It's a pleasant drive out of the city, winding through old rubber and palm oil plantations, a few shanty-looking towns and several Malay villages …peering into a way of life that perhaps seemed all too familiar to the British planters who used to own large tracks of lands out here at the turn of the 19th century.
Colonial planters and estate managers worked hard on their lands for most times of the month. Then when it came to payday, which was usually once every month coincidentally coinciding with a weekend, they walked or cycled into town some 60-odd kilometres away…first to the banks then to the popular watering holes. The planters got merry and rowdy on 'Setengahs' (a popular drink with ½ measurement of water, ½ measurement of whisky). After the long awaited weekend, the planters returned to their humble little cottages tucked away on the edges of the jungle.
For most of the time, these estate managers remained on their rubber plantations, most likely living a solitary life - looking forward to a hunting outing with fellowmen from neighbouring estates.
Would they have seen the million twinkles in the night, afloat on a sampan coming back from a hunting or fishing trip upriver? I wonder….
