Cruise Malaysia - Phuket -Myanmar - Port Blair -(India) - Singapore

Translation disclaimer: This page was translated using automated software for your convenience. No guarantee is given regarding the accuracy of the translation. The content will be manually reviewed later.

15/02-04/03/2014 Holland America Lines (MS Volendam)

Day Description ARR. DEP.

Day 1 Singapore, Singapore 16:00

Day 2 Malacca, Malaysia 08.00 17.00

Day 3 Penang, Malaysia 08.00 17.00

Day 4 Phuket, Thailand 08.00 16.00

Day 5 Day at sea

Day 6 Yangon, Myanmar (Visa) 10.30 -

Day 7 Rangoon, Myanmar -

Day 8 Rangoon, Myanmar 08.30

Day 9 Port Blair, India (visa) 08.00 17.00

Day 10 Day at sea

Day 11 Porto Malai, Malaysia 08.00 17.00

Day 12 Port Klang, Malaysia 08.00

Day 13 Port Klang, Malaysia 20:00

Day 14 Singapore, Singapore 12.00

Day 15 Singapore, Singapore

Saturday afternoon + Sunday 15-16 February

Smooth evening flight from Zaventem – Zurich – Singapore with Swissair. The first time I've been able to sleep long on an international flight. I watch the movie "Blue Jasmine," but as a huge Woody fan, I don't think much of it. We hop in a credit card cab after waiting in long lines and yet the taxi dispatch is super-smooth. I booked Hotel Copthorns because it has terrace restaurants within walking distance along the riverbank. I indulge in liters of Tiger beer (thirsty!) now that the heat is getting to us and devour a succulent spicy seafood platter. Nella giant asparagus and never-seen-before shellfish. Then it's off to the box to get the time difference out of the way. Because we're Belgian, they gave us Room TinTin (1010).

Monday 17 February: Singapore 30°

It's my first time on a ship with over 1,000 passengers (1,400!), the Holland America Line (HAL) MS Volendam. We're used to the highest level of luxury and service from last year's Silversea cruise, so we're definitely taking things down a notch, but we promise ourselves to take everything as it comes.

Immigration and embarkation procedures are taken very seriously and are extensive here. But as Belgians, unlike, say, Germans, Brits, or Americans, you usually fall under "other countries" where lines are shorter and checks are somewhat less intense. Still, there are numerous checkpoints and intensive paperwork to fill out. "Are you sick? Do you have diarrhea? Are you vomiting?" Anyone who writes anything here will never get on board, of course. Finally, we enter our "ocean view stateroom," a simple outside cabin. Two super-friendly Filipinos, Mardi and Ram, become our cabin stewards. A disappointment: there's no minibar, and since, unlike Silversea, drinks aren't included and therefore expensive, I smuggled some beers on board, which I'll now have to cool in ice buckets we'll request. But even still water for the night is a pricey fee, and we'll constantly feel like someone's after our money. Internet access is also expensive, only available in lounges and slow (normally, because it's via satellite). It really put a damper on our cruise experience.

Oh well. We're having aperitifs at the pool bar and lunch at the Lido buffet. Due to gastrointestinal illness (GID) (or at least the risk), self-service is not permitted for the first 24 hours (incubation period), and everything is served by staff wearing plastic gloves. GID is apparently the bane of cruise ships these days. You're only sick for 24 hours (diarrhea and vomiting), but it's extremely contagious. It will remain an issue throughout the cruise, with warnings and printed reminders (wash your hands constantly, use sanitizer), adjusted service times, and up to two mid-trip announcements from the captain over the PA system. It must be serious.

Sailing from Singapore is always a treat. At the pool bar, I hear a nice couple in their forties speaking Flemish. We meet and click immediately. Gourmets with tons of travel experience. A friendship develops. Wim and Anja from Hemiksem are funny, interesting, bon vivants, understanding, and incredibly pleasant company. In the evening, the open seating gets a bit crowded, but we want to join everyone. It turns out to be two Australian couples and a pair of… Belgians, Willy and Lut, friendly young retirees who have already been on board for two months. We have a pleasant conversation. Aussies are awesome . But the food and service disappoint. The squabble over table placement is compensated with a plate of chocolates in the cabin afterward.

