Almost a month with no updates… Naughty. This is because, to be quite honest I’ve gone a bit mad. The trip was hard enough in a group and on your own it jumps up another couple of notches. For someone who’s already more than a bit cracked… well… Things like maintaining a proper train of thought and sitting still and writing something that can be read by normal people who I don’t bitch and whine over WhatsApp to tend to fall between the cracks.
I spent the best part of three weeks without the banana hanging out in a hostel in Georgetown, which was nice enough, but I kinda fucked up. I’d been led to believe that because of the massive Chinese population it was going to be a massive, cannot miss party so I didn’t go anywhere else as all the other westerners seemed to believe the same thing and the cheap hostel spaces were filling up.
Was it actually a massive party? Was. It. Fuck.
Looks like, at least on Panang, Lunar new year is when you come home and have a big meal with your family and don’t go out and get wrecked. Fuck sake. I felt jipped.
So anyway, the day afterward I took my non-hungover and just a little bit bitter arse to the airport to fly to Medan, a city in Sumatra.
I flew to Medan, got out of the airport and oh fuck, we’re back in rough and ready. I’m kind of sick of rough and ready. I’d just got used to being able to buy alcohol in corner shops again. Oh well. Onwards, I suppose. There’s probably lots of cool stuff I won’t pay any real attention to for one reason or another.
Day after I arrive it’s time to go and get the banana. Thank Christ. I love the banana, for all it’s many many faults and lack of power for a hundred kilo man with fifty kilos of luggage. The first thing to do is go to the office of the shipping agent, which I have VERY EXACT GPS co-ordinates for. It’s a good job, too as it was in a low-rise housing area in a town called Belawan and I had to randomly wander through what looks like a house’s garage to get there. Then it was back and forth between the customs office and the warehouse three or four times while people look at me like I’m from another god damned planet to stamp the carnet and look at the engine number just in case I decided to sneakily change the engine in Malaysia for reasons that I’m sure are definitely very real and not at all a pointless exercise in customs paper checking.
Customs guy was nice and everything, but dealing with customs and carnets is something I’d only wish on Piers Morgan, or possibly Julian Assange.
Anyway. I got the bike, like two weeks ago. Here’s a picture of me looking gormless next to it.
Anyway. So I was in the land of wild orangutans and massive volcanoes. Did I see either of those things or did I decide somehow to say fuck it and crashed like a twat a couple of days later? Tune in next time to find out.