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Published: December 16th 2008
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Welcome to Melaka
Yet another UNESCO World Heritage Site Ross:
Our bus trip to Melaka on the west coast of Malaysia took approximately 5 hours with a quick stop at some services for chicken noodles. We'd decided to stick to the west coast due to the monsoon on the east, but didn't really know anything at all about Melaka itself. We arrived at Melaka Sentral bus station at around 11pm where one of the local Malaysians who'd been on our bus offered us a lift to our guesthouse in his parents car. When we arrived in the town centre it was still fairly busy due to the night market on Jonker Street and the fact that it was a bank holiday weekend. The traffic was heavy and our friendly locals didn't actually know where to drop us, so after a couple of circuits of the town we politely asked to be let out nearby and made the rest of the short journey on foot.
Melaka is a quaint town with a very high percentage of red buildings, apparently a legacy of the early Dutch occupation. At night, most of the streets are lit up with red lanterns making the place look a bit like Amsterdam's red light district,
Jalan Tukang Emas
aka Goldsmith Street, our home for three nights but very pretty nonetheless. After checking in to our cosy double room at 'Jalan-Jalan' on Jalan Tukang Emas in Chinatown, we ventured out to get some cash and a beverage. By this time it was past midnight and the ATMs were no longer dispensing but a lively bar on one of the corners let us buy a jug of Bali Lai with our flexible friend and provided us with some cashback. We were both relieved to be in a much more laid back location compared to the dizzy heights of Singapore.
The following morning, after making use of the basic shared bathroom facilities, we ventured out for a late breakfast, followed by a stroll around 'Little India', along the river to the town square, and on towards the docks. There was a replica tall ship near the waterfront, which unbeknownst to us formed part of the maritime museum. We made short work of hopping the fence at the back and had a wander on the galleon and through the rest of the museum, only realising that we should've paid on our way out through the main entrance.
A bit further around the corner, we wandered past the tourist
information office (which, much to my relief had a western toilet instead of the ubiquitous drop hole!) and through a busy little Asian food hall. By this time the clouds were starting to look fairly menacing so we dived into a nearby air-conditioned shopping mall for some relief from the heat, humidity and fast-approaching thunderstorm. Although the monsoon was meant to be localised on the east coast we were still exposed to a fair amount of wet weather. The local papers were running stories about serious landslides in some of the mountainous regions to the north, with the general consensus being that this year's monsoon was somewhat more intense and far-reaching than in previous years.
After moseying about in the mall for a while, and spending a good half an hour on a state of the art massage chair, we decided to make a dash for it. Unfortunately, due to a lack of cover we got well and truly soaked on the way back.
That evening, after the storm had passed, we took a walk down a very crowded Jonker Street to see the night market, full of fake sunglasses, watches, trainers and souvenirs of all shapes and
The Orangutan House
A gallery and shop full of the masterpieces of Charles Cham sizes. Whilst taking a breather outside one of the cafe bars Polly had a bit of a funny turn when she noticed a man sat at a table some distance away who looked uncannily like her dad, Roger. We tried to get a good picture through the crowds but our attempts were in vain.
That night the storms started again and were fairly relentless until mid-morning the next day. That, coupled with a very lumpy mattress meant we didn't sleep so well. After another hearty breakfast we headed to a fish spa we'd noticed the previous night. For a tenner each we spent about an hour and a half with our feet dangling in an oversized aquarium full of small (and not-so-small) fish that nibble away the dead skin from your feet and lower legs. This was followed by an hour of intense reflexology after which we both walked away feeling like we were floating on air. We wandered back down 'Temple Street' past elaborate Buddhist, Hindu and Islamic temples, bought some pineapple tarts from the pineapple tart shop and spent a good couple of hours being educated about, and sipping endless amounts of tea in an authentic Chinese
The town square
Note the red buildings tea house before returning to our hostel.
A number of people had recommended that we try a local speciality dish served at a few restaurants in Melaka, so that evening we headed out to find one particular establishment called Capital Satay. Upon arrival a queue had formed with some twenty or so people waiting for tables. The restaurant looked like a grubby open-fronted cafe with bright fluorescent lighting and big round steel tables with holes in the middle, but the place was full of locals so we were feeling reassured. We waited it out and at the last minute were joined in the queue by another couple of English travellers, Renee and Ben. The restaurant's concept revolves around selecting various skewers of raw meats, tofu, vegetables, prawns and some other indistinguishable items from a counter before returning to your table where a waitress has placed a large vat of bubbling satay-style mixture in the hole, kept hot by a gas burner below. Much like a fondu, you place the skewers in the satay for long enough to cook them before devouring them. Your bill is calculated by the number of used skewers and empty cans on the table at
The fountain...
...in the town square the end. The trick is not to pick too much to begin with as you can always go back and get some more, otherwise you end up paying for uneaten food. The meal was truly delicious and a wonderful experience although after your fifteenth skewer the novelty does tend to wear off a bit. In total, it cost us about a fiver each.
After saying our farewells to Renee and Ben over a jug of beer, we turned in for our last night in Melaka, before our bus journey to Kuala Lumpur the following day.
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