and all I contributed was my stomach space.

This is like the fourth photo of me hovering over food. I didn't get the name “the closer” for nothing. “Typical” Alli just muttered.

Babi guling! Aka suckling pig prepared in a variety of ways served all at once. A Balinese speciality.

Pork explosion: satay, fried skin (so greasy and good!), roasted belly and another mystery side we can't remember. It was pork though. And incredible. We even snuck some onto the plane on our way out of Bali.

Kek lapis from Sarawak, Malaysian Borneo. It's dense layer cake. Alli didn't like it, but I was a fan. Sadly this Oreo flavor tricked me as it was bland as can be. But the other ones I ate were lovely, especially the Milo one.

Sometimes you just have to consume a weird chicken bun on the public bus taking you to the Cat Museum (see here!).

Bun creeper. So steamy.

Kopi ice in Maluku! Beverages are big over here so I like to stop constantly and drink them, preferably strong coffee ones with lots of milk and sugar. While Indonesia has lots of robust black coffee I have developed a weak spot for the sweet. Alli is concerned I'm getting into Type 2 territory.

Malukan kue! Another yellow gelatinous cake, crispy brown sugar rice squares and a rice roll stuffed with salted fish and peanuts. A plate of these with your morning joe never hurt nobody.

In case you're worried Coca-Cola contains pork products they have a way of reassuring you.

I said I love beverages, especially fresh mango ones at the base of the Gunung Lukon volcano in northern Sulawesi.

A Sunday feast! We have a plate of roasted and fried pork, BBQ satay and cap cay veggies (fried in oyster sauce). And yes, a big bowl of rice too.

Lost in translation? This was the Ice Cream Sundae we ordered. A little bit of sundae, mixed in with shaved ice and fruit cocktail. No fudge or chocolate sauce, but that wafer stick thing was tasty.

Switching gears at the end of the blog here. This is not from SE Asia, but from Kathmandu, Nepal. Alli and I really dig the Asian breakfast (seriously - rice, hot sauce and egg is wondrous) but after over a year in Asia the American breakfast at our hotel blew our minds. Consider me patriotic, but all the six mornings I spent in this vibrant city started off with this plate. So simple and tasted just like home.

Yeah buddy.

If you read the post about things we miss then you know we were jubilant to see “Mexican” on that sign. They might have thrown some Nepali curry powder into the refried beans, but that didn't matter. The fajitas were huge and sizzling, and they actually came with “real” tortillas. Well, real enough.

Welcome to Asia where even the felines enjoy a bowl of rice for dinner. R.I.P. Bucket, you were a jolly jungle cat and would eat anything.