Being a Doer and not a Talker, I gathered 10 friends and family for a 5D 4N hiking trip to 3 different hills and 1 mountain in Perak, Perlis and Kedah. Do you still remember my ranting about my trip last year (in 2023) to Mong Gajah in Tasik Pedu, Kedah?
Click >> hereto read about my first time in >> Mong Gajah.
While I was enjoying my morning light at Mong Gajah, I saw a glimpse of the highest peak of Gunung Fakir Terbang (574 m) located in Tasik Pedu Kedah, hiding behind the thick morning mist. It is a part of the Trans Singgora (Banjaran Kedah Singgora), located at the border of Malaysia and Thailand. Amir, the owner of Tasik Pedu SeriMahawangsa boathouse used to share old folk stories about Tasik Pedu and its surroundings including Gunung Fakir Terbang, relating to the history of the Singgora Sultanate era.
End of season. Meo Vac. Ha Giang. Northern Vietnam. September 2018
My second visit here at Northern Vietnam and my first was five years ago.
This time around we covered Sapa, Y Ty, Ha Giang, Dong Van and the Ban Gioc waterfall in Cao Bang. We drove along the road close to the border of Vietnam and China starting and ending at Hanoi.
Acres and acres of dreamy layers of paddy field.
Mysterious. Dong Van. Northern Vietnam. September 2018
The road is narrow, long, rough and winding but the view is worth the pain.
Due to its small road, I think the best way to enjoy the landscape view here is with a motorbike. Riding slowly along the narrow path in between the layers and layers of paddy field and explore the life of Vietnamese ethnic minority here.
For the Muslim, halal food is difficult to find along the way. So, be prepared with your own food arrangement. I turned into a vegetarian whenever I travel, but it seemed like being a vegetarian here at Northern Vietnam is also very tough. Since I am aware of what I want to explore here … a little struggle on food has not dampened my spirit.
Just be a little flexible and creative on my diet choice then I would definitely survive.
Me. Sapa valley. Northern Vietnam. September 2019
Our local guide during this trip is uniquely interesting.
An adventurous girl, she claimed that she is always lucky with the weather. During the week … yes indeed! the weather forecast predicted that we would have a strong storm for the whole week throughout our visit but the weather decided to treat us fairly with at least 50% sunlight, 30% foggy moody grumpy weather and 20% light rain. She is indeed our weather lucky charm.
Corn ritual. Meo Vac. Ha Giang. Vietnam. September 2018
Hmong child. Bat Xat. Lao Chai. Vietnam. September 2018
The 3 musketeers. Dong Van. Ha Giang. Vietnam. September 2018
Nosy. Bat Xat. Lao Chai. Vietnam. September 2018
Flower girl. Hanoi. Vietnam. September 2018
Night life. Hanoi. Vietnam. September 2018
I accepted the gloomy weather during this trip ‘as is’, not complaining.
Plan B. The best time to capture clouds movement. Slow shutter landscape shoot and time-lapse video. So at each location, rain or shine, I make it a point to capture time-lapse moments. Each recording takes up to at least an hour for a 5-second interval of at least 7 seconds time-lapse video using my GoPro.
Sharing my time-lapse video here at my youtube channel.
Gorgeous beautiful world that we stayed in, Masya Allah. And … I am grateful that I have the eyes to see and a heart to feel. I want to see more, I want to feel more.
After so many places that I have been to, do I not feel bored?
After a while every place would look the same, she claimed. She travels a lot too. Covering common touristy places that normal tourist would go but yes, I think she has a good point there.
We tend to overdo things.
And when we overdo things, we’ll get numb and bored.
A farmer.Dong Van. Northern Vietnam.September 2018
I call it the “touch and go” kind of traveling … get to your next stop, the Instagram famous spot, then click here click there in 30 minutes run to the bus to the next stop, click here click there in 20 minutes back to the bus again and repeating that for 7 days while covering for 6 continents (I am exaggerating here yah).
After a few trips like this … places will look the same, there is not enough time to FEEL. The reason we travel is to experience the FEEL. Every place offered a different opportunity for us to FEEL but we need more than 30 minutes to explore the new surrounding and experiencing FEEL.
Hmong people. Dong Van. Northern Vietnam. September 2019
How not to get bored while constantly traveling? Create a unique moment for each place that you visited. To do that … you need to do slow traveling.
Take more time at each place. Breath the air. Wander along the street. Explore local markets. Stay at the local’s home. Trek the mountain. Cycle around the town. Hangout at the local restaurant. Join the local festival.
Time for bed. It is 11:25pm on 03.01.2019. Will continue my rant on my next post. Goodnight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The beginning
Moving forward with the running water sound coming from the stream along the way
The moody and wet surrounding has that calming effect on me
And the horror parts came … the trail starts ascending
And this view as I looked down at my trails
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.
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?
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.
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.
I saw colourful plants along the crossing trail … very interesting
The trail from my STRAVA
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
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 homeGrandma 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
MATSUDA MASHIMARU 