MS Volendam is 238 meters long, 61,214 gross tons, and has ten passenger decks. It boasts five restaurants and seven bars: the Explorer Lounge (piano and violin: classical with a twist), The Crown's Nest, with its 120° panoramic view, is at the very top and features a disco in the evenings, The Piano Bar (with a solo guitarist or pianist entertainer), The Ocean Bar (a jazz combo), a coffee bar attached to the library with an internet café, and a bar at each pool. The food, though supervised by culinary consultant Rudi Sodamin (who, in my time, was from Cunard), is of a much lower standard than I'm used to. But then again, so is the price. Two restaurants are available at an additional cost: Canaletto (Italian) and Le Pinnacle (French), based on Sirio Maccioni's famous New York establishment, Le Cirque.

Tuesday 18/02/14 Malacca (Malaysia) 30°

After struggling to get decent hot milk (it boiled over, was dirty and greasy, which happened many times), we docked in Malacca, Malaysia. Immediately, we had to deal with a tender operation, the only one this cruise, but with local tenders. Disembarkation checks were rigorous, but now that our boarding pass (cabin key + onboard payment registration card + lifeboat designation) could be quickly scanned (all data with a photo immediately entered on the computer), things went smoothly.

The maps in the ship's booklet were useless and occasionally completely wrong. And (intentionally?) so was the shore information. Probably to sell as many excursions as possible. In the heat, we made our way to the remains of the Portuguese fort, Porta de Santiago a Famosa. We passed it by, as it turned out to be nothing more than a pile of stones. Then we passed St. Paul's Church (some ruined walls) and the modest town hall. After the crowds and the scorching sun, we took a rickshaw back. These bicycles here were completely decorated with flowers and quirky items. Our pedaler has a Winnie the Pooh bike. Crazy kitsch, yet unique. Ice water and chilled towels are no luxury on the pier. However, I discover I've lost my boarding pass, probably just fallen out of my pocket. But with Nella with me and a bit of conversation, I manage to get back and immediately get a new "passepartout."

In the evening, it's a gala night. Dressed up, we head to the introduction by Captain James Russel Dunford (UK), who introduces his officers. We opt for open seating with strangers again. It's a Canadian get-together. Afterward, we watch the show, featuring a live orchestra and six singers. Title: " Unforgettable ." But I find it of a deplorable standard. Twenty-five years ago, Cunard offered shows that were more varied, captivating, and spectacular than this. Afterward, I speak with Cruise Director Bruce. He's already been on 22 world cruises and always exclusively HAL. We talk about the past and present. "Back then, cruise directors were still kings," he says. But I think he's stuck, and the programs offer little new beyond cooking demos (very well done), Tai Chi, and numerous food and tasting events, all for an additional fee.

Wednesday 19/02/14: Georgetown on the magical island of Penang (Malaysia) 30°

Not far from the gate, I snag a decent plan. Under a copper scuttle, we stroll through the bustling town. First, Clan Jetties, an entire neighborhood of houses built on stilts over the sea, and then we look for Khoo Kongsi, a Chinese clan temple. Beautiful decorations and a strange inscription. Then we set off in search of Chez Nous. Among the recommended lunch spots where I really want to eat Malay food, this one is described as 'Belgian style'. Curious. I'm hoping for a cold Belgian beer because, besides Stella, there's only Dutch (Heineken, brrr), American (Bud), or Asian beer on board. So, pilsner only...

