On To Penang
We now moved essentially due east toward the Malay Peninsula portion of Malaysia. In the process we crossed between the Andaman and Nicobar Islands of India. These islands have long been inhabited by indigenous peoples who are most certainly not Indian, being more closely related to peoples of Southeastern Asia, but as the islands were controlled by the British, following control by the Danes and the Austrians at earlier times, and largely used as an isolated penal colony by the British, especially for housing political prisoners, they now constitute part of India. They remain isolated and require a special permit from the Indian government to visit. The islands suffered mightily during the 2004 tsunami, although the indigenous people did not because of long-standing oral traditions that warned of big tidal waves following earthquakes. Traditional, even strictly oral, knowledge is still often quite valuable!
The Andaman Islands are also home to the only known Paleolithic people, the Sentinelese people, who have no contact with any other people. I have read about these islands, so even though we couldn’t see them, I was still happy to at least sail through the general area, closer than I am ever otherwise likely to travel.
Our next landfall was George Town, on Penang Island, in the state of Penang in the nation of Malaysia. Malaysia, as a concept, did not exist prior to the British, who exerted varying levels of colonial control over various sultanates on the Malay Peninsula. The Peninsula is also partly controlled by Myanmar, also formerly under British control, and Thailand, who negotiated with the British regarding the absorption of some former sultanates of the Peninsula. The balance of Malaysia consists of the former Sultanates of Sabah and Sarawak on the island of Borneo. The independent nations of both Singapore and Brunei, also formerly under British control, though both surrounded by Malaysia, are not part of it. Unlike most other countries that are the product of colonial boundary making, Malaysia has been quite successful over time, increasingly emerging as an economic powerhouse in Asia, especially through the smelting and refining of ores, many of which originate in sub-Saharan Africa, petroleum extraction, and palm oil, none of which are environmentally friendly industries.
George Town, as the name implies, was named for a British monarch, George III in fact, of American history fame (a history, at least regarding George III that is highly inaccurate, at least as commonly sold to children). Today, the city is the capital of Penang State, housing some 2.5 million people, largely Chinese in ethnicity, and the colonial core of the city is a UNESCO World Heritage site.
We had a leisurely day in George Town, once we ran the gauntlet of cab drivers offering their services as we exiting the ferry and cruise ship building. The taxi drivers here were more relentlessly aggressive than anywhere we stopped in the entire cruise, worse even then those who started hitting each other in Jordan. It seemed we would never escape them! Tim and I went on walk about, rather aimlessly in some respects, but we did locate the main Post Office from which we mailed a few items, one of them to ourselves, which did eventually arrive although it certainly wasn’t quick. The postcard we sent ourselves from Albania arrived much faster. The postcard I sent was actually addressed to Tim and it featured the signature of “Jamm the Piano Man,” the piano bar personality, of Lebanese extraction via the United Kingdom, whose music Tim hugely enjoyed, and even I eventually learned to appreciate his larger than life personality, Jam’s not Tim’s of course, in small doses.
Aside from that mission, we foolishly followed the map provided by the ship as George Town was the only stop that I had not obtained better information about before departure. The maps provided by the ship are almost always either simply outdated or just grossly inaccurate, so following them, as they never feature a scale, can be foolish. We walked and walked, eventually reaching the border of the UNESCO protected core, which is obvious because across the street was a huge shopping mall, movie theater complex, and mercy of all mercies, Starbucks. Those sorts of things are generally not UNESCO protected. Cold tea didn’t translate so we ended up with iced coffee but the iced part was all that really mattered.
We moved back toward the port and while there was a great deal of trading of various sorts going on, very little of it appealed to us, although Tim did buy a toothbrush as his reminder of Penang. By the time we arrived back at the ship, we were soaked completely due to the humidity. I don’t recall that Penang or George Town made much of an impression, despite some interesting Chinese clan houses, and perhaps that was due as much to our wanting to go home as it was to any actual lack of interesting things to see and do in George Town. At this point, I am not likely to be a truly accurate reporter of attractions beyond the joys of Euharlee, Georgia, which I strongly wanted to wake up in once again!
