Gurney drive

A fun, if slightly exhausting two days in Penang. Two things stand out. First, the food is excellent and generally much cheaper than Thailand; which was something of a shock. Our multi-roti breakfasts for example, with curry sauce and cups of tea, cost about 35 baht each. Secondly, the people were very friendly and extra-helpful. English is widely spoken, so Malaysians have less worry than the Thais about starting up a conversation. Whenever we appeared lost, there would be someone at our side offering to give us directions. People in restaurants would provide advice on food; the hotel staff were desperate to help in any way they could.

Best of all was an encounter I had at a bus stop. I was standing behind the stop in the shade when I was approached by an interesting character. He was dressed like an Islamic scholar, he seemed a little shy and awkward and his English was not so good; but he was determined to communicate.

“You, bus?” he enquired
“Yes, I am waiting for the bus.”
“Cannot.”

This was not enough information. Cannot stand here? Cannot get a bus even though I am next to a bus stop. Cannot expect a bus to come this week? I looked nonplussed.

“Cannot”, he said again, and gestured towards the five ringgit note in my hand.

I maintained my nonplussed expression and suspected I may be in the company of a deranged man.

He then rummaged around in his pockets and extracted five one ringgit notes and held them out to me. Finally I understood; the bus driver would not accept five ringgit notes and this man was determined to ensure I was adequately equipped with change.

I took his notes, gave him my single note and thanked him. He smiled and shuffled off down the street. In how many countries would that happen?

Thanks Malaysia, we had a very good time.

One of the more interesting places to visit in Penang is the Pinang Peranakan Mansion. About 100 baht equivalent gives you free reign to a two storey mansion stuffed with artefacts. I particularly liked the windows of stained glass:

The predominant colour of the window glass was red, and there were shafts of red light falling over the floors and furniture:

Best of all, there was an old sewing machine getting the red ray treatment…..

…..and casting what I thought were interesting shadows on the floor. Depending on the exposure, I could get a slightly flared look or a dull red on the floor. At the time I was convinced that these would look great as big prints; now I am convinced they may better suit the delete button; but might as well share them first given that I spent some time sitting on a dusty floor taking them whilst being stared at by bemused Japanese tourists.

Fuji X100, ISO 1600; no noise reduction.

I lived for seven years in Malaysia and developed an addiction for the food. A multi-ethnic country may lead to political and social problems; but it does wonders for the choice of food and I was completely besotted with Chinese char kway teow, Malay desserts, and Indian roti canai. The latter was a particular favourite and every Saturday I would pop down to the local roti shop for a couple of roti canai and a bowl of chicken curry. The absence of this dish in Thailand has been a constant source of heartache, so any chance to indulge is always welcome.

The Son and his girlfriend made a trip to Penang as part of their recent Asian tour. Five minutes after checking into his hotel, he sent me a mail to inform me that there was a roti restaurant right over the road. Oh, and the hotel was very good too.

Driven more by the former fact than the latter, I therefore booked a trip for a couple of days, emphasising to she who must be obeyed that it was all about soaking in the culture and not about eating roti.

The hotel was indeed most pleasant. Only opened a few months ago, it is the result of an extensive refurbishment of a block of old Chinese shophouses.

The rooms are what the guides would call “tastefully furnished” and the bathrooms have both a jacuzzi and a shower with jets that are permanently set to “stun”. Best of all, the hotel is situated right next to a roti shop the World Heritage designated part of Georgetown.

Unfortunately, the room rate included breakfast; so the first morning we felt obliged to partake. But the next two mornings it was over the road for roti canai, curry sauce and a mug of teh tarik (or cha chak as the Thais call it).

I then did my Oliver Twist impression and asked for some more. Then I did it again. Much to the surprise of the shop owner, I wolfed down three roti canai each morning as an excellent start to the day. Unconnected to this consumption, I also appear to have gained some weight in the last couple of days.

There wasn’t just the roti of course. There was a banana-leaf vegetarian meal, cendol, cendol with ice cream, gula melaka ice cream, ayam laksa, and more than one plate of char kway teow. Perhaps most charmingly, there was lunch in a tea house, where sun shone through the open courtyard inside the house and everything was served with a measured calm and stern instructions on how to prepare and serve the tea.

The man in the white top is keeping an eye on me to ensure I serve the tea properly. Doesn’t he realise I am British?

Some eateries were stumbled across by chance; but our main guide was Beyond Sustenance, a site maintained by The Son’s better half and extensively updated during the tour around Asia. We were also pointed in various directions by Michael, the barman at the hotel.

Michael, like most Malaysians, has an obsessive interest in food and mixed recommendations of places to visit with recommendations of which food to eat when we were there. He borrowed our map and wrote little messages, like “eat laksa here” against various landmarks. A grandson of one of Penang’s pioneers, he has had an interesting life and regaled us with stories every evening whilst knocking out the best of cocktails. I can only fault him for the promised “no kick” gin and tonic he made for me as a gift from him on the second evening. As I attempted to stand and leave the bar, he admitted it was actually made with four shots of gin. As a result, I didn’t enjoy my last morning in Penang; even after (especially after?) three rotis.

And what of the culture? Yes, there was that too; but that’s another post.