The coach journey became more interesting as we neared Melaka and the guide told us about the town’s varied and colourful history. Melaka’s architecture bears witness to periods of colonial rule by the Portuguese, Dutch and British and there are customs, people and food that are unique to Melaka due to its cultural history. The town is busy, bustling and chaotic, with some tall buildings but still a strong traditional atmosphere.
I had only visited Melaka once before and couldn’t really remember it, so was interested to look around and also to enjoy the ‘small town’ feel before moving on to KL. The hotel was lovely (more about all the hotels in a later post) and the staff had time to spend chatting and making sure we knew how to avoid pickpockets (hold your bag really close and don’t walk with it next to the road or someone on a motorbike may come past and grab it – I knew this from before!).
Our enormous suite had a lovely river view and, even though we were only there for 24 hours, I spent quite some time sitting on the balcony drinking in the sounds, sights and atmosphere. The river was always busy, both with tourist boats and, at one point, several kayaks which seemed to be part of a club, with instructors shouting instructions to the rowers.
First thing the next morning, I went straight out on to the balcony. Remember my ‘new school’ feeling when I walked out of the hotel in Singapore in the morning? Well, the early morning air in Melaka reminded me of something different, but still connected with school. We used to start school at 7.30am and finish at 1pm, so would be up early. Once we moved into a house, we used to have breakfast (perhaps papaya and toast) on the terrace. The world was waking up. Our garden wasn’t enormous but there was enough room for a lot of trees including banana, avocado and lime. Plenty of habitats for birds and monkeys as well as crickets and other insects (and snakes and monitor lizards sometimes). Well, that was a noisy world to wake up! The air would already be hot, sometimes stifling, and I knew that I faced a sticky day at school that would leave me drained by lunchtime. And now, sitting on the balcony in Melaka, over 35 years later, I was transported straight back to those before-school breakfasts. For a moment, I was 15 again.
I suppose that, if you live in the country and/or culture that you grew up in, it’s possible to access that sort of memory every day. The sights, smells and sensations that you had as a teenager are largely still around you. Not so for me, that much. Just in the last few days, for example, there has been a Facebook game inviting people to find out the UK number one on their 14th birthday, saying it will be the theme tune of their life. When I was 14 I had no idea what was number one or what was in the rest of the top 40. I didn’t know what British kids wore, said, did or thought. Nothing I did during the day resembled in the slightest what a British teenager would have done, or even what I would have done living in the UK. So this Proustian transportation back to my youth was precious.
Later that morning, I followed the tourist trail round the town, making sure to visit the Fort as impressed upon me by my mother. It was hot and exhausting as there is a bit of a hill, but I felt comfortable and at home. I knew how to avoid bag snatchers and wasn’t afraid of getting lost. This was nothing like being on holiday in a foreign country. It was like looking around a town near my home that I hadn’t been to for a while.
When I lived in Malaysia, trishaws were a transport option everywhere. There were lots in KL. You could take a taxi or you could take a trishaw. Now, of course, KL is a bit metropolitan for them, but there are lots in the smaller towns still. In Melaka, they are decorated with flowers to attract tourists. They also have music playing and at night they are festooned with coloured lights. I didn’t need to take one (although there were plenty of enthusiastic invitations from the drivers) but I couldn’t resist a photo.
At lunchtime a car arrived to drive us to KL. I was sorry to leave the exciting and vibrant chaos of Melaka and the spectacular luxury of the hotel, but increasingly excited as we got closer to my old home.
