Category: Places

LOTR moment at Tongariro National Park

Matsuda Mashimaru3 Comments
DSCF0807
A seagull checking on me while I was staring at the view of the Wellington Habour

I am in Wellington, New Zealand at this time being.

Accompanying my daughter for her first-year University registration here in the city. Spent 2 weeks here with her, exploring the city and its surroundings while at the same time trying to make her comfortable with this new place where she would call her second home for the next 3 years.

Being a green brain, I got bored with CITY easily. Flipped through the “Free guide to NZ” Arrival magazine that I took from the airport, the turquoise colour of an acid lake in South Crater valley of Tongariro National Park caught my attention. But … naaaah! 8-hours walk of a total 19.4km would kill me instantly … so I think.

Then … I got really bored and kept thinking of that National Park.

The view of the mountains – Mt. Tongariro 1967m, Mt. Ngauruhoe  2291m (Mt Doom in the Lord of the Rings filming locations) and Mt. Ruapehu 2797m – make me more curious and I can’t hold it anymore and I purchased my Intercity bus ticket from Wellington to National Park station for the next day trip. And booked my 2 nights stay at YHA hostel, National Park.

I said to myself … fine, I just have a look at the park and walk around the easiest trail while enjoying my favourite thing to do when I am alone, breath in and breath out the air of freedom – the mountain fresh air, hmmm nice – it feels like home, comfortable.

IMG_5211
View in front of the hostel where I was staying. Well, look at that … thick clouds covering Mt Ruapehu. Not a clear weather to do the crossing

I don’t mind travel alone as I don’t have the urge to talk or even binge talk to anyone because most of the time my mind is always fully occupied with my own thoughts and imagination. I tend to forget about my surroundings too.

New Zealanders are super cool and very helpful too.

My first time in NZ … ohh I love New Zealanders as they treated me more as a co-human than as a strange Muslim lady with a head covered wandering loose alone.

IMG_5212
The view of Mt Ruapehu without the thick clouds

The weather was not very good on the day that I arrived at the National Park.

Raining with thick fogs surrounding the valleys. While contemplating either I want to do the crossing or just hang around, a group of people popped into the hostel front desk returning their gears. They just did the Tongariro Alpine Crossing in the rain and the thick fogs … and with their red and cheerful face even when they were soaking wet.

Damn it … I said to myself.

And this guy from Thailand with a wide happy eye just bluntly tell me … hey! have you done the crossing? If you haven’t, you better just do it … even if the weather is like this, it would be worth every single second.

And guess what … I paid the 40 NZ dollars for the National Park return transportation and rented a waterproof boot, a walking pole and a raincoat. I fixed my mind … I am all in for this. Just like that.

I need to see what the havoc is all about. Well … well … well … bare in mind that I hate trekking, I am not well trained and I am not even sure which box to tick in as Lucy, the front desk lady passed me a form to fill in … which level of mountain trekker am I? should I tick the beginner box?

As I am not even a beginner lol coz I am the type of person if given a choice where to park my car at the shopping mall … I would always choose the one very very very near to the entrance door.

Well … done with that. Lucy asked me … what makes me decide to do this? And I said “hmmm, I just wanna get over this. This curiosity bugs me” and she laughed.

IMG_5154
The park signboard … I had a goofy feeling while looking at this

Omg … It was a beautiful sight as I first stepped in the Mangatepopo car park but as I looked at the signboard (above) I got really scared. “Urghh I am so gonna die,” I told myself lol.

Overall from the opptimistic point of view, the Tongariro Alpine Crossing is worth every second of the 8 hours walk despite the thick fog and the occasional rain. I managed to click a few photos with my iPhone while struggling to keep up with the trails.

IMG_5158
The beginning
IMG_5163
Moving forward with the running water sound coming from the stream along the way
IMG_5165
The moody and wet surrounding has that calming effect on me
IMG_5172
And the horror parts came … the trail starts ascending
IMG_5177
And this view as I looked down at my trails
IMG_5187
This is the point where we start descending and trolling along the longest 11.3km in my whole entire life. Honestly … I never walk this far in my entire life

As I continue for another 11.3 km trails to Ketetahi Carpak the weather started getting irritated. The fogs thicken, the temperature started to drop further down (9-12 degree) as the raindrops started to clouds my glasses.

