The Biggleses Do Malaysia... well, at least Penang

After trekking through mosquito-infested jungles with a caravan of oil-skinned porters (no, not wearing Drizabones, dummy), we thankfully arrived at a fresh-water spring exotically named Hotel Mingood. We removed our pith-helmets with a dramatic flourish, ordered the sedan-chairs be lowered, and cast our weary gaze accross the rugged landscape of Penang Island. So this was the notorious remote outpost of the Great British Opium Empire! After a cooling Singapore Sling with obligatory maraschino cherry, we determined to climb the towering concrete phallus in the distance to get a better perspective:

We could spy upon the natives in their 19th century shop-houses (quaintly called 'shoplots' by locals). Oddly, they actually live above their shops, which they claim saves money on rent, rickshaw-fares, etc. Cute, eh wot, ol' chum?

With our brass telescope, we could spy accross to the Malaysian mainland. The natives still operate a ferry, but there's a real bridge now too. The Empire's getting rather sophisticated, eh, pip pip?

Shops everywhere... in fact, it felt strangely like visiting Australia. Billabong, Bodyshop, Borders Bookshop... and a version of English is widely spoken in Penang, a fact which I find a little unchallenging and unexotic. I do love the experience of speaking a tonal language like Thai. Malay, though, would have to be the easiest possible language to learn.

Apart from languages, there are subtle cultural differences in styles, priorities, and aesthetics. Check out these exotically-displayed cooking pots next to fashion mannequins:

Locally layered cakes, tropical tailors, and even Chinese specialists in curing Piles. To see photos of the Penang wet markets and various real .local foods, I can do no better than to direct you towards this website by a couple of resident expat 'foodies'.

The natives like to eat communally. The food all seems to come from a place called India, so it all tastes the vaguely uniform.

The obligatory area called 'Little India" specializes in very loud DVD shops and bustling roti joints. There are more Deities per square kilometre than parking meters. (Yes it's true - there are parking meters!). We bumped into an unlikely looking deity named "Jesus", whose cardboard-cutout portrait outside this shop makes him look as though he's just been seriously goosed:

After pigging out on Butter Nan, Nasi Lemak, and Tandoori Cat, it was time for we neo-Colonial explorers to take our feet up to the cooling heights of the local hill-station, Pinang Hill, overlooking Georgetown. There's a funicular cable railway up the steep slope to the top, hauled, we assume, by teams of naked slaves imported from various other countries conquered by the Empire (sound fx: God Save Queen Camilla):

At David Brown's oh-so-stylish English Teahouse-with-a-view, the cool air reminded us of Ye Olde Mother Country [sniff]. So we ordered a Devonshire curry, followed by chocolate mousse with halved strawberry and brandied orange, and watched the monkeys in the trees watching us. Cautiously. The most effective discouraging tactic is to hold up 2 fingers in a V. The beasties think it's a slingshot and they're off in a chattering flurry of green. They know the rules.

Houses dotted around the hills reminded me of life in Singapore during the 'fifties:

Georgetown was named after King George IV and established by Francis Light in 1786 on behalf of the British East India Company. Light is said to have loaded silver dollars into cannon and fired them into the jungle to encourage workers to clear scrub. Penang Hill was soon entirely cleared and planted with (wait for it...) strawberries, so for years was known as Strawberry Hill [that's why they still serve strawberries at the Tea-rooms].
Light's son William established Adelaide, one of Georgetown's sister cities.

Penang's rather hazy, maybe due to industries in the adjacent mainland town of Butterworth, combined with high humidity. Smoke from Indonesian forest fires gets up this way at this time of year too.

Various religions were competing for the highest spot on the hill, but of course the mosque got the most prestigious patch. The Hindu bunch, however, provided the most colourful extravaganza as usual...

...and as our punishment for not putting a donation in the box, a monsoon deluge rumbled over the island. No locals wear a mack, or even know what one is - can you believe that? How would they ever cope back home in London, old bean?

This cheeky young monkey had the nerve to seek shelter from the rain. He became the observer of we in the human zoo:

Then it was back down the hill into the town where life proceeds at a leisurely pace:

The Old Town is full of 19th century Chinese shop-houses, some of which have been restored...

