As TP had managed to pick up a minor chest infection (not serious but causing a lot of coughing and restricting his breathing a bit), it didn’t seem such a good idea to go through with our plan to dive on the East coast of Malaysia . We therefore charted a bit of a route down the western side where we were already located in Georgetown. Visiting KL did not particularly appeal as it is a very modern city and we are already going to have to spend a short while in Singapore before flying on to Brisbane. Ipoh (pronounced EE-poh) came into the frame as a suitable stop with a few attractions to explore and options as to where to go next.

We set off from Georgetown by way of the ferry which links the island of Penang to the mainland city of Butterworth (these names are so colonial!). We had originally come onto the island byu the road bridge which is several kilometers long and means quite a detour to get to the bus station which is right next to the ferry jetty. We knew that we could catch a bus straight through to Ipoh but had no clear details.

Having arrived at the bus station, we were immediately absorbed into the whirling madness which is common in bus stations throughout the world (and is probably the same in UK but we can understand some of the signs back home) . The universally found ‘helpful’ man indicated a nearby ticket counter where we were rushed into buying tickets for a bus which they implied was leaving instantaneously. We were given the platform number and the numbers from the bus registration plate (most are in the form ABC 1234) and told to hurry . We dashed down the platforms and were told to put our bags into the luggage hold and get on the bus. At this point the rush and bustle disappeared and it was clear that this bus was not going to leave for some while. Gradually more people got on board and occasionally a rather fierce woman got on and ordered people to change seats to accommodate the new people she was bringing on. Finally we were about full and the man who had put us on the bus came round to take tickets. When he got to us he paused and scrutinised the tickets carefully, ‘only one bus to Ipoh’ he told us and gestured that we needed to get off. We didn’t follow that at first and sat still but he graphically indicated that we needed to get off, which we did, making sure we collected our luggage . He gave us back our ticket and we pointed out the bus number written on the back. He explained that it was another bus with the same registration number (but different letters) and that this bus will be from the same platform but in 15 minutes. In reality, the original bus was still at its platform when our bus arrived at the adjacent platform and sure enough it did have exactly the same numerals. In the meantime we had watched several other buses leave the station clearly indicating Ipoh as their destination, so much for ’you want to go right now?’

The rest of the journey was uneventful and we arrived in the early afternoon at our hotel , which is in the new part of the town. We took a walk around the local area which was very quiet due to it being Sunday afternoon and made our way over the river to the old town. here there are many old colonial buildings, particularly around a playing field area called the Padang. Here you can see the half timbered Royal Ipoh Club, still just as exclusive as ever, the Indian mosque, the FMS (Federated Malay Sates) bar and restaurant that claims to have been going since 1906 (but was closed when we were there) . Also in this area are several administrative buildings from the Empire era including courthouse and the railway station (described locally as the little Taj). In reality it is nothing like the Taj Mahal but is a nice Victorian/Moorish building with wide open veranda areas and actually operates as a hotel. We had read several horrific stories about it (rats running across beds etc) so had not tried to stay there. However, we met a well-travelled Aussie who showed us his room which was clean and adequately furnished, opening straight onto the long gallery looking right over the surrounding park and town. This view has not changed substantially since Edwardian times and we realised that we had chosen the wrong hotel but would have to live with it - too late to change now! As well as these major buildings, Ipoh has a lot of the shophouses that we saw in Georgetown and these are in varying condition. Some of the earlier ones in the old town are in a very poor state but the later ones just in the new town seem to be faring better .

Our excursion around the town was interrupted by the customary sudden torrential storm. At this point we realised that we had both put our umbrellas in our backpacks for the journey and therefore did not have them now. We therefore dived into a park where we could see local families dashing for cover under a large sala. We don’t know the Malay words but some of the Mums were getting a bit fed up with their children running out to play on the metal climbing frames while thunder and lightning crashed around in the sky above. As so often (but not always) happens, the storm was short lived and we made our way back to our hotel after taking in a local night garden (a bit like Jen’s favourite Red Garden in Georgetown but with less sophistication. Clearly a local place we became the centre of attention for a while until the usual things to shout at each other came back into play and we were left to get on with our drinks (except for the Heineken beer girl who kept topping up our glasses of Tiger and trying to tempt us to buy some of her beer.)