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Monday, Sep 13, 2010 - 16:30 SGT
Posted By: Gilbert

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Melaka Days


10 September 2010



The hoped-for train journey became a bus ride, and the destination switched from Penang to Malacca, but the out-of-nowhere trip, kindly organized by law, was still on. Other participants: sel, alvin, colin. Point of departure: Golden Mile Complex [1] by Lavender MRT, only to be ferried all the way back west to the Second Link, in a demonstration of how several millennia of transportation has developed a system where one still can spend time and effort for next to no net displacement, at least to my grumpy 7 a.m. brain.

The ride itself was uneventful other than the dual observations that being seated at the back, where the seats are higher, magnifies the effects of any bumps, and that Malaysian roads appear to... have more character than boringly flat Singaporean ones. Can't say the same for the scenery, an unending cascade of green interspersed with the occasional town. As before, there was a rest stop at Yong Peng, where most of us got a Ramly-type burger [2], and alvin sampled a mostly-bony chicken part.

We were eventually set loose by the Hotel Equatorial in Malacca proper, though that was priced a bit out of our range; With the help of law's trusty copy of Lonely Planet's guide to KL, Melaka and Penang, we navigated our way to our lodgings at the Samudra Inn [3], where the proprietor was as friendly as the book promised (and we found a Chong watching TV).

I would spend much time over the next couple of days browsing that tome, and learnt stuff such as the fact that that the Malayan Emergency was classified as such, despite being a bona fide civil war, for insurance purposes (alright, this is also mentioned in the second sentence on its Wikipedia article, but I don't remember reading about this in my history textbooks). The book does have its endearing innocent gaffes too, like when it referred to our Minister Mentor as the "ruler of Singapore", a lesson not to take everything at face value.


Who's a pretty boy, then? Huh huh?


We soon checked into Rooms 2 and 7, and after registering our details and me having Somu's (the owner's) pet bird perch on my finger by request, we went about the first order of business, which was to settle our trip back home in two days.


This is tricky (photo credit: law)


It was then that we encountered another of the idiosyncrasies of Malacca, after hypothesizing earlier on that the town was sponsored by Mamee, so ubiquitous was the brand's logo. Somu informed us that the bus-stop into Melaka Sentral was one of the plant pots lining the road-side after taking a right turn, and we struggled mightily to locate the right one. Happily, the bus driver wasn't too particular, and for a flat rate of RM1 we were ferried [4] to the bus terminal, where we were fortunate to grab the last few seats on what appeared to be the only remaining service to JB two days hence.

Next, we trudged about Malacca's Chinatown, with the crowds and lack of sidewalks making it an exercise in sharing space with traffic. There was no lack of streetside stalls selling edibles and trinkets, including a life lesson on the comparative value of cuttlefish snacks. The standout was Malacca's answer to gelato - a novelty ice-cream-in-egg-holder [5], with suggestions on how to reuse the holder. How could anyone resist that? Indeed, few could, and the sellers did a roaring trade, with one couple even asking us where it could be bought. The paucity of garbage bins was less admirable, though the streets were cleaner than I would have expected with the prevailing laissez-faire approach to waste disposal.

After biding our time and a further short wait, we got admitted to Nancy's Kitchen [6], a Peranakan restaurant, for dinner - Malacca's supposedly the centre of the culture (made all the more famous by The Little Nyonya). I found the fare alright, but then I'm not much of a foodie. colin, who was probably the most accustomed to the offerings seeing as his father is a bona-fide Baba, described the candlenut [7] as an acquired taste, and I've to say I have not quite gotten it.

Before that, we wandered about and encountered the Blue Dolphin Internet Cafe (~RM2.50/hour) [8], where we stopped for a welcome air-conditioned L4D2 session after not managing to get SC2 running. Seeing counterterrorists still dashing about shipping containers in cs_assault brought back memories of yesteryear.