Omg, I was standing on a narrow trail between 2 very steep craters while my feet were shaken due to lack of sugar aka energy and my glasses was clouded. The sulfur smell filled the air. The air was super foggy, truly looked like from a sci-fi movie this place is.

IMG_5194
This is the turquoise colored lake that I saw in the magazine, the one that makes me want to visit this place

I was tired … near to the point of  ‘I want to give up’ mode. I kept reminding myself that if I quit in the middle of the trail, I have to pay NZ500. The cost to rescue you out of this place. But this place even in its worst weather is uniquely beautiful and I couldn’t help wondering to myself, how would this place look like if the weather is beautiful?

IMG_5179
Passing a flat crater before trekking up again in thick fog

It was all foggy and raining the whole journey down towards the carpark and I didn’t take many photos as I was super-super exhausted. This trail is not for beginners but maybe for intermediate trekkers. You need to be well prepared if you decided to do the crossing. It was so hard for me and I still have sore muscles all over my body now (after 3 days).

I cried at the very last 6.3km, as my feet could not take it anymore.

I discovered how does it feels when you are too damn tired but you still need to go on. I discovered that I am mentally strong even when I am alone.  I discovered the feeling of helplessness when my feet were out of its physical strength but with my will to go on and survive, I ended up winning.

Other trekkers passed by me one after another leaving me alone struggling with my incapabilities. I discovered how sad it is to be left behind. Oh and I really hate that feeling of being left behind, it is lonely … but I kept my chin up and walk slowly imagining myself doing a brisk walk at my most favourite park.

IMG_5200
Struggling even to lift up my iPhone, ohh I am not fit … something that I need to work on

Would I do this again?

Minus all my self-discovery moments, weirdly I would say yes.

I am not done yet with this place. I definitely would do this again maybe in December when summer is here. I want to capture the beautiful landscape of this place in its most beautiful setting but I am gonna make sure that my body is fit enough to do this … so that I could see more and enjoy more of this place.

IMG_5202
I saw colourful plants along the crossing trail … very interesting
IMG_5213
The trail from my STRAVA 
IMG_5206
My shaky feet with that rented waterproof boot after the 8 hours journey. Yaaay! I walked 19.4km for 8 hours … victory!

Conclusion:

Feb 28, 2018. I walk the 19.4km Tongariro Alpine Crossing on my own in 6 hours. I took 37,000 steps that day equivalent to climbing 139 floors. My first time. I survived with a 3-days worth body muscle ache but feeling alive and spiritually nourished. I am glad I decided to give it a try … to push myself to exceed my limit.

That night I had the worst sore muscle ever. Sooth my body with some boiled eggs and a litre of protein (fresh milk). I hit my bed early at 9pm while listening to my best friend’s voice on the phone, soothing me down with his calm voice. He thinks that I am crazy but I assured him that at least I didn’t die.

I took the next day bus to Wellington with a victory and a bliss feeling. Alhamdullilah.

I plan to explore more of NZ during these 3 years, taking it slowly and meaningfully. Learning to improve me … while inspiring my children and people around me to do more in life than just merely living. Anybody can do this. Just do it, no excuses, please.

Excuses are just for the weaklings, and I am not!

Bye for now

 

 

Cheers,

MM

New Zealand: Tongariro National Park February 27th to March 1st, 2018

 

 

Street thrill in Dhaka

Matsuda MashimaruLeave a comment
MYS_3198-Edit
A woman we met at a village outskirts of Dhaka

It was all about capturing moments of human interest when I was in Dhaka, Bangladesh recently. My first time and like always, I have a zero expectation of this place … I was like ok Dhaka surprise me, please.

IMG_3803
Friends shading from the early morning rain on the street of Dhaka

It rained cats and dogs during the first 3 days of my 6 days stay. But being a hardcore wanderer … the rain couldn’t subside my curiosity. I was out wandering along the markets and back lanes of Dhaka … in the rain.