We arranged to meet Wim and Anja there to share a taxi from there to the largest Chinese temple in the country, the Kek Lok Si Temple outside the city, and also our first (Thai) reclining Buddha, 'Wat Chaiya'. Chez Nous, with its tantalizing photos of Duvel and Hopus, turns out to be closed. That's disappointing. Definitely find a beer, because it's a Muslim country. There are only a fair number of local lemonades (I had one with speculaas flavor) and decent food isn't readily available nearby. We decide to leave a note at the door with a message, after which we promptly bump into Wim and Anja.

Kek Lok Si is an explosion of classic Chinese curls, lanterns, bright colors interspersed with pastels, in a swirl of temples, side pavilions, statues, and decorations. The taxi parks beneath the temple and then ascends, a visual orgasm. A funicular takes us to the top, where a huge "Marian-esque" statue with a column complex still under construction dominates the hill. It has a kind of Corcovado feel. There's also a somewhat grayish view of the city, gardens, and the bay. Shops, knickknacks, incense, beautiful fringe… thousands of impressions from another culture assault our senses. On the way to the reclining Buddha, the driver insists on visiting the "lifting Buddha." He leads us before a statue. If you kneel in front of it, concentrate deeply on a wish, and then lift the statue above your head in one go, that wish comes true. My wish will come true, Nella's won't... From the 108-foot reclining ship back to the ship, where at 4 p.m. we'll sample Mexican tacos and grilled meats at the grill buffet on the open deck.

Thursday, February 20: Phuket (Thailand) 32°

I've been here a few times, but never Nella. What to do? There's a lot, but everything requires a ride. Anyone driving on the island will be drawn to those more than a thousand passengers. After a squabble of bidding and haggling down from $120 to $60, we decide to take a scenic drive to the 45-meter-high white marble Big Buddha with a magnificent view of Chalong Bay, followed by an inexpensive full-body massage on Kata Beach. We convince a British couple to share a taxi. Their philosophy: "OK, as long as it doesn't take longer than 3.5 hours and we're back for lunch." The old woman who accosted us from the beginning and wouldn't let go turns out to be the driver of a relatively new car, at least compared to what we saw the rest of the cruise. The Big B appears to be still under construction, surrounded by various Buddhist ornaments.

We climb up and walk around it in a cloud of dust. Afterwards, we go to the beach. During the descent, we feed a baby elephant, always good for a nice photo. We each get a super-firm body massage on a huge bed under a palm canopy on the beach. Two Thai girls take care of us in synchrony (€10 each). I groan, aches and pains everywhere. And that same evening, I turn out to be covered in bruises. Those delicate, slender girls have super-muscular fingers. In the evening, we have dinner with Wim and Anja, and a little later, they put Willy and Lut with us. We have a pleasant chat at the Ocean bar, enjoying five Stellas in a bucket for the price of four. The clocks go back one hour that night.

Friday, February 21: at sea. 27°

Breakfast on the open sea with a soundtrack of birdsong in the forest—it's absurd. A day of chilling before the big adventure arrives. Because in Myanmar, Thilawa port, the gateway to Rangoon/Yangon, an hour's drive away, you're not allowed to walk in the harbor. Outside of that, transportation is said to be almost nonexistent, or at least lamentable. Scaremongering to sell excursions? We'll be there for two days. There are overnight excursions via a domestic flight to Bagan, the archaeological gem of the first Myanmar empire with its unique Mount Popa, and also to the famous Mandalay. But such an excursion costs €1,200 per person!

Navigation reports are constantly being made because the ship is the first of its size, and consequently, from three o'clock in the morning, it will slowly sail up the river, sometimes with only a meter's difference above the seabed. Delicate. I'm going to watch a cooking show in a theater with cameras everywhere, including the ceiling. It's like watching a cooking show with everything detailed on large side screens. Then I participate in a team quiz and present my American group with answers related to geography, Europe, and culture. Although the quiz remains very much in an American, Anglo-Saxon vein.

