Duka Duka

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Our next stop was George town, an old colonial city with a massive mix of ethnicities, mainly Northern Indians, Chinese and Malays. Georgetown was the centre for the tin trade during the 19th century attracting thousands of immigrants escaping the tyranny of their home regimes at the time. The result was an eclectic selection of different cuisines hidden around every corner on every street. We quickly found a favourite among the locals. This being a northern Indian restautant run by a crew of Indian men. It seemed the only qualification to work there was a round stomach and a massive mullet.  We cottoned on to the fact that they were sleazy the minute we sat down as they would sit there grinning at Nic showing of there obvious lack of dental care. We chose to ignore this and focused instead on our $2 worth of  glorious dhal, Tandoori chicken and naan bread.

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Apart from the time we spent eating we visited Little India, China Town , and then made our way to Penang hill. Two trams made there way up what felt like a near vertical angle. The carraige was crammed with a second team of mulleted overweight indians. Every few minutes Nic and I would look at each other and hold our noses as a putrid smell would infiltrate the carraige, this was immediately followed by hysterical laughter and the Indian shaking of heads from side to side. The woman quietly sat there covering there children's and there own faces with a veil, obviously not amused. For the rest of the trip all i could hear was Indian rambling in the form of " duka duka duka" which im sure translated to "it was you wasnt it... No no not me".

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Finally we reached the top only to be disappointed by the poor view of the city due to the darkness. A group of teenagers did ask however if they could take a picture of Nicola which was amusing. She kindly declined by laughing at them until they walked away