Kuala Lumpur
Our final stop in Malaysia was the capital city, Kuala Lumpur, locally known as KL. It took a bit of a drive on a shuttle to get to KL from the port, which was the city of Port Klang, but the road was excellent. As you approach KL you can’t miss the Petronas Towers, the holders of the title tallest in the world for six years, until 2004 when Taipei 101 was completed, which itself has since been surpassed by the Burj Khalifa in Dubai in 2010. What and exactly how one measures and declares the world’s tallest building is a matter of some dispute, so I am simply repeating the declaration of the Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat (CTBUH). Others may dispute this, including, certainly, Malaysians. Petronas Towers remains, without dispute, the world’s tallest TWIN towers.
The shuttle dropped us off amidst massive shopping malls in downtown KL. I am not entirely sure why it is, but many countries around the world seem dedicated to the construction of massive retail shopping venues, but as these don’t much appeal to me, I don’t understand the attraction, and I certainly don’t understand the attraction for American tourists who can go to incredibly large shopping malls in the United States with much less time, expense, and effort. Honestly, I don’t shop at malls in general, and certainly not in stores that charge almost $1,000 USD for a neck tie, so the appeal of much of Asia is lost to me.
Tim and I elected to ride one of several forms of mass transit in KL, after first using the original mass transit method, walking. We walked first to a massive crafts cooperative where I bought all sorts of fun things, including additional containers that subdivide the stuff I carry around in my Delta Airlines Million-Miler gift briefcase from Hartmann Luggage. And, they had postcards too. We then trudged up to the Petronas Towers, which are really easy to find, even without a map, as you can almost always see them. We didn’t chose to go up in them because doing this requires tickets purchased in advance, so our odds were slim, plus I loathe heights, so what would have been the point in that I would never look out or down anyway. Instead, we found an outlet for a famous type of pottery so that I could pick up a few gifts for a few different people and we had a lunch of noodles, well, I had noodles and Tim had a type of barbequed pork in the food court.
After that, we boarded the subway train and went down to a more “traditional” neighborhood. This was decidedly not the KL of gleaming shopping malls although I have no doubt that where those malls now are used to be neighborhoods much like the one we visited. Shopping in these neighborhoods more closely resembles the Chinatown of most any major US or Canadian city; small stores, street vendors, and lots of vegetable and fruit sellers. And, not the cleanest or freshest smelling place in the world either. But, it is without question quite realistic of life for most Malaysians, again, in KL mostly ethnically Chinese.
At one time, long ago, the Chinese were actually great sea-faring explorers, similar perhaps to the Omanis, with whom they are believed to have had contact both on the Arabian Peninsula as well as on the mainland of eastern Africa. Consequently, many Chinese left China proper as traders and vendors, professions they maintain, populating much of southeastern Asia and beyond. China would contract eventually and remain isolated for centuries, but today the Chinese are once again moving about the globe as vendors and merchants, especially in Africa where many Chinese now live and work, filling the void left by the flight, or forced removal, of Indian shopkeepers and merchants. Today, in much of central and southern Africa, you are more likely to purchase your food from Chinese merchants or farmers than from anyone more remotely “local.”
Tim was eager to ride the KL monorail because he associates such means of transit with Disney World. Well, suffice it to say that the KL version is a far cry from the Disney one but it worked to return us to the shuttle location, just in time to avoid the routine afternoon downpour of the monsoon season. By the way, if you like to stay dry, don’t visit Southeast Asia during the monsoon. Whatever else you might manage to be, you won’t be dry.
Singapore
Finally, although at times I thought it would never happen, we docked the following day in Singapore, the concluding point of the cruise, and the end of the MS Ryndam as the ship was almost immediately taken possession of by P&O Cruises, in service of the Australian market. We had arranged for an independent transfer and because we were in the Neptune Suites, we could leave the ship at our leisure. We were among the first people off.
We had booked at the Singapore Hilton on Orchard Road and had upgraded to rooms on the Executive Level, so the bellman took us up to the 25th floor where we would check-in away from the hoi-polloi. We were successful in obtaining an early check-in which was a huge relief, but first we treated ourselves, as it was included with our hotel package, to the incredible buffet breakfast downstairs. Buffet breakfasts at large international hotels in Asia have to be experienced to really be appreciated or even comprehended. Breakfast means different things to different cultures, but here if you want full English, or if you want pickled vegetables, or if you want noodles or dim-sum, it is all there for the taking. Of course, we could also partake of much the same by staying upstairs and using the Executive Level Lounge, which we also would enjoy during the stay during different times of the day.
