Mar 6 – Old and New in Kuala Lumpur

Perhaps the most important event of the day did not take place on our tour of Kuala Lumpur.  When we returned this afternoon, we found two notes from the captain on the bed.  The less important one addressed the outbreak of norovirus on the ship, noted the symptoms and urged everyone to wash, wash, wash as often as possible.

The second announced that we would not be docking at any ports in Egypt.  There was no equivocation this time as there had been on the Grand Med in 2011 when we did finally spend 2 days in Cairo.  The itinerary has been adjusted and our stops in Kusadasi and Aqaba have been changed by a day or two.  Replacing the 3 stops in Egypt will be 2 days in Israel and an added sea day.  By the time we get to Athens [if we get to Athens], we will be back on track.

As soon as we found the notice, D was on the computer writing to tour vendors to see if they could provide the confirmed tours on the new dates.  Both wrote back promptly that there would be no problems with the new dates.  He also sent a message to the tour company we used in 2011.  That year we stayed overnight in Jerusalem when we were lucky enough to get a room for one night during Passover and Holy Week.  This year we will return to the ship each night if we are lucky enough to arrange for tours.  Ken is also trying to get “his” guide to arrange something.  We are hoping one of us is successful. Ginger and Dave have already asked to be included if our tour vendor comes through.  We told them we would have 2 – 6 people; Ken thinks his guide can only fit 5 in his car.  Stay tuned for further developments on this breaking story.

Meanwhile…We thought we might be in trouble when Leng, the scheduled guide in Kuala Lumpur, did not appear this morning.  In his place, we found Dom [short for Dominique].  He had a sign with our name and spoke moderately good English, so we knew things wouldn’t be too bad.  As it turns out, Dom is Leng’s brother.

Although our tour was supposed to be of KL, we started at Putrajaya, a made-for-government city like Brasilia.  It is not the capital of the country [KL is], but much of the administrative and ceremonial activity occurs in Putrajaya.  Dom told us that “putra” means ruler or governor and the prime minister works out of Putrajaya.  His office building is grandiose from the outside;  we were not invited in to see it.

The highlight of the stops in Putrajaya was the visit to the Putra Mosque, named, obviously after the putra. It is know more familiarly as the Pink Mosque because of its exterior color including the dome.  We are used to seeing green on mosques, especially in Morocco, but there was none here.  The spacious interior can hold almost 15000 [yes, thousand] worshippers.  Like the Orthodox Jewish synagogues, there is a balcony for the woman to pray.

Other stops in Putra included the old National Palace and the new National Palace.  The old one has been turned into a museum but we were not told what kind it is nor did we attempt to breach the fence and cross its beautiful grounds to find out.  The new National Palace is set on a hill behind a large entrance which features a double-paneled gate and a façade which reminded us of the entrance to the royal palace in Rabat.  There were 4 ceremonial guards, 2 on horseback, set in alcoves by the gate.  Unlike the guards at Buckingham Palace, the mounted guards and their horses interacted with the tourists.  While we were there, police came out of the compound and shooed visitors out of the driveway in preparation for the arrival of an official limousine and its police escort.

From Putrajaya, we continued to Kuala Lumpur, the capital of Malaysia and its 14 subdivisions [thirteen provinces and one Federal district].  Our first stop was at the Dataran Merdeka, the site where the Malaysian flag was first raised on August 31, 1957.  Its raising symbolized the end of British Colonial rule in the Malay Peninsula.  Originally a club for the British, complete with cricket fields, it is now a park with a fountain and expansive green lawn [the former cricket pitch].

We visited several markets [although there is some debate about the number] and China town where we went to a temple to watch worshippers prepare and then burn offerings in addition to burning incense.  We do not know if this is an everyday event or if it is because of the Chinese New Year celebration.  We also saw the front of an Indian temple with its lavish and colorful decorations.

We also saw the exterior of the Patronas Towers but only for a photo stop.  We did not want to spend the time or money to go up to the sky bridge which connects the two towers; besides, some people in the group are afraid of heights.  We drove past the Blue Mosque but people were gathering outside prior to the call to prayer so we could not even stop the van much less get close to it.  Unlike other mosques [and everyplace seems to have a blue one], the roof of the sanctuary is not a dome but was described by Dom as umbrella-shaped.  There are 14 V-shaped panels which make it look like an umbrella, one panel for each of the provinces.  There also 14 flags at the new palace in Putra for the same reason.

The highlight of our time in Kuala Lumpur may have been lunch.  Given the choice of street food or restaurant food, we chose street food.  Dom and the driver had a little trouble finding the vendor they wanted, but one wrong turn into a dead-end was understandable considering the winding route they took to get that far.  The food made it all worthwhile.

