Friday, August 21, 2026

Yearning For Yunnan





Intro

I like to travel.

Luar negeri. Dalam negeri. Ke mana sahaja.

Mulanya saya travel dengan anak-anak dan ahli keluarga terdekat. Kami sering travel secara Do-It-Yourself atau DIY, iaitu tanpa menggunakan khidmat travel agent.  Travel secara DIY biasanya lebih economical dan flexible. Ianya lebih mencabar dan memerlukan perancanagn yang rapi. Dan risikonya juga lebih tinggi. Kami pernah travel ke Cairo dan kami dapati hotel yang kami booked tidak ujud!

Akhir-akhir ini saya sering travel berdua - saya dan isteri sahaja. Umur kami kalau dicampur sudah menghampiri 140 tahun. Isteri saya menghadapi osteoarthritis tahap serious. Lututnya boleh roboh bila-bila masa tanpa notis. Saya pula mengambil ubat statin setiap hari untuk melicinkan saluran jantung.

Setiap kali kami meninggalkan rumah, anak-anak kami akan diserang trauma dan high anxiety. Mungkin mereka bimbang kami tertinggal flight atau terlupa tarikh balik. Kami serahkan segalanya kepada Allah dan memohon perlindungannya di mana sahaja kami berada. 

Kenapa kami travel berdua? Sebab anak-anak kami semuanya telah berkeluarga dan tumpuan mereka telah beralih kepada suami/isteri dan anak-anak, dan ibu mertua juga, hehe. Kami insafi reality dan putaran kehidupan ini, dan kami harus adapt dan adjust. The show must go on, so kami travel berdua. So far, so good.

Paling akhir kami travel berdua adalah pada bulan March dan April lalu selama dua minggu. Kami mengembara secara DIY ke tempat-tempat yang rare dan exotic di Europe, seperti Gdansk, Krakow,  Freiburg im Breisgau, Alsace dan Basel. Syukur Alhamdulillah, kami selamat pulang in one piece.   


Gdansk, Poland
 

Jatuh Cinta Dengan China

Pertama kali saya menjejak kaki di negeri China ialah pada tahun 2016 bila saya,  isteri dan beberapa orang adik ipar berkunjung ke Shenzhen dan Guangzhou selama lima hari. Kami tempah flight sendiri dan menggunakan travel agent untuk visa dan ground services.

Saya terpegun melihat kemajuan ekonomi dan gaya hidup di negeri China. Kotanya besar dan penduduknya padat, namun semuanya bergerak lancar dan teratur seolah-olah diprogram oleh computer. Suasananya aman dan tenang, mungkin juga sebab tak ada orang merempit.

Sepuluh tahun kemudian (2025), saya sekali lagi ke China bersama isteri, anak, menantu, dan tiga orang cucu. Kali ini kami mengembara ke Beijing, Hangzhou dan Shanghai, secara DIY. Kami guna high-speed trains, bas, taxi dan e-hailing (Didi). Tak ada masalah, semuanya smooth dan sweet.

Masih terbayang Great Wall di Beijing, the Bund di Shanghai dan Hangzhou night river cruise. Nasi Lemak di restoran Melayu Secret Flavours di Shanghai was out of this world, saya rate 10/10.

Saya rasa mengembara di negeri China sangat affordable. Ianya selamat dan scam-free. Ringgit Malaysia boleh pergi jauh kerana tukaran yang tinggi dan stable. Makanan halal ada di setiap ceruk dan penjuru. 

Hotel dan transport pun jauh lebih murah jika dibanding dengan Europe. Saya pernah naik shuttle train di Switzerland dari parking area di Tasch ke bandar Zermatt untuk melihat Gunung Matterhorn. Tambangnya RM 80 sehala untuk jarak cuma 10 km atau 10 minit. Unbelievable.




Yearning For Yunnan

Selepas pulang dari Shanghai, saya terasa seperti ingin pergi lagi. Saya menyimpan hasrat untuk melihat Yunnan.

Ianya merupakan salah satu idaman kami, high on our bucket list, so to speak. It's a matter of time sahaja kami akan ke sana.  Ramai kawan-kawan yang telah berkunjung ke Yunnan pulang dengan penuh pujian. Iklan Yunnan travel package dari berbagai travel agents sering mengusik saya di social media. 

Sejak bulan May lagi saya telah merancang untuk pergi ke Yunnan secara DIY pada bulan November bersama isteri. Saya telah siapkan itinerary dan sedang berkira-kira untuk menempah flight, hotel dan transport.  Saya percaya kos saya lebih rendah dari tawaran harga dari mana-mana travel agent.  

Namun pada awal bulan July saya terlihat satu iklan sebuah syarikat travel agent bernama IBC Tours & Travel yang menawarkan Best Of Yunnan Tour package dengan harga di bawah RM 4,000 dari 24 July to 1 August. Harga ini adalah yang paling rendah pernah saya lihat.

Setelah dua hari bertapa dan berfikir, saya memutuskan untuk membatalkan trip saya ke Yunnan secara DIY pada bulan November. Saya dan isteri akan mengikuti package IBC Tours ke Yunnan bermula 24 July. Kami tertarik dengan kumpulan yang kecil, iaitu cuma 17 orang sahaja.

Travel To Yunnan

Akhirnya tibalah hari dan waktunya. Pada jam 10 malam 24 July, kami berlepas ke Yunnan dengan Batik Air flight OD 670 dan tiba di Kunming airport jam 2 pagi keesokan harinya.

Setelah lapan hari di Yunnan, kami pulang membawa seribu kenangan. 

