Fuming bikers, fuming bikes

To Lima Kedai, Johore, Malaysia, 124 km. I feel like an ant surrounded by furious ants from another tribe. I try to avoid their stings - their exhaust pipes. But no way I can escape the exhaust fumes. We inch along towards Singapore immigration. The same thing happens on the return leg, at 1 pm. The jam is so bad, the motorcyclists horn furiously. I spend the last six hours in Johore but am not elated. I feel down, as down as the flat tyre that greets me when I awake. The 3-hour shelling from Friday still rings in my ears. I feel so lousy, I almost turn back after crossing the causeway. But I press on. Hard. My first sit-down break, at Lima Kedai, is three hours into the ride. I also stop at McDonalds at Skudai, where I finish reading The Star. My legs are sore, my butt is sore, but I start to feel better especially after prayer at a scenic spot. Today is also my first ride with my digital camera.