I want my Mamee... (photo credit: law)


We returned to Jonker Walk in the middle of Chinatown at about 5:30 p.m., and stopped for chendol by a large stage set up in the middle of the street (see what I meant by Mameetown?) Unfortunately, the performers were all on the elderly side, though their vocals weren't half bad. They were also pretty cooperative, with some of them taking turns to serve as each others' backup dancers.

Passing by the San Shu Gong building at the head of Jonker Street, we were assailed by loudspeakers extolling the "renowned superpower index finger" of Dr. Ho Eng Hui in three languages, and stopped to take a look. Others had the same idea as the good doctor prepared his area with lengths of yellow plastic chain, and soon a good-sized crowd had gathered, drawn by promises of coconut stabbing.

There was a lot of banter before the main event, however, as Dr. Ho demonstrated his ability to crack a whip, swing nunchucks and send playing cards flying several stories high, in between teasing poor foreign "volunteers" and betting his head on them knowing who Bruce Lee was - which, despite the undeniable international fame of the one and only Dragon, makes it nothing short of incredible that Dr. Ho is still walking about with a noggin given his decades-long tenure.


You wanna see my finger? (photo credit: law)


He also managed to sell oodles of his miracle lotion at RM10 a bottle despite that being "not the point of his performance", but eventually he got around to having the poor Norwegian guy he drafted into helping pick out a coconut from the four he had brought, and passing it (the coconut, not the Norge) about for inspection. Finally, with the support of his two disciples, it was time for the big one. After tightening his pants and looking extremely serious, he raised his finger... and drove it into the coconut [9] several times, before leaving it inside and using his other hand as a hammer for good measure (Youtube).

Well, what can I say? I will admit to wincing slightly at the performance - a coconut is hard, as anyone who has tried to open it to get a drink can attest to. The obvious pain aside, getting the technique to do the stunt sets Dr. Ho apart from peddlers who, say, simply cut themselves to demonstrate the efficacy of their product. On the other hand, poking through coconuts doesn't seem quite that impressive on second thought, but I would advise one not to say that to his face, at least before confirming that one's skull is indeed thicker than the common coconut.

After spilling the guts of his nutty victim out on the road, Dr. Ho took a breather and liberally rubbed down his clearly-once-broken finger with the lotion, before proudly giving the finger to the crowd (one of the perks of the job, I would say). We cut and run after he spent twenty minutes on tutoring an Argentine ("Ah, Maradona!") on how to throw a coconut to him, and thus missed out on any firebreathing (so says the guidebook) he might have done. However, judging from his popularity (and brisk lotion sales), it's not hard to see why he hasn't yet hung up his finger.

Next stop was the Dataran Pahlawan Melaka Megamall, a huge shopping centre, where we stocked up on toiletries and a 5.5L container of water, passed up on buying authentic football jerseys for about RM40, were treated to a confounding coin paddle magic trick (it turns out that it might simply be a variation on the fake flip illusion), and considered staying for a movie at the Golden Screen Cinema. Resident Evil didn't prove to be a big enough draw, though, and we soon made for the hostel, passing by what probably were attractively-dressed KTV hostesses en route. Tired, I passed up the bak kut teh supper.


11 September 2010



Historical Malacca isn't exactly a very large place, and we were rightly confident of covering the main sights in an afternoon. The idea of riding about on bikes was raised, but Somu advised against it as we would be liable if they were stolen, and the idea was dropped.

We breakfasted at the Ichiban restaurant [1], famous for its chicken rice balls, not too far from the hostel. It turned out that they were approximately the size of the fishballs back home, i.e. not too filling given that we ate just three per person. sel soon discovered that the balls were already generously sized when he ordered noodles at our next stop, which sadly did not offer Elvis Presley's Banana Peanut Butter Sandwich as touted [2].

Coming across an A&W outlet in the mall, we couldn't resist having root beer floats, after which colin chose to appreciate Malacca in a more stationary fashion while the rest of us went traipsing about the centre of the old town. Clambered up St. Paul's Hill to visit St. Paul's Church, and its statue of St. Francis Xavier, who evidently had given one helping hand too many [3], perhaps in splitting coconuts? Nice breeze tho.


