Road to serendipity
Sometimes life-changing adventures can occur in the unlikeliest of places, writes
HIDDEN amidst the maze of trunk roads in Perak is a single main road riddled with potholes and sandwiched between derelict and crumbling structures. Welcome to Kampung Papan. To those who notice this place at all, it’s a random curiosity, a beacon without context.
It betrays no indication of a town that once teemed with people who sought their fortunes in this former tin mining hub. A place that traced the trails forged by early pioneers and augured the future of industrialisation in this country.
For Aziff Azuddin and his band of intrepid travellers, it’s yet another hidden page they had stumbled across in a country of paradoxes; of bright and glittery cities that co-exist with quiet nondescript towns and of a melting pot of races that have somehow learnt to weather deep cultural differences to forge a formidable nation.
This is Malaysia, where a plethora of new experiences, untold stories and a dizzying array of colours are bound together by an aching familiarity for those of us who call her home.
“We take for granted what’s right in front of us,” he writes in his book ,a compendium of stories, experiences and a diary of sorts documenting his Malaysian adventure. “Communities have narratives and histories that enrich, if not provide identity to these destinations.”
seeks to unearth those stories and uncover the secrets of the local landscape. Throwing together a playlist, some travel essentials and a motley group of friends with a thirst for adventure, Aziff takes us on a voyeuristic trip across Peninsular Malaysia — from witnessing an exorcism at a mosque in Subang to exploring remote towns and fraternising with local communities — to touch “... the very real and tangible lives of Malaysians”.
Pak Shafie Jusoh, legendary wau craftsman.
Tasik Chermin, Ipoh, Perak.
TravellING baCK IN TIMe
Putting his finger on the very heartbeat of Malaysia — her people, culture and places — is intrinsically linked to Aziff’s deep connection and romanticism attached to the country’s past. He attributes it to his grandfather, the late Tan Sri Abdul Rahman Jalal, who was involved in the early nationbuilding years of the country.
“My grandfather was the quintessential traveller,” he recalls of the distinguished statesman who had joined the Malayan Civil Service in 1954. Following Malaysia’s independence, he opted for the country’s newly-established Foreign and Diplomatic Service before finally retiring as ambassador in 1985.
Influenced by the simplest and most unexamined images of happiness, Aziff remembers growing up listening to his grandfather’s stories and adventures living abroad. “His dazzling stories inspired me to travel the world on my own,” he confides.
“My grandfather loved going off on unplanned trips and there were afternoons where we’d discover he’d disappeared, only to see him come back much later after yet another trip off the grid!” he recalls fondly, adding with a laugh that the elderly adventurer would sometimes arrive back with his car boot filled with fruits after chancing upon a random orchard during one of his well-known escapades. “It was just like him to take off suddenly and come back laden with knick-knacks, food and an interesting tale or two. Retirement hadn’t quenched my grandfather’s thirst for adventure at all,” he adds.
That and his childhood memories of the annual family exodus during Aidilfitri down south to Johor (set against the soundtrack of ABBA’s — his grandmother’s favourite) built his taste for travel. “As a child you don’t remember much beyond the food and other sights. This is why in the earlier years of my life, like many people my age, I wanted to embark on a voyage of self-discovery, to see the world beyond the boundaries and travel to faraway lands,” he admits.
Not long after, a trip to the ancient city of Chiang Mai got Aziff examining himself while feeling the tug to rediscover his roots. “I met with backpackers, expatriates and tourists, all of whom were tired of life at