The Green Bowl

of Malaysia, overturned, almost midway down the Titiwangsa mountain range which snakes down the length of Peninsular Malaysia. Most of us know it better as the Cameron Highlands, carpeted by manicured tea shrubs clinging to the steep mountainous terrain.

Leaving KL last Friday afternoon, we avoided the end-of-the-week traffic madness. Once we turned off the highway into the Titiwangsa range, we navigated the bends at leisure, (too slow- grumbled city gal) soaking up the landscape at the elevation of 1,500 meters and climbing. We had been looking forward to the cool retreat of the hill station. Our destination was the Malayan Nature Society chalets, tucked away in the folds of the Boh Tea plantation. Once we got off the main road and tourist route, the panoramas became even more overwhelming.

Nightfall was not far off and a high wind hurried the clouds along. We'd just climbed into the clouds and the gravel mountain track was getting narrower and more difficult to navigate with potholes and loose rocks, not to mention the possibility of making a fast, unintended descent down the steep slopes. Then it happened! We didn't take the fast track down thankfully.The precipitation dropped by the cloud cover, loose gravel and wicked potholes had us skidding and the next thing we knew, we were lying on our backs, moaning and groaning, (me laughing and P cussing) lying next to a reproachful fairing-cracked and chipped bike. Bruised knees and arms, we managed to heave the bike upright motivated by the smell of leaking petrol. We certainly didn't need any more excitement at this point! I'd seen the Hulk do stuff like this so I knew that it was possible to muster the energy burst, never mind that it was a 250kg gal we had to lift. The last light slipped away quickly.

the gravel road, thankfully the way back was less eventful and less slippery

Grateful that it was only 500 meters to end destination, we welcomed help from a kind fellow biker who walked down the path to offer a hand and carried our bag up the last punishing dreaded steps to our room.

tea pickers accommodation perched on the hill slopes

the characteristic green tea pickers abode was our living and dining retreat

The temperature kept dropping, marked by the constant opening and closing of room doors by each person in our company retreating to search for another item of clothing to don for the battle of the chill. 16 degrees- certainly lower than anticipated and we sat on the veranda huddled in candlelight, swathed in clouds, contented.

dawn on the veranda, everyone's still tucked in and asleep
(except me and the 2 four-footed friends)

shrouded in mist and cloud

our constant companions busy with chew sticks I presented them with

staking out the steps to the dining hall

the dining room experience reminiscent of dorms, boarding schools and kiddy camps

checking on the mean machines, dogs included on the inspector roll

reflection of the highlands

one-tree hill

this friendly little one was always waiting around the corner

The Boh Tea estate dates back to 1929. The Green Bowl has the ideal environment for tea growing-cool temperatures, high altitude (1,500 - 2,000 meters), slightly acidic soil, abundant rainfall, log hours of sunshine and well-drained soil. At this altitude, growth is slowed down and the tea acquires better flavour and aroma.

the Boh estate processing plant open for public visits

note the 45 degree angle slopes which offer good drainage and a good day's workout!

each full basket of freshly picked tea leaves weighs about 20kgs

Only the top 1-2 inches of the mature plant are picked every three weeks. These buds and leaves are called flushes.

handheld tea picking machine

rain-beaded flora after the heavy storm in the night

at first light and the cupboard is bare

The 4km walk to the Boh tea house and back was a pleasant trudge with refuelling on tea and scones to keep us going. The smell of damp earth and the chlorophyll of jungle vegetation heavy in the air coursed into my lungs filling my being with the buoyant feeling of goodness.

I breathed deeply, contemplating the rich aroma of life and nature in the air. Fed by the flood of crisp morning air, laden with a million traces of life, my senses were awakened. The intimate relationship between smell and taste came into play, like a wine connoisseur who pauses to "taste" the wine's bouquet before even the very first sip, the taste of damp woodsy earth unfolded on my tongue.

This was Rasah Tanah- the taste of the earth.

"What a salad!", P said. A veritable smorgasbord of every shade of green sprouted from this landscape- the lush green of moss, fern, asparagus, olive, pear, pine, sea, celedon, lime, tea, emerald.

our night light attracted these amazing insects

the largest moth in the world, the Atlas moth gracing us with its appearance on our last morning

without fully-formed mouth parts, the Atlas moth does not feed and survives entirely on larval fat reserves throughout their brief 1-2 week adult life

English styled cottages nestled in the plantations were home to estate managers

a Hindu temple attended by the tea pickers

weekend company



heading home



solitude and serenity

Footnote:

Heeding the prudent advice of a good friend, I'm adding a footnote to this post. To some, it would seem that I had omitted the mention of some aspects of the reality of living in this Eden. My elixir of life may differ vastly from another's. In the royal presence of Nature, other concerns pale for me. But here it is- the lodgings and furniture were charmingly simple and unsophisticated, with no pretense of elegance, mostly made out of inexpensive wood complimented with the ubiquitous red plastic chairs. For the urbanites (who isn't these days!!), the essential hot showers were running (out of a filled bucket). Tired looking blankets kept the nights bearable.These rustic "chalets" were previously home to the humble platation tea pickers, not estate managers- so go figure!