-----------------------

This blogspot is a medium to share my thoughts and adventures apart from promoting my books. Below are the books which have been written or authored and published by myself.


"Berpetualang ke Aceh: Mencari Diri dan Erti".

ISBN 983-42031-0-1, Jun 2006


"Berpetualang ke Aceh: Membela Syiar yang Asal"

ISBN 983-42031-1-x, May 2007


"Berpetualang ke Aceh: Sirih Pulang ke Gagang?"

ISBN 978-983-42031-2-2, November 2007


It is interesting to note that while these books were written in Malay it has gained enough attention to merit being part of the collections of the American Library of Congress and National Library of Australia. Look here and here.


While the first three books were published by my own company, the fourth titled "Rumah Azan" was published in April 2009 by a company called Karnadya with the help of the Malaysian national literary body Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka. It features beautiful pictures along with stories behind selected mosques which could be related to the history of Islam and the Malays alongside the formation of the Malaysian nation. Look at the article A collaboration of old collegemates - the book "Rumah Azan".


My fifth book "Ahlul Bait (Family) of Rasulullah SAW and Malay Sultanates", an English translation and adaptation of the Malay book "Ahlul Bait (Keluarga) Rasulullah SAW dan Kesultanan Melayu" authored by Hj Muzaffar Mohamad and Tun Suzana Othman was published early 2010. Look here... My 5th book is out! Ahlul Bait (Family) of Rasulullah SAW and the Malay Sultanates... . For more information check out my Malay blogspot CATATAN SI MERAH SILU.



Like my fourth book "Rumah Azan", the sixth book "Kereta Api Menuju Destinasi" is also a coffee-table book which is published by the company Karnadya with the cooperation of Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka (the main Malay literary body in Malaysia). Coming out January 2011 it features pictures and stories on the adventure travelling by train to all of Peninsular Malaysia along with the interesting places which could be reached this way.


My seventh book "Jejak keluarga Yakin : Satu sketsa sejarah" in turn is a coffee-table book which is written, editted, designed and has pictures taken by me. Coming out of the factory October 2011, this book which combines family history with history of places such as Singapura, Johor, Batu Pahat, Muar and in fact the history of the island of Java and England has been reviewed with me interviewed live in the program Selamat Pagi Malaysia at RTM1. Look at the article Siaran langsung ulasan buku "Jejak keluarga Yakin : Satu sketsa sejarah" dan temu ramah di Selamat Pagi Malaysia. Some selected contents have been featured in Sneak peek "Jejak keluarga Yakin : Satu sketsa sejarah".


-----------------------


The "Berpetualang ke Aceh" series of novels could be obtained in e-book form. Enter http://www.e-sentral.com/, click general novel and go to page 4. You can also type the word "Aceh" at the search box. Or click straight Book 1, Book 2 and Book 3.


Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Trip to Europe 1995... Walking 50km in Paris before closing the trip in Brussels...

Me posing far in front of a very recognisable monument in Europe...


OK... Today is September 11, a very famous date because of a disaster which happened in New York exactly 6 years ago... The day after tomorrow Muslims (at least in Malaysia) will start fasting for the month of Ramadhan... So let me use this date to make a posting which will close the on-going session of stories made in 1997 based on a hitchiking trip in Europe of 1995... Here is part 10 and the last... Enjoy it... Cheers! :]

---------------------------


“When in Paris, don’t forget to see the Eiffel Tower, the Arch De Triumph, the Louvre and shop at the Champ Elysees,” a friend advised when I said I was going to include Paris in my travel around Europe. I did heed the advise, yes I did but in a manner that only a tourist with two Francs in the pocket can do.

Imagine if you were a stranger coming to Kuala Lumpur for the first time with only RM2 in your pocket. You don’t know the people. And you’ve lost the phone numbers and addresses of the ones you knew. What to do? At least with RM2, you can get three trips on the minibuses or two trips on the Intrakota. In Paris, the two Francs wouldn’t cover even the cheapest bus trip!

What would you do if you were in my shoes… In a country where the people refuse to speak or simply don’t know the language you spoke be it English or Bahasa Malaysia? Check the nearest Malaysian Embassy?

Actually I did think of that. Problem was I didn’t know where it was and wherever it was, it usually has to be somewhere in the city centre, quite a distance from where I was.

You see, I was dropped twenty-five kilometres outside of central Paris. I was lucky enough to get a lift in the morning from a nice middle-aged French lady who took me from Lyon driving 448 kilometres all the way towards Paris. The problem was she was going somewhere else. So I had to get off at Evry on the outskirts of Paris... A bit like being dropped in Kajang when you actually want to get to Puduraya.

