The real action started when we arrived in Kota Bharu – we waited longer for the bus that never came (as in the one that went past after about 10mins and Bee says that’s not our bus) than our actual flight from KL... With a 70yo Muslim woman cracking up at us every five minutes, we weren’t exactly sure where to look. That is, until she and her companion hailed a taxi straight from the wreckers that looked at least 100 years old, and we jumped in next to them. Introducing “Mr.Man” - the taxi driver of taxi drivers. With his broken English and toothless smile (oopss, sorry there was one), he was a pisser. 6RM later and we were at our accommodation, the AR Garden Hostel. That’s pretty much all we have to say about Kota Bharu. Other than rats and cats of course....
Mr Man was the designated driver the next day to our jetty of Kuala Besut (1 hour - 30RM about 12 bucks) – the gateway to heaven. On the way he decides to partake in a conversation with Gerard. As is always the case Gerard bites off more than he can chew and decides to ask Mr Man in five different sentences how often per week he travels to Kuala Besut. Mr Man (obviously noting Gerard’s ability for a laugh) has absolutely no idea what Gerard is asking and laughs hysterically in agreement just about crashing into the tobacco fields “yes yes how many ha ha how many” and then turns and carries on his driving duties. After realising we had no money for the islands that, by the way had no ATMs, we decided to buy a bottle of vodka on the black market and we were on our way... We were travelling!