My first impression was that the street smells pleasant.

Surprisingly Dhaka is way cleaner than India, 10 times cleaner than India … I shall think so. At least the street is not treated as the public toilet by the 18.2 million city residents. People everywhere seemed busy and fully occupied here.

NEP_9845-Edit
A peak from the train window in Dhaka

My second impression is … the food is good.

It tastes about the same as in India, Pakistan and Nepal.  And my taste buds think that the biryani here is very delicious and I had mutton biryani for almost every day here too. Sharing a clip video ↓ of my obsession with mutton biryani … obsession lol?

We traveled in a big group this time around … 15 of us scattered around the street yet we saw completely different views. How awesome was that? When I saw my friends posted their version of ‘the street of Dhaka’, almost always I would pound my head and asked myself about why oh why I did not see it from their angles.

It is proven then … every each of us is unique in our own way.

NEP_0169-Edit
Hard life for an honest living in Dhaka

As I strolled along the streets, villages and some back alleys I saw hard work and hard life here … yet the people of Dhaka is rich in hospitality. Walking and talking with strangers has never felt a burden here … some even invited us to their homes for a cup of cha or tea.

MYS_3938-Edit-Edit
A boatman trying to make an honest living in Dhaka

To be honest, there are hundreds and probably thousands of Bangladeshi working here in my home country Malaysia. I see them everywhere and every day too. When I posted my whereabouts to a group of friends … they jokingly teased me on why the need to be in Dhaka when I can just hang out at Pasar Borong Selayang (a wholesale market in the heart of KL) or the famous Chowkit road and just be surrounded by them?

It is normal to have that tendency to treat foreign workers at your country home differently ( I guess I am guilty too)  but being in Dhaka … experiencing just a few days living in their home country does change my perspective.

I see them in a different way now … a more human way of looking at fellow humans trying their best to survive in the high-density human populated area on our one and only earth.

DCIM100GOPROG0118425.JPG
Boats at Buriganga River in the middle of Dhaka

Would I recommend Dhaka for your next trip? Should I repeat for another round of trip exploring Dhaka?

………. absolutely, yes!

Thanks for dropping by here at my space… on the last day of 2017. Resolution time … resolution … resolution. Bye …

Cheers

MM

ps: my January article in NST bots on ‘People at Work’ with Dhaka as the background story. NST 01:18

Yes … the street of India

Matsuda MashimaruLeave a comment

IND_9528Re-visiting my India’s photos for my latest NST assignment to celebrate Deepavali or Dewali. All these photos bring back memories of me surviving India and I think its time to repeat India again.

I am yearning to experience another round of emotional burst … in India maybe in 2018.

Sharing a few more photos of the bustling street of Old Delhi, New Delhi.

And my article on India for the NST readers is turning out well too, alhamdullilah. I am sharing it here for my own future reference.

22522527_10214429080743733_643092219_o

Bye for now.

 

Cheers

MM

 

ps- buzzing head … need to stay focus!

Secret Hideout in Kuala Terengganu

Matsuda Mashimaru2 Comments

IMG_2322I found a new secret hideout in Kuala Terengganu, Terengganu, Malaysia.

A simple, quiet and rusty place for an introvert soul, like mine … or let me rephrase it again, an OLD and worn out soul like mine. Lol … Selfish me, everything has to be like mine … mine all mine, no sharing and I do not want to share my soulmate either (if I ever have any) … gth! mental … oh yes!
IMG_2324
Pak Awi’s Yellow House located at Pulau Duyung, Kuala Terengganu

Kuala Terengganu has a few small islands in-between the mainland and Pulau Duyung (Duyung Island) is the largest island. I flew over the islands during a paramotor event last 2 years. Never occurred to me that there are interesting stories to explore down there on the islands.

 

IMG_2325

Well … Pak Awi didn’t pay me anything to promote his place so don’t get me wrong. I just love the place.

I found a new hidden place that I could stay for a few days or even weeks without creating a big hole in my wallet. A cool and safe place to go home to after hours and hours wandering around Kuala Terengganu.