Sesungguhnya kembara kami di wilayah Yunnan sangat enjoyable dan inspiring. Kami berpeluang menghayati dan merasai pemandangan yang indah, budaya ethnik Yunnan, perkembangan dan peradaban Islam, dan masakan dan cuisine Yunnan yang authentic. Setiap hari di sana merupakan satu pengalaman dan penemuan yang baru 

Bukan itu sahaja, saya dan isteri juga berpeluang berkenalan dengan ahli-ahli group dan tour leader. I can confirm here that they're all friendly, polite and good-looking guys, dan mereka berjanji akan belanja saya makan nanti haha. Selepas trip pun group kami masih lagi berhubung, dan saya yakin ukhwah ini akan terus subur dan kekal selama-lamanya.

Perjalanan kami di wilayah Yunnan membawa kami meneroka dan mengalami empat bandar utama, iaitu Kunming (ibukota Yunnan), Dali, Shangri La, dan Lijiang. Dalam masa enam hari, kami telah jejaki jarak sejauh 1500 km, mungkin lebih.

Seperti selalunya, selepas travel saya akan menulis dan mencatat beberapa detik manis dan memorable buat saya di sepanjang perjalanan sebagai kenangan. Saya menulis dengan gaya casual, with some exaggeration for effects, dan mencampur-aduk Melayu dan English. 

Berikut adalah catatan saya untuk perjalanan saya dan isteri ke Yunnan. Saya selitkan juga beberapa keping foto sebagai hiasan, ada yang saya pinjam dari sahabat-sahabat yang bersama dalam group kami (mohon izin ya).



 

1. Pre-Departure Di KLIA Pada 24 July

Saya telah diberitahu nama ahli-ahli group atau fellow travellers oleh tour leader dari IBC, iaitu Puan Nini, melalui WhatsApp group. Sehingga sekarang saya masih tidak tahu nama penuh Nini, mungkin next time saya jumpa saya akan tanya. Saya agak namanya Rosnani, sempena nama seniwati dan lagenda Melayu.

Group kami bertambah kecil bila dua orang menarik diri last minute. Tepat jam 6.30 kami berkumpul di check in counter KLIA dan pertama kali kami berjumpa dan berkenalan. Berdebar-debar juga saya dan isteri, mana tau ada artis atau influencer akan bersama dalam group kami.

Rupanya dalam group kami ada sembilan orang dari satu keluarga dari Sabah yang diketuai oleh En Jaludin dan Puan Patimah, dan anak mereka Jasfin dan suaminya Khairul, dan lima orang anak-anak mereka, termasuk yang bongsu berumur 3 tahun. Bayangkan, saya 70 tahun lebih tua dari anak ini.

Turut sama dalam rombongan ialah Puan Noor Azah dan anak terunanya Muhammad Umar dari Jerantut, dan Puan Aeshah dari PJ, dan akhirnya saya dan isteri dari Bukit Jelutong. 15 orang semuanya termasuk tour leader Nini dan local guide Luna berbangsa Yunnan yang menanti kami di Kunming.

Perbualan kami di KLIA agak ringkas, singkat dan serious, mungkin masih malu-malu dan ragu-ragu. Susah untuk saya meneka apa impression mereka terhadap seorang lansia (lanjut usia) seperti saya. Mungkin hati mereka tertanya-tanya "bolehkah uncle dan auntie ni bertahan lapan hari berjalan dan mendaki gunung di Yunnan?" Hahaha.






2. Breathless In Baishuitai White Water Terraces 

Saya tak tau macam mana nak explain tempat ni. Ia menyerupai mineral water terraces di Pamukkale di Turkey, cuma ia terletak di aras 2300 m, lebih tinggi dari Gunung Tahan.

Untuk melihat water terraces ini, kami terpaksa mendaki bukit, samada dengan kuda atau menaiki tangga. Keluaraga En Jaludin dan Khairul semuanaya menaiki kuda. Azah dan Umar saya tak pasti, mungkin berkuda juga. Isteri saya dan Aeshah terus surrender dan memilih untuk tinggal di bawah.

Saya memilih untuk mendaki melalui tangga yang sangat tinggi. Saya rasa lebih tinggi dari batu Caves. Saya lihat ada beberapa orang lain yang menaiki tangga, kebanyakannya sama umur dengan Diana, cucu sulung saya.  

Jujur saya katakan mulanya saya agak takut. Dengan umur saya dan jantung saya yang sedikit tersumbat, bolehkah saya sampai ke puncak untuk melihat water terraces? Bagaimana kalau tiba-tiba saya sesak nafas? Di manakah hospital terdekat?

Tetapi setelah separuh jalan, saya bertambah yakin, terasa sedikit sesak atau breathless tetapi nafas kembali normal bila saya berhenti, mata saya tidak kabur, dan saya masih boleh membaca dan faham message ringkas dari isteri saya " Awak ok ke". Saya sengaja tak respond, supaya dia terus cemas dan tertanya-tanya.

Saya kagum dengan sistem komunikasi negeri China. Di antara bukit-bukau dan hutan belantara begini pun saya masih  boleh menerima message dari isteri saya dengan jelas. Setiap kali saya ke rumah anak saya di Setia Alam, saya akan kehilangan data.  

Akhirnya saya sampai di puncak dan melihat sendiri water terraces dan pemandangan sekeliling yang indah menawan. Lega hati saya bila berjumpa dengan sahabat-sahabat dan tour leader Nini dan Luna. Rupanya Nini dan Luna juga menaiki tangga. Mereka nampak gembira dan excited melihat saya, mungkin tidak menyangka saya masih boleh berdiri dan bercakap. Hahaha.

Oh, toilet di atas ni sangat cantik dan bersih. Saya rasa toilet ini di antara yang tercantik di negeri China.










3. Glacier Park, Jade Dragon Snow Mountain

Ya, typical Chinese name, panjang dan mouthful.   

Jade Dragon Snow Mountain merupakan kemuncak kembara Yunnan, literally dan figuratively. Tidak sempurna lawatan ke Yunnan kalau tidak sampai ke tempat ini.

