‘Your country has the four seasons, la?’
I had never thought of it like that.
‘That is the durian tree.’ He pointed to a surprisingly tall and wily tree amongst the vegetation. ‘The best durian comes from here.’
And I cycled past jackfruit seller after jackfruit seller, meticulously peeling away each segment from the giant fruit and putting them on trays for sale – all in the sweltering heat. How different this is from home – and how exotic!
Preparing jackfruit
The road was less steep and twisty, the wind was at my back. I cycled through endless palm plantations – sometimes visible stretching for miles when I reached the top of a little rise.
Palm plantation
Palm plantation
My goal was Bentong. At the bottom of the last little mountain ridge, it is my base for the final assault on Kuala Lumpur tomorrow. The last 5km into Bentong were like the last 5km at the top of the Cameron Highlands – traffic jam. The same masses from Kuala Lumpur that were swarming to the highlands for the long weekend were now returning home. Again I scooted past kilometre after kilometre of stationary cars as I rolled down into Bentong. I’m glad I’m not going to Kuala Lumpur today!
arctic-cycler.com 
Did you actually purchased a slice of the durian fruit?
And did you eat it?
Did you like it?
I never got over that awful smell so I never had the courage of giving a try to that supposed delicacy.
(If you did like it, next time try the swedish rotten fish called Surströmming
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surstr%C3%B6mming )
It was jackfruit, not durian. Durian is the most disgusting food I know (possibly with the exception of kymys from Kyrgyzstan).