IMG_2331
Lepaking at one of the bench 

What would I do here in Kuala Terengganu? Hmmm … I am going for a story hunting and I myself not sure what is the outcome gonna look like, lol.

I plan to hang around with the makciks (mid-aged ladies) around the villages listening to them gossiping he he he and the pakciks (middle-aged man) around the coffee shops or jetties reminiscing about life. Tengok berapa lama boleh tahan … the rest is a secret.

A few more photos of my new found hiding place before I end this post.

Surrounded by mangrove trees
So, you can here all kind of birds and insect sounds here
This antique …
the hangout hut
sleeping inside a mosquito net

Last but not least … my all time favorite breakfast, Nasi Kerabu.  A blue colored rice mixed with fresh vegetables, salted egg, stuffed green chili pepper, a piece of roasted chicken and sambal (chili paste). Wallah … am hungry now … gotta run.

IMG_2318

Bye

Cheers,

MM

ps- sambil dengar lagu “kutuliskan kesedihan, semua tak bisa kau ungkapkan, dan kita kan bicara dengan hatiku” dan perut yang lapar

Enchanted by the Mongolian

Matsuda Mashimaru2 Comments

While travelling in Mongolia, their nomadic lifestyle caught my attention.

After embracing a minimalist mindset a few years ago, I gradually found myself drawn to the idea of living with a nomadic mindset, too.

Not that I’m ready to pack my bags and move from place to place just yet — hmmm, not yet — but I sense (acewah, boleh plak sense lol) that thinking like a nomad allows me to explore life more freely. Carrying unnecessary baggage, whether physical or emotional, only weighs me down. Being too attached to materials or even people can quietly hold me back from stepping beyond my comfort zone.

Having the chance to live with real nomads in Mongolia, even for just a few days, was a deeply nourishing experience. About half of Mongolia’s population still leads a nomadic life, herding their livestock freely across the vast open lands — a humbling reminder of what it means to live simply and freely.

Origil lives in Terelj National Park, Ulaan Bataar, Mongolia

They live in gers — large, comfortable, tent-like homes that can be packed up and moved from one campsite to another at least four times a year. This seasonal migration helps them find the best pastures for their livestock and shields them from Mongolia’s harsh climate, especially during winter.

Living in a ger frees them from the burden of rent or bank mortgages — a refreshing kind of freedom, far removed from the financial pressures many of us face. It was my first time in Mongolia and my very first encounter with anything related to Mongolian culture.

The food, the people, the traditions, the biting winter — everything was completely new to me. Luckily, our local guide, Alma, had everything perfectly planned out. We were like empty shells, ready to be filled with whatever Mongolian adventures she had in store for us.

The freezing winter didn’t stop us from exploring. There was even a moment when we found ourselves lost in the middle of nowhere — an unfamiliar valley blanketed in thick snow that had completely hidden the trail (which was really just faint tyre marks across a vast plain). At that point, we surrendered entirely to Alma and our driver, Oyunna — trusting their instincts and experience to guide us through.

It was, without a doubt, one of the rawest adventures I’d ever had.

I’ll be sharing a few photos of the people we met along our eight-day journey through Ulaanbaatar and beyond. Looking back at these images reminds me of their warmth, their generous hospitality, and all the funny, heartwarming moments we shared while trying our best to blend in with their culture.

We spent two days at Janat’s home, a warm, welcoming Kazakh Mongolian family. Every morning and afternoon, we’d watch Janat and his son, Bota, tending to their herd. It was like a live documentary of nomadic life, except this time, we were inside the story.

The family treated us like one of their own. We even shared their daily meals and that’s where things got interesting. I had my first taste of steamed horse meat and, unknowingly, chewed on steamed cow testicle like a pro (only found out after I swallowed it… classic me). Honestly, I’m not picky when it comes to food. As long as it’s halal and edible, I’m good to go. If no one had told me it was horse meat or a cow testicle, I probably wouldn’t have noticed anyway. Meat tastes like meat to me. First time for everything, right? He he he.

