Discovering the types of food you could get in Malaysia was an adventure we both enjoyed! Food seems to be available anytime... anywhere! Stalls just spring up, especially at night, selling all sorts of tummy tucker!

The Nasi Lemak was something I had to try...a breakfast dish consisting of rice, peanuts, crunchy dried fish, cucumber and a curry sauce. To a Western stomach, this was not the stuff of my dreams...but it's something that has to be tried!

A little more in line with our idea of the morning meal was Roti Canai - lovely flaky, layered "bread" stretched and cooked on a round grill and served with a dipping sauce of daal. Variations of this Indian dish have struck up, no doubt to please the Western palate - "Roti Bakar" became another favourite - bread more like we know it, toasted with a wonderfully sweet sauce in the middle. Then we discovered some other deviations: the traditional style "roti" was served with a dipping sauce of condensed milk, or stuffed with a banana mixture! Addictive to the tastes of sweet-seeking tourists!

"Porridge" was a bit of a discovery! In hospital for several days and unable to eat anything, Andrew was quite excited when the doctor said he could have some "porridge" for breakfast. Not, we discovered the "Uncle Toby's" variety...not even the "no name" brand of oats. Porridge was simply rice... watery rice. All was not lost however, as the doctor also allowed him to enjoy it with soy sauce! Mmmmm. Andrew, however, opted for a "sprinkle" of sugar. Such was the thrill of eating again, he actually enjoyed it! By the second, third and fourth servings he was a little less thrilled!

Fond of eggs, the Malaysians seem to be! Quite often we ordered a meal such as noodles, and found a fried egg perched on top. Delicious curry puffs, but then another bite found a strange texture....of course - boiled egg! A plate of sizzling noodles, drenched in a dark brown sauce and served on a hotplate. Delicious - but under the noodles lurked a fried egg just waiting to be discovered!

The Nyonya style of food was much spoken about and when we found the Nyonya Museum in Malacca closed for lunch, we went to the adjoining cafe to wait. There we had terrific food - Andrew had the Popiah the spring rolls with tasty fillings, wrapped in a soft covering. I had the Nyonya Laksa which made me cough and splutter with the first mouthful, until I realized that the chilli was mostly floating on the top and if I dug deeper I got less of the burn and more of the flavour! Delicious!

Many Malaysians eat with their right hand and it is amazing to sit in a K.F.C. outlet and watch each dainty right hand delicately separating the chicken from the bone. Malaysian fingers work with dexterity and speed to manipulate all sorts of foods with apparent ease. An interesting social comment was made at a Disney display in the Makota Shopping Centre. Here children were "educated" on table manners and given a certificate at the end of the session. A princess-style lady instructed and guided children through the use of the implements laid out on the table in front of them. It was nothing to worry about, she said, that one little girl was having difficulty extending her little finger as she drank from a tea cup! A cringe moment occured, however, when she declared that it was important to use a knife and fork because eating with the hands was dirty.

The shopping centres themselves, abound with all things western - where a coffee at Starbucks or and ice-cream at Baskin and Robbins costs more than four hours wages for a waitress.

Once the locals, particularly the taxi drivers, find out you are from Australia they are more than willing to offer you all they know about your fair country!

Once you say you are from Australia, the floodgate is open "Sydney?" "Melbourne?" they ask and it's incredible the number of people who have relatives and friends studying somewhere downunder!

A very chatty taxi driver was pleased to hear we were from Australia and he spoke, in hushed tones, about how he very much liked a singer who was from Melbourne. From his approach which seemed to invite us into some secret to be shared, he whispered that he was, in fact, fond of a singer called "Kylie Minogue"!

Another cabbie was an absolute wealth of knowledge on Pauline Hanson. The whole journey was a recount of her recent history, although we were a bit confused as to why he was so fasciated with this icon of Australian politics!

Arriving in a hotel in Taiping we were a little alarmed..."The Crocodile Hunter is dead" the owners said once they found out we were from Australia. They continued to elaborate with details of how he met his gruesome end in the clutches of a crocodile. We thought the worst had happened and that we had just been out of touch with news headlines back home. Months ago this horrible event had happened, they informed us. It was then that Andrew realized that it couldn't be true and he reassured them that when we left Australia, Steve was fine! Relief all round!

The special people we met were kind enough to explain a few things that were puzzling to us, looking at Malaysian life as outsiders.

A curious thing happened when it started to rain in Malaysia... head-covering became an urgent concern! A drop of rain and one hand was automatically raised and placed on top of the head. One baby had the "good fortune" of having inventive parents who tied a plastic bag over her head. Utterly confused by this quiet panic that happened with a sprinkle of rain, Daud explained to us that Malaysians are afraid of "sunny rain", believing that it leads to sickness. As we looked on with confusion at the Malaysian habit, I'm sure the feeling was mutual. One man said to us "You walk in the rain?" unable to comprehend that we were welcoming the rain to break the uncomfortable heat we had been feeling!

