a long and winding road
Preface:
We try to keep our posts short enough to read in one sitting, but this post cannot be written in fewer words than what we’ve managed…….it was a long day and it has taken a long post to tell the story. If you really want to experience it along with us, turn up your heater to 35 degrees Celsius and don’t hope to *achieve* anything today. Happy reading. The bones of this piece was written by Rob, with embellishments (and reminders that turned it into such a long one) added by other family members.
Instructions were to be at Uncle’s by 8am as he wanted an early start. Because we would be hitting weekday rushhour traffic, we were advised to be on the road by 6:45. After a full-to-overflowing day yesterday, including a very late night, this was a big ask. But we oblige and arrive right on 8, to discover Uncle busy working. And not only that – he is going to have to pop in to the city for an hour before we can leave. Agggggh! We could have stayed in bed!
Rob checks van oil, water, tyre pressures… all in business
We get on the road by 10:30. Traffic busy, but not too bad, flowing along the federal highway, a fantastic six lane highway that runs from Singapore all the way up to Thailand. There we are cruising along trying to keep up with Uncle at 100km, our speedo stuck on 90 whether we’re moving or not.
A couple of times as we’re coasting, the van shudders and loses speed, then returns to normal. I quickly ask Rach to check that everything is ok – no flat tyres, no doors open, no bags dragging out of the back of the van? All seems OK and the van returns to normal, so we settle in for the two hour journey to Ipoh. However, at the 44.8 km mark (according to the now-back-in-favour-gps!) there is a screech and whining noise (rattle*rattle*crack*crunch*kerclunk*graunch*graunch) and the van suddenly loses speed. It sounds like a helicopter is landing on the roof – except the noise is coming from directly under our feet. I jump on the walkie-talkie and send out a quick mayday as our speed trails off, whilst simultaneously heading for the shoulder, "Something has happened to the van, I think we’ve just blown a gearbox!" We manage to safely pull over, weaving through safety barriers – but the diagnosis is not good. Although it will still go into gear, there is a nasty metal on metal screeching. There is also a distinct smell of burning oil coming from the bottom of the van… we ain’t going anywhere fast from here! I think that the gearbox is gone; Uncle optimistically thinks it might just be a clutch problem.
Meanwhile, Rach walkie-talkies the front van, suggesting Grandpa reposition the vehicle and turn the hazard lights on. In his haste, Uncle had STOPPED as soon as he got our message…right where he was. Slightly to the side of the road, but still partly in the lane, forcing all traffic to swerve to avoid him.
As it happens, a towie who is passing on the opposite side of the highway, pulls over and, like a vulture descending on its prey, he appears beside Uncle. I am not sure of the full conversation, but given that Uncle is not successful in contacting the AM (the Malaysia AA equivalent), the towie *is* successful in securing the task of taking us to the nearest workshop – which involves a 5km detour to be able to get us onto the right side of the highway (off-ramps are few and far between in this part of town – unlike KL expressways, where every 200m seems to be either an on-ramp or an off-ramp!) But before the van is even hooked up, there’s another adrenaline moment. Thinking that standing on the side of a six-lane expressway is not the safest place for a 2-year-old, I decide to take ER2 to the other van. I have opened the van door and am handing ER2 over the back seat to J14 – not knowing that Uncle has just jumped in the driver’s seat to move the van out of the towie’s way. As I hear Rach shout out, "Look out, he’s moving the van", I feel it start to move. I only have time to quickly push ER2 the rest of the way into the van and push the door closed as I sense the wheel start to roll over my foot. I can’t pull my foot out as my shoe is already trapped, but, thank the Lord, I instinctively scrunch my toes back and feel the tyre squeeze the end of my big toe – just missing my foot! Uncle is oblivious to this near-miss and drives off up the expressway 20m. Broken toes needing a hospital visit would have made the day even longer than it was already going to turn out to be!
After this, Dad and I clamber into the tow driver’s cab, and are followed by the other van with everyone else. By noon we find ourselves in a semi-ghost town with rows and rows of empty houses and abandoned factories, and the towie pulls up outside a small and equally run-down garage. The quickly exchanged glance that I happen to catch between towie and garage workers, reminds me of the those movie scenes in which the hunter returns to the cave with a beast over his shoulder to rapturous welcome; although this time the celebrations are kept under cover! The towie has brought in "the kill"! Here Uncle moves into fast negotiations. Within 15 minutes these guys literally have the van up on stands and the gearbox lying on the concrete in front of us. Hey, at this rate we will be in Ipoh for afternoon tea! Unfortunately the diagnosis is not so positive; the gearbox proves to be bone dry, and the whole thing has toasted itself into a nice package of blue metal filings. An expensive package, mind you!
