Sorry for the Group Email

Penang was the first island the British colonised when they arrived in Malaysia. The colonisation of the country is evident everywhere you look. European architecture is everywhere, although most of it is picturesquely crumbling. Corruptions of English spelling are spread far and wide. A college is a “Kolej”, a central station a “sentral stesen.” In Georgetown, the largest town on the island, you can order a Curry kapitan from the Indian restaurants, because when a British officer asked what he was eating the answer came, “Curry, Capitan.”

We stayed in Georgetown, and mostly, we ate. Thai food is nice, but frequently over-greased and under-spiced to keep tourists happy. Malaysia’s three main ethnic groups are the Malays, the Chinese and the Indians. Of these, I would argue, the Indians had by far the best restaurants, and we stuffed ourselves every day.

Also, we walked. After four days praying that our tent would survive the night in Ko Taratao, it was nice to be somewhere with places to eat and shelter on every street. We reacquainted ourselves with the concept of a mall, and took ourselves for a trip to the beach at Batu Ferringhi.

But mostly, we ate. We ate at restaurants (if you find yourself there, drop in to Kapitan Curry and have tikka masala and a milk shake), and at street-vendors. The concept of getting good street-food is alien to Europeans. Yet in Georgetown, for the price of a newspaper, you can have a box full of fresh, hot curry, plus rice and chicken. Every bus and train station has a restaurant selling top-notch food. The best food I’ve ever had in a British station had the golden arches on the side.

We stayed in Georgetown for a few days, and added the Eastern Orient to our list of Nice Hotels To Stay At When We Have Jobs Again. It joined the list because, like the Metropole in Hanoi, its kindly staff let us in for a poke around and a cup of tea despite us being dressed like Millets refugees.

From Penang, we took the free ferry to Butterworth, and hopped on the seven-hour bus to the Cameron Highlands. The Cameron Highlands were popular with the chattering colonial classes because, unlike the rest of Malaysia, it’s cool. The temperature rarely climbs above 20 degrees, and arriving there from the heat of the rest of Asia was like stepping into a giant air-conditioned room. We stayed in Tanah Rata, and for the first time since we arrived in Bangkok our room had neither air conditioning nor a fan. Instead, our room was a partitioned space in a metal bunker at Father’s Guesthouse. It was cool and relaxed, and we spent a few days wandering about. The thing about the Cameron Highlands is that you can grow nearly anything there, and we spent a pleasant day wandering around strawberry farms and apiaries. We drank freshly-harvested tea and made a genuine find at the rose farm west of the town, where we were shown around by the genial head gardener and given a flower that smelled like nothing so much as coconut ice-cream.

From Tanah Rata, we climbed on yet another minibus. Our things were stowed in the back, and we headed to the world’s oldest in Taman Negara.

Dave suggests you try a hike in the Cameron Highlands. After the rest of Asia, you can effectively walk forever. Also, try the rest of the Malaysian pictures in the Flickr set.