Difficult first week

I only had one day in Kuala Lumpur to prepare to leave. Never mind, the road awaits me!

450 km between Kuala Lumpur and Singapore.

I only have five days to cycle to Singapore, 450 km to the south. From there I had to take a cargo freighter to Taiwan (a plane is cheating), and the shipowner confirmed to me that the boat's scheduled arrival at the port had been brought forward by one day on the initial schedule. .

Getting back on the road stresses me out. The jet lag does not help, I do not fall asleep until 4am in the guest room of my friend Alex. I think of all that is to come.

When the alarm goes off - far too early - I struggle to collect my thoughts.

However, I find known gestures in my preparation for departure. Buckle up my over-full saddlebags, wondering what takes up so much space and weight. I of course know the answer. All-season clothing, health products, bike repair, food, water, sunscreen. By applying this sunscreen to my skin, which will soon turn brown again, I am smiling a little.

It’s going to be fine.

Out of town

Last look at the towers before leaving.

I knew what to expect. Cycling in Kuala Lumpur is an adventure in itself. Getting out is even more so. Everything is only freeways in this city. Motorists are nonetheless courteous and hunker down, passing me as I roll onto the shoulder of the equivalent of the metropolitan highway. At each ramp, drivers wait their turn and don't even honk their horns. KL is a crazy city, but not a crazy city. Maybe they take pity on me?

However, it is not pity that I would have needed, but training! After 7 km, my legs hurt. After 8, my knee operated on a few years ago throws me. By the tenth kilometer, I almost feel like throwing up as I push on my pedals to climb a hill. In the background, the imams sing the afternoon prayer. I'm sweating and my new bike sweater is dripping with sweat.

At the same time, a man on a scooter passes me. He sends me a thumbs up sign. Finally, pain or not, it feels good to be back in this good world.

My body is in pain

First photo with my new acquisition: a drone!

I stop to eat in a roadside boui-boui. I visit the toilet (ie the hole) and remember the absence of paper. From one of the two cabins comes out a man who has according to several sound and odor clues made a number 2. In the absence of paper, you can imagine that he must have used at least one hand in his cleaning. Without going through the sink, he returns directly to his workplace ... the kitchen!

I just like not thinking about it. What do you want to do ?!

I take the road painfully. The worst is my butt. I lost all my beautiful "buttocks horn" that I had accumulated. Then I have a new saddle, which I am not quite sure of the comfort of yet. Struggling to ride in this extreme heat and humidity, I end most of my days well after dark.

This long road to Singapore also continues to stress me. Will I get back in shape? The same happiness to ride? Do I have too much equipment with me? My bike and its equipment still weigh nearly 60 kilograms!

As I drive through the old colonial town of Malacca, I force myself to stop these questions and simply enjoy the pleasure of pedaling. This pleasure which will undoubtedly return as my pains go away ...!

Malacca and its great Chinese influence.

The Malaysian-style monokini.

Bamboo rice

A little bit after Melaka, I pass several smoky stalls where pieces of bamboo are cooked. I don't stop at first, but quickly turn back so as not to lose the opportunity. I have eaten once before mang, that sticky rice cooked in a bamboo stick, and I know it's amazingly good! The technique comes at the origin of Orang Asli, this aboriginal people of Malaysia, but is now widespread in the Malay world.

To prevent the rice from sticking, banana leaves are put inside the bamboo stalk. Rice is added to this natural cylinder, accompanied by coconut milk. Then the tubes are placed against the fire. I point one at Jafar, the manager of the small display. He then takes the piece of bamboo, then takes it with a small ax. By peeling off half of the tube, the rice surrounded by banana leaves is reminiscent of sushi before it was cut into slices. What Jafar then performs in front of me.

He wants to give it to me as a gift but I see how hard he and his young helpers are. I leave them an amount of money when I leave.

The preparation of Lemang could not be more artisanal.

Jafar, the manager of the place.

The good people

Despite the constant pain and my significant mileage to go, I quickly regain the taste and the habit of talking to people. Malaysians are curious and interested every time I stop eating. And each of these conversations and encouragement is a further push to Singapore. And then, I will always be able to rest on the boat!

A display which is reminiscent of that of Ordralphabétix. " It's a fresh fish. "

We wouldn't be in Malaysia without the roadside fry.

Mohamed, in front of his convenience store.