Brief stop in Kuantan

We didn’t really want to stay in Jerantut, so we inquired about getting share taxi from the jetty to the eastern coastal city of Kuantan. The driver who we were dealing with gave us some story about the late boat people being charged RM 30 more for a share taxi (he even had an “official” rate sheet), so we opted to try our luck in Jerantut. Fortunately, the Swedish couple we were in the taxi with was desperate to get to Kuantan and said they would pay 80 if we would pay 40 because they were going anyway – that was fine with us.

Although we could have caught a bus to Cherating, our next destination, when we arrived in Kuantan at 7pm, we thought we needed the rest and a good shower. On our way to finding the New Capital Hotel, we walked by the huge blue and white Sultan Ahmad Shah State Mosque which was lit up and beautiful under the full moon. The Chinese run hotel was clean and quite cool and ventilated, with an attached bathroom and shower. It was also very central to everything we needed.

The east coast of Malaysia was a lot different that the west coast. The east was far less developed: cities were smaller, the roads weren’t as developed (there didn’t seem to be a complimentary major highway project that they had on the west coast) and there didn’t appear to be too many Chinese or Indians like there was in the west. This had two effects: it was harder to get good Indian food (you can get Chinese in ANY city in the world!) and the Muslim influence was much stronger, evidenced by many more mosques and a general feeling of having to strictly adhere to the Muslim code. Beth could feel the stares one day in Kota Bharu when she had on a tank top and shorts – it wasn’t a comfortable feeling and we never repeated the mistake.

The next day was set out to work or way to Cherating. After some confusing moments regarding which bus station to go to (Lonely Planet strikes again: all destinations were serviced by the new bus terminal next to the stadium!) we got a local bus to Cherating. As happened when we rode buses, it was a bit stressful to see when we should get off. There were lots of Cherating signs for what seemed to go on for many miles, but we had to rely on the bus driver to let us know where to get off – he did, and we were grateful. Traveling by bus in a foreign country could be very intimidating – you basically had to put complete trust in strangers to let you know when to get off.