In the evening, there's a second gala, and a feast where a super-friendly Balinese waiter spoils us. Wim simply eats three main courses instead of the appetizers (lobster, tuna steak). Then the clocks have to be put back half an hour (!). Never before. Besides, this is practically a north-south cruise. With such a small latitude difference, a 2.5-hour time zone difference, strange…

Saturday February 22: Thilawa (Myanmar) to Bago 28°

Because we'd heard through various sources that transportation was limited and unpredictable, we decided to cut our losses and booked a bus excursion to Bago, once the capital of Lower Burma, ruled by the Mon dynasty from the 14th to the 16th centuries. A two-hour drive on less-than-perfect roads. The poverty and especially the garbage, the unprecedented traffic chaos, are always a shock. You can sense that this country is desperately trying, in the wake of Thailand's success, to become a new haven for cultural tourism. But the infrastructure and organization are simply inadequate and a trial for Westerners. Take, for example, the garbage that everyone simply leaves behind everywhere in a dust-ridden country. The most disgusting toilets, whose smell, primitiveness, dirt, and never-provided paper, practically condemn you to wet your pants. The means of transportation are also poor. Cars with a trunk that can hold no more than ten people, hold double the number crammed together, with a few more hanging on.

A first (too long and unnecessary) stop involves a War Memorial (27,000 soldiers). Although you can see it in five minutes, and Tyn Cot in Passchendaele is ten times more moving. Then on to lunch in a charming wooden building. The food is surprisingly delicious: mini spring rolls, an oriental soup, a rich vegetable-meat-and-rice dish, and a piece of lobster tail. We are charged for the local beer "Myanmar" in large bottles, which shouldn't be allowed.

And then the barefoot hell begins. We visit the Shewadaw temple (with the tooth of the Buddha), the impressive Hinthagon pagoda overlooking the city, and the austere Kyukhamaing Buddhist monastery. A visit to the refectory and kitchen—what a different world! And through a window, I spot monks washing themselves, which turns out to be a round of water throwing. Shewada's reclining Buddha is 55 meters long and the second longest in the world. Barefoot is required everywhere, but the floors are so disgustingly dirty that everyone insists on cleaning their feet afterward, which is difficult. And our guide says this is pointless, since we have to take them off again every 10 minutes. The monuments are otherwise beautiful and enchanting. We end up in a Mon village, an authentic village. Everyone wants to sell all sorts of things everywhere.

We see a primitive loom in action, children cheering, mopeds honking constantly; anyone with a moped feels superior to the rest. And they honk their horns like crazy, everyone out of their way. I also notice a shabby house with a satellite dish at the back and small children in burgundy-colored Buddhist robes. They're everywhere. We get back very late, exhausted from the bus ride, and quickly head to the dining room where we eat burnt Asian ribs. Pitiful and subpar. After our complaint, we're given a glass of bad bubbly. The compensation policy here is part of the customer strategy.

Sunday, February 23: to Yangon (Rangoon) 30°.

Getting to Yangon is only possible with a paid shuttle (a one-hour drive) for which we have to pay $50 per person. A disgrace. The HAL scammers really need to be held accountable... The guide speaks a kind of Asian English that no one understands. But that doesn't stop him from constantly talking fast and at length. Yet, I learn that Yangon has a population of 300,000, a luxury apartment is as expensive as in New York (joking?), and the country is attracting millions of tourists. His figures are met with a great deal of frowning from, well, the non-Americans. Yankees believe anything, after all…

Once there, we have 3.5 hours to make the most of it. We share a taxi with Wim and Anja for next to nothing, although the driver constantly makes the wrong turn because he doesn't understand where we're going: the second most important monument here, a… reclining Buddha! Admittedly the largest, most beautiful, and most impressive of the three so far. That smile on his face, the pastel colors, the soles of his feet with the symbolic markings, the reverent prayer and offering of the locals, the incense, the flowers…

From there, it's on to the Shevadagon Pagoda, 2,500 years old. A huge complex with entrances on all sides. I take an elevator up, shoulders and knees covered. My long (short) pants are five centimeters shorter than Wim's. The verdict: I have to rent a deep red sarong that falls open easily and barely allows for sitting or walking. The fascinating golden mega-pagoda, topped with inaccessible rubies and gemstones, turns out to be surrounded by a vast complex of pagodas, temples, and pavilions. All gold, glittering, and tinkling bells.