What did I say about Mamee? (photo credit: law)


Next up was Christ Church Melaka and the Stadhuys [4], ostensibly painted red by the sensible Brits after they took over from the Dutch, to save on maintaining its previously white (and easily-dirtied) facade. Nowadays, the place is a trishaw depot of sorts [5], with the riders boasting an eclectic mix of theme songs, ranging from Lady Gaga to Eminem to Numa Numa. The local kids' playground [6] also got a visit.

Chilled out at the tourist information office for awhile, before returning to walking the crowded streets. Found one of the three The Orangutan House outlets [7], featuring T-shirt designs by a local artist. Despite it being alvin's idea, I ended up as the only one who bought a shirt (RM30), which would be my only keepsake bar the egg holders.

One of us did discover the forbidden joys of Pop Pops [8], those pinches of powder packed in bits of paper that could be thrown at the floor to produce a loud sound, and were fairly sought-after by kids each Chinese New Year as a very watered-down version of the traditional firecrackers, until the government got wind of the fun and banned them too.

We spent an hour back at the Blue Dolphin, before seeking out the acclaimed Restoran Capitol Satay. Its reputation was such that, despite only officially opening at 5 p.m., there was already a queue stretching down the street by four-thirty [9]. We were fortunate to be relatively near the front, and managed to cover the perhaps twenty metres to the head of the queue in about an hour and a half, keeping ourselves sustained with law-sponsored pineapple tarts in the meantime.


A show-me-the-bunny moment at the pet shop across the road


It's hard not to be bursting with anticipation after the wait, and I soon realised that their satay was not the satay that I was used to. The staff set a pot of satay sauce down in the middle of the specially-made table to start things off, and we could pick out any of a selection of skewered food - the cheese hot-dogs deserve a special mention - to dip in the mix.

The staff were nice enough to bring around special bonuses in the form of huge prawns and other delicacies, all priced at a flat RM0.80 a stick; I polished off 22 by the end. Looking at the mostly-empty establishments next door, and the steadily-lengthening queue, I felt it a pity that the restaurant did not have any of the "sisters, brothers or branches" that they so vigorously denied having.


Anything left? (photo credit: law)


We were done a while after seven, and did some shopping at San Shu Gong (tasty coffee samples), giving the wonderful Dr. Ho a miss this time. We then found ourselves at the Bamboo Hut Bistro at the Aldy Hotel by eight, where the Everton vs. United match was being screened. Rooney had been dropped, a relief given his recent performances, and doubly so as those performances could now be explained by his distress at having his extramarital dalliances exposed, rather than any permanent loss in class.


Not too concerned... yet (photo credit: law)


The service was top notch, with staff even placing an electric fan for our benefit, and made my RM12 iced cappuccino with vanilla totally worthwhile. I was even mellow enough not to get too worked up when Howard pulled off a couple of ridiculous saves and Everton struck first thanks to an equally ridiculous missed bicycle kick clearance by Evra. The cosmic order was restored when United obligingly took advantage of some horrible defending to make it 3-1.

Yes, Everton levelled it all up in the dying minutes, which meant that United threw away two points for the second away match running, but them's the breaks.

It was then marathon Monopoly Deal time back at the hostel, as I discovered that the complementary wifi extended to our room as well, allowing me to keep track of the later matches on Soccernet and supply some background music. I also learnt painfully that having loads of dosh doesn't count for much in Monopoly Deal after the opening stages.


12 September 2010

Bye bye, Malacca. We got on the bus back to Sentral at the designated plant-pot-bus-stop, and availed ourselves of a hearty McDonald's breakfast. The S&S International Express bus rumbled into Platform 23 at ten as advertised, and I was pleased to discover that the seats were larger on the RM19 ride back as compared to the S$38 ride to Malacca.

There would be no rest stop, which suited me just fine, and we arrived at Larkin by one-plus, where noodles and more Monopoly Deal happened. Got on SBS No. 170 to Kranji MRT (with a couple of breaks), where I was aghast to discover no newsagent. The End.



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