Tim and I had been to Singapore before, back in 2009 and we weren’t thrilled with it then and were not thrilled to be stuck there again, but the reality of travel with Delta left few palatable choices. While Delta flies out of Singapore every day, for Tokyo Narita only, slightly before 7:00am, that would never work with the ship arrival time, forcing at least one night’s stay because Delta only flies once daily, returning from Tokyo around midnight and thereby reducing the downtime of the Boeing 767-300 that does the run. However, we purchased COACH seats and then used one of the gifts we receive for being Diamond Medallions (sadly, 2016 is highly likely to be our last year as Diamond Medallions as we reduce travel, in no small part due to a scheduled replacement of my right hip which will force three months at home), Global Upgrade certificates that allow us to move up to Delta One, which features fully flat beds on all international long-haul flights without paying the going fare, which at the time we booked for routing from Singapore, via Tokyo Narita, to Atlanta, was between $8,000 and $10,000 USD. Instead, we paid about $1,500 USD and used those nifty certificates to move up, but those certificates are capacity controlled and not available every day. When a cruise ship with over 1,000 passengers docks, airplanes fill up, Delta no exception, and capacity for upgrades falls. In fact, we were staying in the Hilton with another couple from the cruise who were also going with Delta, via Tokyo, but because the husband wasn’t in the best of health and couldn’t handle long flights, they were headed from Singapore to Tokyo Narita with us, but then going to Honolulu, again with Delta, for a few days, and then on home to Portland, Oregon. So, in order to be able to play the certificate game, we had to cool our heels in Singapore for an additional three days.
I admit that I struggled to make the most of the time in Singapore but I was bitterly homesick and was struggling with a great deal of pain in the hip and the right arm, and I still don’t know what the source of the right arm pain happens to be. That pain level, coupled with being immediately due for my bi-monthly infusion upon return and inherently limited amounts of pain medication thanks to an over-zealous United States Drug Enforcement Administration that forces even people dying from cancer in unbearable pain to either go without help or jump through incredible administrative hoops to try to prevent someone from “getting high,” I was in less than pleasant condition. In times like that I struggle very hard to be at least somewhat pleasant but I know I am far less than perfectly successful, so for much of our stay in Singapore, Tim and I hibernated in our luxurious room, making brief forays out and about, but brief being the keyword here.
We did, one day, visit Tangs department store on the recommendation of my parents. I did find some fun and reasonably priced cufflinks, including one that I gave to my Dad as a “no occasion gift” that featured a wine bottle on one link with a wine glass full of red wine on the other. I thought it was interesting that nothing in the store had a price tag, so you had to ask. This often implies that “if you have to ask, you can’t afford it.” But, no worries about finding someone to help you, because unlike American department stores, there is a helpful salesperson every few feet and if you stop and look at anything for, say 30 seconds, they will offer to show it to you. Cufflinks, for example, they will attach to shirt cuffs to show how they will look in use. Believe me when I say that I have never had anyone in a United States store ever do that for me.
At this point, we were hungry, and as the only thing Singaporeans seem to like to do more than shop, and our location on Orchard Road is the epicenter of Singapore shopping, is eat, we had no trouble finding food. However, most all of the food in this part of Singapore is shopping mall food court fare, or sadly, American chain restaurants such as Black Angus. Tim and I wanted noodle soup, or I wanted noodles and Tim wanted broth as he won’t eat noodles, and we had seen a place advertised but couldn’t find it, not even with the help of the Singapore Tourism Board office. Instead, what we stumbled upon was Mak’s Noodle, No. 176 Orchard Road, #01-63/64 The Centrepoint, Singapore 238843 is the address if you want to find it, or send them fan mail. The place is tiny and we found it charming, and helpful, that built into each table is a drawer that contains the napkins and tiny bowls you use for sauces and such. The service was lightning fast, the noodles excellent enough that I ate both mine and Tim’s, while he drank the broth from both servings, sort of like the Jack Sprat rhyme are we. There was a clever tip jar featuring the cartoon caricature of a mobster gunman, so we couldn’t resist. It turned out that we had walked a great deal farther that we had thought, but we made it back eventually, walking amidst hordes of other people, at least half of them European/American, some visitors, and many more expatriates working in various sectors of the booming Singapore economy.
