Goodbye Redang Island breeze...hello shopping town of Kuala Terengganu

Words of the Day: Berapa? Duapuloh lima ringgit? Ah, mahal, lah. Lapanbelas, can? (How much? 25 ringgit? Ah, expensive. 18, can?)

  

So, sadly we left Redang. Life was just too mellow and sweet there. Oh, get over it, Alison. We need to see more of Malaysia. A change is as good as a rest, as they say.

This is a postcard that Jordan made that Ali and I were both sad to actually see posted; so we photographed it as a keepsake. There is a logic puzzle (of course) on the back, related to the pictures.

KT is about half an hour south of Merang. I drive us there this time. (Ah, interesting thought here: left hand, not ok; left side of the road, ok.) We get to KT, drive around quite a bit, getting lost, and finally find the Sumai Apartment Hotel, where Ali’s sister Za’eemah is waiting for us. She has taken the overnight bus, and arrived there at 6am Friday morning. I park the van underground (wish I had taken a picture of how tiny parking spots are and how difficult it is to manoeuvre what seems like a massive van in a lego-sized lot) and we unload our bags in the lovely hotel room. We head out for a quick bit to eat, and then head to the Pasar Payang (market) to check out batik, clothing and food. Although there are a few sections and stall open, alas, it is Friday – the weekend – in KT, and most places are closed. (No replacement reading glasses for Ali yet). We get some batik and walk around, but then head back to the hotel after a couple of hours. We all agree on fish for dinner, so Za’eemah takes us to a delicious fish restaurant called Tenang, where you pick out your fresh fish and they either barbecue it, deepfry it or simmer it in broth. I suggest she choose some fish for us, so she chooses a local small fish (I think what we had on Redang) and some squid, and get it barbecued. The boys go for shrimp and noodles and chicken and noodles, and Jordan opts to try a scorching hot chilli that is in his noodles. (His choice.) Holy heat, Batman – but hats off to him for trying it. Za’eemah sweetly removes all the chillies and puts them on her plate, and also shells all Taz’s shrimp for him. Hannah has fish with the rest of us. We go back to the hotel and hang out, do some journal writing yet again and I upload the backlog of bloggery written while on Redang. We have tea. It’s all quite civil, really. And of course we all crash. Early.


Tenang Seafood Restaurant in KT



Selection of fish to choose from (squid on the right, not sure what fish was on the left)



Where the fish is bbqed, fried or steamed

All of us waiting for our dinner...

No Harrison to wake us up. No, the amplified call to prayer projected across the city from the mosque slightly too close to the hotel will do quite nicely. At 5am. I debate doing yoga out on the cement balcony treating it as a chant, but decide against it. I should have gone for it, in hind sight. Never mind. I get up instead and get on the computer, in the dark. Jordan wakes up an hour later – it’s still dark – and asks why I am not going to bed...too funny, as he thinks it is the night before. The hotel breakfast is delicious: all sorts of rice, noodles, fish, on-the-spot omelettes, fruit, you name it. All really well done. We sneak extra toast and kaya (coconut jam) back to the room for snacks later, if need be. Then we head out to, the Pasar Payang.

Hannah decides she is the new poster girl for Milo ice cream

Pasar Payang: Take II: Saturday. The place is open and swimming with shoppers. We all love it. Jordan says to me, “Shopping in Malaysia is so fun, Mama...I really don’t like shopping at home – it’s boring – but here it’s so different and so neat.” I couldn’t agree more. This is an indoor – but wall-less – market with two floors, tiny hallways and tiny shopping areas. Not sure what you would compare it to. A squished parking garage of sorts? Maybe the Byward Market Mall, but stores much much smaller and aisles for walking super tiny? Actually, maybe more like the Vorlage Christmas Fair. But again, much more chock-a-block. And every third or fourth ‘shop’ is another batik sarong shop and, I swear, if you think if you have seen one sarong pattern you have seen them all, think again. It is incredible just how many colour and pattern combinations there are. A bit like snowflakes. No two sarongs are alike. And they are all stunning. The shop owners are only too happy to barter. Super happy if you are a matsalleh doing it in Malay (numbers have all come back to me, thank goodness). And then, on two occasions, when I went to pay, they took another ringgit or two off. I would have happily paid the initial price. We got stunning sarongs, some gorgeous lime green batik material (Ali asked me later what I was going to make with the four metres I purchased; I responded with “I have no idea”). We also got some nutty t-shirts, and some beautiful shirts. And we bought some gula Melaka – palm sugar, in disc-shaped ‘pucks’ – freshly made.  This stuff is the maple syrup of Malaysia. Ali got so excited at how fresh it was. We bought 10 pucks. How Canadian of us. From a little old lady outside the market building. She had made it herself (it is a long process, much like maple syrup). As a result, Ali did not want to barter. He wanted to pay the full price she was asking (which was not expensive at all), since it was all going directly to her. Super sweet. On all fronts.

We also picked up longans, 4 types of mangoes (all delicious) and really good homemade banana chips for afternoon snacks.  We headed back to the hotel, super pleased with our shopping efforts. Oh, almost forgot, we picked up some totally funky pants and PJ bottoms for all of us. Love the patterns. Look out chicks in the sticks next year. I should be able to light the way to the outhouse with the pair I bought for myself.

Oh, almost forgot. The kids finally got to try durian. So what was the end result? Jordan thought it good and finished it, saying it tasted like a creamy onion; Taz said it was ok, and didn't finish it; poor Hannah gagged and had to spit it out before she vomited. And Alison, once again, still couldn't get close to it (it really, really stinks). Ali and Za'eemah loved it.

The Durian Man

The Scott-Talibs versus the Durian, Round 1.

Jordan tackles the durian, and wins.

We have dinner at the hotel, and it is delicious. The kids choose to eat there, and not walk anymore in the heat. I get it. Smart choice. We are the only customers in the restaurant and it works in our favour. We order all kinds of food, even lamb chops, and it is all yummy, well presented and well made. We head upstairs, to #407, chat a bit, have shower #536 (Malaysians shower all the time, given the heat), and crash. I have no issues falling asleep early (9pm) while cuddling with Hannah on our bed, knowing full well the Imam will be up once again at the crack of dawn belting out Allah’s greatest hits. Actually, before the crack of dawn. Harrison has his work cut out for him if he wants to compete with the Imam.

Sunday is a speedy and very wet – and somewhat scary – drive back to KL. The rain is intense, and Ali is going at breakneck speed. It scares the crap out of me, to be honest. We also pass two accidents, one that looks absolutely lethal (overturned car). Not very reassuring.  But as I write this we are half an hour outside of KL. Yes, I have been typing in the back of the van. And the laptop tells me I have 10% battery left, so suspect I will be cut off very soon. So how?