(published in my “Personal Journeys” column in The Star (Malaysia) in 1994
Plus a fast forward 2024 conclusion)
Its cobbled streets have never failed to enchant, its maze of alleyways continues to fascinate. Its ferries, fat and broad plying the straits is still the most memorable way to approach this very special island. Penang has been a source of many personal journeys for me. Whether as a child watching the froth and bubble of the ferry’s backwash, then later screaming at the sight of a bobbing jellyfish or, exploring Fort Cornwallis, its cannons always a youngster’s delight. And which child could forget the vipers at the Snake Temple, coiled around the branches of little potted plants. Refusing to take a photograph with a de-venomed reptile around my neck, the task was handed to my younger brother. Somewhere amidst the family snapshots is his frozen smile of fright (kudos to your courage dear little bro) captured in a picture for posterity.
In later years, as a teenager, my first (and last) hitchhiking experience was to Penang. With RM5 in my pocket I started my journey in a cargo lorry, then a car, then a final lap to Butterworth in a garbage truck. My destination was Malaysia’s own version of “Woodstock” and what an antithesis to the real thing that was: a tiny wooden stage in the middle of a football stadium. Onstage long-haired musicians in psychedelic garments belted out Hendrix, Deep Purple, Santana and Cream hits to an atrocious sound system. The stadium eerily empty except for a handful of seriously gyrating Malaysian teenagers.
In the 70’s night life in Penang was very much a live band situation. For my particular peer group, the best Malaysian band at the time was “The Grim Preachers” who happened to be performing in a crowded discotheque at a top Penang hotel. I remember not being able to get in because I could not afford the cover charge (but managed to sneak in later anyway). The next day penniless and hungry with just my ferry fare in my pocket I vowed to turn “capitalist” (we used words like that in those days). While I made my way to a future in “yuppiedom” Penang remained a hippie haven until the crackdown on nude beaches, long hair and anything that smacked of a flower child culture.
Penang retained its allure for me, as an adult. Even with the massive hotel development at Batu Ferringhi (or Portuguese Rock, after the first Europeans who landed on the island). It was fun to stroll along its activity-packed beaches, watching tourists, beach boys, para-sailors, batik painters, and once, two otters who frolicked in a stream near the Lone Pine hotel. I thought they were wild but they apparently belonged to a resident.
Like the island they grew up in, my Penang friends seemed to exude a certain laidback charm. Certainly their totally proprietorial opinions on Penang food just could not be disputed. As a Kuala Lumpur child, I had to concede to the superlative quality of the assam laksa, nasi kandar, prawn mee, cendol, kway teau. Eating in Penang came accompanied by a unique ambience. Sitting on a wooden bench of a side-street stall serving freshly cooked roti canai and sweet tea tarik was a treat gastronomically, a joy visually.
My favourite Penang hotel, the E & O (Eastern & Oriental), built in 1885 have those massive rooms and elegant tiling of the colonial era. A visiting American friend once said that staying in the hotel was a must-do tourist activity. And not just because famous guests like Somerset Maugham did the same. It was also because of the superb sea-view rooms that opened out to the Straits of Malacca.
Colonial and Moorish architecture is evident everywhere in Georgetown. Pre-war shophouses with their louvred windows and icing cake ornamentation are very much part of the timeless character of the city. One can only hope that they don’t disappear for the sake of a formica modernity.
Fast forward to 2024
So Little India still has cobbled streets and Georgetown seemed to have retained its vibrancy and character. Try the vadai at Woodlands vegetarian restaurant, then go across to Chettiar’s and try theirs. Which one is better? Well that’s the thing about food in Penang. It is very hard to find a bad meal. Drinking masala tea from a street stall, or pomegranate juiced in front of you were all lovely “why-can’t- I-get- this-anywhere-else" experiences in Penang. So I’m aiming to go back for more. Will keep yall posted!
Notquitetheend