NO CANOODLING PLEASE - THIS IS A HOUSE OF GOD, DON'T YOU KNOW
DOES MY DOME LOOK SHINY IN THIS?
INSERT WITTY COMMENT HERE, I'M ALL OUT OF THEM
INSIDE A CAVE TEMPLE
HONG PRACTISES HIS "VOGUE" DANCE ROUTINE, WHILST MUM DISCOVERS QUITE HOW STINKY TORTOISE SHIT CAN BE
"DO YOU LIKE MY NEW PHALLUS HEAD-DRESS?"
DAD: "TIM, WHY THE HELL DID YOU MAKE US WAKE UP EARLY IN THE MORNING, AND THEN TAKE A TRAIN TO IPOH JUST TO THEN MAKE US SIT AND WAIT FOR AGES IN A GROTTY OLD HOTEL?"
TIM: "TRUST ME, IT'S ALL PLANNED"
MUM: "HA HA, WE'VE HEARD THAT BEFORE"
TIM: "HAVE I COCKED UP YET?"
DAD: "WHAT, TODAY OR IN GENERAL???"
After our lovely trip round Perak, the last stop being Kuala Kangsar, we joined the North South highway and headed up to Penang. Somewhere along the way suddenly a mad rainstorm came ploughing down, so hard that we couldn't even see the bonnet of the Mercedes. It was a nasty storm and literally came from nowhere. I was just giving a discourse on how dangerous it is that Malaysians put their hazard warning lights on in such conditions, when we suddenly saw a bunch of hazards flashing ahead "see" said I. But then, we passed under a bridge and the rain vanished temporarily. This gave us one of the nastiest shocks of our lives (well, certainly of my life, I won't speak on the others behalf).
What we saw was simple carnage. A whole host of motorbikes had taken "refuge" under the bridge, as often happens here, and had evidently been parked in a big row having a break. We're not sure how it happened, but somebody had gone down the hard shoulder, as often happens here, no doubt trying to undertake a slower moving vehicle. Either that or he lost control. However it happened, the net result was that a car had just ploughed its way through 20 or more bike. It was total carnage. Bodies scattered, chunks of bike all over the shop, one bike wedged under a car, one body on the road that I am certain (however it all happened so fast and visibilty was not great) had no head, and a crash helmet (again, hard to tell) which I am quite certain contained the head. Either way, the body was not moving and would clearly never move again of its own volition.
Then, before we'd even had time to fully assess what we had just seen, suddenly the rain stopped and we were back in clear sunshine. We did however see a few more accidents on the way.
That's how it happens in holiday seasons here, and yet people still don't bother driving safely.
STEP ONE: TAKE A TREE, SLICE INTO SECTIONS, SLICE SECTIONS IN HALF.
STEP TWO: SCOOP OUT TREE.
STEP THREE: MAKE IT LOOK FANCY AND PREPARE YOUR HALF TONNE OF WOOD FOR STEP FOUR.
STEP FOUR: INSERT CORPSE AND BURY IN DIRT.
So, lucky for us, and thanks to Hongs good driving, we made it to Penang safely.
That night we went into town, where they were having another CNY celebration (this time for the Hokkien New Year, which falls on the 8th day of CNY, on the Jade Emperors birthday, by all accounts). This was a slight shock, for all of us, as there were about 30 million people (small exaggeration, ok, so sue me) all squeezed into the narrow streets.
One of the best and worst things about CNY is that the Chinese love (in fact are culturally obliged) to make noise at CNY. Harmonious melodic sounds are bad Feng Shui at this time, as it allows evil spirits to flourish. Thus what you have to do is this....
Oh wait, not that. That's only what you do when your son insists on you making a fool out of yourself for his own childish amusement....
No, what you do at CNY is this....
A) Set off bangers, as many as possible, preferably by throwing them at the feet of unsuspecting passers by (evidently in order to induce the spontaneous opening of bowel and bladder).
B) Smash drums and cymbals as hard as possible.
