Updated: 6-2-04............................................................105c.
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June 1, 2004
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Penang Island is "Pinang" on this map...George Town is where we stayed.
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We tried to make reservations in the sleeping cars for the 24-hour train ride from Butterworth to Bangkok. No luck, they were all taken. We got the only seats available in 2nd class.
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Noreen and my trishaw. Check them out.
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Pam and Al in theirs.
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Another shot with a trishaw as we head for our hotel.
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We found a Chinese hotel with a lot of room and cheap. The four of us cost US$12.00 for the night. I had a little travel clock with an alarm that had gotten broken several days before. We had to make sure that we would be up before 6:00 am to catch the train. When we left the hotel that evening to explore the market places and get dinner, there was a Chinese Play beginning almost next door to the hotel. When we returned about midnight that evening, the play was still going on. We tried to get to sleep as a cacophony of gongs and what sounded like garbage can lids climbed to a crescendo of louder sounds causing us to laugh. No problem waking up the next morning. In the photo you can see the nearby minaret that started blasting out morning prayers through its loudspeakers at 5:00 am.
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Pam on the balcony with the nearby minaret.
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Earlier that day, we decided to visit the famous Snake Temple. The temple was built the middle 1800s in a place where thousands of poisonous pit vipers congrugated...and they still come around.
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The Snake Temple
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I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't done it.
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Noreen looks good with vipers...Al chooses to just look on.
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Another activity for that day was to go to the top of Penang Hill. The guide book described it this way: "With your life - and the lives of your fellow passengers - hanging on one steel cable, and an antiquated funicular rail car will take you up an alarmingly steep slope to Penang Hill, inch by inch at a very stately pace until you have gone the whole 2270 feet to the top. Seen from the top, the railway line up the mountain resembles a giant ski slope, and seats close to the door are always sought after." That's what we chose to do, of course.
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Not too clear, but we were up there.
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There were several temples and other religious structures at the top. Before I started on this 1978 trip, I read a 1977 National Geographic Magazine story about terrorism in Malaysia. There was a photograph of a warning sign that pictured a soldier shooting a trespasser...bullets shown going between them. I told friends that I know one thing for sure...I wasn't going to go past one of those signs.
By the entrance to the courtyard of one of the buildings at the top of Penang Hill, a ping pong game was taking place with a lot of people standing around and watching and cheering. The players were very good, standing far back and rallying like I had only seen on TV. I wandered over and through the entrance and watched the action, not really paying attention that the audience were military men, but not in full uniform...white T-shirts, etc. All attention was on the game. I wanted a photo so I took out my camera, looked through the viewer, but before I clicked it, one of the soldiers across the table started yelling at me in a language I didn't understand, of course, and pointing to the gate and yelling more.
I sort of shrugged, put my camera away as I went back out the entrance. I didn't get far when I heard a loud metallic clang. I turned around and there was one of those signs that I wasn't going to go beyond. When the gate was open, the sign wasn't readable.
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The Sign
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I just did an Internet search and found out what this structure is:
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The gate to the Governor's resthouse.
"Also there are several buildings of colonial charms. One of them is the Resthouse, which was once used by the colonial Governors, called "Bel Retiro". This is presently the Resthouse of the Governor of Penang. (This is a restricted area)." [Found at this site.]
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The reason I didn't fly from Singapore to Bangkok was that I wanted to observe the different kinds of vegetation, peoples, scenery, etc. by going straight north through so many lines of latitude by land. Alfred Russell Wallace's 14 years of expeditions to the Malay Archipelago in the mid-1850s, led him to come to some evolutionary conclusions similar to Charles Darwin's. He also praised Durian, a fruit that he said was worth a trip to the East just to taste.
The guide book said "The dreaded durian is perhaps the most famous of all tropical fruits. The 'prickly, bomb-shaped projectile is about the size of a small pinapple,' it contains a creamy, custard-like center that, while quite delicious, emits a pungent odor that can turn the stomach of all but the most iron-willed. Eating durian for the first time is an experience you will never forget." Some comparisons include bad cheese, fermented onions, rotten fish, unwashed socks and the inside of a revolting public lavatory. I figured that eating a durian would be a little test of my willpower.
When the girls and I were in Kuala Lumpur, expolring, I saw a man with a cart of durian, selling them. Here was our chance to take the taste test. This durian fruit isn't really cheap. We ended up getting one of the smaller and not so expensive kind. The man cut it for us...we smelled and tasted it. It wasn't THAT bad, nor THAT good. The girls just tasted it...and I had to end up eating the rest of it. I remember the experience better than the smell and taste.
