West Malaysia loop ride

I woke up early this morning — earlier than usual. Around 5-ish.

I decided to head straight for a shower… only to remember there’s no water heater in the common bathroom of this homestay. So yes — it was a cold shower.

Really cold.

But strangely, I enjoyed it. After a while, it didn’t feel all that icy anymore. It was brisk, refreshing — like a proper wake-up call. Once I was done, I changed, packed up my stuff, and sat at the dining table to write in my journal.

That’s when I heard the rumble.

At first, I wasn’t sure what it was… and then it hit me — rain. Not great news for the day’s ride, but we still had some time before we had to leave. So I carried on writing.

Soon enough, Alex got up and started getting ready as well.

By the time we all gathered downstairs to warm up our bikes and load our gear, the rain had stopped — perfect timing. The rain cooled down the morning, but let us prep in peace.

From there, we headed to a breakfast spot Tony had found nearby.

Breakfast this morning was close by — a place Tony found called Tong Lai Fak that specialises in wanton noodles. Yes, the name made us all chuckle, but the food? No joke. We rode over, parked easily, and got seated right away.

I ordered the red wine mee sua, while the other two went for wanton noodles. We added a side of fried wantons and our usual kopi-o-kosong. And I’ve got to say — breakfast today was incredible. Rich flavours, perfectly cooked noodles, crispy wantons, and great coffee. A fantastic way to start the day.

After breakfast, we hit the road. It was a solid stretch of riding before our first fuel stop, and soon after, we merged onto the expressway. We cruised through Ipoh, and then came that iconic stretch — the long uphill climb, the tunnel, and then the winding descent. That section of the expressway never gets old.

With skies looking a little threatening, I had packed away my camera and didn’t take any photos — just stayed focused and kept moving. Before long, we found ourselves at a rest stop near Tanjung Malim.

It was important that we took a proper break here — the heat had been relentless, and the exhaustion was starting to catch up with us. The expressway ride had been smooth and relatively uneventful, and we’d made up good time. From this point, we had just about an hour or so left to ride to Bentong, so we gave ourselves permission to linger.

Alex bought us some iced coffee and peanut butter waffles, and we shared the snack while sitting at one of the shaded tables. We talked about everything and nothing, watched other bikers roll in, admired their machines, and just took a moment to pause. It was one of those quiet, simple joys on a ride — not about the destination, just the shared moment.

Eventually, we geared up again and rolled out — exiting the expressway and moving onto the trunk roads.

That led us to one of the most enjoyable parts of the day: a climb up toward Genting Highlands, followed by a winding descent. The temperature dropped as we went up, and a gentle drizzle started falling. Coming down was slow, with tight corners and traffic, but the air was cool and the ride was a joy — a welcome contrast to the earlier heat.

At the bottom, we stopped for fuel, and then I brought everyone to one of my favourites: Restoran Kampung at Bukit Tinggi. This place never disappoints. I ordered my go-to: ikan patin in a claypot, and it was, as always, fantastic. Everyone enjoyed the food, and I was glad we made the stop.

We sat there for a good while — eating, chatting, and soaking it all in — before finally getting back onto the expressway. Another 30 or 40 km later, we rolled into Bentong with ease.

The Homestay from Hell

When we arrived at the Bukit Bentong Homestay we were glad there was space to park our bikes.

However, things took a turn when we went in to unpack. I walked into my room and genuinely couldn’t believe what I saw. It felt like a prison cell.

The walls were stained, and not in a light, accidental way — they looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in years. The head of the bed had a cement ledge that was also stained — with what looked like tea, coffee, rust… who knows. There was a mouldy, damp smell in the air. No place to hang anything, no room to move. Plus, the bathroom door does not close properly which meant the bedroom floor gets flooded too.

Tony’s room was no better.

Outside, we noticed cobwebs, and the water filter looked like it was filled with sand. The kettle? Brown and gunky inside. This place was just… awful. One of the worst we’ve stayed at, for sure.

We didn’t want to hang around too long. We tossed our clothes in the washing machine and got ready to get out of there. Danny, Tony’s friend, was joining us today, and when he arrived, we headed into town together.

Sweet Relief in Sweet July

We wandered around Bentong, but it was still scorching hot. Not many shops were open, so we made a beeline for the first decent café we could find. We ended up at a spot called Sweet July, located on the second floor of a shophouse.

It was clearly an Instagram café — designed for a younger crowd, with pastel tones, quirky furniture, and photo-ready corners. But it was cool, quiet, and exactly what we needed.

I had a strawberry yoghurt ice drink (so good I ordered a second), while Alex went for mango, and Tony and Danny each had some kind of lime-lemon concoction that arrived in literal mini pails. We shared French toast and egg tarts Danny had brought along from Ipoh.

The staff were kind, the vibe was relaxed, and we all felt human again.

Exploring Bentong’s Food Scene

By the time we stepped out again, the sun had mellowed and the street vendors were setting up. We passed stalls offering bak kut teh, Thai-style dishes, fried noodles, yong tau foo, chee cheong fun, and more.

We even wandered into an old market building, up on the second floor. It felt like an oven inside, but the charm was unmistakable. A row of old-school tailor shops lined the corridor, some still working away quietly. These places had clearly been there for decades. It was like a little time capsule.

Then, the rain started again — and we ducked into Wok Express for dinner.

We ordered four dishes and a plate of fried rice, telling the lady to prepare the rice for three. When it arrived, it looked like it could feed six. Either she didn’t believe us or thought we looked extra hungry.

The portions were massive, but the food was excellent. Full and happy, we took a walk outside (the rain had stopped by then) and decided to grab one last snack — a plate of char kway teow — before heading back to the homestay.

Back at the homestay, the proprietor offered to switch my room, but the alternative wasn’t any better. I figured I might as well stick with what I had — I’d already unpacked, after all. Because of the rain, all our clothes had gotten wet again. So, we rewashed them and found ways to hang everything indoors.

Tony and Alex were legends, helping figure out how to string up makeshift drying areas. Despite the challenges, the three of us just… made it work.

Drying Out in More Ways Than One

I don’t know — today was a strange one.

The ride was lovely. The café, the food, the company — all great.

But this homestay really pissed me off. I don’t understand how someone can rent out a place in such terrible condition and think that’s okay. It’s just not. It’s not clean. It’s not acceptable. It’s not decent.

But I’m grateful.

I’m grateful we could laugh it off, grit our teeth, and get on with it. I’m grateful that even on a day with a pretty terrible place to sleep, I got to explore a new town, eat fantastic food, and share it all with great people.

“This journey isn’t perfect — and that’s exactly what makes it real, and worth it.”

I’m not wishing this trip to end. Not at all.

This homestay? A blip.

The rest of the journey? Still amazing.

We’ve had great conversations.

We’ve seen new things.

We’ve shared a whole lot of food and a whole lot of laughs.

That’s what I’ll take with me.

Tomorrow, we ride again.