Living in a minimalist home, a ger, was kinda cool too… except for one thing. The toilet was sooo faaar aaawaayyy. Imagine this: winter temperature below -17℃, icy winds slapping your face, and your mind desperately negotiating with your bladder … “Nope, not now, please hold it in!” 😂. Let’s just say, I’ve collected quite a few hilarious toilet stories during this trip — but those are reserved for personal requests only!

To reach Janat’s home, we had to travel for hours across a roadless plain, guided only by the mountains and our fearless driver’s gut instinct. To be honest with you, I completely lost track of where we were but that’s the charm of Mongolia. Getting lost is part of the adventure.

Grandma’s home
Grandma Dorjsuren with her daughter Enkhtuul (purple) and Oyunna (blue)

Then there was Grandma Dorjsuren.

We stayed for a night with Grandma Dorjsuren Dambiinyam and her hardworking daughter. To reach her place, we have to travel for hours wandering on a roadless plain … towards a certain mountain, he he he I also lost track of our whereabouts.

At first glance, she looked like the strict, no-nonsense type — the kind who’d give you that look if you misbehaved. But when she hugged me, oh my… her warmth melted me right away. I liked her instantly. Actually, I think my soul liked her even more. Their gers were tucked behind a small hill, but even that couldn’t protect us from the freezing wind that shook our tent all night long.

Still, I told myself — I’m tough, like a nail stuck in a wall! 💪

Grandpa Bor with his livestock

We also spent a night with Grandpa Bor (in his 80s) and Grandma Yandag (in her 70s). Don’t be fooled by his sweet, innocent face — this grandpa is full of jokes and cheeky charm! Fun fact: he and his wife once appeared in a fashion magazine as models for Mongolia’s tourism campaign. Talk about a power couple!

The journey to their valley was wild. Thick snow, white plains, and absolutely no sign of a road. Honestly, I still don’t know how our guide managed to drive us there. GPS? Gut feeling? Pure magic, maybe!

On our way to Grandpa Bor’s home. Oyunna manually changed the tyre setting to 4×4

Grandpa proudly told me that he once owned over a thousand goats and sheep before sharing them with his children. Their livestock is seriously tough; they can survive temperatures as low as -17°C! Totally different breed from our pampered tropical goats back home.

When I showed him photos of goats from my country — Jamnapari, Boer, and Saanen — he burst into laughter. He couldn’t get over the fact that our goats have such long ears and are bald with no fur! Despite the language barrier, Grandpa Bor was a natural comedian. His jokes were so weirdly funny that I often needed a full five minutes just to understand them. But one thing was clear — I could feel his sincerity through every laugh.

Hmmm… observing their nomadic lifestyle and listening to their stories about moving from one place to another made me reflect on what resilience truly means, the quiet strength to adapt and flow with life’s unpredictability.

To live in rhythm with nature, to follow the seasons, to build and rebuild a home wherever the land welcomes you, what a profound lesson in letting go. Moving four times a year doesn’t make them restless; it makes them flexible, grounded, and alive.

And being a nomad doesn’t mean being cut off from the world. They are connected in their own beautiful way. Solar panels illuminate their gers and power their daily appliances, while their trucks transport them across the vast, open plains. They live simply, yet they live fully.

Perhaps that’s what I long to learn — to carry a nomadic spirit within my minimalist path. To travel lighter, not only in possessions but also in thoughts and emotions. To embrace change with grace, and to trust that wherever life leads, I’ll find my footing again.

Looking back at these photos makes me long for more. More adventures that open my heart, and more quiet lessons that shape my minimalist soul. Mongolia reminded me that life doesn’t have to be filled to feel full. Sometimes, the less we hold on to, the more we can receive. The nomads I met taught me that home isn’t a fixed place; it’s a state of being. It’s in the wind, the laughter shared over simple meals, and the courage to keep moving forward, no matter how uncertain the road may be.

With that, I’ll see you at my next post.

Cheers,

MM

“My great hope is to laugh as much as I cry; to get my work done and try to love somebody and have the courage to accept the love in return” ~ Maya Angelou