Tanah Rata, Cameron Highlands

In the morning, Anna and I took the bus to Tanah Rata - the Cameron Highlands. Named after British surveyor William Cameron who mapped the area in 1885, the Highlands sit at around 1,500 metres above sea level - which explains cooler temperatures and the lush, green landscape. The British developed it as a colonial hill station to escape the lowland heat, and today it’s famous for its tea plantations (BOH Tea being the most well-known), strawberry farms, and misty mountain atmosphere.

From the previous day, we knew a bit about the bus terminal - but again it wasn’t as easy to find our gate as we would have liked.

We asked the lady at the gate about our bus and she said: “Not here. SIT DOWN.” Well, that put us in our place.

Since it was another 10 minutes until scheduled departure, I quickly hopped to the loo. Max. 4 minutes. When I got back, apparently our names had been called out, as Anna informed me. 😁

We moved to the door to go outside. We got yelled at incoherently by the oh-so-kind lady. It turned out she was gesturing towards the scanning machines - we ought to scan our boarding passes. The scanning machines with gates that open once the scan is successful were nowhere near the actual door, and were incidentally rather superfluous, since there’s no way to reach the gate unless you’ve already scanned your boarding pass upstairs.

Once outside, there were several buses and we had no idea which one to take. We asked a bus driver who barely looked at us, refused to say anything, and just gestured vaguely towards a bus. Not gonna lie - being addressed that way, or rather not addressed at all, got me worked up.

At least it turned out to be the correct bus.

The first 4 hours of the ride were fine, but the last hour, snaking through the curved Highland roads - ah, I think you know where I’m going with this. I was rather green in the face.

From what I could glimpse from the bus, the Highlands are lush and green and a wonderful sight - so much nature! I had hoped for a view at my hostel. Or for a clean hostel…
Well, the view is nonexistent. Tanah Rata is a rather unsightly town whose apparent goal was to have as little green around as possible. Not much care went into the design of the buildings - maybe the odd one - but countless others are more conspicuous for all the wrong reasons.

The rain that had been falling during the bus ride and gave the Highlands a lovely, mysterious atmosphere was now rather bothersome in town. It is actually cold here, incidentally! I wished I had an extra sweater.

After dinner, Anna, Sally (who had taken an earlier bus) and I took a Grab to the night market, 10 minutes away. It was actually nice - in spite of all the rain.

The biggest seller here in the Highlands is definitely strawberries. Red ones and white ones. Almost every food stall sells them. Tea and street food were popular, too.

I arrived back at the hostel at around 9pm, ready to head to bed and maybe work on the blog.

Suddenly, a girl from my dorm went outside and sprayed something ferociously. She came back inside immediately, bringing an intense smell of citronella with her. And I mean intense. The citronella - a plant-based mosquito repellent derived from lemongrass - had seemingly decided to replace nitrogen as the primary component of the air. Oxygen, appeared to have been collateral damage. Said girl then thought it necessary to continue spraying like a maniac in the en suite bathroom and in her bunk bed, which was merely covered by a curtain. The air was entirely unbreathable. To say I was angry was an understatement.

I cursed under my breath - loud enough to be heard - while coughing my lungs out.

Luckily, we had a balcony, onto which I stormed. The air was marginally more breathable there. I was joined by two other girls from the dorm who had also woken up, since none of us had yet evolved to live off citronella.

The balcony turned out to be yet another excellent venue for sleep-hindrance.
People were partying in the streets below - testosterone-fuelled bellowing and chanting. It was 1am when things slowly quieted down. The other two girls and I kept chatting - with occasional glances at our watches, followed by the “I’m so tired” lament.

Sometime thereafter, the smell - while still very much present - had dissipated enough to allow for some shut-eye.”

The pics for today are scarce and nothing special. Merely an impression of the night market.Read more