Riding the Monsoon Winds: Malaysia
& Singapore by Bicycle
Chapter 1: Crossing Borders Crossing into Malaysia
The border crossing between Thailand and Malaysia felt like stepping
through a doorway into another world. On one side, the saffron-robed
monks and gilded spires of Thailand; on the other, the elegant
silhouettes of mosques, their minarets piercing the sky. The shift was
immediate and profound—Islam, Malaysia’s official religion, infused
the landscape with its own cadence. Women moved gracefully in
modest attire, headscarves catching the light, adding a quiet dignity
to the colourful streets.
Ernest and I pressed southward, our wheels humming against the
road as limestone hills rose around us like ancient guardians. The ride
was spectacular—each turn revealed a new vista, a postcard come
alive. By late afternoon and after 110 km, we reached Kuala Perlis, a
fishing village tucked into the far northwestern corner of the country.
At the jetty, the Floating Mosque awaited us, poised above the water
like a vision. Its walls, studded with corals and pebbles, shimmered in
the fading light. As the sun descended, golden hues spilt across the
Strait of Malacca, and the mosque seemed to float not just on the
sea, but in time itself. We stood in silence, watching day surrender to
night, the journey already weaving itself into memory.