Yesterday Carl and I set off early and walked to the botanic gardens (one and a half hours) through the old part of town and into the suburbs, where walled mansions are surrounded by green lawns and the streets lined with big, old trees, with brown, brittle, peeling bark. The suburbs were as immaculately manicured as the old part of town was shabby and run-down.
Leading up to the botanic gardens are a series of off-road paved walkways, covered by dense vegetation, shady and cool. A whole area is dedicated to youth, with fountains spurting out of a paddling pool, a waterfall splashing down a staircase, picnic tables and benches. The monkeys had congregated here, hopefully eyeing the picnicking families.
We got very hot walking back and then in the old town I managed to lose Carl, and then get lost. I spent hours wandering about, because I couldn't remember the name of the street where we were staying. I had brought the lonely planet with its miniscule map, but forgotten to bring a pair of glasses, so I couldn't make out the names of the roads. During my wanderings I came across a scuffy second hand market, muslim temples, Buddhist temples and rows of derelict shop houses, destined for demoliton. One shop house in the midst of all this dereliction still bravely carried on trading. The Chinese shopkeeper invited me to try umeboshi plums, spiced, sugared, salted dried mango, sugared, salted dried ginger, out of large glass jars. I bought some dried ginger. He gave me a bottle of water as a present, since all this tasting had made me thirsty. "No good government of Penang", he said, "destroying everything. You should go to Melaka. They know how to preserve old buildings there."
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