Wednesday, June 25 – Exploring Malacca, Malaysia

After a glorious sleep in our luxury hotel room, we came down for our free breakfast and found the most amazing spread you could imagine.  They had the regular breakfast stuff such as eggs, beans, toast (actually they had bread that was coloured green, felt like I was in a Dr. Seuss story for a moment) and potatoes, but also some more interesting things like giant pots of rice, chicken curry, fish sauce, lobster balls, many types of noodles, soup, bread pudding and fresh mango and guava juice.

We set out on a similar route as yesterday, but instead of following the river veered right in search of one of the two Unesco World Heritage sights in Melacca.  It was still quite early so there wasn’t much activity, but it was a perfect time to explore the area, which was filled with architectural treasures.  One shop that was open was the Durian Puff Shop.  They sell these puff pastries which contain a deadly custard made from the durian fruit.  These are the fruits which are basically banned from all public places because they smell so bad.  I decided I had to try one and convinced Ana to experience it with me so we bought two of them, noticing the sign which said “One bite, All in, No chew”.  Thankfully Ana ignored the instructions and peeled off a small piece, dipped it in the custard and popped it in her mouth…then nearly hurled.  I decided to do a similar test and ate a small piece which tasted like pure ass.  Stella even dipped her finger in and tried a bit, but Magnus was already sprinting down the street after seeing our reaction to the pastry.  I disposed of the remains in the closest trash bin I could find and we agreed that this was one acquired taste we were not going to pursue.

As we were getting increasingly overheated we came across a free museum with air conditioning so immediately slipped in for a short reprieve from the blazing hot sun.  This particular museum was dedicated to the history of the Malaysian Customs and Immigration department and may well be one of the top ten most boring museums in the world.  One of the exhibits was the plain black desk and chair of the director who ran it from 1985 to 1990.  Another was a small knife and toy gun that was confiscated in 1974.  Another small case contained a cache of confiscated alcohol which included one Tiger beer, one Carlsburg, a bottle of Jack Daniels and a bottle of wine – this would have made Al Capone’s bootleggers green with envy.  The most controversial one was a glass case which held three female mannequins (probably from Sears) that were sexually suggestive (they had tits) and were confiscated because they could lead to the corruption of society.  The exhibit concluded with portraits of all the directors of the department over the past hundred years, and by that time most of the sweat marks on my shirt had vanished so it was time to get back out in the exciting heat.

The geography of Melacca’s centre is confounding.  After wandering around for a while (we actually saw a huge monitor lizard in the river, then watched him crawl up on the bank – kids loved it!), we ended up on a giant street that was supposedly near the ocean, though we couldn’t see any water.  We walked down the street and soon encountered four gigantic, air conditioned malls.  Ana’s eyes lit up.  The malls were incredibly large, full of people and sold anything you could imagine.  We spent a couple hours browsing around, had some lunch, then headed back to the hotel and went for a glorious swim.  We met an American man and his son and the kids had a great time playing together in the pool while he gave us some great tips on places to see in Malaysia.

We gathered up the leftovers from lunch and some rice I had bought for the bus trip, and whipped up a backpacker dinner in our room then retired early after a very full day.

Tuesday, June 24 – Singapore to Malacca, Malaysia

We decided it was time to move on so after a hectic morning of packing up our stuff (which had literally exploded all over our small room), having breakfast, exchanging money, figuring out bus schedules and booking accommodation, we found ourselves on a VIP bus coach with massage chairs headed for Malacca, Malaysia.  We decided that Singapore was clean, fast, efficient, easy to navigate, but hard on the budget, and we were anxious to begin exploring Malaysia – especially the beaches.  As we drove north towards the border of Malaysia we realized how large Singapore is, but it didn’t seem unusually dense as there are still many parks and some open spaces around.

