Lazy Days

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It would seem I am to end this trip the same way I began it. Wet! No sooner had I arrived in Melaka than the heavens opened wide and spewed forth a deluge of water. In 10 seconds I was soaked through, no pathetic drizzling out here, when it rains, it rains! In between storms there are periods of blazing sunshine, but it so muggy here that I just never quite manage to dry out completely.

Melaka certainly offers plenty to do, it's a very pretty town chock full of grand buildings and charming shop houses. For some reason there are also an inordinate amount of museums here, I kid you not, from Nonya history, to torture through the ages, to stamps. Something for everyone as they say (although who wants to pay to see a museum on stamps?), except me, I haven't managed to see a single one. Partly due to the mounting costs and partly because I simply cannot summon the energy.

There is a forest park a few km from here that I'd quite like to visit (it has a canopy walkway that I think I'd like) but the effort of actually catching a bus there... Pht! not a chance. Am not sure if I'm merely winding down because it's nearing the end of my trip, or of it's simply my inherently lazy nature coming to the fore, but I find I have no desire to do anything other than amble round town, stopping to eat the fabulous food on offer, then retreating to the guest house to sit on the balcony with a god book (well, as good as I can find out here, my fellow travellers appear to hold a very different taste in books than I do) and watch the thunder and lightening storms as they roll by. Clearly this is not your average tourist behavior as I find my guest house owners are becoming increasingly concerned for my health. They constantly fuss and worry I am sickening for something. Mayhap I am but most likely it's just me being the lazy daisy that I naturally am.

Speaking of lazy, Melaka itself comes quite high up in the 'lazy daisy' stakes. Most places here don't open until 10 or 11 am and are shut by 4 or 5 pm. Fabulous! Suits me just fine, now when I hear the other tourists up and about at the ungodly hour of 6am (where on earth are they going, everything's shut!) I can roll over and go back to sleep with no guilt what so ever. In view of the late opening I am now down to one meal a day (plus a few snacks along the way), I do this to save money as Malaysia is quite expensive compared to the other countries I've been to, but the food here is so good it's hard to keep it up.

One of the specialities here is Cendol, a particularly odd dessert consisting of coconut water, ice shavings and pandan leaves. It should by rights be revolting, and it sort of is when you're actually eating it (especially when it's served something much like small kidney beans) but as soon as you've swallowed suddenly you decide it tastes pretty good. Very odd, but very addictive. Something else which seems to fool the taste buds after the fact is a drink called 'long long love' (yes, I know, I ordered it out of pure curiosity I assure you). It's a blend of some sort of fruit and is a delightful opaque green colour. The drink itself is rather gritty and seems to coat the mouth and throat in a layer of silt (think back to the photo of the croc at Phnom Pehn wildlife park - the green coating over everything - very much like this drink), the taste is very much like how I imagine grass would taste. Once again, whilst actually taking a drink, it's down right revolting. But as soon as you've swallowed and rid yourself of all sediment coatings your taste buds go from 'Yuk' to 'yum', lets be having more of that there delicious drink please. Yuk! Yum! Yuck! Yum!... Very confusing to the senses I can tell you. Try it and see.

I did manage to take time out of my busy schedule to do one or two things, well, OK, in truth only one thing, but it was a good thing. Reflexology is big in Malaysia and so, in the spirit of cultural relations, I took the plunge and booked myself in. It was, I am most displeased to say, surprisingly painful (although I'm assured the pain meant it was doing me good) and I squeaked and squirmed the whole way through, much to the delight of my masseuse who pulled my toes more times than she aught (I'm sure) just because she delighted in my reaction so much. Seeing I was not drifting off into a blissful haze, my masseuse chatted away quite the thing. She was astounded to learn my true age (she thought I was 25 - WOOT! - although it was rather dark in there I suppose) and from there on in every customer entering the shop had to play 'guess the age of the squirming foreigner'. Not one of them got even close, but I suspect many of them were being kind.

The young male masseuse to my left seemed particularly taken with the oddity to his right, interjecting comments now and again to put me at my ease (or make me laugh out loud). My favourites were when he advised I looked just like the Mona Lisa (eh? not even in the dark my friend) and that my face was like the sun and the moon (how romantic, although I suspect alas, he simply meant round and shiny). Still laughing at the Mona Lisa comment I found my foot torture was over and the upper body massage was to begin. I thought I knew what to expect here, for I'd seen other customers go through the same. So I obediently sat myself upon the stool and waited for the towel to be draped over my shoulders. It never came. Instead of a towel I got a cold (and I mean cold)) blob of massage cream dolloped on the back of my neck. This caused me to emit my biggest squeal yet. Honestly, I do try to be dignified but it seems I am defeated at every turn. And so began my back massage, all of it taking place under my T-shirt, the masseuse merely pulled it this way and that in order to reach the areas she wanted. A very bizarre experience and one that simply made me want to giggle. All thought of laughter fled however when she ventured to my lower back. Here she pulled the bottom of my T-shirt right up, tucked it into the neck of my T-shirt and then, after an audible gasp, she stopped dead. This caused all the other masseuses to look and they too sucked in their breath at the sight. Other customers were trying to crane their necks to see what was up. I was beginning to panic. Had I developed some horrid skin disease over the course of the day?

Squiring in my seat I craned my neck to see what was up, this seemed to break the collective trance and my masseuse laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder. 'So beautiful' she said ' So white!'. So there you have it, my skin is so white (white blue one chap in Myanmar charmingly described it) it can dazzle an entire room. Now there's a claim to fame if ever there was one. Bursting out laughing in sheer relief I attempted to admonish the staff for giving me such a fright. Don't think I was too successful as they just kept on smiling and assuring me how lucky I was to be day glo white (all you tanned lovelies at home take note - it's GOOD to be white OK).

Having exhausted the delights of Melaka (well OK, so i avoided most of them but it was exhausting work doing all that avoiding) I'm headed for Singapore for a few days (don't ask for the rationale here, I have none. Singapore is expensive, I'm running out of money, but who needs logic when you're travelling?).



NB Would seem there's something dodgy about the new disk reader I bought (after leaving my old one in Sangkha, bah!) as once again it has reformated the card and wiped it clean. Phah! who needs photo's anyway 😞

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