No Return Flight : Malaysia - South, Part III; Pontian Kachil and Tanjung Balai

I am purposefully skipping the doldrum accounts of cycling through southern Malaysia. It's hot and boring; what else, how else, can I put into words a description of the repetitive motions involved with cycling through endless palm oil plantations that dominate the horizon, that disappear into the tiny black dot where the possibility for sight can no longer exist. It's an experience seemingly out of time, riding motionless through monotony. You know what I mean, you've driven down that straight freeway, all cars driving at exactly the same speed as you. It feels more to drifting than driving; floating rather than having a sense of control. Space and speed seem to loose their meaning.

So here are the more grandeur highlights and accounts of our trip out if Malacca and down onto the most southern point of the entire Asian continent.

Fully loaded Chris, riding down one hell of a bridge. We were told days later that bicycles are not allowed on this bridge. Oops! Well, it wouldn't be the first time we broke pedestrian laws unintentionally. Won't be the last.

A kind bumper sticker reminder. It's always nice when drivers and cyclists share the road.

No dogs in sight, we continued moving down the West coast in the direction of Pontian Kachil. It is not the most southern point, it's about 20km north of there. But whats 20km among friends? We stayed with a new one, a great one, the talented and lovely host Cier.

The trip is unanimous; three thumbs up!

Now that's what I call lunch! All veggies and rice noodles, I'm seriously making up for opportunities lost in Indonesian cuisine.

And so we rode like the wind, leaving our bags behind with Cier, down to the Southern most tip of the continent. And I mean like. the. wind. I was kin to the martial arts competitor who trained with weights tied to his wrists, ankles, and abdomen for strength, only to let the concealed pounds of metal fall onto the hard ground letting the smack startle the opponent's nerve. With no panniers weighing down our bikes and an open highway with legitimate bikes lanes, I f**king flew down those last 20km in a matter of minutes. As a matter of fact, I was going so fast and my bike was so light that I almost seriously crashed.

Made it alive to the entrance of the "park", where Tanjung Piai, the southern Asian tip, is said to be.

Is this, unappealing mush of mangrove swamp, it? No, couldn't be.

Maybe if we walk down this pier we'll find the Southern tip...

...nope, another bust.

Wait, I think I see it! This is either the Southern point or the entrance to Universal Studios Malaysia.