It's Sunday, and apparently, it's the big family outing. Whole groups of locals are doing what they're good at: just sitting or squatting, sometimes eating food they brought along, or strolling around. The fact that both Nella and Wim, both blonde (Wim even looks a bit like Tintin), have to pose for their phones proves that tourists are still a rarity here. This religious site is enchanting, fairytale-like—in short, a different world. We can't get enough of it. This alone made the trip worthwhile. Walking barefoot here is tolerable, as the floor is clean, but we burn ourselves on the sun-baked tiles. Afterward, we take a taxi to the old colonial Strand Hotel. Air conditioning! Beer! Old-fashioned, endearing. Only, it turns out once again that not a single taxi driver understands where we're going. No one speaks English properly.

We walk past stalls, food stalls, fruit vendors, and junk vendors back to the Sule Pagoda and City Hall, which overlook Central Park. And then an hour back, over that strange bridge over the Yangon River. In the evening, I'll watch "the marriage game," an ancient format where it's hard to find two participating couples. Later, there was supposed to be a Thilawa Music and Dance show. But sorry, I've already seen so many local folklore shows. We'll chat with our Belgian friends. A little further on, two more West Flemish couples are sitting. We'll find that the Belgians are the only ones on board keeping the local (bar) economy afloat. Although the waitresses remain annoyingly pushy. You order something: "Why not a double?" Annoying.

Monday, February 24: at sea, 28°

Dolce far niente. And everything revolves around the big administrative bogeyman tomorrow: Port Blair (India) in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands in the Bay of Bengal. Unsightly, only a short day there, but very demanding in terms of immigration paperwork. In Belgium, it took blood, sweat, and tears to obtain our visa. A lot of email, phone calls, registered mail, regular passport photos were rejected, so we had to digitally modify them ourselves, etc. We did receive a lot of unsolicited text messages saying: "We're busy," "It's there now," and... which we'll be charged for. The final price for both of our visas: €301! The ones for Myanmar were provided on board and were less expensive for two full days. We were given a package of documents to fill out. On top of that, there was the scaremongering: ultra-primitive transportation, substandard, no air conditioning anywhere, relatively little to see (which is actually true). I'm trying to come up with a strategy based as much as possible on the information from location guide Ian Page, a nice Londoner (that sense of humor), which will come down to this: we'll see.

Tuesday, February 25 Port Blair, Andaman and Nicobar Isles (India) 30°C .

The time has come. In the morning, the entire ship is already on standby. With five documents, everyone will have to present themselves in two procedures for a face-to-face meeting with immigration, 1,400 people…

Only then can the ship be released. As a former cruise director, I've seen so much, and ensuring these kinds of operations run smoothly is naturally a concern. Usually, the strictness of disembarkation procedures is directly proportional to the poverty in the country and prone to corruption (outside the States and the former USSR). On the other hand, I know that… And sure enough, everything suddenly changes. No more face-to-face meetings, a number of documents are no longer required, and with only a photocopy of your passport with visa and your boarding pass, you can disembark. Even the customs declaration form is no longer necessary.

Once outside the harbor exit, Wim and Anja are crushed by dozens of transport providers, rickety taxis, and the friendly tuk-tuks (covered mopeds with bench seats). The funny thing is that we don't even have to haggle or complain; they negotiate with each other. We hop into an ancient white taxi (50s style) with rattling, creaking gears, no windows, no seatbelts, but a horn, and head to the city center: Aberdeen Bazaar near Gandhi Park. From there, we plan to walk to the only real attraction here: the Cellular Jail (built by the British to isolate freedom fighters). It's a climb along untidy streets—everything happens on the street here—overwhelmed by honking, hooting, and car horns in a scorching, humid heat (36°C) that feels clammy. The Jail is a building with cells, a reconstruction of corporal punishment, a hanging room—brrr. But also old photos of the island, and from the top of the tower, a view of the island. It brings back flashes of the movies "Papillon" and "Midnight Express." It's sweating and puffing, but for a pittance, we go back to the bazaar and the semi-covered fruit and vegetable market with some varieties I've never even seen before.

