Historical Melaka

Mmm, colonial...

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We crossed from Singapore to Malaysia via the Causeway, which is basically just a big pile of rocks in the strait with a road on top.  Since we couldn't really consider ourselves "backpackers" unless we carried our packs under our own power over at least one border, we decided this was the time.  This on-foot crossing must be pretty unusual, because every single truck (or "lorry") driver gawked, catcalled, or honked at us.  I know, two sexy beasts like ourselves, what could we expect.

As we approached the Malaysian side, it became clear that Malaysia has quite a different outlook on life than Singapore.  A slower, less organized outlook.  By conscientiously following signs, we managed to get TWELVE lanes left of where we needed to cross the border.  Then we got to the front of the queue to be told that we needed the form.  Filled out.  After a little more jostling and "excuse mes" we made it out of the immigration terminal onto the streets of Johor Baru.  Overwhelmed by the smog, the cars parked EVERY direction on the street and the incessant shouts of "where you go?!  You need Teksi?" we sat down.  15 minutes later we were on our way OUT of Johor Baru headed for Melaka, which the guidebook promised was the "Portuguese Jewel of the Orient".

Susan doesn't like posing with tombstones. Michelle made her. It was "creepy".

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As further proof that nothing propagates quite like geekiness, the only other foreigner on the bus turned out to be a Dutch Mechanical Engineering student.  Weird.  We teamed up to find a pretty sweet hostel in Melaka, and found the whole place a lot less intimidating than Johor Baru.

We spent about four days exploring Melaka, the old Portuguese, then Dutch, then British, now Independently Malaysian  colony.  We made a point of going to educational spots, like the Governor's Museum, and determined after two hours that the "TYT" emblazoned all over everything is what they call the Governor.  OOOOOOOOOOOOH, we said, THAT'S the governor.  Historical scholars, we are not.  We had a good time exploring the Museum of Beauty, a neat exhibit on Cultural Beauty ideals, which also, oddly, housed the National Kite exhibit.  And a room about another national sport involving spinning tops.  It was all pretty loosely tied together.

Melaka's coastline

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The other huge draw of Melaka, for Michelle, was the mall.  After four years of living in the shadow of the World's Largest Mall, she was a little homesick for some good, old-fashioned, mall walking.  For three hours she dragged Susan from store to store, promising each time that they were almost done.  When Susan was about ready to pull a toddler-style tantrum on the floor, we stopped for McFlurries at a local (halal) McDonalds.  It was an interesting cultural study...we can now say that Malls are pretty much the same, wherever you go.

The Traveller's Lodge Hostel we found turned out to be fantastic.  A rooftop garden, interior courtyards, and very animated proprietors, we had some good times.  As another lesson in diversity, there was a kitchen, but any food brought in had to be Halal.  We didn't have a clue what that meant, except that Bacon was definitely out.  We figured that we'd just ask if food was halal or not before we bought it...boy did that open a can of worms.  We put our evening junk food purchases down on the counter of a distinctly non-muslim mini-mart and grinned as we asked "is this halal".  We were promptly sat down and treated to a politically charged tirade about how shopkeepers can refuse service to no one, halal or not, and why WOULDN'T our items be halal?  Seriously, it made that much sense to us.  We finally sat the "spiritual man" of the management team down for a rundown on what makes food Halal.  It's pretty complicated...but definitely no bacon.  Also no cat, no dog, no animal with fangs, no bees, no bugs, no drugs, no poisonous fruit or mushroom...and no animals that "eat their own sheet".  Coke and chips are definitely okay, in other words.  Yikes.

We also experienced our first "night market" in Melaka.  It was a lot like farmer's market in Alberta.  A little shopping, a little deep fried snack, a little karaoke.  All right, probably more karaoke than at home.  We enjoyed ourselves shopping for souvenirs and sampling local Chinese sweets, always being careful to check whether or not the sweets contained the dreaded red bean paste.  It was a surprise free night in that department, and a confidence-builder for us, as we didn't get lost once.

Onward to Kuala Lampur!  The Cameron Highlands!  Borneo!