The schedule, we are told, is that it will take about 2 hours to get a replacement gearbox sent from KL, and about another hour to fit it into the van. All that for the price of a small vehicle back in NZ! Uncle is again optimistic that we will be able to hit Ipoh by 5pm. After a small discussion, we all decide to head into "town" to firstly raid a bank vault to pay for the damage (this being an almost exclusively cash-only society in retail), and secondly, to find a place for lunch. After all, we are in Malaysia, so when the going gets tough, find some good makan (food) lah! (a typical Malay expression like our ‘aye’ that gets tacked on the end of everything). Now, at this point the NZ contingent are all quite relaxed about the unexpected change in plans, but you need to stop and consider the impact all this is having on my Chinese uncle, who by this time is clearly exhibiting signs of tightly controlled stress! Uncle likes to have things go according to plan, and to look after his guests meticulously, so this unexpected development does not sit well with him! I am not sure I will ever fully understand the whole "loss of face" issue, but I DO know that this series of events is not pleasing Uncle!
All twelve of us squish into Uncle’s eight-seater. We have been promised that just a bit further up the road (and that would of course be back towards KL from whence we have just come) we will find the required bank. But a bank we do not find – not even with driving up and down every single street in town. So we head back to a more major road and sit at the intersection while Uncle hangs out the window calling, "Hallo, hallo" to passing motorists and pedestrians, none of whom pay any attention whatsoever. Eventually someone drives up behind us. Aha, a captive audience. Uncle is out of the car in a flash, and returns with the news that we need to backtrack even further to Rawang.
So we do.
What’s more we find a bank. And even more surprisingly, there is a spare carpark right outside the door. But does Uncle use it? No way! He just pulls up alongside, blocking both the free carpark and a security van, while he pops in to do his business. We are "parked" right on a street corner, and even though Rawang is a smallish sort of town, traffic is soon backing up…..and honking. We look back and can count a dozen cars behind us.
Poor ol’ Uncle comes back with yet another disaster story of his time in the bank, and off we head for lunch. We pass all sorts of delicious-looking curry puffs and peanut pancakes, but in Uncle’s considered opinion, they are "just stalls" and not a proper restaurant. Apart from the fact that by now our tummies are rumbling, driving around is not so bad – I mean, we have plenty of time to kill! Suddenly Uncle remembers a particular Chinese restaurant and we turn off the main road into a little side lane, which leads through a residential district.
So we end up with a small banquet in front of us in a nicely air-conditioned restaurant! See, this breaking down gig ain’t-so bad! 🙂 After a leisurely lunch (and under different circumstances I would be inclined to relay more information about the Divine Food or perhaps J12’s chicken head antics, which amused the staff, but for now I’ll stick to The Long and Winding Road), we are back in the squishy van, and taking only two wrong turns, arrive back at the workshop. As it is already 3:30 we are hoping the job will possibly be finished, or at worst, almost done. But the van is still up on blocks, the garage workers sitting around on grimy plastic chairs. The gearbox has not yet arrived from KL. Uncle decides to take a catnap in the car to sleep off the stress of the situation – we take the kids for a walk around the block – or Da ‘Hood as it could be called!
I think I have failed to mention that this has turned into one fiery hot day. And now black threatening thunderclouds are gathering above the hill, where diggers are moving dirt in preparation for a new housing estate to be built (although why you’d build right between two ghost towns is beyond me…if it hasn’t worked twice already, what will be different this time?) A few drops of rain fall and the diggers are quickly lined up on a ridge, the workers leaving them abandoned. You notice these things when there’s nothing else to do.