Around K.L. we started noticing people pointing by holding up a clutched fist and indicating direction with the tip of the thumb. Triggering a vague memory, we recalled reading that Malaysians considered it rude to point with the index finger. Knowing something and successfully erasing a well entrenched pattern of behaviour, we found, were two entirely different things. We also realized just how much pointing we do as we fumbled to tuck away the offensive finger and replace it with the indicative thumb! Garry put our minds to rest, however, when we asked him about the offence we would cause by our pointing. He assured us that offence would not be taken, the Malaysians would just assume we were uneducated!

And then there's the old paranoia and over-generalising of things that you hear about the customs in the country you are visiting. "Remove your shoes" was fixed in my brain as a "rule" - something that was expected before you entered a Malaysian house and something I tried to remember. However, arriving hot and tired in Alor Setar I deliberately pushed the "right thing" to the back of my mind and trompsed into the room with my bike boots on. A lady bearing towels approached, removed her shoes and placed the towels on the bed. Any concerns I had about my boots inside being a problem were erased when she said "Your bikes will be safe there, but if you want to make sure you can bring them into your room." I figured she wouldn't be too concerned about my boots after all!

Impossible to generalise in such a multicultural population, but we did meet some interesting characters and some special people who gave us a glimpse into the Malasian way of life.

The business end of entering Malaysia alerted us to the friendliness of this nation. At the customs office we were sat down and offered all sorts of sweets and nibbles - after all, it was Hari Raya. All were welcomed and encouraged to help celebrate the end of Ramadan which is a month-long period of fasting from sunrise to sunset. It is also a period demanding abstienence from smoking, sex, lying and cheating. Some people have said that being in a Muslim country during Ramadan can be a bit grim, because the locals are understandably less than jolly during this testing time. But during Hari Raya, celebrations abound!

Along our journey this welcoming friendliness was continually encountered. When we asked for directions, people usually insisted that they "show you the way' and would walk with us until we were in sight of our destination.

Unexpected, unplanned moments can, of course, lead to the most special times - or at least make for good stories some way down the track! A stay at the Makota Medical Centre was not on our "To Do" list for Malacca. However, it was fortunate for Andrew that his continual vomiting and diarrohea happened with such a good hospital nearby...even though Andrew, connected to his drip, surveying the hospital ward, didn't quite appreciate his "good fortune". We were also extremely lucky to be staying at the Kancil Guest House owned by Daud and Fatimah. Their help and support was greatly appreciated by us...if only Andrew had taken Daud's advice earlier "Po Chai" he assured Andrew was the answer to his tummy turmoil. Still unsure of what these little black pearly beads do, we have packed a supply in our medical kit for the next time the grumbly guts grips!
Once well, we set off for Shah Alam, not really on the tourist track, but the site of BMW motorcycle repairs... a leaking fork seal. But meeting Garry, the BMW motorbike mechanic was certainly one of the highlights of the trip. Great mechanic, but also a terrific and generous guy. And he also knows where to find some amazing garlic prawns and curry crab in KL!

It was fantastic to have these people who so generously allowed us to step inside their world for a moment. Just through being with them, and continually bombarding them with questions, we started to gain a little understanding of what "being Malaysian" means.

How different can riding in Malaysia be? Tarred roads, riding on the left-hand side of the road... There are many similarities, but the differences became obvious to us the minute our tyres hit the road.

The notion of personal space is very culturally-determined. I know I really like my space and can sometimes feel "crowded" in Asia. So this notion of sharing "my space" on the road was challenged immediately when a biker revved up and rode alongside me before continuing to weave his way on through the traffic. Now we know to expect any space to the side, in front or behind us to be utilized by any form of traffic! Startled, when a car sidled up alonside us, at some traffic lights near Shah Alam, our immediate reaction was to shoot a glaring look at this driver. But when we turned to the car, the faces of all the occupants were beaming and hands were waving frantically! Made us think about how people can view things so differently!

The idea of lanes is quite a fixed notion in Australia, but rather arbitrary here. Lonely Planet refers to the invisible third lane on a two-lane road. That's exactly it. Straddling the dotted line simply creates a third lane! How simple and how space-effective! This flexibility continues with all aspects of road use: one way streets are one-way...sometimes. And we asked a local Melaccan girl, Carol, about the pedestrian crossing lines as we didn't entirely trust that they would operate the same way as we thought they should! "Do cars have to stop here for people to cross?" we asked. "Yes" she replied "Must stop." And after a pause she added "But sometimes don't".

We have adapted to the flow and "road rules" of Malaysian traffic; but their riding style is unique - to be a local you must wear your helmet with the straps undone and flapping in the breeze, wear as little clothing as possible except for a long-sleeved coat worn back-to-front (to protect the arms from sunburn) and you need to be texting on your mobile at the same time as you are riding! We would certainly need more time to master this style and dexterity!