Ipoh to Cameron Highlands — Living Like I’m Dying travel humor blog by Lary Kennedy
On the original Living Like I’m Dying tour, my route followed the seasonal turning of the leaves across the good ol’ USA. When all the leaves turned brown and the skies turned gray, and I was unsure of my next move, my stepmom overnighted me the unopened 1,000 Places to See Before You Die book I’d given my father for Christmas six months earlier.
The current tour’s trajectory is now in the hands of my co-pilot, ChatGPT. He knows far more about—well, everything—than I do, and more importantly, about Southeast Asia. As recent history has proven, while I may not get it at the time, I usually end up appreciating his guidance. If only he could also find and book accommodations, coordinate transportation, organize my social calendar, and haul my luggage.
I love everything about traveling except the actual traveling part. Planes, trains, boats, busses, cars, roller coasters, ferris wheels, a walk around the block can, has and will induce vomitus erectous. Which is crazy. How did I not take any of this into consideration. Obviously I suffer from ‘travel amnesia’ an offshoot of ‘maternal amnesia.’
The upcoming game plan is to spend a couple of days in Ipoh, cool off in Cameron Highlands, explore the big city of Kuala Lumpur, and then bust out to Borneo.
Selamat Detang (Welcome in Malay) Ipoh greets me as our bus pulls in to the station. I gotta say the busses in Malaysia are top notch. Somewhat swanky, reasonably priced, and equipped with free WiFi.
Ipoh started off as a tin-mining town where a vast number of Chinese settlers arrived in the late 1800s. It remains largely Chinese today, with many of the original buildings constructed by those pioneer miners still intact. It wasn’t until 2023 that Ipoh was officially designated a UNESCO city. While some renovations are ongoing, the original structures hold up a postcard to what the city looked like from the 1880s through the 1930s.
Among the buildings in Old Town Ipoh are the original bank, law offices, pharmacy, hostel for theatre players, a theatre, and a teahouse—showcasing architecture including Art Deco to Renaissance, Neo-Classical, and even Gothic. Each shophouse bears a carved Chinese plaque in its five-foot-way pillar, serving as a permanent signboard identifying the business. Pretty nifty—until it’s time to sell the business. Then what? Hmm… not my problem..
Beautiful buildings aside, Old Town’s biggest draw is Concubine Lane. Yup, One short narrow lane where once upon a time the richest man in town kept his concubines. It was known as the place to gamble, smoke Opium, and appreciate woman of the evening. Our version of Las Vegas. These day’s it’s a tourist hot spot. I did find it a bit strange watching a mother try to get the perfect photo of her 7 year old son standing under the Concubine Lane sign.
Fun city to explore, but once the sun went down it was unnerving sharing the streets with Ipoh’s thriving rat community. Big ones. Big Rats running around and not the least but intimidated by the likes of me.
Three days of cold showers later, I make my way to the Cameron Highlands—where not only cold showers, but cold weather, await. Cameron Highlands sits about 4,900 feet above sea level; Albuquerque, New Mexico would be a good U.S. equivalent.
With temperatures ranging from 15–23°C (59–77°F), you’d think I’d appreciate the respite from the 90-degree heat and 90-percent humidity the rest of Malaysia experiences. The place reminds me of a Swiss-chalet ski lodge.
Where’s the jacuzzi?” I ask at the check-in desk.
All I get is a quizzical look.
God, what I wouldn’t give to sit in 104-degree bubbling water, jets massaging my aching muscles, sipping a Baileys hot chocolate and staring up at the stars.
No matter, I’m eternally grateful they chose to accommodate me period. I’d mistakenly double booked myself in Ipoh and Cameron Highlands that very day. OMG. Wheres my personal assistant when I need her?!?!?
Luckily, they allow me to switch the dates to the current ones; however, because of a large group rebooking most of the hotel, I’d lost my preferred room selection. No biggie,, Nothing a nice warm bath won’t cure.
Booking.com promised a room with a tub, which 100 percent will suffice. The affable front-desk gal helps me up the stairs with my luggage. My room has a queen bed and a twin beside it. “Big room,” I say.
“Ya, we had to do some maneuvering due to the large group we need to accommodate,” she replies
I open the bathroom door and what do I see? A hose on the wall. FML.
My hotel is perched high on a hill with a treacherous incline the last hundred yards up. Fine by me—I like a good hike. And hike I did, into town, which is not exactly a hop, skip, and a jump, let me tell you.
Still unable to track down my ATM card (which was supposed to arrive ten days ago in Langkawi and remains “in transit”), and having recently ‘misplaced’ my credit card, my only access to moolah is via Western Union.
Most of Southeast Asia is no longer considered third-world, but things like banking, mail, infrastructure, and modern amenities can sure feel like it at times. In America we take for granted that when we go to a Western Union, the money we’ve wired will actually be there—or that when we pay for expedited delivery, it’ll arrive on time. Here? Not so much.
Being so far from the little village and with no mini-fridge makes it tough to eat. Walking the distance is great for my figure, but I do like to stay in and hang sometimes. Grab is available here if they can locate a driver. I swear there are only two that cover this entire area
I’ve managed not to starve and even found a cool, off-the-beaten-path bar with a pool table—The Jungle Bar. The vibe is hip, chill, and eclectic. I’m a sucker for a pool table, although I’m a better player in my mind than in real life. No matter. I’ve made friends with a few locals as well as the bartender from Morocco and the manager originally from England. Between losing at pool, Mr. Morocco, Mr. England, and I have had some pretty entertaining conversations about life, love, and liberty. Super fun spot to hang out.
Both cities are worth spending time in no doubt. Unlikely I’ll consider either for an extended stay. –
On the first Living Like I’m Dying tour, I followed the leaves as they turned.
This time there are no seasons to chase, no compass to trust—just this ongoing conversation between wanderer and guide.
The map’s still blank, and maybe that’s the point.