Well, to cut a long story short(er!) (we’ll leave out the bit about the dead chicken in the drain), by the time we get back to the garage, the gearbox has arrived and the workers are feverishly darting around the van – and Uncle has woken from his sleep, stationing himself in a chair watching proceedings. By 4pm, this small, run-down, back-water garage has witnessed a minor miracle; the gearbox is replaced, engine tuned and the van is ready to roll again! Uncle’s disposition has lightened significantly, and we all prepare to head off, this time with Uncle driving THE van and I am behind the wheel of Uncle’s much newer and quieter van whose air conditioner works properly! I am not complaining! Uncle sensibly wants to drive the van to listen for any more "cries for help" it might utter! And so it is precisely ten hours after forcing ourselves out of bed that we are back on the road and re-approaching the 45-km-from-KL-mark. It’s taken a long time to not go very far at all 😉
The rest of the afternoon and evening pass uneventfully, even though our schedule is somewhat altered! We arrive in Ipoh to pick up Aunty and refuel. (Ha, that sounds so simple, but don’t be fooled. Uncle says to Grandpa, "We need to fill up before heading up to the Cameron Highlands." We round a corner and Grandpa spots a gas station, which he points out. No, wrong sort, lah! Fifty metres up the road is another. Wrong again, lah! We drive up the road in convoy, passing the Highlands turnoff……we walkie-talkie this information to the front van and Uncle decides to do a U-turn there and then, across four lanes of traffic. In disbelief I follow in his tracks. Thankfully, we find a gas station, fill up and grab some snacks for the children, as it is clear we ARE not stopping for dinner. We eventually leave Ipoh behind at 7pm and we have a two and a half hour journey ahead. The drive up to Cameron Highlands is 40+km, twisting and turning up to 1450m above sea-level, not made any better by the darkness or thunderstorm we drive through! Up we head into the hills, which are outlined in the frequent flashes of lightning. Other cars madly, at speed, in the slippery conditions, under the cover of darkness, on blind corners overtake trucks. They are accidents waiting to happen.
Suddenly out of the darkness bright lights appear, banks of them dotted across the hillsides. It transpires they are lights from chrysanthemum nurseries (acres and acres of plastic-covered tunnels, which are lit artificially to lengthen the growing time, enabling the flower stems to grow much taller than they ordinarily would and hence fetch a premium price), and they glow eerily through the rain and mist.
As suddenly as the lights had appeared, silliness hits our van. Tension had been mounting as M6 chattered incessantly. He had earlier been instructed to choose three things he really needed to tell us and then be quiet until we reached our destination! (Fifteen hours of non-stop chat is a lot to contend with, even for the most devoted parent!). But now the silence ban is broken and we all join in. "What did we do the day before yesterday?" J14 has just asked.
"Don’t know and don’t really care right now," Rach replies. For some reason everyone finds this most amusing coming from Da Mama, and they add their own sillinesses.
"Let’s just stop here and go no further."
"What about that house? We’ll stay there aye?"
"I’m tired and grumpy, so don’t make me laugh."
"Look at that sign – it says SELF-PLUCKING. Hahaha. All chickens welcome. Eyebrows optional." (Actually it was for a strawberry farm)
And we all laugh our way around more corners through the still-driving-rain to the apartment. If you turned your heater up as suggested at the beginning, and if it’s taken you as long to read (if you’re still reading, that is) as it took to happen, or even as it took to write, then you might understand the funniness. If not, well, maybe you just had to be there. It was a long and backtracky and winding road!
At the end of the road was another example of just how differently our Malaysian family think. After this whole ordeal and having finally settled into our apartment, soon after 9:30pm Uncle cheerfully announces, "OK – let’s go for dinner". We politely decline as several of the children (younger and older!) are close to nuclear meltdown by this stage…..all they need is a piece of bread and off to bed!
Rach and I finally sit down to "relax" at 10:30pm. It has been a long day, but it’s not over yet! The other adults arrive back at the apartments (having driven down to the town for makan) – but on foot and soaking wet! Yes, THE van decided to not start and stranded them all…Uncle cursed it and they all decided to walk back the apartments to go to bed! Ah, we will remember this day fondly in the years to come!
We will thank the Lord for safe travelling.
Tags: postcard: Malaysia, transport
rayres
wow! what a day! it appears you made a good decision not to go to dinner!!
we’re have great difficulty with the saving face thing. but we’re trying to get it down!
Really enjoyed hearing about your trying day-all part of the adventure. After recently spending lots of $$ on a new gearbox AND it taking the New Lynn mechanic a week to get a new one and put it in, I’m quite impressed with how quick you got yours sorted!
Amazing! What a great retelling. I wonder how much longer and windier the road will get as the story is retold over the years! Definitely making memories!!
Not read it all? NEVER! Thank you so much. I started yesterday or the day before on the beginning, have read to here (long, not snippet version before (“more”) and am relishing getting to Italy where you are currently. THEN, I will follow you daily to the end.
At 75 and my wonderful wife unable to travel, you are almost letting me experience it for myself.
THANK YOU!