WHERE'S MY TAILOR?

Thirah, my niece who always tags along with us!

Pirate Thirah looking ouot for her lbounty oot

Sorry, this vampire has no fangs

Thick lips are beautiful. No Botox needed here!


A sweet floral frame for a sweet princess

I am not a dumb blonde ok?

Goofing around with a clown's face

Ouch and poink!

Nemo has reached JB

No durian lover would miss and ignore this!

With the durian seller who flagged our car to stop

Parked the Terios beside the makan stall

Had luch at this stall. Weather was so hot!

At last the carbo would give added energy

Thirah's lunch - biscuits and bread

With Abah

Thirah with Nenek and Tini

ENDED UP WITH DURIANS INSTEAD...

Had planned with my hubby for a trip to Kota Tinggi during the holidays. There were some materials which I wanted to be tailored into kebayas. Mini Kelantan was my usual haunt except for once when we drove for another 8 km more to reach the Kota Tinggi Waterfall.

We stopped by at roadside makan stall to fill our growling stomach. There were lemak, curry, asam pedas and the 'ulam' to tempt you. After sipping the 'teh ais' and getting lost in space, we left for my favourite tailor shop. Luck was not with me as Su, my tailor had left for Pahang and none of her other assistants were around. I cursed myself for not making an appointment with her before hand. I always tell myself to be positive and not make everybody's mood affected by the circumstances. We walked around the area, venturing to other places which we had not covered in our earlier rounds. We came across another cafe which served wonderful western food.

Since we were not in a haste, I managed to spend more time at Kota Tinggi and bought two suits of baju kurung for office wear. Had I been stuck with Su, I would not have the time to find the new cafe nor the brown and orange baju kurung which I bught. Sometimes, life has its pleasant surprises. And sometimes the surprises can come in double doses. On our way out of Kota Tinggi, a lorry driver of Muar D13 durians was hailing us to stop. I'm for one would not give good durians a miss. Parted with RM 25 for six durians that were selling at giveaway prices.

Beggars can't be choosy right?

MERSING ON MY MIND...

SING TO MERSING

Mersing with its rustic and modern charm blend as one

Modern shop houses mix with old ones

The busy waterway of Sungai Mersing from Sungai Mersing Bridge

Fishermen with their day's catch

Evidence of economic development pushing its way at Mersing

Packets of fresh fish cracker for sale

Stopping by at a keropok stall

Rollin gout the fish dough with some tapioca flour

Minced fish meat beig weighed before rolled out

Hubby formed part of the workforce at the fish cracker factory

The fish rolls are boiled before slicing them up

Drying the fish slices before being packed

Had a Malay food for lunch at Air Papan.

Ikan leleh pechel on the blue plate and siput lemak keladi in the pink bowl with the spoon

A mother hen nestling eight furry chicks under her

At one of the carnival stalls selling batik shorts

Upin and Udin t-shirts for the kids

Ina and I resting at the carpark

Abah with Thirah on the swing at the park

Hubby with one of the workers at the ferry jetty

Boat laden with supplies for the offshore islands

Ferry waiting for passengers

Standing the jetty stand

At the bank of Sungai Mersing

It was low tide and the boat had receded in the background

Boats non-stop ply along the river

Stopping at a pisang goreng stall en-route to Mersing

MISSING MERSING

Mersing has expanded in recent years into a busy coastal town, gaining reputation as a gateway or a transient path for its passenger boat jetty to some of the most beautiful offshore islands like Tioman, Aur and the Besar Islands in Peninsular Malaysia. These droplets of islands dimple the waters just off Johore’s coastline. These islands range from mere rocky outcrops - home to hundreds of nesting sea birds to legend steeped islands - now home to basking tourists and eager divers.

My last trip to Mersing was like twenty over years ago, as a geography student studying human geography. And the last time I drove past Mersing was during the last World Cup on the way to Kuantan. We skipped this fishing village in our hurry to book a hotel at Kuantan. I vowed to come back again to Mersing. You see, when we are in hurry we always miss the beauty in life.

