And until you figure how these strings vibrate in the delicateness, that’ll be your cup, of tea Darlings …
There is still, a presence in Pulau Pinang despite areas of it being enclosed and labelled like rarer trees unchastened by neither life, nor death by those who built the illusory, of cities and of histories the Caucasians find difficulty of letting go, in a very marchioness haven of the very un–élitist secularists, and through Unesco Heritage is being revived for lovers of things dead, and forgotten.
O how life, the seemingly quotidian simple can be made into an intricate and bankable drama — histories of civilisations reprogrammed, reprocessed, reincarnate–d. It seems empyreal to keep these gullibles into their cocoons revelling in ephemeralness even if its a mere millennia, or two.
Penang is prettier and much cleaner than all the major cities of the peninsula. Malaysia, that is. At least there I feel comfy, and not the least foreign.
In 8D, the lady beside me in her Bermudas, and very colourful Hawaiian–like printed blouse perked.
“Are you a Penangnite?” she asked breaking the ice.
I was adjusting my infinity derrière in the most uncomfortable airline seat. I hate flying in minuscule aeroplanes. There are studies researched about conspicuous Asians, albeit these travel not discreetly in guises. Next time I’ll fly business and maybe the chats will be ever more enticing and fingers can linger everywhere else.
“Erm ..,” I can’t seem to get the friggin’ belt to click in. I think I’ve overgrown these or they’ve shortened everything to fit size minus one. I know the sièges have.
“ … perhaps Portuguese? You have a very unusual name” Grace insisted. Grace manages a travel agency in Sabah, and was invited for a cruise on one of those boat-like floaters to Krabi and Phuket. She looked excited. It was her first. I didn’t tell her that after forty-eight hours she might want to walk the plank.
I did ask her what she’d like me to be. Our taxi rides in town have cabbies guessing where I came from, Brunei, Singapore, England but most definitely not Malaysia. Why? I could pass off for everything except perhaps Black.
Darling I’m not being racist — I’m chocolate!
Our hotel transfer to Georgetown was a smooth ride.
Charlie was courteous, and drove the limousine gliding through traffic as if a terpsichorean. He filled us in about the weather, the latest happenings – where to go, what to do and where to shop till you resurrect divalicious. He was very knowledgeable of everything Penang from the history through the most recent real-estate gems on the island.
I had hoped to visit at least two. One, a heritage property in Georgetown going for about five, the other nothing less than fifteen. The Foundation needs a Secretariat office, and Penang seems to be the next best international gateway, besides Kuala Lumpur in South East Asia. It’s so much closer to … civilisation.
It would be therapy alright … gemütlich!
Malaysian real estate agents at least those who label themselves professionals must consider buyers seriously. I’ll return to Penang, and contact the developer aforehand, instead of booking any visitations through these débutants. Unfortunately after years of mellowing like
maple syrup honey, I still cannot overlook mediocrity.
One doesn’t get to the gold by being incompetent!
For crying out loud, at least speak some comprehensible English! This is Malaysia after all, not some gawd–forsaken archipelago in the South China seas.
Chief Minister Mr Lim or at least his cabinet should consider implementing a compulsory act for all building owners or management to maintain their eyesores and perhaps, domino the effect throughout the nation where non-completed white elephants are either torn down or auctioned off; re-painted in heavy industrial paints in subtle pastel shades, or whitewashed every five years or thereabouts; and drains and roads drained of rubbish dumps and implementing hefty fines, in the urbane–polis or elsewhere less complexed.
Interior Architects should seriously consider benches or holistic chairs in super malls the likes of the most recent Paragon at Gurney Drive, or First Avenue at Jalan Magazine for Senior Citizens or tired shoppers; and taxi and trishaw stands where it is convenient for patrons, and not just for the overall design concept.
Shouldn’t we have trams in Penang considering these were paved in the eighteen hundreds where modernisation met history?
Historical 1932 Video of Penang — Michael Rogge
“We have a motel of about two hundred fifty beds in KK. Any thing you want, from domestic to international flights I can give you the very best price” she said, without blinking.
“Do we get foreign tourists besides these Ben Laden lookalikes in August?” I queried.
“Not many, just the Arabs, the Koreans and Japanese … they are the wealthier middle class”
“Kuala Lumpur International airport is empty in Summer. I don’t see many foreign airlines”
“O they don’t land here,” she smiled.
“Hmm, if they don’t then .., 2014 will be another PR blunder huh?”
Grace smiled knowingly as we disembarked.
Penang Taxi Service +6012 4699723 / +6012 5755705 / +6012 5001674