Johor Bahru; fighting the urge to kill

Johor Bahru, Malaysia would be a quick 15 minute bus ride from Singapore, if it wasn't for the thousands of Malaysians who travel back and forwards.

Singapore employs many Malaysians for the menial tasks of running a city. Street sweepers, maids, labourers etc., make up a large percentage of the labour force from Malaysia.

Singapore is an island just off the Malaysian peninsular, joined across a narrow strait by a causeway. It serves a purpose but it's not pretty. The traffic across is solid from one end to the other. Singapore's immigration offices are housed in an imposing concrete structure that stands as a sentinal when viewed from the Malaysia side. 

I thought it did nothing to encourage Malaysians to enter Singapore. Maybe that's the point.

The lanes of traffic waiting for emigration to Malaysia are several deep. Tourist buses wait their turn to be given the OK to pass onto the causeway.

I lined up waiting for my turn to pass the emigration counter. I took the bus from Woodlands to the border, did the necessary paperwork, then boarded another bus to take me to Johor Bahru otherwise known as JB. In JB, I joined the immigration line for entry into Malaysia. The whole crossing took about an hour. The causeway traffic moved with all the speed of a stoned snail.

Once in JB, the contrast in standards of living is immediately apparent. The streets are less clean, some shops store their excess supplies and garbage on the street and the general look and feel of the buildings and streetscape is poorer than Singapore.

By this time it was midday and I looked around for a place to eat. A large shopping complex is a short walk from the immigration office with plenty of eateries. After a meat and vegetable stir-fry, I began my search for a travel center.

I tried to look as inconspicuous as possible, but with a small back-pack, walking shoes and 20cm above the average population, it was going to be difficult.

As I rode an escalator in the shopping center, a voice behind me said "Hello sir, are you looking for something?"

I turned to face a neatly dressed older man with a white, friendly smile. He introduced himself as Sonny (or Sunny) and asked for my name. He was very polite and unassuming.

On other trips to developing countries, many of the locals hound you to buy their products. Sonny seemed friendly without asking for anything. It's always important to ask locals for advice and my immediate thought was "Here's a man who could help me get to where I want to go."

"I'm looking for a travel agent in (another part of JB)".

He asked, "Would you like to see a little bit of the district on the way?" 

Of course I wanted to soak up as much of the scenery as I could. After all, when would I be back in Malaysia? So I readily agreed to a tour by taxi of the area.

Then a strange thing happened. Sonny hailed several cabs but I noticed that most of the drivers drove away after shaking their head. I asked Sonny why we couldn't get a cab, and he explained that they can't all go to the district I was going to. Sounded fair enough to me. 

Of course, I couldn't understand what he was asking. He must've hailed 20 cabs and I began to suspect that something wasn't right, until a taxi came that was happy to take us.

Sonny asked if I'd like to see the King's palace, the royal Chinese burial ground, a Muslim mosque and other local features. So we spent an hour or more, looking at these sites and even stopped to talk with some local residents who were building a fence along the street in front of their house. It was all such a contrast to my own way of life. I found it all interesting and exciting. We stopped for a few minutes at each place so I could take videos. At one place, I pointed the camera towards the taxi in which Sonny sat waiting. 

Once back in the cab, he was very interested to see what I'd taken pictures of. He seemed satisfied that I was a regular tourist and we moved on.

So after a time with the afternoon drawing on, I felt the need to move on to the center where I could buy a ticket. I had no idea where we were and was completely in the hands of Sonny and the taxi driver. 

After a drive along wooded roads, past roadside shops and businesses, we arrived at the shopping center. The taxi stopped outside the centre and I asked about the fare.

Sonny announced that because this was a personal tour with personal commentary, in comparison to a tour company's price, USD290 was fair value. 

I knew immediately the meaning of "being taken for a ride".

"What!!" I cried in disbelief. "You must be joking. There's no way I'm paying you USD290."

After some haggling and recovery from shock, I took a mix of Australian and United States notes from my wallet and shoved $70 into Sonny's hand.

I watched in dismay as the taxi pulled away, with Sonny licking his fingers to sort how much he'd suckered me for.

Red hot mad at my stupidity, I wandered into the shopping complex. It's not often you meet a con man, but I reckon this one spotted me from half way across the causeway.

After all that, the air tickets to Vietnam were no cheaper than could be bought in Singapore.

I asked the travel agent how much a taxi fare to JB would likely cost. He said "about 7 ringgits". That's a little more than AUD2. This information didn't make me feel one bit better. I knew I shouldn't have asked.

I found myself fantasizing about how to slit an elderly Malaysian's throat in his own country and dumping the body in a pile of street garbage. You can be sure that I looked at every man I saw on the way back to JB. I knew it was pointless; Sonny and my money were gone.

It all added up; the multiple taxis who wouldn't take the fare, the explanation, the interest in what was recorded on camera and other little clues that now made sense. To top it off, no cheap air ticket either.

There was one consolation. Adventure comes in different forms and price variations.

I arrived back in Singapore late afternoon and found my way forlornly to Josh's lodgings. I was almost too embarrassed to admit my foolishness, but Josh said, "Let's go eat. I know a great place and the food is cheap." And he was right.

I knew I could trust Josh.

Next time; Singapore Sabbath.

Singapore and a cheap ticket

Early next morning, I set out by bus to meet up with Josh in Woodlands, another part of Singapore.

I slept well despite the earlier childish tantrums. I felt perky and alert and ready for action.

I was soon impressed with the Singapore transit system. I was soon impressed with Singapore as a city state! 

