We never intended to stay long in Kuala Lumpur. It’s a big city - sleek and modern. Not Dubai by any means, but not where we wanted to be. So after a morning in the park near the Petronas Towers, we flew north an hour to Penang International and taxied to George Town.
Arriving mid-afternoon, it was oppressively hot. And not just in George Town. Bangkok, 95. Ho Chi Minh City the same. We’ll be sweating our way through SE Asia. My son-in-law Zac said when he and Sarah honeymooned in these parts, he never stopped.
“I was legitimately concerned that Sarah would get an annulment for irreconcilable perspiration the moment we got home.”
So after arriving, Pa and I stayed in the cool of our room, missing Nepal and feeling sorry for ourselves. Actually it was just me. Pa didn’t think the heat would bother him one bit, and come dinner time he pushed us out the door.
The sun about to set,
we were in some strange kind of Wonderland,
and would like to have had Alice along.
Rounding a corner the Call to Prayer sounded,
a reminder that more than half of Malaysia’s population is Muslim.
We were in an old part of the city for sure,
but not just old.
When the lamplights awakened,
we knew,
this is a town of Thin Places.
Every corner,
every street,
every step of the way.
I felt a little guilty.
Though my heart still in Nepal, I was being seduced by a lady of the night.
Pa blushed at the thought of it and said we best be getting dinner.
Soon enough, on a side street of George Town, what everyone comes to SE Asia for.
I told the gentleman it was late and couldn’t eat much.
I don’t think he understood.
Making our way through most of it, we looked to the left.
Settling up, we went there,
and were reminded that it’s Ramadan.
Not wanting to intrude, we resumed our walk with the lady of the night,
a most fascinating woman to say the least.
Somehow we were back on the street that started it all,
and soon home,
in the comfort of Carnarvon House.
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