On Pangkor Island, on the way back from the beach, there was a nice durian tree on the left side of the road with a large, beautiful, ripe durian shining on it. Al had heard of our durian tasting experience and wanted to taste one. I suggested that the tree probably belongs to someone even here in the boonies and maybe we had better ask first. We didn't take one.
When we got back to our hut, I went and talked to the ownerlady about seeing the durian tree and fruit. Before asking her if it was alright to eat one of them she said, "That durian fruit is very good...and expensive. That is our durian tree and even we can't afford to eat the fruit." Whew!
Another variety grows about 50 yards from me now. It's Durian Belanda or Soursop. I eat some about once or twice a year.
During the train trip from Penang to Bangkok, the daytime scenery didn't change...for miles and miles...it was the same. Inside the train...
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Ever try sleeping on seats like that?
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...and outside the windows, scenery the same...rice paddies, occasional water buffalo, and more rice paddies. These rice paddies weren't green and lush hills like the ones in Bali.
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Miles and miles of this on both sides of the train.
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I decided to explore the length of the train that we were riding on. I went passed the sleeping cars. There were a lot of empty beds/bunks. I found out that the beds are made up at night the people assigned were sitting in first class seats. I also found the dining car near the front.
I went back to my seat and the group (none of us had beds assigned). I told them that the little beds and mattresses were just there like that until the beds are made up by the crew later on in the day. I also told them about the dining car and bar where we could buy beer. I said that I was going to get something to eat, have a beer or two then sleep on one of those mattresses, did anyone else want to come along?
Nope...no takers. So, I went to the dining car and ordered a type of Thai shrimp creme soup. The Thai couple across the table from me were eating some and enjoying it very much. I ordered a bowl of the same and a beer. It had little shrimp with their antennae floating with some small green pepper things. The soup tasted very good, the shrimp was good, but different itself, then I tried one of those little green floating things. WOW! Was that a surprise! WATER! and another beer...quickly. I ate the rest of the soup, avoiding the greenies, but my taste sensation was already traumatized.
Another famous Malaysian fruit is the Rambutan which is like the Lychee...MMMM...mmm Good. When we had gotten to the Malaysia-Thailand border, there was customs and someone was being searched for on the train. There was some delay. There were people around selling different things. (Maybe the person search was a regular delay to help the local economy). Anyway, a lady had a bag of rambutan that she was selling. I bought the whole bag to share the fruit in our car. Some people didn't even want to try one. Later on, I had the bag with some rambutan and my water with me when I fell asleep on one of the mattresses. The scenery was still the same rice paddies. I figured that I wouldn't miss anything sleeping during the day.
The train came to a stop, waking me up. I looked out the window and there was something different to see:
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There are still dry rice paddies, but look at those nearby peaks. I had to take two photos.
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Something different to see.
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I went back to sleep until the crew came to make up the beds. Now it was approaching dark and we weren't due in Bangkok until about 7:00 am. Nothing happened to remember except trying to get comfortable on those seats. I'm glad that I got some real sleep before because upon arriving in Bangkok I was going to say my goodbyes then datch a plane to Chaing Mei. I had an active day planned.
Something took place about an hour before reaching Bangkok, that led to an idea that I pursued later in my life. I had traveled before and I was aware of the value of United States passports at that time to passport thieves. (About $1200 for one which will be used to make a forgery which could be sold for about $5000). And I was also aware that a foreigner didn't want to get caught without one in Thailand.
Back at the border after we were back on the train, uniformed armed men collected everyone's passport and shot cards. Most of the night I couldn't do more than doze off until the train jerked or turned waking me. As we were getting nearer to Bangkok, I thought about how we had not gotten our passports back after they were stamped. I talked about it a bit. Then I decided I was going to go to the dining car where I had seen some uniforms before and ask about out passports.
Near the bar were two fairly large round tables. At one were two uniformed officials and a lot of empty beer bottles. On the other table was a pile of passports of a lot of different colors. I tried to ask one of the officials about our passports. He couldn't understand what I was talking about. I got him to turn around and look at the table full of passports. He got a panicked look on his face, said something to the other official and pointed me back toward my car. We would get our passports shortly. Which we did in about a half hour. I sure didn't want to lose my passport.
Later that day, in "The Pub" and being one of the few "Europeans" in Chaing Mei, and the only one in The Pub, I saw the headline and a photo, in an English language paper, about the hurricane flooding in Chaing Mei which caused $5,000,000 damage. That was the same hurricane that we saw and experenced the effects of in Malaysia. Here is a photo from the plane that I took as we were approaching the Chaing Mei airport:
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The hurricane flooded rice paddies near Chaing Mei.
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That's all for that part of my 1978 trip.
Aloha, Art
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