When Singapore was first booted out of the Malaysian confederation and had to go it alone, its prospects as a nation were grim. Singapore is, essentially, a small swampy island with no natural resources to speak of, except location, location, location. Positioned as it is, it finds itself in the perfect position for a trans-shipment point for the goods of Asia and it has thrived from that base ever since, building a luxury island based on its port, airport, and banking services. And a huge part of the success of Singapore has been its long-time leader, practically its Father in a very real sense, Lee Kuan Yew. In fact, the current prime minister, Lee Hsien Loong, is Lee Kuan Yew’s son.
Without question, Mr. Lee is not without controversy, but within Singapore he is almost universally revered as the person most single-handedly responsible for the lives of wealth and privilege enjoyed by many Singaporeans. Yes, it is absolutely true that Singapore does not enjoy all the same “freedoms” that Americans do, perhaps most infamously, and to my mind the most silly, being the prohibition against chewing gum. This features prominently on the “no-no” posters at Customs inspection points, right up there with guns and drugs. Of course, they don’t threaten to kill you for the gum, but they clearly do for the drug part.
Many observers who are far more qualified than myself have concluded that Lee functioned as a benevolent despot in acting in the best interests of Singapore as a whole even if some individuals didn’t always have the same level of individual freedoms and choices regarding expression that some Western societies and cultures view as paramount. But, before we judge this style of governance, I think it critical to consider both the results, which have been economically outstanding, including not only a high standard of living but also excellent education, healthcare, and housing, but also the cultural background. Many Asian societies and cultures place harmony of the group not only far above the happiness of the individual, but in many respects, the individual, separate from the family or large society, really just doesn’t exist as a concept or consideration. And, decisions are most always made by the elders, especially the elder males, and everyone falls in line with those decisions that are made in the interests of the group (family, clan, country). Everyone individually has a role to play and while that role may not be what the individual considers ideal it is, nonetheless, the way. As Westerners, we can be horrified by this and consider it terribly oppressive, and perhaps for an outsider not raised to believe this way, it might be. But equally outrageous for a person raised in this tradition and culture is the disrespect shown to elders, especially in our treatment of the elderly and our aging parents, as well as allowing individual freedoms that in many cases damage the structure of the society as a whole. Depending on your perspective, both paths can be “correct” and I think it hugely disrespectful and arrogant of Americans to assume, and to attempt to force with guns and bombs, that our way of living and structuring a society is the best way. For all that is good about American life, there is arguably a good deal that is less than ideal, including our rates of violence, poverty, unequal outcomes in the judiciary, government deadlock, partisanship, and more. That doesn’t mean that I am advocating wholesale conversion to the Asian, or Singaporean, way, far from it. But just as in the same way that we wish for our way to be respected by other cultures and peoples, so too must we, I think, earn that respect by respecting the rights of others to choose a different path, paths that work for other people in other places with other cultural imperatives. And, looking at the disaster that is currently American politics, perhaps most horrifyingly exemplified by the poll numbers of Donald Trump, a circus side-show freak now advocating the suspension of the constitutional guarantee of freedom of religion for Muslim people, or Ben Carson, who while claiming in some ways to be a man of medical science, at the same time denies vaccination, evolution, and considers health care provision to be worse than the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, I have to wonder how much worse it can get. If those voices represent the best and brightest of an entire American political party, only one of two to choose from, then I am quickly concluding that perhaps a reasonable and rational person, despot though they might be, who could put the interests of the entire country first might not be a bad deal. It’s all just something to consider before we throw stones, metaphorical or real.
Our last day in Singapore proved to be an unexpected delight. We were able to talk to the National Orchid Garden, which is located in the Singapore Botanic Garden. Orchids are far and away my favorite flower and also one of the few houseplants I can reliably keep alive, with four of them growing right now. I am certainly not an orchid expert but I know what I enjoy seeing, and on rare occasions smelling, as most orchids have no scent at all. I know enough to know that there had to be a large greenhouse in which the orchids were grown and stored until they were blooming, about once per year for most of them, to keep such amazing displays reliably full of blooms. Later in the walk, we would spy the greenhouse and outdoor growing yards in the distance. Singapore creates and names orchid hybrids for celebrities and world leaders who visit, so while you are there you might see an orchid variety named for Princess Kate of the United Kingdom, an emir of Kuwait, or a Prime Minister of Canada. It was a stunning display; amazing enough to help me overcome being drenched and rather cold due to committing the ultimate in idiot moves, leaving the hotel during the monsoon season with no umbrella.
