The way of the Malays

Friendly locals

As first impressions go, Malaysia offers a mixed bag. Barely 48 hours into our Malay time and two very bouncy late night bus rides later, we've made our way up the East coast of Malaysia (Peninsular Malaysia, as opposed to Malaysian Borneo) via Melaka to Paulu Penang.

Melaka, a strangely small big town (some 648 500 inhabitants, yet it feels like Catford), at first, made no sense. Upon arrival, neither of us understood the reasons as to why tens of thousands of visitors allegedly flock here every year, to an utterly charmless, drab little town. But, as the locals told us, historically it was once a great trading port and as such grew increasingly important. Also, having been ruled by the Dutch, Portuguese, English etc it has had many influences and is thus dear to many hearts.

Alas, the next morning, after exploring the old town center on foot, we understood the attraction a little better. Antique shops, bohemian coffee bars and quaint oriental postcard-worthy streets are everywhere and smirking doods with ornamented bike taxis patiently show foreigners around.


Funky bike dood

Our super friendly hostel manager, Lee, kindly lent us money, since the good old muppets at BNTB hadn't done their job of unlocking our bank cards... Later, upon seeing a travel sketch book, he asked Sami for a drawing on the kitchen wall.


Lee and Sami, in the hostel kitchen in Melaka

Still, after all that, we were glad to leave Melaka, taking the overnight luxury bus to Penang. A trademark crazy-violent Asian action movie kept us awake until the Melatonin kicked in.

Georgetown, the town on Penang, evidently peaked many years ago, too. But still lots of interesting travellers choose to stop by. Over breakfast we met a super cool New Yorker who, when not travelling, teaches abused NY teenagers self respect through the unconventional means of yoga, poetry and, eventually, Thai massage. Way to go, lady. Good on ya.


Straight of Penang, as seen from the harbour light house

As a whole, Malaysia has been, from what we've seen so far, a beautiful, smelly and enigmatic melting pot. Buddhists, Catholics, Muslims and Hindus mix together to make for a vibrant, if odd, place. Layers of worn off paints make such colourful mosaics on house walls that it's easy to forget that the building is about to collapse.

Opposing religions seem to be strangely tolerant of each other and shops offer products in several languages. Tamils are everywhere and the limited phrases we learnt in Sri Lanka have gone a long way. Wide open storm drains are everywhere (Singaporians would have a stroke if they saw the state of these pavements), and architecture is promiscuous to say the least. Most picturesque of all, wrinkly old pensioners sit off in the shade under verandas and graciously wave hello.

Our next stop, for which we'll leave early tomorrow morning, will be the popular Island(s) of Langkawi, where we hope to see some sharks, waterfalls and perhaps even rent us a pair of scooters. After some well deserved R&R we'll eventually venture across the border into Thailand.