Blogging Pubbitch

Our next stop from the Perhentian Islands was Penang. In order to get there, all we needed to do was hop on one of the many busses that run along the northern edge of Malaysia and we'd be there in a (rather long) jiffy. This plan was faultless except for one, tiny detail. It was the school holidays and every man, woman and child had clearly decided that travelling by bus was the way to travel. Great. Especially after a hair-raising trip back from the Perhentian Islands by a taxi driver obviously keen to get back to town in time for the Malaysian version of Neighbours.

Fortunately, we managed to find a couple of seats on a bus that had been arranged "by popular demand" We entertained vague hopes that this would be up to the standard of busses that we had come to expect in Malaysia, but not so. Instead, we were greeted by a wheezing monstrousity that had recieved some sort of last minute reprieve from the knacker's yard, as was proved when it finally gave up the ghost only 291km outside of Penang. We know this to be an exact number because we cruised to a halt by a road sign, taunting us with how far we had left to travel.

It was here that Holly and I were reminded that not all travellers are doing so in the hope of experiencing anything more of other cultures than the bare minimum, and that Britons can be the most close minded of the lot. I won't divulge much of the conversation, other than to mutter that it started like this:

Brit: Why have we stopped?

Driver: I don't speak English

Brit (becoming angry): Yes you do! You just did

And went downhill from there, descending into a farce which ended with the words "BUS WHY STOP, COMPRENDEZ?" before the tosser ambled off the bus to be ripped off by a passing taxi driver. How we laughed.

While our countryman was doing his best to sling mud at all tourists' reputations, we had a quiet chat with a lady who spoke excellent English and discovered that a bus had been sent to pick us up and take us on the final leg of our journey. For free. When it arrived, the group waiting for the bus had been whittled down a little, so had loads of legroom and a comfortable onward trip.

The best bit? We arrived in Penang as everyone travelling out of the city were emptied out of their guest house rooms --- accomodation was a doddle to find.

In a word: blissful.

We had a nice little hut, just off the beach looking out over a coral bay and blue sea. A short walk across the island and we came to the white sands of Long Beach, named, with almost australian directness, because it's quite long.

We went snorkelling with turtles, swam over coral filled with an abundance of wildlife (some of which we ate later in the evening, once it had been properly barbequeued) and relaxed. Holly, who isn't a big fan of "beach" holidays was as reticent to leave as I was, so we didn't for a few days longer than planned.

We loved it. You might too, if you can live without electricity. Or money changing facilities.

Not got long right now, but a quick bit of blurb about Malysia would probably not go amiss....

Our first stop in Malaysia was Kota Bharu, a small-ish town on the north eastern edge of peninsular Malaysia. We planned to use it as a jumping off point for the Perhentian Islands, but found that after the surprisingly long journey from Thailand that a couple of days of rest were most needed. After a nice stagger around town in the blazing heat, we decided that the Lonely Planet really should take the time to visit the place again --- their recommendations, which were claimed to be "clean" and "nice" were, in reality, vile. After a little more trudging, I found the rather nice Zak's Guest House a 10 minute walk from the main town square. We rested there.

In any case, the reason for this blog entry was that evening, as we went to the famed night market for some food. As we stood there looking like the model tourists (confused, pointing in random directions, attempting not to look confused and not to point in random directions. Wearing shorts) a Malaysian lady appeared out of nowhere and asked if we needed any help.

Obiously, we did.

She took us to one of the stalls, muttering (in flawless English) that it looked popular, asked us what sort of food we were after, talked to the Malaysian serving the food, and generally made life very easy. As we turned to thank her we had paid we found that she had slipped into the crowd and couldn't be seen. Shrugging we were about to walk away with the surprisingly large amount of food that we had aquired when she reappeared.

"How rude of me!" she said, "I forgot to help you get pudding," she said, dragging a slightly bewildered Holly behind her. The puddings she found for us were bundles of sugary goodness --- delicious!

What struck us most about the entire encounter was that she not only spoke perfect English, but that she had decided that we were two people in need of help that she was able to offer, without expecting anything in return. Throughout our time in Malaysia, we found the same sort of attitude repeated time and again, and it made travelling there a delight.