Puncak gunung ini agak intimidating. Ianya terletak di aras 4507 m, lebih tinggi dari Gunung Kinabalu (4097 m). Kita akan berdepan dengan udara yang nipis, dan digalakkan menyedut oxygen dari balang oxygen yang dibawa bersama. Kita kena bersedia physically dan mentally. Saya rasa lebih confident setelah berjaya mendaki beratus-ratus anak tangga semalam.

Cabaran bermula bila kami terpaksa bergerak dari hotel jam 5.30 pagi menuju Jade Dragon Snow Mountain. On the way kami singgah untuk mengambil balang oxygen. Kami tiba di kawasan bawah Jade Dragon Snow Mountain kira-kira jam tujuh, dan ianya telah pun sesak dengan anak muda yang bising dan high-spirited. Mungkin saya orang yang paling tua di sini.

Berdebar juga saya menunggu cable car untuk naik ke Glacier Park, iaitu puncak Dragon Jade Snow Mountain. Sebenarnya saya ada penyakit fear of heights, tetapi tidak chronic. Heights sahaja masih ok. But not heights without oxygen! 

"Menyesal aku datang ke sini". But it's too late now. Cable car datang menjelma dan kami diarah masuk, my heart sank, no turning back now. Saya dan isteri melompat masuk dan kami duduk rapat sehingga terdengar degupan jantung isteri saya.

Dalam cable car saya perhatikan isteri saya tak berhenti-henti menyedut oxygen dari balang tu. Saya remind dia supaya tidak terlalu ghairah menyedut oxygen. Terlebih oxygen pun ada adverse effects.

Akhirnya kami sampai di puncak (Glacier Park) yang penuh sesak dengan pelancong. Terasa lega yang amat sangat. Hujan rintik-rintik tetapi kami telah bersedia dengan rain coats. Cuacanya tidak terlalu sejuk, mungkin kerana sekarang musim panas. 

Sayangnya kabus tebal dan kami tidak dapat melihat sekeliling dengan jelas. Tetapi dapatlah kami merasa berada di aras yang lebih tinggi dari Gunung Kinabalu.

Dan yang lebih penting, kami survived.





4. Makan Yak Di Shangri La 

Selama lapan hari di Yunnan, saya tidak pernah merasa lapar.

Sepanjang perjalanan kami telah dihidang dengan berbagai masakan atau cuisine Yunnan yang authentic. Dinner dan lunch bagi saya agak lavish, dengan sembilan course, tiga daripadanya sayur. Masakan Yunnan agak kering dan flat, tidak pedas, tidak spicy, dan tidak manis seperti kuzi Kelantan. Untuk pencinta sayur, makanan Yunnan is godsend. Sayurnya hijau, fresh dan tasty.

Saya bukanlah kaki makan, tetapi saya suka dengan pengalaman lunch dan dinner di Yunnan. Setiap kali waktu makan kita akan tertunggu-tunggu apakah menu kali ini.  Pemilik restoran dan staff semuanya muslim dan mereka menyambut kami dengan penuh kegirangan. Untuk dinner di Shangri La kami telah dihidang dengan daging yak. Ya, binatang yang berbulu lebat tu. You can't get more authentic that this. 

Oleh kerana group kami kecil, meja saya diduduki cuma ada enam orang. Saya dan Umar saja lelaki. Mungkin citarasa perempuan lebih discerning, atau mereka on strict diet, food intake mereka agak terkawal. Mereka lebih banyak membuat food review. Akibatnya, banyak left over. Mereka betul-betul makan hanya bila ada telur dadar.








5. Azan Di Masjid Chuxiong

One of the joys of travelling is stopping at mosques. 

Di sepanjang perjalanan di Yunnan,  kami telah singgah di masjid Dali, Lijiang, Chuxiong dan Kunming. Masjid di sini secara physical jauh berbeza dari masjid di Malaysia. Reka bentuknya 100% traditional Chinese, tanpa kubah dan menara tinggi. Kita tidak menyangka ianya sebuah masjid jika kita tidak diberitahu ianya masjid. 

Saya sempat bersalaman dengan beberapa orang Imam dan jemaah di masjid-masjid ini. Sayang sekali kami tak dapat berbual-bual dan bercerita kerana kekangan bahasa. Kami hanya boleh tersenyum dan mengangguk sahaja, seperti itik dan ayam. Saya perhatikan tak ada seorang pun di antara mereka yang memakai kain pelekat.

Kami tiba di masjid Chuxiong sebelum waktu zohor dan sempat melihat bilal atau muazzinnya berdiri di luar masjid dan melaungkan azan, tanpa menggunakan mic. Ini kali pertama saya mendengar azan dari masjid di negeri China.

Azannya agak mendatar, tanpa lagu merdu atau nada yang beralun seperti di Malaysia. Sebutan dan makhrajnya juga agak berbeza. Saya lihat jemaahnya tak sampai sepuluh orang. 

Saya rasa azan kita lebih power, dan masjid di Malaysia juga lebih lively. Tapi kita jangan salah sangka. Islam telah lama bertapak di negeri China, 500 tahun lebih awal dari Malaysia. Saya pernah melawat sebuah masjid di Guangzhou yang dibina oleh Saad Abi Waqqas, sahabat Nabi dan panglima perang tersohor.



6. Lepak Di Lijiang Ancient City

Setiap bandar yang kami lawati di Yunnan kami dibawa melihat old quarter atau ancient city, yang merupakan tourist attraction utama. Semua ancient city hampir sama, dengan deretan bangunan dan structure purba dengan rekabentuk dan character China yang unique. Semuanya very well-preserved, walaupun toiletnya agak mencabar. 

Tidak seperti di negeri-negeri Europe, tidak ada China Town di Yunnan atau di negeri China. Semua bandar di sini sememangnya China towns.  

Ancient city di Lijiang saya rasa yang paling besar dan tercantik. Saya dan isteri lepak di sini sambil menikmati Cotti Coffe. Harganya cuma RM 6.  Mengikut isteri saya, En Joludin sekeluarga masuk studio untuk bergambar dengan mengenakan costume. Yang lain-lain saya tidak pasti.  Aeshah mungkin sedang gigih mencari kasut Skechers.

