Day 20: On the trail of...

19.07.2016

Even though the night before we sincerely believed that we would never be able to eat anything again, we devour as much as possible during the included breakfast. Despite all the unhealthy stuff I consume, there are probably enough nutrients and ingredients in it to call it a balanced and nutritious start to the day.

For the most part, we spend the day after breakfast in standby mode. Meaning: we walk around, watch fish from the pier, walk around again, and simply enjoy being part of the stunning scenery. I am tempted to jump off the 4m high pier, but no one besides Gudi seems interested. Unfortunately, my attempt to take nice photos of Gudi fails (as it often has in recent years) due to two reasons. Firstly, because of Gudi's excessive self-criticism, and secondly, because of my historically proven and unfortunately noticeable inability to take a sharp photo (the term sharp is not referring to Gudi's appearance but to the quality of the photography).

Throughout the day, we explore the island, discover the much cheaper, Chinatown-ridden second side of the island, and make the dramatic mistake of ordering a smoothie here. 24 hours later, this mistake will come back to haunt us in the exact same spot, but more on that later.

Apart from Banana Cake, smoothies, and funny Asians, there isn't much exciting to say about our day, so I want to explain two aspects that have been on my mind since our arrival in Malaysia.

Firstly, I have rarely seen such an overpopulation of heavy smokers in one place. This one Japanese guy in particular catches my attention - I simply call him Koal[1], as he reminds me so much of a Viennese hooligan. He is about 60 years old and basically does nothing all day except bring his left hand (which holds a beer can) or his right hand (which always has a cigarette in it) to his mouth. Disgustingly, sometimes both at the same time. This sad spectacle is only interrupted by spasmodic, disturbingly unhealthy coughing and Japanese-Ottakringer-sounding shouting that echoes across the beach 24/7.

The second noticeable thing in this country is the obvious influence of a certain political system from the 1940s. I won't go into detail about the "fertility symbols" that look exactly like swastikas and are present everywhere in Asia. But the fact that the currency here is measured in RM makes me somewhat skeptical. Although Gudi says it refers to Malaysian Ringgit, I feel strongly inclined to convert it into Reichsmark. I try to dismiss the sighting of a "BDM" inscription as a one-time incident. After seeing "Mein Kampf" books being sold at Indian train stations and tuk-tuk drivers talking about the size and power of Hitler, we sometimes feel like he may have fled to Asia in 1945, rather than Argentina.

In the evening, we have a cheap dinner and enjoy the sunset. Unfortunately, we have to return to our accommodation quite soon as my initial illness seems to be making a comeback, and it brings along urgent needs.

I hope that getting some sleep will restore my well-being, but in the middle of the night, that hope is shattered. I lie in bed for what feels like an eternity and don't know how to get out from under the covers because I am shaking so much from the cold. When I finally manage to make it to the bathroom and the saving hot shower, I look in the mirror and see that I look as if I had just touched an electric circuit. The shower helps to alleviate the cold a bit, and after some time, I put on my mountain clothes and try to sleep. Gudi tells me that in the night, I was sweating profusely in all directions, but I hardly remember anything.

[1] In the shortlist of names, Herbert, Günther, Horst, or Andi were also considered - in order not to offend anyone personally, the generic name Koal was chosen (although I actually see a Günther in my smoking Jap).