If you get lost, ride like mad and follow a car 28/01/2011; Melaka to Port Dickson 107.63km

The day didn’t start well, I had a simple left, right , left (or was that right, left, right) to get onto the road I wanted to be on to get to Port Dickson but a few dead ends and one way streets had me completely lost as yet again all sense of direction had abandoned me. Extremely lost I asked someone stood by the road, after trying to confuse me more he said when his brother picks him up to just follow them to the road I need to be on.  I followed them but I had to cycle the speed of a Track cyclist to keep up and when your bike weighs 50kg and the back brake has completely worn out its rather difficult. They led me to the road and I was off, nothing could go wrong from here, nice short day and I was dreaming of getting there checking into a hostel about 2pm enjoying the sun, lazing on the beach and chilling in the sea. As I approached Port Dickson I only got more excited seeing all the resorts there and the sea looked inviting after a hot days cycling. I decided to go right into the town to see what it was about, I wasn’t impressed it look dirty and not a place where tourist come, they are sent to relax in the luxury of the resorts. I rode round for a while and couldn’t find a backpackers anywhere, spotting a internet café I dived in to see what google could tell me as it was much easier than asking someone. Frustratingly I had to go back the way I’d came, after just 6km I found hostel accommodation but it was full, luckerliy for me there was one 2 minutes further back down but that was also full. No more hostels and not really keen to stay in a super grotty hotel I got a cup of teh (teh I have no idea what it is, looks like tea but its sweet and rather satisfying). While sat there I noticed someone looking at my bike, his name was Farok and he came over to chat with me, he spoke excellent English and he seemed to be a well respected man, like he was high up in the police force and then proceeded to tell me that back in the 60’s he shook the queens hand. I asked him if he knew of anywhere cheap to stay he said there is a hotel for around $30 back in Port Dickson, before then offering me a lift to Kuala Lumper.  Determined to cycle as much as I could back to England I refused his last offer. There was a younger guy with him also, I think he worked for him but wasn’t sure. They offered to show me where the hotel was back in Port Dickson so yet again I was pedaling like a maniac to keep up with another car. We got to the place Farok told me to wait outside I assume so he could get a better price for me. It cost RM40 which in real money is fairly cheap but I was trying to budget to RM 40 per day. The hotel was dirty and to be honest an absolute hole but I had a bed for the night. Sitting on my bed I felt really disappointed my sense of adventure had evaded me and I hadn’t carried on to try camp in a farmer’s field, instead I’d took an easy way out by throwing what limited money I have at the situation. Port Dickson is the first place where I felt a little uneasy, leaving the hotel straight off the bat I had someone telling me his story and asking for money. I shopped around for a plug adaptor for my laptop, which surprisingly I found before stumbling across a local football match. After eating I went back to my room to play with my new adaptor and make use of the rum I’ve been carrying.