Tak sabar saya nak tengok gambar En Jaludin dan Pn fatimah dengan costume mereka. Mungkinkah Puan Fatimah akan memperaga persalinan Puteri Hang Li Po? Tolong post ya. 

   


   

7. Membeli Jade Di Pasar Malam Kunming

Entah apa yang telah merasuk isteri saya, dia teringin nak beli gelang jade. Mungkin dia telah terlebih oxygen.

Saya tidak begitu bersetuju dengan idea ni sebab kami kurang arif dengan selok belok jade - Harga, quality, corak, real atau fake etc. Kata Luna, ada jade yang boleh mencecah jutaan Yuan. Mana kami nak cari pitih sebanyak itu. Kami lebih selesa membeli emas di Kota Bharu sebab kami kenal para penjualnya. Lagi pun orang Kelantan semuanya friendly.

Kami singgah di beberapa kedai jade di kawasan Nanping Street, Kunmimg. Harga berbeza-beza walaupun nampaknya sama. Ada jade dari Africa, harga lebih murah. Ada yang mengandungi impurities, lain pula harganya. Warnanya berbagai, dari putih jernih hinggalah ke hijau pekat.

Susah juga nak berkomunikasi. Kami terpaksa menggunakan calculator. Akhirnya kami pejam mata dan pilih satu berharga 800 Yuan, kata penjual tu harga asal 1300 Yuan. Nasib baik dia tak kata satu juta Yuan. Kami tawar sehingga 400 Yuan atau RM 240. Penjual tu menggeleng kepala tetapi akhirnya dia bersetuju, mungkin dia kesian atau suka dengan kami.

Masa dinner saya nampak Aeshah memegang erat beg berisi kasut Skechers. Akhirnya dapat juga dia membeli kasut yang diidam-idamkan. 


 

 

8. Sampai Jumpa Lagi

Akhirnya tiba juga tarikh 31 July, hari di mana kami harus pulang meninggalkan Yunnan.

Selepas dinner di kota Kunming, kami bertolak ke airport dan tiba selepas setengah jam perjalanan. Airport yang sunyi sepi tiba-tiba menjadi gegak gempita bila group kami muncul dan bergelak ketawa sewaktu menuggu di  check-in counter. Flight kami akan berangkat pada jam 2.30 pagi, 1 August.

Turut menunggu ialah seorang wanita Cina dari Malaysia bernama Grace. Dia datang ke Yunnan bersama suaminya untuk melancong, tetapi secara DIY. Suaminya tidak pulang bersamanya kerana ada urusan di Shanghai.

Apa yang menarik, kedua-dua Grace dan suaminya sedikit lebih tua dari saya. Seperti saya dan isteri, mereka sering travel berdua secara DIY. Mereka suka hiking just to stay fit, tidak seperti saya dan isteri yang suka scroll untuk melihat message.

Apa yang lebih menarik dan mengejutkan, Grace dan suaminya telah menempah tiket online  melalui Trip.com untuk menaiki cable car ke puncak Jade Dragon Snow Mountain. Bila mereka tiba di stesen cable car, tiket mereka telah dibatalkan oleh local agent kerana mereka terlebih umur. 

Termenung saya sejenak. Jika saya datang secara DIY seperti rancangan asal, mungkin saya juga menerima nasib yang sama, dan tidak dibenarkan naik ke puncak Jade Dragon Snow Mountain. Terima kasih Nini dan Luna kerana percaya saya dan isteri masih mampu naik ke puncak gunung ini.

Kami berlepas dari Kunming jam 2.30 pagi dengan Batik Air Flight OD 671.

  


Akhir Kata

Banyak lagi tempat-tempat atau pengalaman lain yang kami lalui, seperti Santorini di Dali, Tiger Leaping Gorge, Naigu Stone Forest, Blue Moon Valley dan Lijiang Impression Show. Kalau saya tulis dan ceritakan semuanya, nanti ada yang tak nak ikut IBC ke Yunnan, cukup baca apa yang saya tulis saja. Hahaha.

Apa yang saya tulis dan catatkan di sini hanyalah detik-detik dan pengalaman yang bermakna dan memorable bagi saya di sepanjang perjalanan. Sahabat-sahabat yang bersama dalam group mungkin pulang dengan kenangan atau perspektif mereka sendiri dan berbeza walaupun itinerary kami sama.

En Jaludin mungkin masih bermimpi harimau yang menerkam di Tiger Leaping Gorge, Khairul dan Aiman pasti ingin mengulangi detik manis bersama mendaki hutan batu yang menakutkan, Azah dan Umar mungkin masih leka dibuai vibes Santorini di Dali, dan jiwa Aeshah pasti terusik setiap kali dia menyarung kasut Skechersnya. Isteri saya? Dia masih tidak dapat melupakan pelakon Lijiang Impression tu.

Apa pun, saya harap anda semua tersenyum dan gembira bila membaca apa yang saya tulis ini.  

      

Berduaan Di Blue Moon Valley


We're Ready For The Tiger


Semua Happy Sebelum Makan Daging Yak


Tawau Tigers Leaping


Percaya Tak, Ini Masjid 


Penat Saja Naik, Ba, Tak Ada Oyster 




Mana Pelakon Yang Ganteng Tu?


Scary Stone Forest. Tapi Aiman Tak takut.


I Love What?


 Nini, Why No Skechers Here?


Jangan Tinggal Daku


Letih Banyak Kali Pegang Kain Ni 

    



    


        

          

         

  


 


     


       

  

 

   

 


 

 

 


   

Friday, July 3, 2026

A Break In Bosnia (Part 1)





We'll be landing in Sarajevo shortly, me and my wife. It's high summer with long days in the Balkans, but it's already dark outside the stuttering aircraft, except for some lazy streaks of lightning. 