C) Crank PA systems beyond the Threshod of Pain, beyond ear bleeding, and into the brain mushing zone.
D) Sing chinese operas, in the style of a cat being raped in a mangle.
E) Shout raucusy and in a high pitched voice, in the above cat mangle style.
F) Tell crude jokes and laugh a la chat viol dans le mangle.
G) Generally be as obscenely noisy as possible.
H) Put all these activities together, on one street, and then compete to be noisier than your neighbours.
So there we were, tired and confused, being dragged around (by me) in hoping to find a bit of sanctuary amongst all the madness. Lucky for me I have my friend Salma, who has a heritage house in the midst of where all the insanity was taking place. So we went in there and had a good long rest, as they were having an Open House.
The next few days in Penang basically involved mum and dad being dragged around by me to see stuff. We went on the fernicular railway up to the top of Penang Hill (mum, brave soul, having kittens all the way up and down) and there we sat in a nice english style place and had tea and scones. Dad, in full tourist mode, wanted to go off and explore. As he went, I warned him "don't bother walking up to the mosque at the top, it's crap, the view here is just as nice, and there are loads of steps". 10 minutes later I went to find him, had a look at the lower area, no sign of dad, I saw the 50 over steps and though "nah, he won't have gone up there, not with his knee" so I looked some more, still no dad. I returned, and what do I see? Right at the top of the hill, coming down from the crappy 1980s cheap designed mosque that doesn't fit in at all? Oh. There's dad. Suffice to say, later in the day, he was bemoaning his knackered legs. I didn't want to say "I told you so" - but we all know that he simply refuses to listen to me, even when he knows I'm right. Ho hum...
So after a few days of relaxing, interspersed with me dragging them into knackeredness, we returned to KL for a night or 2.
The final leg of the Malaysian tour was supposed to be on the East Coast, but, it was the tail end of the monsoon over there, and so all the islands were closed. So, just before they came over, we had a last minute change and booked to go to Phuket.
Thus we flew to Phuket, and tried our very best to do as little as humanly possible for the week we were there. Mostly it was lying by the pool, occasionally swimming, frequently eating and drinking beer, a swim or two in the sea, sleeping, drinking and, of course, diving......
Oooooh, diving. With Dad as my buddy? Brilliant.
DADS FIRST SHARK - A BABY LEOPARD SHARK HAVING AN AFTERNOON NAP
A LIONFISH
A JELLYFISH
A BAMPYFISH
GENUS peterius doughtyonium, ORDER flattulantae
NO GEORGE, THE BUBBLES ARE COMING OUT OF HIS REGULATOR - FOR ONCE
LIKE SON, LIKE FATHER
WITH THE POWER OF NEOPRENE I BECOME "SUPERPETE"!!!!!!!!!!
"IS THIS AN OCTOPUS I SEE BEFORE ME? OH NO, WAIT, IT'S MY HAND"
IN THE POOL
POOLSIDE
So, thanks to Kims mum (Buoy) and her Bristolian hubby (Ken) we all had ourselves a properly lovely time on the beach, at In on the Beach. I never did get to take mum to a ladyboy bar, dad didn't really feel like being molested by men what don't have danglers anymore. The diving was great, Vanessa joined us for a few days (not long enough by far, but better than nothing) because she had to go to KL and have whips cracked at her in the office. I also got to eat obscene amounts of bacon, in preparation for the drought upon returning to the land of halal eateries.
Mum also got a corking bit of sunburn and attempted to purchase 30 tonnes of Thai tourist nick nacks. Dad advised her not to do so, as he only has one spine and one house, which is already full of crap - and yes, I know, most of it's mine.
Oh and lastly, we managed to track down where Santa goes on his holidays. It seems that between his Christmas excursions he transforms himself into a little inflatable version of himself, then splits himself into several copies of himself (which he must have learned from some bacteria) and then hangs himself up in a shop that sells beach toys for several months, in an attempt to set himself on fire in the intense sunshine. So there you go, you heard it here first kids, Santa is by the beach in Thailand, kicking it with the ladyboy crew.
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