Then through the hustle and bustle to Gandhi Square. Besides rotten teeth, the people here also have ugly red (!) teeth from chewing the famous betel nut. We decide to take a tuk-tuk back. The locals fall over each other to get you into their simmering little heads. With every price you mention, one of them shouts: "OK, here!" Then it becomes too much for Corneel. I bark my offer loudly, because I want to pay with old rupees I still had from Goa (25 years ago) topped up with a dollar. Among the rupees are some coins that no longer even exist. I'll give them to a vendor later in exchange for a primitive A map of the island. Then, tuk-tuks turn into a race of honking and crisscrossing. As if it were a competition, we zoom back, rattling along at speed.

In the evening, we enjoy an aperitif in the piano bar with the fantastic guitarist-singer Garry. It turns out there's an unannounced "open bar" throughout the ship from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. to compensate for the fact that the ship will arrive in Singapore at 5 p.m. instead of noon (which means excursions and even return flights are cancelled). The otherwise "empty" ship suddenly fills up with people dragging (multiple) drinks from everywhere, smuggling, etc.… disgusting! The human race profiting, while you otherwise see very little spending in the bars... get to know them. The clocks are now going forward one hour…

Wednesday, February 28: at sea, 28°.

We do a bit of everything. Port talk. We see Wim win at roulette. Nella learns to make animals out of towels. Gala evening. First, I enjoy the piano-violin duo. Classical music that flows nicely into Nat King Cole's "Smile," sung beautifully, "You'll find that life is still worthwhile if you just smile." It becomes my motto. The four of us go to Canaletto for dinner, with Italian specialties. Nella, being Italian, has "invited" her, so we don't pay a surcharge. The food is delicious, but the decor and especially the lighting are disappointing. Then we go to the bar. Because the clocks have to be put forward, it's suddenly 1:15 a.m.

Thursday, February 27: Port Malai, Langkawi Island (Malaysia), 28°.

Beautiful day, lovely island. Unknown tropical paradise with not too many tourists. But still organized enough to embrace this place in its still primitive beauty after the poverty of the last destinations, for its minimum of cleanliness, hygiene, and facilities.

Only the day before was the ship notified that a cycling race, the Tour of Langkawi, would start outside the port gate. The result: disembarkation isn't possible until around 10:30 AM because no buses or taxis can get there. Technically, we lost an hour and a half, but by 10:20 AM we were on the (free for the first time, as it should always be) shuttle bus to Pantai Cenang (the most beautiful beach, full of resorts).

After negotiating, we agreed to share a taxi with Lut and Willy for five hours, "whatever." The price was 150 ringgit (€18 per person). We crisscrossed the lush green island and boarded a tourist boat for the four of us, which provided an hour of incredibly captivating cruising and sightseeing. Sometimes we cruised at breakneck speed, passing magnificent rock faces, mangroves, and panoramic views stretching out to sea. We lingered in a spot where small eagles flew en masse around our heads, and visited a fishing village built on stilts where all kinds of fish were bred or kept in large nets. Feeding small pieces of calamari resulted in a spectacle of 20-kg fish leaping out of the water, fighting for their bait, and a giant ray surfacing to be stroked and touched.

The surroundings give me a kind of "Amazon feeling." The nature and the entire setting are so beautiful and feel adventurous. It ends with a visit to Bat Cave. Whispering (no talking!) in the darkness and by the light of a single flashlight, we see masses of the largest flying mammals hanging among the stalactites and stalagmites. And then outside, among the intriguing mangroves, cute monkeys, a mother with her baby in her pouch delousing another mother with her baby barely an arm's reach away. Then we duck beneath jagged rock formations. An experience.