This is a journey years in the making. Like a big-budget movie, it's been conceived,  cancelled, reimagined, cancelled, reworked, cancelled, and finally, revived. But even a perfect plan has a way of floundering. We're only 10,000 feet away now, and nothing's in the way. The plane is shaking. Please, God, make this happen, just this one time.   

The onboard audio crackles and the pilot comes on to announce my worst fear: he's going to abort the landing and divert to Belgrade. My stomach sinks.

Dandy Day In Durham

Our Wizz Air flight had departed right on time, which means 15 minutes late. My eldest had driven us from his Gillingham flat to Luton Airport with enough time for him and his mom to perform the farewell routine for all of one hour. They could actually do all this online and save time. The scene was the exact rerun of what had happened just five days ago when we met him at Heathrow.

He was just happy that we'd made good on our promise to visit him and attend his graduation at Durham on 3 July. What a joyous occasion it turned out to be. Waiting and watching the procession from the pews among the colourful congregation of parents and children in the half-lit 1000-year old Durham Cathedral was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I'd not trade this moment for anything. Everyone in attendance, including my two granddaughters and their Labubu, were all eyes and ears. I'd never seen them this somber and serious. Finally his name was called, and up he went to receive the scroll, the culmination of a ten-year postgraduate pursuit. With that, he's now the most educated person in our family, at least in theory.

We surprised ourselves by coming here well-prepared - me in green Batik shirt and black songkok, and wife in what looked like green baju kurung. Our daughter-in-law, Azalia, also had something on that looked like green baju kurung, although she wore it better than her mother-in-law, being a lot leaner, younger and all. It's just my random opinion, I mean, me and wife could always go back and argue about this later. But for now I must thank God for keeping me around long enough to be part of this pomp and circumstance.

Believe it or not, it's his fourth graduation, fifth if you include that kindergarten farce. We attended each and every one of them, starting with Northwestern in July 2006, where Obama (yes, that Obama) kicked off with an inspirational commencement speech. He was still a junior senator, but the fire was unmistakable.

A Lovely Dinner 

Oh, I must thank Jafni (real name) and his wife Suhaima for hosting a sumptuous dinner at his home in Durham. Suhaima's kuih lopes were nothing short of spectacular,  truly top-notch stuff, more authentic than the variety we normally bought at Kg Pandan. By her own admission, she's a passionate cook who'd try out new dishes for fun. Jafni's friends would drop by at half a chance, and hang around long enough for all the food ideas to finally transform into some real, physical food. 

Jafni and my eldest were buddies at MRSM PC, and he's here at Durham finishing his PhD. We knew him quite well because he 'd occasionally turn up at our old house in USJ to link up with my eldest and a few other heavy-looking classmates for some serious merrymaking. My wife still knows all their names.

While this MRSM mob all looked eager and ready for all eventualities, I'd never for one moment thought that any of them would want to do a PhD for any reason.

Four Countries For Old Man  

So it was all well and good until 5 July when we'd to part ways. We'd to leave him and Azalia and their lovely daughters and their Labubu, and moved on with our plan. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about our onward itinerary that reads like a car chase sequence from a Bond flick. Bosnia, Croatia, Montenegro and Naples. 

I'd assured him earlier it's only Bosnia. I'd also assured him Physics was easy when he was in Form Four.

I can understand his jitters. Me and wife, our combined age in 2025 was around 138 years. We weren't really in the pink of health, so to speak. I had two blocked arteries that require daily statins. An orthopedic specialist had a five-minute look at my wife's misshapen knees and recommended a complete knee replacement if she wants to lead a normal life. We'd been together for more than 40 years of our lives, both normal and abnormal. 

The idea of replacing her knee or any part of her now, well, I thought it's better never than late. I sought a Tiger Lane classmate's advice. He thought the better idea was to replace her. A classmate is always a classmate.  

And now we'd be romping across the Balkans, just the two of us, all on our own. A Bosnia travel advisory issued by the US State Department reads "exercise increased caution due to terrorism, crime and land mines". That's pretty rich coming from a country trampled by Trump. I dismissed it outright.

Gone Girls

I've done a fair bit of travelling since retirement, but it's always been in the safe company of my two grown-up daughters, Aida and Sarah. They're good with Google Maps and GrabFood. But their grasp of  Geography and their sense of place and space requires substantive side reading. They can't tell you exactly where Gdansk is, or how far is Ghent from Genk (Neither can you ha ha). 

But they bring the much-needed energy and vitality to the journey. The way they swagger from one instagrammable cafe to another instagrammable  cafe is truly inspiring. Lining up for an hour outside Cafe Central in Vienna for casual coffee and cupcakes incapsulates all the essentials of hard work and persistence.

We'd almost covered the good half of Europe together, leaving only the Balkan and the Baltic states in the bucket. 

Then the unthinkable happened. Sarah got married. And Aida six months later.   

Marriages are as natural as naps and nuts when they're not in quick succession. I know we've to let them go, if not now, eventually. Only there's this sudden sense of distance and disconnection. And the sweet scent of their presence every time I open their empty bedrooms. Just a few months ago we were stalking together in Stockholm and now they were somebody's wives.  

With marriage, come new plans, different priorities and the proverbial mother-in-law. How to start a gas stove? How to correctly fold men's pants? Can I hug my father-in-law? Can I hug my father-in-law in public?

With all these woes and worries, Bosnia just had to wait.

Fright On Flight 

So it was only me and wife now on this flight to Sarajevo. Did we feel lonely? You bet. Were we scared? Not technically, only a hint of helplessness now that we'd nobody to blame if things go rogue. I could picture them both looking out for us from their seats across the aisle, giggling at their mom snoring away under ten minutes into the flight.

It's hard to do anything useful on a short flight other than just sitting back to let your idle mind wander off. It's only a two-hour flight but it's long enough for the crew to wheel in with piles of duty-free left-over Lancomes. Nobody fell for this. Perfumes on a low-cost flight is an oxymoron, if you ask me.