Once we arrived in Malaysia, the scenery changed dramatically and we were surrounded on both sides of the road by mainly palm plantations, but in some spots what looked like wild jungle.  The highway we traveled on was in excellent condition and all the exits and speed limits were well marked.  We were originally thinking our first destination in Malaysia would be Pulau Tioman, but we weren’t having much luck finding available accommodation so instead we chose Malacca, which is on the west coast.  We bought the Lonely Planet book “South East Asia on a Shoestring”, which covers all the countries we plan on visiting and has quite comprehensive information, though you have to keep in mind that such books are simply a guide and not a bible, and the information is not always completely up to date.  More often than not, you visit a place for yourself and leave with a completely different opinion than was presented in the book.  We find the guides are good for getting information on specific things to do in places and also the most commonly visited sites in a country.  So you never want to plan your trip completely “by the book”.

Malacca is a big, bustling city and the first thing we noticed was the majority of women wearing the head scarves.  The vast majority of citizens of Malaysia are Muslim, and it is a Muslim state, but it is known as a very tolerant country so the rules and customs don’t appear to be nearly as stringent as what you would find in Pakistan or any of the Arab countries..  We were dropped off at the central bus station and took a taxi to our hotel.  My amazing wife is the most luxurious backpacker you will ever encounter and she found us a four star, regal hotel just outside of the main city centre for fifty bucks a night, which included breakfast and access to the swimming pool and gym.  The price was only five or ten bucks more than we would have paid staying in a family room in a grimy hostel.

After getting settled in our room and doing a family happy dance we headed for a walk to the central downtown area.  It was probably the hottest time of the day and we soon began melting so after a few blocks we stopped at the first place we could find that had air conditioning – Pizza Hut.  After scanning the menu I realized two things:

1. They don’t serve alcohol
2. They don’t serve pork, and pork includes a lot of neat things like bacon, ham and sausages

Because of this second restriction, they seem to rely heavily on chicken ingredients.  In fact, every pizza had chicken.  We could choose from Chicken and Cheese, Triple Chicken Classic, Hawaiian Chicken Supreme, Chicken Pepperoni, or the Meat Lover (chicken loaf, chicken meat balls, chicken shreds).  Upon scanning the menu Magnus said, “That’s a whole lot of poultry.”

After lunch, we returned to the hotel where Ana and the kids went for a swim in the luxurious pool while I had a nice, long nap in the room.  Fully refreshed, we headed back outside and walked towards the centre and found a lovely, winding river, which we followed all the way into town, eventually winding up at a small park which was bounded by two spectacular buildings and three large bushy trees which must have held ten thousand birds, judging from the noise originating from the canopy.

We found a backpacker hotel which was showing a World Cup game so we settled in, ordered some drinks, and enjoyed some soccer.  Before long the kids had practically fallen asleep at the table so we decided to catch a taxi back to the hotel to finish off our first day in Malaysia.

Monday, June 23, 2014 – Singapore Zoo

I awoke after a rotten night’s sleep – turns out that three hour nap yesterday afternoon was not such a good idea.  The rest of the gang slept okay and by 8:30 we were out of the hotel and in an open air restaurant on the main street enjoying a breakfast of fresh watermelon, strong coffee, buttery toast and fried eggs.  We found a place that was showing the Portugal/US world cup match so pulled up a piece of sidewalk and watched it until the US pulled ahead by one goal then, fearing the worst, decided we just couldn’t watch any longer and head to the subway station to catch a train to the Singapore Zoo.  The Singapore public transport system (called the MRT) is fast, clean, cheap and easy to use.  As the zoo is on the north side of the island it took well over an hour to get there and by the time we arrived it was already blazing hot outside.

The zoo was pretty good, especially all the lush forest and open air animal enclosures, but after paying a hundred bucks for the four of us to get in we realized that we have already been to some pretty amazing zoos over the years, and seeing the animals driving themselves crazy pacing around a small enclosure is never that satisfying.  It was especially disappointing to see a polar bear collapsed on a concrete apron in the 35 degree heat.