Homeward Bound
Finally, the day came and we were on the way to the airport at shortly before 4 AM to make a 6:50 AM flight to Tokyo Narita. Our driver was the same delightful man who had taken us from the ship to the hotel originally and he explained a great deal to us about how some of the basics of Singaporean life worked, including car and apartment purchasing. Perhaps not surprisingly, both are heavily controlled by the government, but in ways that are fair, lessen congestion, don’t overly reward the super-wealthy, and ultimately consider the overall needs of the majority. It was complicated, and at first hearing to American-trained ears, Orwellian, but when you really thought about it, especially if you have ever had to fight to have a decent place to live in a major American city, or have ever spent hours on urban roadways going nowhere, it started to make a degree of sense.
In seemingly short order, we were onboard our Delta Boeing 767-300. I had zero interest in breakfast, having eaten one last round of dim-sum in the airport lounge, so I laid myself down to sleep for most of the seven hour flight. As usual, Tokyo Narita was a blur consisting primarily of a few hours in the SkyClub before the four of us parted ways, with Mom and Dad headed to LAX on their Delta Boeing 777 about 10 minutes before our identical aircraft departed non-stop to Atlanta, some 12 hours away. I like the bed on the Delta One 777 almost as much as the one on the 747, so I had the express meal option of all four courses served at one time, although I did have to wait for my beef tenderloin to heat up a bit before they could serve it, and I really didn’t care to wait for desert, so while Tim was still eating I laid back down, and didn’t wake up even once until we were less than an hour from landing in Atlanta. I had time to eat a pre-arrival meal and change back into street clothes from my airplane pajamas of t-shirt and shorts, commando style for ultimate comfort no less, and buckle up for landing.
Arrival is always pretty easy for us with Global Entry, although that doesn’t make your baggage arrive any faster on the Customs belt. But, unlike on returning from Norway, it all arrived and you can bet that all of our luggage contains identifying information just about anywhere we can apply it having learned that lesson once. And, unlike we did at the Singapore Cruise Centre, we picked up all five pieces of checked baggage BEFORE we left. Through the oddity of the International Date Line, we left Tokyo Narita at about 5:30 PM on Tuesday 3 November and arrived in Atlanta about 3 hours before we left, landing at approximately 2:30 PM on the same day. We spent those 3 “extra” hours of life getting out of the airport and driving home through some of the worst traffic of the day, but once we got home, who could care. I don’t know for sure if we have ever been so happy to get home before or not; suffice it to say that I almost kissed the hardwood floors but instead settled for lying down and letting two very excited little dogs climb all over me.
We saw a lot and I thought a great many deep, and a great many more shallow, thoughts through the process such that I can’t possibly regret the investment of time and cash. But not regretting something doesn’t mean that I have to repeat an experience in order to value it. Tim and I agree completely that the days of long voyages are behind us and we won’t consider trips that take us away for more than two weeks any longer. We find that two weeks is enough time to enjoy a trip, and sometimes, honestly, even shorter time frames are just as sweet, without incurring the ache of homesickness. And besides, we now have plans afoot for building a completely new home, a house that reflects our unique priorities and interests from the basement up, and the enduring value and privilege of such a home will take priority over giving tens of thousands of dollars a year to Delta Airlines, Holland America Cruise Lines, Hilton Hotels, and others who help provide us with incredible travel experiences. We have been, and will continue to be, incredibly fortunate and privileged people, even if we never leave home again, and staying home more is not the same as never going anywhere again. Being more selective and more realistic still allows for a great many adventures. And now that the laundry is done, many doctor appointments are concluded, four teeth have been replaced, and the dogs are our friends again, we are still happy to be home for at least another three weeks before we see the inside of an airplane again.
Perhaps the single most important thing that I can realize from it all is that I am truly one of the world’s most fortunate people to be able to say that I love being home, with the one person I love more than anywhere, anything, or anyone else in the world, my four-legged babies, my backyard birds, and my own bed and my own sofa. Not too long ago, upon coming home from the painful hospital stay of August, I realized in a flash of insight that everything in the world I most love and most need fits in the space of one king sized bed. And while I enjoy the world, I wouldn’t trade what will be in that same bed tonight for anything else that wide world might hold.