Finally the onboard PA system came alive. The pilot reminded the crew to prepare for landing. Sarajevo! Wish you were here, girls. The plane shook and rattled its way down into the thick clouds before nosing up sharply to abort the landing. The pilot came on again to report that he'd to divert to Belgrade due to thunderstorm. My big Bosnian neighbour groaned and swore in Slavic language.

Things could actually get complicated if we'd to disembark because we'd need a visa to enter Serbia. I'd lump Serbia in the dark half of Europe, up there with questionable concepts like Romania, Belarus, Georgia and Tim Burton's movies. Will I end up in Slobodan's cell tonight?

As it turned out, I was overthinking, you know, like Pep and his endless line-ups. After a short refuelling stop, we flew off again when it was all clear at Sarajevo. 

We finally landed at Sarajevo and stepped out to gusts of fresh Balkan winds. The airport didn't surprise me. The terminal was slightly more modern than the old Subang airport. But immigration and baggage was very fast, and in no time we were outside. Now, where's he?

Strolling In Sarajevo (5 - 7 July)

There he was, our prebooked driver, waiting to whisk us away in his Skoda. I must tell you girls, this guy is young, tall, fair and smooth with sharp jaw and thin whiskers. Why can't our Grab drivers dress and smell like this, I wondered. 

We talked throughout, and the way he calmly fielded my battery of inquiries in fluent and polite English, he'd better be a college graduate. He's a Muslim with a Muslim name which I quickly forgot. But his height and good looks easily reminded me of the great Edin Dzeko, my one-time favourite footballer. I've not forgotten his thumping header for City in that epic title-winning game in 2012.

It was already eleven when we finally pulled into Mula Mustafa area to find our apartment. Edin Dzeko was kind enough to help us with our bags, up the stairs right to the door. He looked all around and up and down before putting down our bags. Was he sweeping for land mines? Hahaha. 

We were just happy that our Balkans break started well. Sarajevo was safer than Seremban. The city was clean and quiet, without pointless skyscrapers, massive malls and  traffic jams to intimidate us. 

Its old town, called Bascarsija, was a lively and colourful cobblestoned quarter overrun with tourists. There were rows after rows of charming cafes and gift shops brimming with original Bosnian arts and crafts and soaps, pots and plates. My wife's knees suddenly felt better, and there would never be any need for knee replacement. We spent almost two hours here, crisscrossing and almost colliding with each other.

This is the place to be in Bosnia. Mosques were everywhere, less than 100 metres apart. You should hear the Azan breaking at every solat time. It was pitchy and offkey, but it's azan alright. 

We stopped for a kebab-like lunch at a cafe in the old town. The dish had a Balkan name that was easy to forget. It was tender and juicy, but the taste was bland and uneventful compared to, say, ikan bekak or gulai serati. Unfair comparison, but you'll get the idea.

I went for Maghrib at the Ali Pasha Mosque just behind our apartment. Small but imposing with heavy Turkish influence, it was built in 1550, about 200 years before the magnificent Masjid Kg Laut, the oldest in Malaysia.      

I'm an architectural idiot, so I'm not sure what to make of this Sarajevo mosque style. I'd come across some pretentious parlance like Classical, Baroque, Gothic, Neo-Gothic. I'm happy with "old", or maybe "Ottoman" just to sound more educated. Almost everything here is Ottoman, anyway. Ottoman this, Ottoman that. The Ottomans have been largely blamed for all of Europe's major miseries, including Manchester United. 

Mad About Mostar (7 - 9 July)

After two nights in Sarajevo, we hopped on a bus for our next leg - to Mostar - in the Herzegovina part of Bosnia-Herzegovina, a pretty and poetic name for a country with a brutal history. 

My only regret so far is not snagging a collectible FC Sarajevo shirt on sale (about RM75) at the FC Sarajevo Shop on the way back from the mosque. I didn't bring along my purse and passport on the advice of my wife. You can't find a more suspicious mind than my wife. To her, everybody else is a probable pickpocket.

Mostar deserves a shoutout for its timeless beauty. Perching precariously on craggy cliffs along a river, majestic Mostar is a city in abeyance. It's been there for more than 500 years, and for 500 years it's been hanging on just like that, waiting for the right time to crash and collapse. I've no doubt it'll survive another 500 years. 

Mostar's claim to fame was, of course, that iconic and romantic old bridge, known locally as Stari Most (meaning, well, Old Bridge). Built by, hold your breath, the Ottomans, in 1500s, the bridge had been destroyed by the Croats during the brief Bosnian War, and rebuilt in 2004 (not by the Croats).

So technically this old bridge as it stood now wasn't old. Neither was it complicated. I'm not very good at Physics (and many other subjects), but I could tell that it wouldn't be too difficult to build, destroy and build again and destroy it again.

The bridge was devilishly simple - a stone arch structure laid across a narrow river. I've seen indestructible steel and glass bridges in China spanning over two or three mountains for no reason. The same Chinese guys can build two Mostar bridges in less than two weeks. But no amount of modern engineering can bring about the rich history and folklore that have drawn millions of tourists to Mostar.

From a distance, I'd all the the luxury of time to gawk at Mostar Bridge in full flight, and savour its sublime beauty. I even took an extra time to ponder upon an old geometrical conundrum: is this concave or convex? It's concave all day long.

There was so much joy in merging with the endless crowds and gasping at every turn. Each and every little souvenir shop lining up the narrow and treacherous alleys was a treasure in itself.  We could even hear shouts of "murah, murah" as we passed by. 

There's this one particular shop offering bridge replicas made of stones from the original Mostar bridge. I asked in jest whether she had new stock coming in the next few days. She took it well and just laughed it off. It's not too expensive, so we bought one and just prayed that it's an authentic Ottoman piece. You can scroll all the way up and see for yourself.    

Dazzled By Dubrovnik. And Kotor (9 -11 July)

It's another two nights in Mostar before we moved along to Dubrovnik in Croatia, about four hours by bus.