After the zoo we took the MRT back to the city centre and met my friend Hassaan for coffee in the super modern mall beneath the Chevron Centre.  It was so great to see him again – he was looking fit, happy and was still the positive, funny, optimistic guy I remember from Pakistan.  He gave us the whole rundown on Singapore and suggested a few places for us to explore for the rest of the afternoon.  After coffee the girls browsed through some of the nearby shops while Magnus and I sat on the grass and watched all the busy work people bustling around, probably on their way to another boring meeting.  I can tell you, there is nothing better than sitting in your shorts and t-shirt in the middle of a busy work day in a financial district of a big city, watching all the work people scurrying around.  The reason this is so gratifying is because 98% of the time, you are that sad sack wearing the nice clothes, hurriedly doing your business things, with no time to appreciate the sights around you.  And one of the sights around me was the J. Lo World Cup video playing on a gigantic screen hanging off the side of one of the office towers.  The only thing missing from this scene was a cold beer in my hand, but besides that it was perfect.

We ended up passing on further sightseeing and instead returned to our hotel to have a shower and clean up in advance of our dinner date as were becoming just too sweaty and smelly and didn’t want to horrify our hosts.

The dinner with Hassaan, his wife Wajiha and their three boys and Hassaan’s parents was the highlight of my time in Singapore.  We had a wonderful meal and a great visit and did our best to catch up on the many years which had passed since our last meeting.  The kids disappeared as soon as we arrived and their young hosts kept them very entertained.  They served an outstanding meal which included Chicken Biryani, one of my favourite Pakistani dishes, and some amazing yoghurt.  In the book I wrote this year The Found Vagabond, this is one of the things I mention several times – being invited to a local’s house in a country you are traveling through is probably the most important experience you can while traveling.  You will learn more about the people in that country in one evening than by visiting a dozen museums.

Sunday, June 22, 2014 – Arrival in Singapore

After touching down and clearing immigration (first passport stamp of many!) we retrieved some clean, crisp Singapore dollars from the ATM in the airport and took a taxi to our hotel.  Ana had booked us two nights at the Fragrance Hotel in the area of Geylang, which we found out later was one of Singapore sleazier areas.  We loved it right away!  After getting settled in our room we went for a walk to explore the area and were hit face first with that unmistakable odour of a busy Asian street – an eye-watering mingling of diesel fumes, garbage, cigarette smoke, incense, frying food, spices and others you just couldn’t place, probably because you had never smelled them before.  We chose one of the many open air restaurants and sat down for our first meal, which was a plate of pad thai, chicken satays, and a pork and rice dish, which I lathered generously with this super spicy pepper sauce.  We shared a cold Carlsberg and the kids had fruit juice.  It felt good to be on the ground, enjoying some local food, in no rush to go anywhere and simply watching all the action unfold around us.  Magnus spotted a sign for “Frog Porridge” at a place across the street and I made a mental note to try that out the next day, subject to the appropriate level of culinary bravery being in place at the time.

After a lengthy afternoon family nap, I called my friend Hassaan who lives in Singapore and he invited us to dinner with him and his family the following night.  I last saw Hassaan 17 years ago when we worked together on a project in Karachi, Pakistan.  He taught me a lot about Pakistan and its culture, as well as so much about the religion of Islam.  We connected on the Facebook just a couple years ago and when I found out he was in Singapore I let him know we were coming so that we could arrange for a visit.

We were asleep by 10 pm after a very long journey.

Saturday, June 21, 2014 – The Adventure Begins

Friday – our last day in Canada for a while.  On the way home to pick up our bags I said to Ana, “So what do you think of having ten weeks of free time?”  Normally, finding ten minutes of free time during a typical day is a challenge.  And is it really “free time”?  That usually means you have nothing else to do, and with two kids, jobs and a house, there is always something to do.  This summer, the only items on our to-do list will be Food, Drinks and Shelter.  And we will be able to spend time on things we choose to, not things we have to.  This is a luxury that few people will ever get to experience, so we plan on relishing this time with our children, exploring the world, and appreciating every minute of it.