It's a thoroughly modern, well organized place. Everything works to a timetable. I think an atomic clock must tick quietly in some central bunker. The trains and buses are clean and comfortable and always on time. The fares are cheap too. Owning a car in Singapore is horrendously expensive so there's a huge incentive to use public transport. I heard that just to get a licence is around SGD65,000, maybe more.

The train stations blend into the street scape and don't look much like train stations. It's really a light rail system. The trains pull up behind walls. Doors slide open and you step right into the passenger car. No waiting beside tracks or on a platform. It took a bit of getting used to.

Everywhere is comfortably airconditioned which is just as well. Stepping outside into the natural air causes your breath to be sucked up in the humidity. Too long in the damp atmosphere and you feel like a used dish rag. The locals say that Singapore is either hot or hotter. It's never cool. Today being Saturday though, it wasn't too bad. It must've been just hot.

Travelling around Singapore, you discover a well laid-out city. There are large public areas that are lush and green thanks to the many tropical showers. Spreading figs, poinsianas and palms cast shade over streets and footpaths. There is little change in the landscape though. It's generally flat with some rising ground in places.  The locals live in high-rise apartments, most about 10 to 20 storeys. The apartment blocks cluster into separate districts with excellent connections by train and bus. The roads linking the districts are wide and beautifully smooth. I was told that Singapore's airforce can raise and lower parts of the roads for lifting aircraft ready for takeoff, using the road as an airstrip.

I easily arrived at the place where Josh was staying. We both used mobile phones that work perfectly in this modern city. It was great to see him again. A familiar face in an unfamiliar place has a welcoming aspect to it, even though it's only 7 hours from Brisbane.

Josh knows his way around Singapore pretty well and has adjusted to its culture. You see, he married a Singapore girl and is therefore partly local anyway. We got right down to it and Josh suggested a couple of airlines that offer cheap tickets.

Because he'd already been to Thailand, he told me about Khao San Road in Bangkok as a must see tourist spot. Tickets to other parts of Asia were supposedly cheaper there too. Thanks to the magic of Internet, I booked a return flight to Bangkok with Tiger Airways for SGD99. Josh heard a rumour that if you skip across to Johor Bahru, Malaysia, there is a place that sells really cheap tickets to Vietnam.

Johor Bahru is right across the strait from Singapore and easily accessed via a causeway bus. A day pass can be added to your passport on the Singapore side, so that's what I did.

The Malaysia causeway is very near Woodlands so it was an easy bus trip to the border immigration office. By now it was mid-morning with plenty of daylight and the prospect of seeing another part of Asia. I hadn't planned for any of this. I was driven mostly by bargain hunting air tickets and partly by adventure. 

Johor Bahru gave me adventure that I could've done without.

Next time; Johor Bahru.

Singapore arrival

Near the end of 2005, my nephew Joshua told me of his plans to travel to south east Asia with a mate.

I remarked somewhere in the conversation that "Vietnam's a place I've always wanted to visit".

"Why don't you come with us then Uncle Phil?"

My wife who was sitting with us said "Yeah, why don't you? It'd be an adventure."

So on an impulse, an adventure began. And here's how it happened.

It's true. I'd always wanted to visit Vietnam. Vietnam is a part of Australia's military history. When I was seventeen, I fully expected to be drafted on my nineteenth birthday. Drafting worked on a ballot system. If your birthday fell on the day elected, you had to sign up. Australia had a change of government in 1972. The new government abolished all conscripts to Vietnam and withdrew troops already there. I felt a bit cheated but there you have it.

Joshua was a uni student at the time, meaning he had little money. Travel to SE Asia on a budget was his only option. He planned to bunk down with a mate in Singapore, buy a cheap ticket to Thailand, then head back to Singapore then across to Vietnam. Effectively, Singapore would be a jumping off point to places in that part of the world. He would be away for about three months.

We arranged to meet in Singapore after his trip to Thailand then fly across to Vietnam. That was the plan.

In the last week of December 2005, I arrived in Singapore to find Josh'd run out of money and intended to wait out his time until some student funds came through, then head home. That's the version I remember, but his recollection is a little different. Whatever the story, I was in Singapore without a travelling companion and the plan out the window. 

Josh though, was an endless source of budget travel ideas. He'd scoured the Internet for deals and could point me in the right places for best buys. As a budget traveller, I of course was interested in cheap travel too. I'd never travelled in back-packer style. So it was with some trepidation but brimming with confidence, that I set to finding my way around this never-before-seen piece of Asia.

I stayed in a friend's apartment. He was studying in Japan and gave me the use of the place for a couple of days. Half the apartment was already let to a Japanese woman and her two young children. I had a room with en suite; she had two other rooms and we shared the kitchen.

She'd recently separated and was waiting for a Singapore work visa.

I taxied from the airport and bought some bread, milk and a few other supplies to tie me over the weekend. The food was in a little shop; part of a fuel station. Being early evening, it was the only familiar food I could grab in a hurry.

The Japanese woman spoke little English and I speak less Japanese. Although I know "hi" from a brief karate lesson, it didn't help much.

At bed-time, her 8 year old son became uncooperative and sounds of screaming broke through from behind my door. His mother screamed back and sleep was impossible.

I imagined myself kicking down the door, standing feet apart, putting on my fiercest face and pointing at the child, mist and backlighting adding effect. The child would scurry behind his mother and meekly disappear into bed.

Too many SBS Japanese movies!

Instead, I took a chocolate and peeked through the door and offered what help I could.

The boy took the chocolate and sat on my knee. In a little while, he'd dropped off to sleep. You might think that's my imagination again, but I have that way with some kids. I think his mother was glad of a little help.

So ended my first few hours in Singapore.

Next time; looking for a cheap ticket.