Never ever do this

Never ever do this!! Never arrive in a foreign country as the sun is going down, without water, without food, and without money, assuming that these things can be obtained when you get there. Bad form, and like the naieve fool that I am, I did just that...in Malaysia. The pevious night was spent on a beach in Singapore which was interesting and I'll write about it later. Riding through the frenetic downtown streets of Singapore wearing a sugical mask, while making the act of inhalation a chore, at least filtered out the larger chunks of air pollution. Getting lost in the street "system" in Singapore was a big improvement over riding accidentally and probably illegally on the mega freeway that I had been on earlier so resting in the ferry terminal for the next 5 hours was actually fine with me. As there was actually nothing to eat but a warm breeze blowing through building I got more and more hungry, but knew dinner was a short 45 minute ferry ride away. But waiting for my dinner in Malaysi as it turns out wasn't the best idea of the day. Sadly it wasn't the worst decision I made yesterday either...that would have been travelling by bike without more than about 4 ounces of drinking water.
As the boat pulled into Malaysia the stark difference between it and Singapore was apparent. This part of Malaysia was a jungle paradise with only a dock, a customs office and, well, that was it. Inspired by the beauty I was happy to be out of the city and ready to go. All I needed was some food, some money to buy it with and a place to sleep. All I saw was misty jungle. Hmm. I began to ride down the only road available and was thinking about the Singaporean Christian group (with a minister from Kauai of all places) that I met on the ferry. They were staying at a resort nearby and I thought maybe this was a good backup plan for me if I couldn't find anything else. As it slowly got darker and darker I drank the last of my water and picked up my pace. It's funny how when you don't have water and food you get thirsty and hungry. The thought that I hadn't eaten since breakfast except for my last power bar 3 hours ago was nagging at me and my stomache. It's also funny how, as it got darker, I got more and more nervous...one might even say freaked out. I was cycling in a beautiful part of the world with rows and rows of palm trees and all I could think about was not wanting to have to stop and sleep under one without some water to drink. The road finally came to a T and in the last remaining light I took a right turn and raced up a hill in search of a resort. After maybe 4km I saw some bright lights to the right and headed toward them eventually reaching a town spread over the hillsides. It was a small town with every teenager out and about on their mopeds and fireworks exploding as Muslims are celebrating Hari Raya, the last day of Ramadan. No resort, no hotel and just a small town in the middle of nowhere. But at least it was a town and there were stalls with food and stalls with water and stalls with...
"Credit card?" she asked incredulously, shaking her head.
"Can I buy with credit card?" I asked again, knowing the answer.
I was sweating profusely and shaking now with fatigue. I had no money and this town, no this entire area, had no place to use my card nor an ATM for that matter. Note to self (refer to title of this blog). I must have looked like a martian in my helmet, with my tail light flashing and my head lamp stuck to my forhead because soon a gathering of the moped gang was surrounding me. With my incredibly inept Malaysian and their equally weak grasp of English we managed to communicate and they took me to a small shop where I could charge up the minutes on my telephone card. Oh if I only had a phone...I would have called up loved ones and said goodbye, collect.
I did know how to say "I need drinking water" and I followed one moped to a food stall. When he realized I had no money he pulled out a bill and said "I support". I was too thirsty to refuse. The water was beautiful and I drank it in two long gulps. Yes, the thought that I had to rely on this kids generosity (not to mention small income) because of my own stupidity did go through my mind. As we sat there trying to figure out where I was, what I needed and what to do about it he pulled out his cell phone and made some calls. We rode over to the first shop and the crowd was still there...now with two young guys who spoke english. Lots of discussion about what to do (no there was no place to put my tent in this town etc.) led to the obvious conclusion that they would form an escort of 2 mopeds and lead/follow me to the resort.
"Not far" Alif had said "maybe 12 km". I could do that I thought, barely, but I could do it. After 5km, at the sign that said 17km to our destination, and going really slowly, Alif pulled over and said that Zamrie would ride for me. Now riding a fully loaded 60 pound bike takes some practice, especially with pedals that need special cleats. I began to explain this but was too tired. Damn if Zamrie didn't jump on and weave his way up the next few hills with seat way too high making his hips hula back and forth with each pedal stroke. A kilometer later, his flip flops spinning wildly in low gear, Zamrie reached out to take Hanafi's hand and began the long tow to the resort. I haven't even mentioned the traffic or the car that was passing in the oncoming lane that almost killed Zamrie and the two on the moped, but the thing had a life of its own and we were moving 50km per hour and we were all laughing and enjoying the night. Later on, at the resort dining room we were all sitting down to dinner and ice cream when Alif's phone rang. When he hung up he had a smile on his face and said that the guys back home were jealous.