Cameron Highlands, Malaysia

Following several weeks of beaches and islands and coastal towns (I know, I know, I live a tough life), the Cameron Highlands were a much needed break from the sun. The altitude provides a cool, pleasant temperature and it felt great to not have the sun beating on me as hard. The cool temperature alone was enough for me to like the place, but the real reason I was there was the excelling hiking. There are also strawberry field and tea plantation tours but hiking is the reason people come here. Strawberry fields and tea plantations are what you do when you need a day off from hiking the sometimes intensely difficult hiking.

The Cameron Highlands are were American Jim Thompson went missing in 1967. There are a lot of theories behind his disappearance, some of which would make a watchable Hollywood movie. They are also the place were I suffered multiple bee/hornet/wasp stings including several to the face and neck. More on this in a bit.

The first day Shaun and I ventured off on our own. Naturally we got very lost and never made it to our goal but I enjoyed the hiking all the same. This was probably the most difficult hiking I have even done. In truth it was probably stupid and unsafe to continue as we did but it worked out. We make it out OK and with no harm done barring a few scratches and muddy clothes.

Another day we went out with a Canadian couple we were sharing the room with. This is when things got bad. The guy, Tom, was a markedly better navigator than either Shaun or myself. Things getting bad was not his fault, just bad luck and poor timing. At some point the four of us crossed paths with a swarm of bees/hornets/wasps. We do not know what they were; they were like nothing else I have ever seen. They were red, so I doubt they were bees, but I have no idea. Regardless, they did not take kindly to my presence in their presence and let me know it. Tom got stung as well but mostly on his legs and arms. They got my legs and arms as well but mostly went for my head and neck. The left half of my face was so swollen it, but not the right side too much, looked obese. I could not fully open my left eye and my vision was blurry (which is awesome when you are hiking). I often felt dizzy and said that I should not walk in the very front of very back in case I lost my balance due to something other than the normal difficulties of the hike or simply passed out. I normally do not get worked up over injuries; most of the time they work themselves out and require nothing more than a little attention. However, I had only been stung by a bee once prior, on my foot, which swelled up to thrice its normal size - there is a real chance that I am allergic to the stings of whatever just stung me.

Unfortunately, in our efforts to escape their wrath we ran. I lost my sandal and we lost our way. We tried to make it work and figure something out but it was no use. We stopped and discussed our options. It was clear the whole time but nobody wanted to be the first to say it: our best, and really only, option was to turn around and go back through the area where Tom and I got stung. We had figured that they did not stay there, that we merely crossed paths and they had probably moved on. "You can get your sandal," the Canadian girl, Michelle, said. Yeah, I could, but I could also faint leaning over to retrieve it. So, we turned around and headed back. Tom was in front and lead the way, I followed a bit behind as my pace had slowed and I was down a sandal on less than ideal terrain (everybody else was wearing shoes). Tom reached the area the bees/hornets/wasps had been and started yelling and screaming. He ran forward. I yelled also, behind me, to run in the opposite direction. It is amazing how fast you can run when you need to in the same place you struggled to walk not too long before. It is more amazing that the bees/hornets/wasps seem to understand what we were doing and chased us down. We lost them, somehow (I think they got bored), and lost Tom as well. We yelled for him ("Marco!") and could hear his response ("Polo!") but could not see him. We made a new path toward his voice to avoid going back through The Area Where Jay Gets Stung on the Neck and Head (and, yes, does retrieve his sandal). We found him pretty easily (we are no Jim Thompson after all) and collectively decided to get the hell out of there. Tom and I were getting worse and getting out could take hours and hours depending partially on our speed but mostly on our ability to navigate and not get lost.

On our way out were disregarded many norms of responsible hiking. We basically just did what we felt we had to to get out as quickly as possible. We just kept walking, sliding, climbing, whatever it took to get out. We finally found the edge of the forested area but could not see a way to get down the decline in front of us. We sat down and slide down on our backsides and hoped for the best. It worked out and we were nearly home free. We needed to walk though some flower plantation (easy and beautiful) and then walk the short distance back to the town to catch the local bus back to where we were staying. We exited the flower plantation and realized we were not in a place to walk back to the town to catch the bus. We somehow ended up in between the two towns. We were not sure which was further away and decided to walk in the direction of our end destination instead of to the place to catch the bus. I decided to try to hitch hike. After about 10-15 minutes of fruitless attempts trying to get a ride a pick-up truck finally stopped. We got in, laughed at the ridiculousness of our day and enjoyed the cool air running over us.

I spent the next day doing nothing.

After a day off I was feeling and looking normal enough to be in public so Shaun and I made our way to the Malaysian capital of Kuala Lumpur.