Part of our Dubrovnik day-out was crossing over to Montenegro to see Kotor, another historic town. Our initial plan was to drive to Kotor, but we had to ditch it due to possible bottlenecks at the border. A minor disappointment for us, but a cause for celebration for our man in Gillingham, who'd been religiously tracking our movements every half-hour.

We joined a bus tour instead. For RM250 each, it's affordable, no fuss, no fluff, no meals. And it came with a guide, who talked non-stop with standard jokes, like a person from Montenegro is not a Dutch, but a Montenegrin (Actually I made up this joke).

Not everybody can be a tour guide. You'd need the right skills and strong knees, not to mention a healthy body mass. I've never seen a tour guide heavier than 70 kg. Our guide came from North Macedonia, if you know where it is. Her weight was about right, although my wife didn't quite agree with her sense of fashion, which was literally over the top.     

I'll skip the details and technicalities of these places. If you're still interested, you can ask Meta AI. Maybe one thing. Dubrovnik was bloody expensive. What you get in Sarajevo, you've to pay twice in Dubrovnik. An Uber ride from our hotel to the bus station set us back 14.40 Euro or RM 70 for a distance of about one km. To think that this was all legal and proper, with receipt and thank you from Uber, I could only wish I'd been scammed.   

Both Dubrovnik and Kotor are glorified globally for their medieval walled towns. You'd be instantly bowled over by the exquisite engineering and architecture on display. Uncannily similar in character, they're separated by just 100 km of breathtaking coastal route that literally laps the blue waters of the Adriatic Sea. Our bus took this route and believe me, girls, the sight was insane.  

Exploring these two ancient towns, you've to walk the walls and choke the narrow and mazy alleys together with throngs of other like-minded tourists. The vibes and atmosphere were quite similar although Kotor was more compact and rowdy. Signages were scarce, so it's easy to get lost and some vertigo. We finally found our way out of Kotor. The trick is to follow a Chinese tour group. They won't stay long in places that don't sell LV bags. 

Some Serious Thoughts 

On the way back to Dubrovnik, our girl guide became more subdued and less prolific. Maybe she was all in and exhausted from trying to correctly call all 45 names in the bus. Or she'd no more Montenegrin jokes left. 

Whatever the reason was, it didn't bother my wife who was already deep in dreamland. I could now seize the moment to recap and reflect on our Balkans expedition.

First thing first: we were still good, no leg cramps, no heart attacks.  In six days, we'd toured through three Balkan countries, four if you include that brief incursion into Serbia. Not too shabby for a 138 year-old couple. And tomorrow we'd be flying out of Dubrovnik. No, not back to KL. We'd be flying to Naples, Italy. Sorry, girls.

As for now, what immediately struck me was how clean and orderly these so-called medieval cities were. For 1000 years these city dwellers had managed to keep all their homes and plumbing fully functioning while my cousins in Kelantan are still waiting for clean water in 2025.

Only it's difficult to make sense of this insular idea of a walled city with one massive gate. You need to farm and fish to live, and make friends with other cities to bring in potential investments or borrow money. Maybe security was paramount, with the Ottomans (ha ha) lurking from neighbouring Bosnia. 

Which reminded me of what had befallen the old Melaka. The Portuguese built one big gate (A'Famosa), but no walls, nothing. Melaka was attacked 24 times before it finally fell to the Dutch. The Dutch, being Dutch, kept the gate but decided not to spend a guilder on walls. When they had to pull out later, they left nothing of value except A'Fmosa and Jonker Street as permanent tourist traps. 

Sorry for making this small and silly talk. I'm forever an economics student, so things like this don't just go away.

For sheer beauty, I thought Sarajevo was, borrowing the words of Simon Cowell, "very average". Agreed its old town was pleasant and joyful, but the city surrounds and atmosphere was restrained and unexpressive in every way. You'd expect more from a city that had started a world war. Maybe I've to venture outside and brave the land mines (hahaha). 

But Mostar, Dubrovnik and Kotor were all brilliant and stunning medieval masterpieces, a fitting homage to human ingenuity and industry. All the rage and reputation here were well-deserved. Which make you wonder why are these far-flung places so gorgeous and good-looking while back home we're left to marvel at Batu Pahat, Kuala Sepetang etc.

One Final Word 

We're done with the Bosnia, or rather the Balkans, part of the journey. Sorry if it's all disjointed and disorganized and you've found it difficult to digest without feeling slightly depressed. I still hope it's piqued enough curiosity for you to rush out and book your flight to Sarajevo. 

A number of travel agents are actively promoting Balkans Tours, targeting unsuspecting Malay retirees, wealthy housewives, professors and even medical specialists, with offers of nine countries in ten days or ten countries in nine days for less than RM10,000. It's easy to get motivated by these numbers.

Nine countries in ten days! Just don't do it. On the 11th day, you'll be tired, or dead tired, or dead. It's impossible to enjoy nine countries in ten days. Marco Polo travelled through eight countries on his way to China. It took him three years.

I've uploaded some photos of me and wife at various places. Most were taken by my wife and some by kind strangers who were all excited to assist good-looking people like us. 

If you like this, there's a Part 2. It's mostly on our last leg - Naples, Italy. I'm still writing it and will publish it here if I ever finish it.  



Dandy Day In Durham 


 Off To Sarajevo


Old Man In Old Town 



Mostar Old Bridge 


Malaysian Old Lady  


Mostar (old) Mosque





Finally Found Our Way Out of Kotor 


Is this Dubrovnik or Kotor? They All Looked The Same


Another Day, Another Pretty Town


 Swinging In Sweden With The Girls (2024)








  

        

   

 


 


 


 

  

Sunday, May 3, 2026

Babah



The slow drive up the hill suddenly opened up to wide terraces with rows after rows of monotonous lumps. All we had was some incoherent numbers, and now we'd to find the marker. After some frantic search, we finally found the one matching  I 1360.