As it turned out, this was the start of a walk covering a distance of fifty kilometres in two days. I had no choice!

So there I was alking alone with the heavy backpack trying to get to Paris, the capital of France where many rich Malaysians travel around in rented limousines or luxury coaches. It soon started to rain… I took shelter at an office at a construction site off the highway.

Next was at Ris-Orangis near the river Seine where my last Francs (French currency) was spent for a bottle of cola and three loafs of baguette. After my tea cum lunch, I went northwards passing Orly airport, two kilometres of the distance spent walking underground beneath the runways.

Whenever there’s buses and cars heading to central Paris, I posed a sympathetic look at the drivers, hoping to get a lift. But people rarely give strangers lift on their cars in the city, in fact in any city. Common sense soon told me it’s better to just keep on walking…

Paris had an extensive network of underground train. In London, I used to slip through security barriers at the train stations easily avoiding the train fare but it was a lot tougher in Paris. Each entry point was secured by a turnstile and a steel barrier that only opens when you insert the ticket into the receiver. There were also staffs hanging about watching the flow of customers getting in and out the train platforms not to mention the security cameras observing every nooks and crannies.

I was tempted to take the risk to go through the barriers and hop on a train relieving me the torture of walking for miles and miles. But the thought of the time spent in a police lock-up in Lyon two days before plus the fact that my name was probably in the police list advised against this.

What can I say… It’s walk, walk and walk again. By the time the sun sets (it was after 9pm, aftre ll it was summer!), I was at … (sorry, couldn’t catch the name of the place as the hardcopy for this story had a cigarette burn hole at this point), a few more kilometres to go to Paris. I stopped there for a short nap on a bench.

An hour later I arrived at Port D’ Italie on the fringe of the city of Paris. The entrance of a botanical garden nearby became the sleeping spot for the night…

Paris on foot was not a bad idea. From Port D’ Italie, I went pass Les Gobelins and Port Royal to Jardin Luxembourg where the Palais de Luxembourg lies, a palace which was once a prison for politicians and writers during the French Revolution. This was where Georges Danton, one of the founders of Republique of France was detained before he lost his head to the guillotine (the authentic French head-cutting machine).

From the palace, I walked across the river Seine to an island where the Palais de Justice, the local high court is situated. It was not far from the world-famous Louvre which houses some priceless paintings including some by world-famous turtles – Leonardo, Michelangelo, Donatello and Raphael. But I contented myself with just posing among the monuments and gardens surrounding the Louvre.

There was also the Grand Palais and the Petite Palais (big palace and small palace. Now that’s two too much palaces in Paris, isn’t it?).I also went to the Eiffel Tower, a must-go place for all tourists to Paris. My brief sojourn was spent under the Eiffel Tower right in the middle between the four main pillars of the structure.

Then there was the Trocadero, a square with cannon fountains, the Arch de Triumph, a world-famous archway and the Champ Elysees, the city’s main shopping street with its restaurants, boutiques and departmental stores ready to suck the tourists out of their hard-earned cash.

I concluded my tour of Paris at the Monmarte, the district known for its artistic population as I passed through a gathering of philantropist exchanging stamps on the benches in front of a park nearby the famous Marie Du Nord church with its erotic pointed towers. At a patrol station off St Denis, fifteen kilometres out of Paris, I got a lift from a Parissian heading for Denmark. That brought me to Brussels, capital of Belgium where Van Damme and his stupid accent was spawned.

By this time, I was running out of steam. The original plan was to get back to Amsterdam where I first started out my European tour. But I was tired, so tired… And I had totally ran out of food and money.

Brussels was also known for its chocolates, Belgian chocolates… My favourite since I discovered Thornton’s ( a chocolate brand) in London. But I can only look at those little creamy pieces and dream at the pleasure it has to offer… Arrgghh!!

So that night, 17th September 1995, using my crumpled London-Amsterdam round-trip ticket, I took a bus back to London ending 33 days of walking and hitchiking through eleven countries on 180 Pounds (Actually 130 Pounds as 50 was spent for the London-Amsterdam round-trip bus ticket).

I was glad to finish this journey. Travelling over 4,000 kilometres on the road on several different vehicles and 200 kilometres on foot was trying physically but satisfying mentally and spiritually. So was sleeping at various different God-forsaken places.

It was a lesson in survival, people skills and how to deal with danger and diffuse hostile situations. It gave me a bit of understanding of different ways of life, of why things are the way they are… Everybody whether thieves, muggers, prostitutes or executives, bankers and models can teach you something about life.

Thank you everybody for enriching my life. Adios…

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

ronifitrihanafi

122, jalan warisan indah,
kota warisan,
sepang, sel.

0172026617