Cameron Highlands II

"I have a weakness for beautiful sights," he said. "My brothers tease me."
"Your brothers are the foolish ones," Tealiff said, "for not seeing the strength in beautiful things."

*My first Graceling quote. I love you Po. :)

Thanks to my mother and sister being prone to motion sickness, it took me sixteen full years to finally go up to Cameron Highlands for the first time. My mom only truly considered it because they built a new road to Cameron Highlands that doesn't force you to have to stop to throw up. That was about two months ago, and ever since then I've been bugging the parents to go back up there, this time with my sister, and finally we went up to Camerons for the second time.

Why did I want to go up so desperately? Here are the reasons why.

Sticking your head - or hand - out of the window to feel the rush of cold air.

Eating these at the cheapest price in the country.

Having these out in a chilly, open garden.

And have about five rounds of strawberry milkshake at the top of  Raaju's Hill, though I never took a picture of it - I was too busy slurping up.

And feasting your eyes on sights like these:

Pictures speak a thousand words.

I spent every minute I could staring at the sky, staring at trees, staring at flowers, revelling in the cold, and drinking it all in - Cameron Highlands is the most picturesque place in Malaysia I've ever been, and as HuiJan once noted - I remember, Jan! - I really like picturesque places. I insisted on walking as much as possible, just to be out in the air, but when my family - or reason - trumped my obstinacy, I stuck my head out the window all the way, which is why in the majority of my photos my hair looks tootified. It's just so beautiful up there. And you know what? Anne Shirley always says (I can't give you a specific quote, so you'll have to take my word for it) that when she goes out to a beautiful place she'd lift her face up to the sky and just feel a prayer, and I can tell you this, that's a fact. :) It was good to feel it - God.

But I will leave you this excerpt from Anne of Avonlea.

"Look - do you see that poem?" she said suddenly, pointing.
"Where?" Jane and Diana stared, as if expecting to see Runic rhymes on the birch trees.
"There. . .down in the brook. . .that old green, mossy log with the water flowing over it in those smooth ripples that look as if they'd been combed, and that single shaft of sunshine falling right athwart it, far down into the pool. Oh, it's the most beautiful poem I ever saw."
"I should rather call it a picture," said Jane. "A poem is lines and verses."
"Oh dear me, no." Anne shook her head with its fluffy wild cherry coronal positively. "The lines and verses are only the outward garments of the poem and are no more really it than your ruffles and flounces are you, Jane. The real poem is the soul within them . . .and that beautiful bit is the soul of an unwritten poem. It is not every day one sees a soul. . .even of a poem."

I want to go back. ;)