It's here.  Babah's final resting place.   

Babah passed away on Friday, 19 March, the last day of Ramadan 1447. He died in his sleep. So nobody could tell exactly when he left us. Maybe that's the way he'd have wanted it. Quiet, peaceful and painless, no fuss and frills. Just like that.

Only me and my wife weren't around. Wife is the eldest of Babah's nine children. He fondly called her Along right from the day she was born. 

We were somewhere in England, finishing off the last days of the fasting month and Hari Raya with our eldest son, Asrif. The idea was for us to be close to him so that he and his family wouldn't feel sad and isolated listening to Alamak Raya Lagi on Hari Raya morning.

Babah had been unwell for some time, but there was no way to know that he'd pass away on that Friday, which was already Hari Raya in England. We were all dressed to the nines, ready to celebrate with good food and mood, when the news of the tragic loss crashed in. The morning turned sad and somber as we were left reeling with grief. 

Already 92, Babah was all poised and prepared for the eventuality. Soon after he was stricken and bed ridden, he started giving away some of his worldly possessions. He became more talkative and forthcoming than before. Apparently he was also happy that I took good care of Along. I hope he wasn't hallucinating because I was deeply touched. I really thought taking care of your wife is something normal, expected and typical, not to mention tiring.

During these difficult times, I could see all the upside of having many children and many girls, and raising them well. Daughters are more emotionally attached and expressive. There was always one or two by the bedside to clean and feed Babah, hold his hands, and talk to him just to boost his spirits. The boys, well, they were always available and ready, if there's ever a need to help move the bed, switch off the aircond etc. 

I can still roughly recall the first time I met Babah. It was early 80's, and everybody had long hair and flared pants. Looking back now, I thought it was hilarious. It was one late afternoon after office. My (now) wife sheepishly introduced me to him, or was it him to me? More like me to him because I was technically the interested party.

I was taken aback. Babah looked younger than his age, structurally taller than average, with hair far fuller and thicker than my own. A casual onlooker could quickly conclude that he looked sharper and cleaner than me,  by a wide margin. He then spoke in some Negeri tone and  accent, and that  kind of gave him away.

Oh, where am I from? It was the spot question, so my response was a reflex action with a pinch of pride. Of all the many states and settlements, it had to be Kelantan, I could read his mind. Non-Luak was complicated enough, but Kelantan was truly another level. 

Father-in-law is historically a tricky job. There's no playbook or user manual to fall on. Only jokes. Lots of jokes. There's no one-size-fits-all gameplan, because a son-in-law comes with their own set of quirks and malignancies.  Babah had not one, but nine sons/daughters-in-law. You can imagine all the complexity and urgency of his job.

I had the monopoly for all of two years before another-son-in law strode in to provide some competition. More came in later in quick succession, from Selangor, Johor, Melaka Bandaraya Bersejarah, Taiping. But no more from Kelantan for me to gang up with. By this time Babah had acquired all the technical skillset to smoothly navigate his way around.

I'm sure he was quite relieved, or maybe proud, that all his nine children had finally settled down, leaving him free to circle back to his core business: pampering his wife.

Babah loved Mak to his last breath. They'd been together for 68 years, which is a long time by any measure. I got this number not by sighting their marriage certificate, but through some smart guesswork. I just add one year to my wife's age. Yes, my wife is that old. 

Back to the love story. Whatever Babah did, his wife had to approve it, and he'd agree to just about anything she fancied. His every sentence had to start with "your mother...". No two-way about this. In return, his wife would prepare masa lemak cili api every other day. At times his nine children would be all up in arms against this minor conspiracy, but his wife held sway. (I'm exaggerating a bit, for effect). 

But, seriously, Babah and Mak were simple and sincere folks with an endless streak of charm and charity. You can tell it by the way they received and hosted their guests. To them guests are gifts, and no guests should go back home hungry ever. There's always something in the pantry to pass around. Their Kg Pandan residence is open all day all year round. Friends and relatives and the Kuala Pilah clan and connection would drop by in numbers, rarely with sufficient notice. 

I know some of their close friends, all wonderful and warm-hearted people, like Pakcik Nasir, Abang Rashid, Kak Ram, Pak Harun, and Kak Maria. I met them so often that we ourselves would soon become friends. A crowd pleaser, Pakcik Nasir attempted a pantun at my sister-in-law's wedding. I can't recall the exact lines, but it wasn't even close to a pantun. We all cheered him on and everybody was happy with it.  Small memories like this make my day every time. 

Babah remained largely in the shadow of his elder brothers and sisters. His nephew, a Tan Sri, loudly complained that "my uncle is too humble". Babah's father was a teacher who'd the foresight to send him to an English school. So Babah could speak, read and write in English quite well, probably better than some Members of Parliament. I always had this little theory that English-medium students are vocal, flashy and "action". But not Babah. He remained modest and measured. At family gatherings, he'd quietly sit in the back row and spoke only sparingly.

But when he spoke, you could sense the flair and finesse of a fine speaker. My elder brother fell for Babah's easy demeanor and uncanny resemblance to Ratno Timoer, my brother's favourite Indonesian actor. He managed to get Babah to lead his son's meminang delegation. And this time, Babah took the front seat and ran the show.

Babah passed away leaving a wife he was eternally in love with, and children and grandchildren who ecstatically adored and crowded around him. Some of them will tenderly carry the nick-names for many more years. 

Tears and tributes flowed freely, seakan sungai yang tak henti mengalir. He might not be a celebrated statesman or a decorated soldier, but they all knew he was much more. He was a father, a friend and a leading light, in good times and in bad times.

Babah has left us, but he's never gone. His legacy of humility, honesty and compassion will live on. 

It was almost noon now. The sun was burning bright and bad. Good thing we'd the presence of mind to bring along an umbrella each. We finally rose, stepped back and had one long look before turning around to leave. 

Rest well, Babah. Maafkan saya dan Along.