Afterward, we drive to the Machingang Mountain cable car, a peak 700 meters above sea level in identical cable cabins as Sentosa (Singapore). Climbing steeply at the top, we find a breathtaking view of the entire tropical island and its many offshore islands (one is called Pregnant Maiden Island) with small, hidden white beaches and its rich fauna and flora. Another wow moment. Apparently, it's also a hidden secret for budget travelers, as there are quite a few attractive, tanned, young, ultra-blonde girls around with braids. Of the Scandinavian type, a stark contrast to the petite, slender, and beautiful, dark-skinned local girls. On the way back, we catch a glimpse of Cenang Beach and its bars, restaurants, and shops. It's 4 o'clock, so food and a cold beer are welcome. Then follows the scenic route down from Langkawi en route to Port Klang, the gateway for two days in Kuala Lumpur (KL).

At 9:30 PM, a Chinese market is set up around the pool area, covered by sliding panels. Red lanterns, dragon decorations, and no fewer than ten stalls hang everywhere, where all sorts of noodles, dim sum, wontons, spring rolls, sushi, dumplings, steamed buns, yakitori, etc., are prepared and served live, ad lib. Some of the Asian crew parades past with masked dancers, big drums, and lots of noise. In short, it's exactly Chinese New Year, although the ceiling has to be opened again soon because the temperature is rising rapidly. An hour later, almost everyone is gone. Unfortunately, I couldn't join in the tasting because we had just dined with star entertainers The Macdonald Brothers from Glasgow and Eve Sheratt, a West End vocalist who had almost packed the house at the theater the night before. The brothers perform about 10 months a year, traveling the world on all sorts of ships and for various shipping companies. Cruise ship life at its best: performing once a week for a maximum of one hour, passenger status, good pay, and seeing the world. Easier than being a CD.

Friday, February 28: Port Klang. To Kuala Lumpur. 35°C and 85% humidity.

At 8:30 a.m., we're the first to disembark. The Mariner of the Seas, one of those miserable Royal Caribbean ships (4,000 passengers), docks next to us. We get the first taxi, and to our surprise, they rotate, with fixed prices depending on what you do. Wim and Anja are staying overnight in a hotel in KL. An hour's drive: $35. On the way, our driver, Kad, brokers a deal to take us back. But then proposes an all-inclusive tour and guide to all the sights for an extra 160 ringgit (+-€43). Let's think about it. Even though many must-sees are close together in the city center, a few taxis would still be necessary. We had to find a nice place for lunch, and Kad provided a guided tour in good English, advice, explanations, and everything we wanted—a good deal. About a quarter of the cost of the ship's shuttle bus full of seniors. And we're brought close to everything and pre-sorted. We're not complaining.

We admire the Royal Palace, a dramatic War Memorial, the Lake Gardens with their largest bird park worldwide, and orchids and hibiscus. Although we don't get off here. We can't enter the National Mosque: it's a Muslim service. But the old British railway station is a unique building, and so are the many buildings around Independence Square. Independence Square's independence from the British in 1957 proves to be a significant date in Malaysia. In the visitor's center, we see KL's growth and strengths on a giant scale model. Now that the famous Petronas Twin Towers (with a crossbridge paid for by Samsung) have been dethroned as the world's tallest towers, we hear that a "second-tallest skyscraper" (after Dubai) is coming soon. We visit Central Market, which lives up to our expectations: lots of Oriental batik and crafts alongside touristy trinkets you find all over the world. And an Asian food market.

A beer (€4 for a Carlsberg) is welcome, as it's hard to find in a predominantly Muslim city and expensive, unlike the food. I order two plates of local Malaysian food, Nella one, and water. The total cost is 22 ringgit = around €5. It's delicious, with entirely new flavors, but incredibly spicy, which doesn't sit well with Nella, who then requests a non-spicy dish. We're left with enough food for two more people. Then, via Petaling Street (Chinatown), we head to Kad. His usefulness proves true when he (very important on this cruise) finds clean restrooms and a quick stop for the obligatory photo in front of the Petronas Towers and such. Incidentally, that was the first restroom I found where I had paper towels on this cruise (we always had our own rolls, thankfully).

