Disgusting Durians

We really liked Singapore and wished that we had, at least, one more day to spend there, but we had already booked a place in Melaka, Malaysia, so we called a cab to hooker hotel and were picked up at 8:45 am. We had scoped out the bus station the day before and decided that it was just too far to go via foot (about 1 mile) and via the metro (up and down several flights of stairs) with our stuff. We know that we're not being true, thrifty backpackers by spending the money to take a cab, but we also realize that we're old and our feet hurt like hell. We expected to catch the 11:00 am bus, but arrived at 9:57 am and were lucky enough to get onto the 10:00 am bus. It was a very nice bus with seats much more comfortable than those on an airline. We paid $20 Singapore dollars each (about $16.50 USD).

We were told the ride would take 2.5 hours, would stop once for food and a toilet break, and would make only one stop in Melaka, at the bus terminal. After an hour, we stopped at a very interesting “restaurant” and I use the term loosely, or truck stop kind've place. We had no Malaysian Ringgits and there was no ATM, not that we saw anything we wanted anyway, so we ate snacks from our bag....... peanut butter crackers, an apple, and water. The bathroom was clean, but contained only squat toilets, so pinky made another appearance.

After another hour on the road, we made an unofficial stop in the town of Muar, Malaysia. We had no idea that we were not in Melaka and started to get off the bus when the bus driver said, “You stay!”.

P- Ok, I guess we don't get off here.

G- I thought we were only making one stop, but it appears that the locals seem to have known we'd stop here.

Bus driver – (to Canadians) You not get off bus!

Canadians – Is this Muar?

Bus driver – Yes. Not Melaka.

Canadians – We want to be in Muar. We're getting off.

Bus driver – Ok. You get off.

About 2/3 of the passengers got off in Muar, and then we continued up the road. The remainder of the people moved up to the front. A girl in her early 20s sat next to us and we began to chat. She lived in Melaka and was returning from her friend's house in Singapore. 3 older women also sat behind us. They were wearing head scarves. We were seeing more and more women wearing head scarves. Malaysia is 65% Muslim.

P- What is your name?

Elaine – It is Elaine.

G- Elaine? That doesn't seem like a very Malaysian name. It seems very western.

Elaine – Really?

G- Elaine, do you know if Malaysia has a higher standard of living than Indonesia? Just from the little we've seen so far, we think that Malaysia looks like a wealthier country than Indonesia.

Elaine – I do think so because I know that a beginner clerk in an office in Indonesia will be paid maybe $100 US dollars per month, and a beginner clerk in Malaysia will be paid maybe $800 US dollars a month.

P- The houses we've seen since we entered Malaysia seem much nicer, or larger, than in Indonesia.

Elaine – Yes, I think so.

We made several additional stops. If someone wanted to get off along the road, they'd go sit on the first step by the bus driver and tell him where to stop. We surely couldn't imagine anything like that happening in America, but it makes sense, except for the fact that it took 3 hours to get to Melaka rather than the 2.5 hours advertised. Because we had taken a bus, and our packs were placed in the luggage area under the bus, we had put them in larger zipper bags that would protect the straps, etc. and could be locked to make theft of the contents more difficult. I had read this tip on several travelers' blogs. The one bad thing about it is that when you get to the bus station, it is more difficult to carry the black bag than the backpack because you're less inclined to pack meticulously.

We had planned to catch a city bus from the bus terminal to our guest house, but we needed Malaysian Ringgits. Elaine stayed with us and walked me around the terminal to the different ATMs while Phyl stayed with the bags. After trying 5 ATMs, all refusing to give me money, Elaine called her sister and they offered to drop us off at our guesthouse. We protested, but after she pressed, we gladly agreed. Elaine drove her 10 year old, 4 door Honda Accord and pointed out the sights as she drove us to the guesthouse. It was difficult to hear her over the radio which was playing all American music, some of it rap. She drove us through the UNESCO site and stopped in front of a pastry shop. But we were not there to eat just any pastry. NO! We were there to taste a durian puff pastry.

Elaine – Have you tasted a durian fruit?

G&P – No. What is it?

Alex (Elaine's younger sister) – It is a very famous fruit in Malaysia. Our father is a durian farmer.

G- It is good?

Alex – You must taste and decide. Some people like it and some don't.

P- Do you like it?

Alex & Elaine – (Giggling) Not so much, but we eat sometimes because it is always in our house.

Alex jumped out of the car and was going to buy us the pastries when I jumped out and followed her. I purchased 2 durian pastries............small puffs about 1” across and filled with durian cream. When we got back into the car, I handed Phyl her pastry.

G- You taste it first.

P- It stinks! Does it taste better than it smells?

Elaine – (Still giggling) Yes, it taste better.

G- That's a good thing, because the way it smells reminds me of the way my dad's socks smelled, when I was a little girl, when he'd come home from work. That is not a good thing.

Phyl & I tasted our durian pastry...............

G- Well, it does taste better than it smells, but I don't think I'll be running out to get another one.

P- It is just slightly better than revolting, but the smell is so terrible I can barely stand it! Just about anything will taste better if you add cream and sugar to it.

For the remainder of the ride, we held onto our napkins smeared with the durian cream filling. The car filled with the disgusting odor.

P- Now I see the reasons for the signs in Singapore!!

G- Yes! In Singapore's subways, there are signs everywhere that say no eating or drinking, no smoking, no flammable substances, and NO durians.

Elaine – Yes, I have seen them. It is funny.

We finally arrived at Apa Kaba Homestay and said good-bye to Elaine & Alex. We thanked them profusely as their help was invaluable and it was so sweet of them to drive us to our guesthouse. We offered to give them money for gas, but they declined. At Apa Kaba, we met Zareel, a cutie pie 23 year old student who had just that day begun working at Apa Kaba. He was getting a Business Degree (maybe his masters degree, but I'm not totally sure due to the language barrier) and was required to intern at a business. We started cutting up with him and after a while we had made dinner plans. Zareel would get off at 6:00 pm and he'd take us to a place he liked for typical Malaysian food.