No Dinner Invite?

Some temple jewellery

So the right honorable governor of Penang forgot to invite us to dinner. No big deal, only slightly put off. After gazing at his not so humble abode in admiration, the inhabitant thereof wheeled past in a slightly less than presedential motorcade, offering a simple wave. I wanted a dinner invitation, it was not to be.



The Penang Team



Rewind a few days and a few hours and Penang is slowly crawling into view on a night bus from the islands. The Scotsman aforementioned has been enlisted as a temporary member of team Canada, and will prove a rigorous ally in the near future. Upon arrival a neon city leaps up seemingly in the middle of the sea, framed into reality by a few large mounds of earth cloaked in darkness behind it. Seemingly every skyscraper is lit, and the second largest city in Malaysia slowly dawns on our bus. The bus driver gleans a few extra Ringgit by ferrying a trio of travelers to Chinatown, where accomodation is most likely to be found at 5:30 AM. End up in some guesthouse reminiscient of an elongated tropical fruit with a vaguely penicyllin like taste. Banana house sounds right.

Snooze a bit upon wake up the following day and commit to a wander, in search of "penang food", alledgedly some of the best in the entire country. Greeted with largely the same old fare. Ubiquitous in southeast asia are restaurants somehow managing to serve not only indigineous cuisine but also a hodge-podge of western style dishes, mostly pastas, sandwiches, steaks, and the worst attempts at English breakfasts. Happily Penang has a decent variety of cuisine that isn't catering directly to bloated foreigners who seem to have misplaced their interest in other cultures. Little India is a bit of a jewel, directly connected to chinatown and boasting authentic tandoori food done directly before your eyes, as well as dozens of different sorts of curries and lassis to keep your palate kicking. Pick well, some places  just leave their curries out all day in metal trays and microwave to order. When it's good, it's very good, but you need to make sure to give a miss to anywhere without obvious effort.

Chinatown itself has a pretty great hawker's market directly outside the backpacker's area. Sweaty, trash-filled streets alive with stray dogs accomodate everything from fruit stands to random noodle vendors hurling piles of hot oil around. The added bonus on our second evening on revelry is the addition of the lovely and ebullient S.Z. to our mix of chaos. She is a personal favorite of mine from as far back as high school and has been scooting around Asia with a sort of enthusiasm enjoyable to any traveler. A couple drinks and a quick catch-up later, bed calls and the parties at work retire to seperate quarters for a little shut-eye. The following day's wander yeilds a new guesthouse, this time with a four bed room, and quite horrendously comfortable quarters. Almost in the vein of a boutique hotel, yet it's two blocks from the main drag stripping it of any right to charge prices worthy of it's interior. Twenty Ringgit(totals about 6 CDN) gets luxe dorm bed facilities, free breakfast and wireless internet, including a computer, and showers that make it feel like warm summer rain it falling. Uncertain about he usefulness of adding jacuzzi jets in the shower walls, but enjoy the prospect nonetheless.

Penang kind of degenerates into a blur of eating and walking, so mush walking. These activities are punctuated with a trip up Penang hill, sort of the epitome of local tourist attractions and a beautiful viewpoint to see a unique city. A cable reluctantly drags a sort of futuristic cockpit up a steep track, stopping to let off some mountain dwelling locals. At it's apex it breathes out it's passengers onto a hilltop walkabout, where the reality of Penang is drawn into focus. On the way there we get free fried banana from an enthusiastic hawker. The island is really mostly hill, with the city clinging to the flatlands around it's edges, hoping not to slip into the sea. Proximity to the mainland explains the cheap price of the ferry over(like 17 cents).

A final day hurrying around and haggling bus fares before departing from dear S.Z. and moving to the mainland to power through a night buses worth of travel to bangkok. The trains are full, and though buses are cheaper, they promise much less sleep, a promise well kept. Scotsman is now earning the status of "temporary Canadian".