KL is one of the world's worst traffic-congested cities (population 2.2 million). But the goodwill and dynamism are palpable. The construction of a high-speed train to Singapore in 40 minutes (by car: 5 hours) and those skyscraper plans also prove this. Of course, they have natural resources (rubber, for example), but unemployment is barely 2%, and yet Kad, himself retired as a former soldier but updating his comment, calls these people "lazy bums" and says the Malaysians don't want to do ordinary work anymore; they're importing Indians and Filipinos for that. Where have we heard something like that before? There's free Wi-Fi in the terminal building! Yippie!

And on board, it's wonderfully quiet. Many will return much later and have seen less than we did. Although the four West Flemish people claim they did the same as us for only 85 ringgit instead of 210. Those Belgians! In the evening, I have a minor incident with wine cellar master Ingo because, besides quickly running out, the wines also can't be interpreted or recommended by the wine stewards. He's very weakly defensive: "Filipinos aren't sommeliers, they're only order takers." "I'm only on board for three weeks," etc. No matter how kind my constructive criticism, the German man blushes, while he's usually a clown. The conversation reaches an awkward level because he doesn't understand me and answers completely off-topic. Saturday, March 1,

Port Klang, Day 2, 29°.

Since we managed to see everything in KL (an hour's drive, and KL is a record city for traffic jams), we spend a quiet day on board. We were warned that there would be no water due to plumbing work. Once the water is back, I flush after a quick errand. To our dismay, water spurts out from behind the toilet, which doesn't drain. So our bathroom slowly fills up to the raised doorway. We raised the alarm, laid out sandbags, heu, large bath towels, and after some plumbing, vacuuming, and cleaning, everything is back to normal. No apologies were heard.

There's a BBQ at the pool from 5:30 PM to 8 PM. But we're going to eat and chat with our Belgian friends. We're being "sprayed away" to bed. The whole ship smells of disinfectant, and staff are spraying, sweeping, and cleaning everywhere. Every railing, handle, and knob. Also, in recent days, in addition to the regular disinfectant dispensers, there's now a crew member at every dining station who obligatorily sprays your hands.

Sunday, March 2, 2014: En route to Singapore, 27°C.

After breakfast in the cabin, we receive news of Tanya's bicycle accident: a broken knee and concussion, and a trip to the emergency room where she has to stay. It's a helpless feeling not being able to be with her right now. And communicating is difficult, the time difference, the internet connection is spotty... Oh well, she's a strong girl; it doesn't seem dramatic, but suddenly we're counting down the hours.

Disembark tomorrow morning, flight at 11:30 PM, landing in Brussels Airport at 8 AM on Tuesday. During the day, we saw a ship version of "Dancing with the Stars," which six passengers worked on throughout the cruise. It was well-conceived. Finally, a clever idea. We docked in Singapore at 5:00 PM. We used 860,000 gallons of fuel (85 per mile) and 174,000 gallons of drinking water per day. In total, we covered 2,450 nautical miles.

Monday – Tuesday, March 3-4, 2014: Singapore and return flight.

After a smooth disembarkation, we head to a day hotel I rented to comfortably spend the day. We take a stroll along the coast to LongBeach, a premium seafood restaurant where we feast on delicious giant crabs (black pepper crab is their specialty). And watch those crazy geoducks.

Then we rested a bit, freshened up under a giant shower, and had a smooth flight home. In Zurich (6:00 a.m.), the train connecting the underground terminals echoed with the sound of cowbells on alpine meadows and the mooing of cows. We couldn't stop… John picked us up in Brussels. Tanya was already back from the hospital; everything was going to be fine. Phew.

More photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wimvanbesien/sets/72157642303263374/