The One "All by Myself!"

So, back in Kota Bharu with the beginnings of a cold, and Rod has just left to go home. For the first time in 9 months I find myself totally alone.... and it sucks.

I read, and dabble in the interent and even venture into town to potter around the market, returning to put on my kaftan as it's a very muslim area and I felt a bit uncomfortable with a vest top on. I even manage to eat dinner at the night market, and marking my first afternoon flying solo as a relative success, catch a taxi to the bus stop, and then join a bus over to the west coast.

It's a nine hour bus ride, and I even manage to sleep pretty well in the large comfortable seats, but it means I arrive at 6am in the morning, and still have to catch another taxi and a ferry before I arrive in my destination of Langkawi.

I arrive in Langkawi about 7.30am, and already feel a bit down. It's much bigger than I expected, and no where near as lovely as the Perhentian Kecil that I had left behind the previous day. I catch yet another taxi, for the 20 minute ride to the beach and then spend a dispiriting half hour trying to find accommodation that isn't really pricey.

It's not that it's particularly expensive, but whereas in Oz you pay for a bed, here you pay for a room, and I was now paying the same price that yesterday I was paying for 2!

I finally find a reasonably priced room, and bathroom, but it's only once I move in that I realise there is no sink... cue brushing my teeth over an open drain on the floor. mmmm!

I was that close to going straight back to the ferry and going straight to Thailand. I had limited ringots left, and did not want to get out more moeny only to have to change it tomorrow.Plus my recent words to Rod of " no, please take my driving license home, why would I possibly drive in Asia", come back to bite me in the bum, when I realise that Langkawi is too big to traverse by foot.

The only thing I really wanted to do today was to go to the cable cars, and the price by taxi seemed a bit on the high side.

I decide to do something positive... and in a moment of maddness hired a bicycle.

Those of you who know me well, know that I am not a born cyclist. Worse than that... I'm not even a very good cyclist. Joggers have been known to overtake me, and the last time I got on a bike at home I ended up face first in a gorse bush. So I have no idea what possessed me to cycle, other than the fact that "it doesn't look far on the map"

I set off, and straight away feel fantastic. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and water buffalo wander aimlessly accross the rice paddy's, plus I'm getting the all over ready brek glow, that comes with doing something which is good for your body like exercise.

I soon come to the bend around the airport and reckon I must be about half way there, and then comes an amazing bridge over a laggoon, where I stop to take some pictures.

I press on, children are waving to me from their gardens, and cars and scooters beep me in acknowledgement as they rush past, but to be honest, the thought is dawning on me that it's strange to see a cyclist on these roads. A beetroot faced, sweaty cyclist at that, whereas the scooter riders look cool calm and collected.

Feeling a bit dispirited, I then see a sign that says there are 14km left to the Cable Cars.... and if matters aren't bad enough, now the road starts to go up hill.

I walk up and ride down a couple of hills, until I feel I can't possibly go any further, and then see a sign which means I have only gone 1km since the last one. No way... I can't possibly cycle 13km more to the wretched cable cars, but I've also come so far, that turning back may well kill me.

I push on, passing some monkeys at the side of the road, that I am way too hot to appreciate, and then finally find a cafe to have a drink.

The woman here says it should only be a 10 minute ride to the cable cars from here, and with sweat literally pouring off me, I just pray that she's right.

I set off and sure enough, and with a whoop of joy I reach the cable cars.

I am literally shattered. I am soaked front and back with sweat, and it is totally obviously to everyone else who gives me weird looks.... although, that may also be to do with the way I smell.

I get into a cable car and set off to the top of the mountain which is about 700 m above sea level. I thought I was over my fear of heights, but it turns out that when you're on your own, things seem a lot scarier. The wind howled around the cab, which swung like a pirate ship ride, and then the oncoming cab dropped something out of the window, which dropped in slow motion taking about 10 minutes to reach the tree canopy below. It was then that I grabbed on to whatever I could that seemed secure in the cab.

This photo pretty much sums up all the emotions I was feeling at that moment!

At the top, the view was wonderful, although I couldn't help but feel it would have been more wonderful if i'd taken a taxi, and had arrived cool calm and collected.

Back at the bottom, my bike and I take a taxi ride over the hilly part, and i cycle the rest of the way home (to save face!)

It turns out it's 22km THERE, so i had done at least 32km today, in the heat of the sun.

NEVER AGAIN!