We left Toronto late Friday night and it is now early Sunday morning as we wait in the Hong Kong airport for our connecting flight to Singapore.  The flight took us over the North Pole then down through Russia and China, and the airplane had an amazing flight tracker system which included a camera on the bottom of the plane where you could watch the ground passing below – the kids loved it!  We all got some sleep on the plane and enjoyed the limitless selection of movies, televisions and music that was available.

We purposely did not plan much for our trip as we didn’t want to be tied into a schedule of places we had to be at particular dates and times.  We have our return flights booked from Bangkok at the end of August and our first two nights of accommodation in Singapore – besides that, anything goes.  We are hoping we can meet some fellow travelers along the way who can tell us of some nice places they have visited.

It is an exciting time for the Olson family!

An Excellent Travel Idea for Baby Boomers

 

I did a presentation about travel at the Brantford Rotary Club on Friday.  I quite enjoyed myself, and managed to secure myself a delicious, free lunch.  Some people will do anything for a free lunch, even embarrass themselves in front of a crowd composed mainly of fiesty baby boomers.

I had plenty of travel ideas and suggestions for the audience, but there was one that I forgot to mention that I am still regretting.  I really can’t believe I forgot to tell them about this as it’s one of the most adventurous, unforgettable, mind bending experiences a baby boomer could experience.  And this travel experience is not only easy on the pocketbook, but also offers the opportunity to meet other humble, pleasant and open minded individuals.

What am I talking about?  A death metal concert, of course.

Often overlooked by baby boomers, a death metal concert provides an authentic, accessible, adventurous, herbal travel experience.

On Monday, May 12th, my two favourite metal heads (brother Marty and brother-in-law Mark) and I will be joined by my boomer dad for an epic concert in Buffalo, New York featuring the two greatest bands currently on the heavy metal scene - Mastodon and Gojira.  I will also be turning 42 that day and am out to prove that Monday birthdays don’t always have to suck.

Now if you are yourself a boomer, you may be very much like my dad.  Currently in your 60’s and either retired or closing in on it, you probably have adult children and likely some grandchildren.  You may do some traveling, perhaps down to the Caribbean, or Mexico, or within Canada to visit family and friends.  And I bet the last concert you went to was Rod Stewart, Elton John, Bob Seger, Billy Joel, Michael Buble or Celine Dion.  Not that there’s anything wrong with those artists, but I assure you that listening to their music will produce feelings of nothing more than tranquility, calm and gentle satisfaction.  But isn’t that a wee bit boring?  Even lame?  Quite.

Upon leaving a death metal concert, you feel urgently compelled to seek out an axe, helmet, and shield then strap on a battle jerkin and go out raiding.  You are sweaty, smelly, either partially or completely stoned, drunk and probably lost one of your companions along the way.  If you had a phone or camera it’s been smashed or lost and your neck is completely loose and flexible from rotating your head wildly in an attempt to swing your non-existent hair in an awesome circular motion like the raging guitarist.  You have either been punched, or have punched somebody out, and the last time that happened was in grade 6 when you and Julio went at it down by the schoolyard.  You are not sure what happened to the shirt you wore to the show, but you are now sporting an awesome, black, beer and sweat drenched concert t-shirt that likely has a skull printed on it somewhere.  You don’t have a clue what the hell the singer was saying for any of the songs, but it doesn't matter because the death grunts belted into the microphone said it all.  Your ears are picking up a constant hum, and will remain to do so for a week.  If you are lucky you managed to catch a drumstick or guitar pick and was able to beat off the other skids who were trying to tackle you to the ground and take it from you.

You don’t have to travel far and wide for an authentic, new, and completely different experience.  And being a baby boomer doesn’t mean you have to start doing old people things.  My dad has always been adventurous, curious, open minded and retains the enthusiasm of a kid.  I hope to remain like that too as I get older.

