47 km

While we were eating breakfast, Dave decided to get the laptop out and see how the Packers’ playoffs game was going (we had unlimited wireless at the hostel). We ended up getting hooked on watching the play-by-play field animation and notes and stayed in the hostel until the game was over. Sadly, they lost in overtime. Darn! We decided we better get on the road, since it was already 11:30.

We rode South through the city again to the bike path that follows the coast to the East around the airport. This time the city part of the ride went even smoother, as we knew a bit more of where we were going. Once on the path, it was quiet and smooth sailing without all the weekend roller-bladers. We got to the boat dock at about 1:30 and had a snack, and got on the boat at 2:00. The passenger-only boats here are called bumboats. You step on the deck on the back and then step down about four steps to the inside, which has benches on either side for probably about ten passengers. There was only one other young man on the boat, and the boat driver helped get our bikes down inside. It was a really pleasant ride as Dave and stood on the steps in the back with our heads out in the breeze. The ride to the East coast of Malaysia took about an hour and was pretty smooth.

At the Malaysian dock our boat sidled up next to another boat that was tied to a third one next to the ladder. We had to get our bags and bikes across two boats and up the ladder to the dock. I was worried, but it all went very quickly and easily, with the driver and dock guys getting things right up to the dock with ease. They didn’t even knock the bike mirrors out of place.

Welcome to Malaysia – Dress Code for Cyclists

We then had a quick an easy check-in with immigration – a small office for a quiet entry port – and hopped on our bikes to start our Malaysian tour. Wee! We were on a very quiet country road in the humidity and heat with a complete change of scenery from Singapore: small shacks and fenced in compounds lined the road. I kept saying to Dave, “We’re in Malaysia! We’re in Malaysia!” This was my first international border crossing on a bike, and it was so easy. Here we were, riding along like it was no big deal. Kids were waving and shouting, “Hello!” and giggling, and it seemed everyone had somewhere to go, mostly riding scooters.

“We’re in Malaysia! Ohmygosh, we’re in Malaysia!”