We drove 150 km from Singapore to reach Mersing, the gateway to nature and traditional culture. Mersing still retains its old charm that represents in many ways a fast disappearing small-town culture that once pervaded all of Malaysia. Economic and urban development have still yet to swallow Mersing wholly and all its old shop houses and two roundabouts that form the artery of communication lines in the middle of Mersing Town.

There are only two junctions with traffic lights in the town, and only two traffic roundabouts. You would never get lost here even if you drive blindfold. My neck gave me a strain as I kept looking on the left and the right of the road which was lined with traditional and modern shop houses that provided a range of modern services interspersed with traditional fruit sellers, grocers and modern supermarkets, plus a range of local restaurants and fast food outlets, with some remaining open for 24-hours. The sea food restaurants kept screaming for my attention as they dotted along the road endlessly.

As soon as we entered Mersing, our mood and the surrounding atmosphere totally took a change. It's a laid back town, no hustle and bustle of the city life was present. You just take things as they are at your own leisure and comfort. Mersing is a throwback to the small town temperament that existed in Malaysia some twenty or thirty years ago. There is little (if at all) in the way of chic clubs, cafes or shopping malls. It's appeal lies rather in its out-of-doors, its slow-paced life and natural surroundings such as jungle reserves, unspoiled beaches, rocky coasts, and offshore kelongs for pleasure angling. The laughing toothy smile of the villagers and the shopkeepers who welcomed you as you drove past your Singapore plate car in front of them was very endearing.

We stopped at the the boat jetty where many travellers and backpackers were heading straight off to their choice of islands for scuba diving or bird-watching . You can simply book your holiday getaway on the spot since there are so many booths seling tickets. A young man advised us from parking at the carpark overnight. "It's too dangerous, Bang." he told my husband. We assured him that we were just stopping for a short while and had no intention of leaving the Terios overnight.

Scanning the area, I realised that Mersing's status as a fishing village at heart had not changed much. Sungai Mersing(Mersing River) and a few other tributaries flow gently into the estuary, just a stone’s throw away from the main roundabout in town where we had parked our car. I could see huge mudflats where the river carries its depositional load there. The fishermen were resting after a hard day's catch at the jetty. Fishes were ice packed in boxes, ready to find their way to JB and Singapore.

From the bridge over Sungai Mersing, we saw rows of brightly painted blue and green fishing boats bobbing gently along the banks. The heart beat of Mersing is faster here as the boat owners and workers were busy transporting food supplies to the offshore islands - potatoes, vegetables, rice sugar, onions, bread etc. The exchange of bantering of jokes and the offering of cigarettes were evident of the business transaction that had developed into a strong friendship and interdependence, typical of a symbiotic relationship. Transaction took place openly and it was all done amidst collegiality, warmth and much laughter between the Chinese and the Malays.

Someone directed us to Air Papan Beach, about twenty-minutes drive north of the town. We were welcomed with glimpses of the remaining vestiges of traditional seaside Malay village life. The local fishermen and families live in villages here where mangrove trees once thrived. In their spare time, a few families make do with growing of paddy to sustain their living. The harvesting period was over and the rice stalks lay dry in the fields as organic fertiliser in the few months to come. The slow pace of a village life is very much intact, fusing well into the recent economic developments, and yet retaining a few quiet, tranquil places to stay. Kampung boys gleefully waved at us as I wind down my window to fully smell the kampung life I miss so much.

The kampung folks have become more entrepreneurial. I noticed they run homestay chalets for domestic and overseas stressed-up tourists like us. This would supplement their income to the seasonal earning they earn as padi growers and fishermen. You may opt for a homestay of kampung life beside paddy fields or the seaside chalets fronting the South China Sea if you wish to stay longer. Coincidentally there was a carnival along the beach and besides enjoying the raging and roaring waves rolling towards the shore we also made a bee way to the stalls set up by the locals.

On the way back to JB, we stopped over a keropok factory and lugged behind packets and packets of keropok - ikan parang, tenggiri, tamban and biji nangka. Must I also add that we even bought tons and tons of fresh belacan for the sambal home?

Mersing.....you have cured my 'missingness' in you!