The flight to Penang down
the Malay Peninsular was very comfortable and quick, just over one hour but
when I arrived, partly on account of the weather, I hit a real “low”. No one to
greet me but I wasn’t expecting that, so I followed my usual drill and headed
for an ATM to withdraw some cash but naturally it came out is denominations far
too large for the bus into town so I had a tea and Kit-Kat but the tea was
truly awful which didn’t help my mood. It was raining by the time I caught the
bus into Georgetown but, instead of the idyllic island I was expecting it was
yet another town with too much traffic. The journey was about 40 minutes and as
I was dropped off at the bus station, I naively hoped that I would find Mansion
One fairly quickly but, in fact, it was a 20 minute taxi ride. You may
remember, (if you’re paying attention!) I said how I sometimes misjudge the
size of a city and not only had I done that, I hadn’t drawn a map in my book.
Google Maps came later when I had an internet connection but, on arrival in a
new country, I don’t have that of course. I had to ask a smart hotel nearby for
help and they looked it up and hailed a taxi. I walked elegantly down the steps
as though I had been staying there.
The drive seemed to go on
for ever and the traffic was dense… and it was still raining. We found the
apartments partly on account of it being next to a large private hospital
called Glenrothes. I went into reception but the name didn’t seem to bear any
resemblance to the place I had booked (through Booking.com). They had no idea
who Arida was, the guy who had acknowledged my booking or what Apartment One
was. I turned out that the reception people knew who Arida was but didn’t want
to let on because they had wanted to have his apartment on their books and, in
fact, they were hinting that perhaps I would like to rent one of their
apartments instead. They let me use their wifi and I then saw an email from the
guy asking to meet me outside Starbucks which shared the reception area. And
very soon a very large Indian guy appeared with his wife outside the reception
area of the (competing!) company and explained that the flat was theirs – I
hadn’t realised that it was a private flat but in his defence, it was his business
to let out property and he carried a small wifi credit card reader.
I was annoyed, this was
more like Airbnb and I don’t like the idea of staying in private flats. Anyway,
it was a large white soulless place; money but no taste. I wanted to quit, maybe
go back to the other company but that would not have been a very tactful move
so I decided to stay and he drove me to a local shopping mall where I could buy
a SIM to get online and also some food for breakfast. Still raining. By the
way, when I said he was large, I was being polite. He was so fat that he had to
put his driving seat into recline in order to fit inside the car and he drove
in this semi-reclining position. I’m sure it can’t be much fun being fat but
for some people I guess there is a choice. I really don’t want to sound smug. I
am lucky, I can shovel anything into my mouth and I never gain weight but for
some people, that is fatal. Literally sometimes.
Instead of walking back to
the apartment – I would have got wet - I took a taxi back down-town and had a
welcome beer and some chicken meal or other – can’t remember exactly what it
was but I think it involved rice. And then with my new-found knowledge about
the location of the apartment, I took a taxi back “home”. Am I overplaying the
fact that it was raining?
I had a chance to look
more closely at the apartment. I often see this, money lavished on a property
without thinking about the finer points. For example, most split
air-conditioning systems have the chiller outside well away from the room it is
cooling because that is the part that makes the noise. In this case, the
chiller was bolted onto the wall directly behind the bedroom wall and it made a
deep vibrating sound all night. But the following nights, I switched off the
aircon and the room was not too hot. Another example, no draining board around
the sink, just a (what I call) Formica type surface which looked suspiciously
vulnerable to staining.
At that point I went to
bed and fell asleep hoping that it wouldn’t be raining next day. Are you sure
I’m not making a big thing about the rain? I’d been hoping to hear from my
friend Jennifer but I sent her an email saying that I was feeling “human” now
that I had wifi. I mentioned the weather.
Next morning, Friday,
dawned fine (I’m sure you’re relieved about that!) and, because Jennifer was at
work, I set about thinking up what to do for the day. She suggested Penang
Hill, so that’s where I went! And we planned to meet that evening at one of her
regular Meetup groups and then we could spend time together during the weekend.
Penang Hill is about 10km
out of town and I just took a regular bus which was very cheap. There’s a cable
railway, I think some people call it funicular but that is something different
– a train crawls up a mountain by engaging a toothed wheel in matching teeth in
the track. This comprises two cars which counter-balance each other because
they are connected by a single cable. In this case, the track takes many turns
and the pulleys which guide the cable are angled on the corners, otherwise it
would jump out. It does alarm me slightly but I guess someone has done their
homework. But even on a straight track, there has to be a crossing point in the
middle which involves a curve in the track.
At the top of the hill are
wonderful views across to the mainland. Before I came here I didn’t even
realise it was an island but the city and outlying residential areas are huge.
There are walk-ways, hiking trails, a few shops and a wonderful food area with
loads of small kitchens serving up mainly Asian food at low prices. Drinks were
sold on the lower floor. Alcohol doesn’t really enter into normal life in any
of my Asian destinations, it’s available of course but not immediately
obviously. At Penang Hill, all drinks were soft drinks.
I imagine the same
location transposed to the UK and there would probably be one rather expensive
and tacky fast-food outlet. This was quite enchanting.
On the Saturday, we went
to Monkey Beach, an idyllic tropical beach. But to get there involved a trek through
jungle close to the sea, with monkeys mocking us as we clambered over rocks
ill-prepared. One of our number was wearing flip-flops! Haha, not me.
