Niall Clerkin

January 11th, 2010

We got to Malaysia after a mammoth 15 hours travel from Phangan. A boat and 3 different buses. At Surat Thani one of the travel agents tried a new scam on us. They told us that the Malaysian customs would check that we had at least 300 Malaysian Ringitt with us and would not allow us to enter if we didn’t. The agent could change our Thai baht for us (what decent folk) and 300 MR was 5,500 Baht. What they didn’t know was that we had already checked the exchange rate and knew that 300 MR is 3000 Baht, so they were looking to make 2500 Baht on the transaction (50 Euro). Scammetry indeed. I told them that I didn’t believe them, having read nothing of this rule and they insisted that I would not be allowed in. I told them they could send me back. There was of course no such rule. Scam merchants.

We crossed the Penang bridge at about 9pm. Its a very impressive piece of engineering (designed by a local man) that is a stunning 13.5Km long and joins the island province to the mainland. Penang is the second smallest province but one of the most populous. Georgetown, its capital was a major centre for the British East India Trading Company and so flourished during the 19th century.

We had reservations at Banana Guest house on Lebuh Chulia. When we arrived they were on the street touting the room to other travelers. It was the only room they had left and weren’t going to keep it, as we were nearly 2 hours late. Not a great start. Still they had internet access, people were sitting around eating & reading and looked fairly content so it couldn’t be all bad. They showed us the room. It had a bed. Not one more stick of furniture. The walls were the “click-in” walls of a porta-cabin, a larger room having been divided in 3. Still it was cheap so we weren’t too worried. The shared bathrooms were not the Saviour of banana. 3 cubicles in the mens, all squatter type with the showers directly over them. Where to stand then while showering? No hooks or shelves for towels or clothes, so no real viable way to shower. 2 sinks with mirrors but again, not a bench, shelf or hook. The facilities were totally inadequate. If you are hosteling in a shared bathroom situation, they have to be good. But it was late, we were wrecked so we stayed and slept.

First thing the next morning I went on a tour of the other hostels. The fourth I tried, “Crystal” was much better. Western toilets, good hot showers, a mirror and sink in the room, a table and a television with cable. When a lady who worked at Crystal pointed to the boss with the words “Talk to the Fat Man, he’s the boss” we knew we’d take the room. All done early, we  set out to enjoy Georgetown.

The city has an old grace, dignified despite its incontinence. Character and decrepitude all at once. Clint Eastwood naked. The basic buildings are much grander than those of Vietnam or Thailand. The spaces large and open plan. Deep open drains for the rains (and unfortunately rubbish) line each street and they are not a place you want to slip your foot into. Most of the footpaths are within the buildings, like walking through arch after arch beneath the balconies of the homes above. Modern buildings speckle the outlying areas of the city, like Komtar, the 6th highest in Malaysia where there is a 360 degree view from the bar on the 60th floor.

We explored Little India, with a food guide in hand seeking out the best of everything. Mung bean and coconut milk soup from a recipe handed down through generations, not to be had anywhere else in world. Tuna samaos at the most famous samosa food stall, charcoal toasted bread with Kaya, an egg jam, and Teh Tarik, tea with condensed milk that is “stretched” as it is long -poured between containers. Fantastic foods all available for pennies, and made with a smile.

On Love Lane (named for the Chinese matchmakers who once resided there) we found the “Little Angel Cafe” for traditional Malay foods such as Rice Porridge with toasted sesame oil on top, Laksa  spicy soup with noodles, fish sauce and pineapple gratings. Little Angel also did the best coffee since Vietnam.

We got ourselves on local bus number 204, which took us 10Km into the suburbs to the funicular station at Penang Hill. This is an 850 metre mound in the centre of the island, with great views and Georgetown and its environs. The tickets were 4 MR return, less than a Euro each and the 2 train journey took about 40 minutes including switching tracks.

The carriages included women in Burkas, headscarves, shorts, heels, white, Malay, Arab, Chinese. What a huge mix. The impossibly young married Muslim couple next to us on the first journey were very touchy feely which I was gladdened to see but I also noticed what looked like a severe cigarette burn on the inside of her wrist, which looked ominous. Everyone has settled in Penang through the years.

At the Penang State Museum we followed the stories of the Burmese, Ceylonese, Sumatran, Chinese, Indian & British settlers. The growth of a mixed Malay identity with the absorption of so many traditions is the key message in the nicely kept Museum.  The Vietnamese Curators could learn a thing or two from these guys. From the top of the hill the views are fantastic. Watch the city apartment blocks blend into the valleys, reaching out like concrete arteries.

Temples and Mosques are all visible dotting the hills, and one of each sit atop the hill itself. The bridge disappears off to the distant mainland at Butterworth and the bigger boats wait patiently beneath for their turn to pass. Its such a simple little attraction, a funicular and a view but it cost a few pence and seemed a lovely way to spend the afternoon.

We walked to an Aviary Garden at a hotel on the hill and saw lots of exotic birds, but felt terrible after paying in and helping to enclose the lovely birds. They were kept in small enclosures and were clearly going demented. They place was also infested with large mice scurrying here and there about there business. They were quite entertaining.

There are interesting buildings and histories dotted around the city. Fort Cornwallis is the original British Administration centre on Penang. A star shaped fort on the north easterly headland, the town of Georgetown stretches out from this focal point.

There is not a lot of it left, but they have restored the walls and there is a fair attempt to tell the story of the birth of Georgetown. The day we walked around was incredibly hot and the aircon in the old cells (now the display rooms) wasn’t working which made it very difficult to follow the history. We noted a lots of crows crowing in the area of the fort. We hadn’t heard one since leaving Ireland over 3 months before and wondered why here? in this bastion of British Colonialism?

-Old Bean, What say we discharge a few rounds in the grounds of the Fort?

-But Dear Boy, we are in Georgetown,  it is frowned upon to shoot the natives.

-JEEVES!

-Yes Sir.

-Send for crows, dispatch the ship immediately. We shall civilise this country yet!

The Victoria Clock Tower stands 60 metres high, next to the fort, in commemoration of Queen Vicki’s 50th year.

There is a lot to Georgetown when initially it could be easy to brush it off. Go looking for Canni Roti and Nasi Goreng. Drink Jaz beer. Follow the street food. Relax.  Eat in Halal restaurants and discover they are no different. Allow yourself to wonder how so many communities seem to happily live side by side. Watch out for the big ass spiders.

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