Dad, you rock.

______________________________
Supplemental - 2 days later....

After reading this blog I received the following from my dad, who is currently at my brother's house taking care of my two young nephews:

"Just realized that the McDonalds playland is good training for the upcoming metal concert - complete with mosh pit, 145 decibel noise level, screaming, and the occasional head butt."

Yann, Stephen, Me and a Whole Bunch of Books

I have always been a voracious reader.  And somehow I’ve always assumed everybody else I know is as equally enthralled with books as me, but I have learned that this is not true at all – many people simply don’t much enjoy reading or choose to do other things with their spare time.  Fortunately my wife Ana is equally enamored with reading so our house is littered with books, in fact, you may have a hard time finding somewhere in our home to stand where there will not be a book within reach.  Ana is a great lover of fiction.  For much of my life I too read many works of fiction, especially when I lived in England and could pick up the Penguin Classics books, with their signature tan and black covers, for a couple of pounds each, which allowed me to burn through dozens of books from commonly recognized authors such as Jane Austin and Charles Dickens but also many authors and titles I’d never heard of.

Since I returned to Canada around ten years ago, my focus has turned to non-fiction books. Though I have a business degree in Finance, my knowledge of investing and financial planning was sadly lacking, so when I returned to Canada to live I found a great mentor and made it my mission to learn everything I could about personal finance.  Beyond that, during that time I have read a great number of books covering other subjects - memoirs, biographies, sailing and navigation, sociology, economics, statistics, travel, religion and so on.  I do read the odd work of fiction, but only rarely.

The other day I was at the Brantford public library, scouring through the discard rack when I came across a great find – Yann Martel’s What is Stephen Harper Reading?  I grabbed it up, along with six or seven other books, paid two bucks for the whole lot then hustled back to my vehicle, like a robber fleeing from a successful heist.  I knew this book, as I have read two of Martel’s other books and enjoyed them immensely.  I remember seeing it in the bookstores when it was first published, and even picked it up a couple times, but probably bought yet another book on dividend investing instead.

The idea of the book is this: after an upsetting incident in the House of Commons where Martel feels that he (and the arts community in general ) has been somewhat humiliated by the Prime Minister and his political colleagues, he decides to send Stephen Harper a book every two weeks that will serve to inspire a certain sense of stillness within him.  Though Martel doesn’t come right out and say it, he seems to suspect that our nation’s leader doesn’t read any interesting books.  Just lots of briefs, memos and a Guinness Book of World Records volume every once in a while for fun.  Martel’s tone meanders from sharply condescending, to one of genuine care, then right back to piss taking, sometimes in the same paragraph.  Or same sentence.  And he can be very, very funny.

But this is not a book review.  It is simply a word of thanks to Mr. Martel for compiling an incredible list of such a variety of works, from novels to poetry to plays and penned by authors all over the world.  I simply loved the book, and not for any political statements contained within its pages, but because it was like a custom written prescription for me to re-introduce myself to the genre of fiction.  And Martel has such a wonderful way with words, I can be sure that my own writing will be improved by diving into some of the books which surely helped him to become the fine writer he is.

This week I picked up the recommendation in the first letter he sent to Stephen Harper - The Death of Ivan Ilyich, a book that I read in high school, but could scarcely remember.  I read it this week and loved it, every word.  I am certain It made a lot more sense to me now than when I originally read it, likely because I am certainly closer to my own death than I was when I was 16 years old, and I have learned a bit more about the world and its people.

I’m considering embarking on my own mission to read every single one of Martel’s recommendations (there are 57 in total – his letter-writing campaign lasted for two years).  After ten years of working on my family’s finances I think we are in good enough shape to allow myself more pleasure reading time.  A lot more.  And our ten week adventure through Southeast Asia planned for this summer will provide me with the perfect opportunity to lose myself in some wonderful books.