Old in Georgetown

After our pilgrimage to Singapore Sue, Rosemary and I flew off to Penang for a few days, where we had booked two rooms on a "Clan Jetty" on the edge of Georgetown.

The place took us about half an hour to track down, but was for me perfect - a secluded spot on the edge of the busy city looking out over the straits between Penang island and the mainland.  Georgetown is my kind of place - run down, noisy, cosmopolitan and full of amazing places to eat, from cheap and crowded hawker centres to upmarket restaurants so the price of a good meal can range from a couple of pounds to twenty quid or more.

Just about everyone has been through Georgetown in the last few hundred years, including the Portugese, the British and the Chinese and they have all left their mark on its culture and cuisine.  It is home to the fascinating sino-european fusion that is the Straits Chinese community and was one of the main departure points for muslims undertaking the Haj.  Maybe Georgetown is where the unfortunate pilgrims in Conrad's novel "Lord Jim" embarked on the "Patna" for its voyage across the Indian Ocean.  Today it has thriving Chinese and Indian communities and the narrow streets are dotted with mosques, churches and Hindu and Buddhist temples.

Before I go mad on the travelogue however, we didn't have quite such a good time as I'd hoped for.  Sue and I did not have fun in Bali and we arrived in Georgetown stressed and tired.  On top of this both of us found the walking hard on our hips and knees and for the first time, lying in bed at night with my left hip and knee throbbing, I really began to feel my age.  Because the walking was hard going at times the sights of Georgetown seemed peculiarly elusive as I walked ahead of Sue and Rosemary anxiously searching for the next point of interest or the next likely restaurant and hoping it was not too much further for our aching legs to carry us.

But then journeys are a metaphor for life and this one is closer to its end than its beginning.