Homeward, by Way of the Stomach

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoThe last morning of a holiday always has a slightly guilty air about it. Nobody announces that it’s over, but everyone is already folding things in their heads, and the view from the balcony starts to look like something you’re being asked to return.

Breakfast first, because I’m not leaving on an empty stomach. The spread was decent. Hotel buffets tend to blur into one long tray of scrambled eggs, and I’ve stopped pretending otherwise. The nasi dagang was the exception, properly good and worth the trip to the counter twice. I went back a second time and I’m not sorry.

Then a final lap of the resort with the 360 camera, which I’d been meaning to do all weekend and had somehow put off until the last possible moment. That’s very much my style. The place is hilly. Not charmingly undulating, actually hilly, the sort of gradient that makes you wonder whether the architect had ever met a guest carrying a breakfast’s worth of rice. The camera, being 360, records everything, including the man holding it pausing to admire views that were mostly an excuse to catch his breath.

Packing went smoothly enough, and we were out before noon. I consider leaving a hotel before noon a genuine achievement. Other people run marathons.

The first stop came quickly: keropok lekor. I had told myself, quite firmly, that I’d hold back for lunch. That resolve lasted roughly as long as it took to smell them frying. A road trip on this side of the country without keropok lekor is simply an inefficient way of getting home.

The proper stop was Temerloh, for lunch at Go’ Bang Maju Tol. Anita had her patin tempoyak, which she’d been quietly looking forward to all morning, and it showed. Tempoyak divides people, and I think that’s rather the point of it. My mee rebus udang was excellent, generous with the prawns and with a gravy that made a convincing case for slowing down. Of the two dishes, mine was the safer choice. I’d argue it was also the right one, though I wouldn’t argue it at the table.

Then into Temerloh town to charge the car. This is still a new ritual for us, and I’m undecided whether I find it tedious or rather civilised. A charging stop forces a pause you’d never otherwise take. On a full stomach, it’s hard to object too strongly to being told to sit still for a while.

The return leg delivered the jam around Karak, as reliably as the weather. There is something almost reassuring about it. If the Karak traffic ever cleared, I’d assume something had gone badly wrong elsewhere.

Home around half six. Bags dropped, shoes off, and the particular silence of a house that has been waiting for you. Nothing much happened for the rest of the evening, which was exactly the plan.

It was a nice break. Not a grand one, nor a life-changing one, just a few days of good food, steep paths and nowhere urgent to be. These days, that’s the sort I’ve come to prefer.