...and some which haven't:


...and some are still being restored. It's possible under the "Malaysia My Second Home" scheme to retire here at about the same initial investment as Thailand, but there are crucial differences which the Thais should note. Firstly, after 12 months, a large portion of invested money may be withdrawn and used (for approved purposes) within Malaysia, and secondly, it's possible to own property outright and/or run a business. The Malaysian government has farmed out its 'Second Home' scheme to registered agents in the private sector, such as this one in Penang. Some foreigners are beginning to buy and restore the old shop-houses, like the one below, bearing in mind the usual caveats of position, rising damp, termite problems, etc. Capital Gains Tax is quite reasonable. These shop-houses don't appear significantly different from Sydney terrace houses. Many rise to three storeys, but with me old ankle playing up, I ain't so sure...

Former colonial Go-Downs ('setor' = store) near the port are still used to store market goods:
...and there are plenty of Chinese Buddhist temples. Penang is famed as a Chinese heritage area, and there are still knife and stick battles between rival gangs dating back to the "Kongsi" or tribal clans in the tradition of the Triads. Otherwise known as "Mafia" to foreigners [ferringhi].

This next one was the temple dedicated to and built for the Carpenter's Guild:

Mosques everywhere, of course...

And Love Lane, with its array of lazily lounging prostitutes, surprisingly open in their soliciting. Tall, slender, wearing slinky shiny silk cheongsams, high heels, big hair, pink lipstick, and droopy black handlebar moustaches with 5-o'clock shadow.

Down near the port and Fort Cornwallis are impressive 19th century British colonial buildings. Bleached skeletons of beached colonial whales:

...and the old Fire-Stesen:

...and some structures which were clear imitations of earlier Dutch architecture. The Dutch were here first, but got thumped by the greedy Brits who wanted the lot for themselves.

So many places in Penang to see. We bought some 'setem' for our postcards at Malaysia Pos. The only swimming beach is Batu Ferringhi (=Foreigner Beach) which is narrow, none too clean, and utterly ruined by the usual jetskis, horse rides, rows of umbrellas, and annoying touts. But by way of karmic compensation, we then stumbled upon Charlene and the Chocolate Factory - actually the "Chocolate Boutique" (in Malay: "Coclat Butik") and got free samples of 847645 types of coclats. Lime chocolate, tiramasu chocolate almonds, durian chocolate, bitter coclat-coated coffee beans... quite deluxious and dangerously zitful. Sipped a lemon soda at the Slippery Senoritas bar (yes - we are still talking about Malaysia).

Watched a Malaysian movie with subtitles on the teev. Islamic propaganda is written into Malay films and soap operas quite openly. It was about a woman who was wrongly imprisoned for heroin trafficking and sentenced to be hanged after two appeals. (Of course she was found innocent at the last minute). She shared a cell with two other women who had "forgotten" how to read the Quran, but the "good" woman persuaded them back to the righteous path, so that the one who remained imprisoned after the other two were released was able to cope because of her "faith". (This one had killed her husband because he forced her into prostitution daily...she claimed she was "sorry" she had done this after her reading of the Quran, yet what choice did she have? Certainly no alternative was ever presented, suggesting that she should have accepted the husband's behaviour).

Another soapie had an episode about a young woman who looked very gothic, and had abducted a child to be used as a sacrifice by "devil worshippers". The young woman was wearing a short skirt, tight jeans, black nail polish and lipstick. She had tattooos. A good religious woman in a veil managed to get this girl to "confess" and so saved the child. In shopping centres we saw quite a few Malay gothic girls with tattoos and dyed black hair, lots of jewellery, so it seems to be a strong reaction against the religious oppression that is gaining strength in Malaysia. There is a counter-balancing pressure, though, as a high percentage of the population are Hindu, Buddhist, or Christian, and I'm sure would resist the unilateral introduction of Muslim Sharia Law.

Then back south to Kuala Lumpur by 'bas' via Ipoh. 'Tikets' are cheap. Ipoh is another area we should check out as it's close to the Cameron Highlands which I dimly recall from my under-spent youth. KL is as modern a city as any I've seen, but I wouldn't care to live there: it's just not Asia as we know it. Here's a shot of its monorail loop:

And so we waved fond farewell to Koala Lumpur and its iconic Petronas Twin Towers, the world's tallest building until Dubai came along with even more oil money than Petronas. We think that Koala Lumpur has more than the bear essentials for a fine blockbuster movie setting: