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A "not-Irish" Bar |
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Sunday, July 4, 2004 Appearances and names can be quite deceptive. For months, ever since we first came to KL, I have walked regularly along one street we have dubbed “Lygon Street” an acknowledgment of the many restaurants there. I have often noted, but never been into, one called “The Green Man”. Outside the Green Man are placards advertising various items including Guinness and Kilkenny beer. So perhaps it’s understandable that I assumed it was an Irish pub. Irish bars crop up everywhere around the world, and KL is no exception. Last night, on our way back from an electronic shopping expedition, we decided on impulse to go in for a drink. It turns out that the Green Man is not an Irish bar, but one run by a Scotsman, who almost took umbrage at the thought. He preferred the description “British bar”. That doesn’t have the same ring, though, does it? Nevertheless, it was a very welcoming spot, full of Scots, Aussies and all breeds in between. I did come to one conclusion – Scots people are just as hard for me to understand as Asians. A couple of Scots oil company engineers started talking to us, and most of the time, I had no idea what they were saying. Maybe their alcohol consumption was a factor as well their accent. I did, however, gather they were delighted Australia had thrashed the English last weekend at Rugby.
*** Our hotel generally tries to give its residents what they want - but I’m not sure who requested the latest offering. They’ve installed a hookah smoking area next to the pool. Yes, that’s right, a hookah (or more colloquially, a bong), just like you see in those old movies showing Arabs smoking from something that looks like a small lampstand with a hose attached. I always thought those things were for smoking hashish or other illicit substances. The hotel is supplying (for a fee, of course), the “traditional” Middle Eastern tobaccos to be used, plus the appropriate Arab food to go along with the occasion. We decided to give it a miss, but the food was OK. (right): DB checking out the hookah for an Arab “shisha” smoking session at our hotel. *** Monday, July 5 DB is still fascinated with his new toy, the GPS unit. The problem is, it requires good digital computer maps to be really effective – and so far, we haven’t found such software for Malaysia. So he has set about building his own, using a web-based KL street directory. He has downloaded the individual pages, and I am entrusted with the task of putting them all together, much like a computer screen jigsaw puzzle (at least, he has numbered each piece for me, to make the assembly a little easier). So finishing that job, which I started yesterday, will be the big task for today. *** Denise Bruce called yesterday afternoon to invite us for afternoon tea – I think she is already tired of the nursemaid role for Rob, who is now out of hospital. When we went over there, we found Rob trying valiantly to be his usual bouncy self, but falling short. I think he may have heaved a big sigh of relief when the door closed behind us! He told us the hospital accommodation was fine, doctors very thorough and staff friendly – but the food was awful. He had elected to have western-style food, but this description didn’t extend to the temperature it was served at. Cold. So he couldn’t wait to get out, and twisted the doctor’s arm to discharge him, at least for the weekend. *** It was back to The Olive last night for the French Grand Prix and Wimbledon Men’s final. The GP was a very good example of the skills of Michael Schumacher – using one more pit stop than anybody else and still finishing more than eight seconds ahead of anyone else. It was a master class in race tactics. I lasted only the first two sets of the Wimbledon final – but they were impressive. I am surprised Federer could overcome the sheer blasting strength of Andy Roddick. Tennis is getting interesting again – they actually came into the net a few times. I might have to head south once again next January for the Australian Open. *** I have now confirmed my flight back to Australia, earlier than I had originally planned. DB has told the company that if they go ahead with a major project now scheduled for August 7, he will stay for that, until August 10, but absolutely no later, since the Kidney Rally starts on the 12th. That transfer date is looking increasingly unlikely, so if they do delay the operation, he says he’ll be out of here on July 31 – but maybe he might stay another week to handover to his replacement, a guy coming from the U.S. Since I’m not travelling with him for this trip (I have to use up my original return ticket on Lauda Air), I’ve decided to leave on July 29. That will leave him free to opt out of here at anytime after that, without his worrying about my travel arrangements. So three weeks Thursday, all being well, I will be back home. *** Dave is already working on the details for the scoring of this year’s Kidney Kar Rally. All these events involve a fair amount of preliminary work for him; the KKR more than most, since it is a non-standard event. The rally should be fun: it goes from Campbelltown to Coolangatta – via Broken Hill and Tibooburra. Talk about doing things the hard way… Wednesday, July 7 The future is becoming a little clearer…. Yesterday, I picked up my ticket out of here – the Austrian Airlines flight passes through KL from Europe at the uncivilised hour of 5.25am, which means a 3.30am arrival at the airport after a 2.30am departure from the hotel. I won’t know whether to stay up late, or get up early. Today, DB’s replacement has also agreed to be here by the end of the month, so Dave should be home soon after me…. As to whether or not the replacement will stay any longer than the agreed two months is still a dark mystery. We may have to come back, we may not. Who knows? So now we have only a couple of weekends left in Malaysia, and we want to do something with them. Maybe a drive this weekend around the north-western States of Perlis and Kedah and possibly Kelantan; we have so far only flown over the first two on our way to Langkawi island… Maybe a trip to Bali the following weekend – I did think of Hanoi in Vietnam, but there’s extra red tape with prior visas etc to go there. And Vietnam probably deserves more than a four-day weekend trip. Plus, once DB’s replacement arrives, Dave will have to spend time bringing him up to speed, and taking extra days to go sightseeing in North Vietnam may not be such a good idea. Before we had the confirmation today of Dave’s replacement’s travel plans, I walked down to the Embassy of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam to check out their visa requirements. The visa section is overseen by a large, black-and-white portrait of a benevolent Ho Chi Minh smiling slightly, as would-be visitors to his country deal with the paperwork to get there. It seems obtaining the visas in time for a departure on the 19th would be borderline, and the American will have arrived by the following weekend, which rules the final weekend out. Bali, however, grants visas on arrival (after payment of the appropriate fee at the airport – about $US25). So maybe Bali’s the go. It will also be holiday time when we are back in Australia – after the Kidney Kar Rally next month, I have booked five days at Coolangatta for us, Jenny (who is doing the KKR with us) and (I hope) Dad. Dad is waiting on the all-clear from his heart specialist in Brisbane before agreeing to exchange Toowoomba’s bitter winter frosts for Gold Coast warmth. *** An out-of-season rain storm has just hit – if it’s anything like one which marooned us at TGI Friday’s restaurant last night for a hour, it will be a deluge. These shouldn’t happen in the Dry. Since it’s now only 4pm, it will all be over and dried out by Dave’s coming-home-time. That’s important, since he generally walks home – taxis are impossible to get once a storm hits, or if you are lucky enough to jag one, they want three times the metered fee. *** Tonight is the State of Origin decider. Now that there are fewer Newcastle Knights in the NSW team (only two, I think), I can ease off the fence a little and barrack for Queensland with a clear conscience. Thursday, July 8 My clear conscience didn’t help Queensland last night. *** At the moment, I’m reading a novel written 75 years ago, by a Frenchman who lived here on a rubber plantation. The novel, The Soul of Malaya, won a highly rated prize at the time, the Prix Goncourt for its writer, Henri Fauconnier. I can relate to some of his thoughts on Malaysia’s weather.. § “It rains a great deal in Malaya, but dark and dismal days are unknown. The sky exults, or sheds abundant tears…. Malaya is content with this almost daily bath and for the rest of the time takes a sun cure.” § “In Malaya the seasons are hardly distinct. You do not die a little every year, as in Europe at the end of Autumn. You cease to think of date or time…. Only the contrast of day and night suggests that the earth has not ceased to revolve.” He’s spot on about the lack of a seasonal awareness – I hadn’t realised that those of us from a temperate climate tended to think in terms of “what happened that summer when…” or, “last winter, such and such happened…”. Back home, the seasons are an instinctive way of measuring the span of the years. Here it is all one blur, and time itself becomes uncertain. Friday, July 9 Today’s New Straits Times today published one of the funniest letters from a soccer fan I have read in a long time. The just-concluded Euro 2004 must have caused the productivity of Malaysia and other countries where the games went live at ungodly hours of the night to suffer some appreciable reduction. It is therefore appropriate to ask whether it is really necessary to have different time zones in the world? What if we have just one time zone for everybody? What is it we can do at 9am that we cannot do at 9pm? The definition of day and night is arbitrary. S.C.T Bintulu Maybe the writer has his tongue stuck firmly in his cheek – and no, it isn’t April 1. *** That’s it for this week – we are off for the weekend first thing in the morning.
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