Chapter 12 – The Road to Kuala Lumpur and a
VisaFire on the Beach
The time had come to load the bikes once more and leave behind the
comfort of friends and the brief taste of luxury. The road carried us
along the coast, the sea glimmering beside us, villages unfolding in
quiet rhythm. By late afternoon, just before reaching Port Dickson,
we discovered a campground tucked against the beach. It was perfect
—trees for shade, a toilet and shower, and no charge. The kind of
unexpected gift the road sometimes offers.
But euphoria dissolved quickly. While setting up the tent, I stepped
onto a fire-ant nest. Within seconds, hundreds of ants swarmed up
my legs, their bites igniting my skin. The palms of my hands and
underarms burned as though aflame, and I found myself thrashing in
a frantic, graceless dance—sweating profusely while cold shivers
coursed through me.
Relief came only through Ernest’s foresight. He produced
antihistamine tablets, and after an hour the burning subsided, leaving
me exhausted but grateful. The beach, once a sanctuary, had turned
briefly into a battlefield.