We were in a “locals” place.  With little through traffic and no nearby public transportation, this was not a venue anyone would find by accident.  Most of the customers either lived or worked nearby and most seemed to be women in traditional garb.  As is the Arab custom, the locals ate using only their right hands; we were the only ones using Western utensils although Dom said that the Chinese residents do also. We shared our meal which consisted of wood-grilled squid and tilapia and banana-leaf-wrapped grilled stingray.  Add rice and an assortment of vegetables plus sticky-rice-mango-and-coconut milk for dessert, and we were in our happy place.  Ken was the only one who had any of the local currency, so he paid and we reimbursed him in USD.  The bill for the 8 of us plus Dom was the equivalent of $30.  By the time we left, people were waiting for our table, a good indicator in its own right.

On the ride home, 5 of the 8 nodded off as did Dom.  Shades of Saigon when the guide slept for the 2 hour ride back to the ship.

Although the custom on past Grand Voyages has been for guests to receive pillow gifts on formal nights, we continue to get only better pillow chocolates.  Then, on some whim, something will appear on our beds when we return from dinner.  Recently we found Tumi luggage scales and tonight we were presented with “ballistic nylon carry on travel bags” which have wheels and are noticeably larger than the carry-on bags from the dear departed Orient Lines which we have used since 2002.

TOMORROW -- Georgetown, Penang, and maybe some email

Mar 7 – No News and Bad News

First, the bad news.  MA seemed to have caught the gastrointestinal distress which has run rampant on shipboard.  Although she had no fever, there were other unpleasant symptoms, so she placed herself in quarantine and stayed in the room all day.  She did not even call room service for lunch and had some soup and chicken in the room for dinner.  We are hoping that she will feel better tomorrow, but she has already decided to skip the tour just to be safe.

The no news is just that.  We have heard nothing from the tour company in Israel yet, not even an acknowledgement that they received the email.  Likewise, Ken has not heard from his guide either.  Now all we can do is wait patiently. 

It seems that most of our tours have to have some element of confusion in them.  Today’s was no exception.  For operational reasons, we used tenders to go ashore this morning but were docked by the terminal in the afternoon.  Our guide did not realize this and was waiting inside the terminal for us while we waited outide in the morning heat.  D asked one of the local drivers to call our guide after assuring him that we had a pre-paid tour.  The driver cooperated and told the guide where we were.

Our problems were not over because once the guide appeared, he could not find the van we were to use.  He called the driver who said he was on his way with a “different” vehicle.  When he arrived, he was driving a 12-passenger van for 7 people [plus himself and the guide].  We told Raymond, the guide, to sit in the middle so everyone could hear him because the van had no microphone/speaker system.  Ironically, our printed itinerary showed a 9 a.m. start despite our 8:30 meeting time and we did, indeed, start out at 9 o’clock.

It wasn’t on the original itinerary, but we started at the Jewish cemetery.  [On the way, we passed St. George’s Church, the oldest Anglican church in SE Asia; we paused only long enough for photos.]There are no Jews left in Penang, but the cemetery is still maintained, at least by local standards.  When Raymond asked about flowers, we explained that Jews do not place flowers on graves; instead, they put stones to show that the person was remembered.  Flowers will die in a week or less, but the stones will be there as a reminder forever.

The earliest grave dated from 1835 and the most recent was from 2011.  The early ones were written entirely in Hebrew except for the birth and death dates while the last one was a mixture of Hebrew and English.  As we placed stones on the grave of Mordecai David Mordecai, we wondered who performed his burial since he was apparently the last Jew in Penang.  We will never know.

The graveyard is maintained by an Indian woman who appeared to be in her 60s.  She inherited the job from her father who had inherited it from his father.  There seemed to be another generation on the grounds, so there may be a 4^th generation waiting for the job.  The caretaker and her family live on-site and probably receive a stipend from the Trust which administers the cemetery.

We drove from here to the former synagogue.  The synagogue building now houses a photographic business of some sort.  There were no remnants of the synagogue visible through the windows, but the exterior was in good repair despite the absence of anything which might have identified its former life. 

Then it was time to “get with the program,” literally.  The first agenda item was a trishaw ride through parts of old Penang.  Trishaws are pedal operated rickshaws with the operator riding a bicycle pushing a passenger seated in the front.  This contraption has three wheels, thereby giving it its name.  We rode individually, seven Westerners trying to look inconspicuous while people stared.  We should have big Ts on our chests to symbolize our tourist status.  Overall, it was a great experience.

Georgetown is a UNESCO Heritage site which means that new construction may not exceed 60 feet or 4 stories.  On our ride we passed or passed through Chinatown, Little India, the Kwong Hock Keong Chinese temple [the oldest in Penang] and the Kapitan Keling Mosque.  We waved to friends from the ship as we raced at turtle speed through Little India; all of the operators were elderly and we felt a little guilty having them work so hard.  On the other hand, some drove as if they wanted to kill us, especially making illegal turns on red lights in heavy traffic.  It was fun but also a little frightening.

The trishaw ride ended at the Khoo Kongsi Chinese clan-house.  Raymond met us there and, after we had tipped the drivers, explained about the clan system in Penang.  If it takes a village to raise a child, the clans served as the village.  They offered financial and emotional support to family members who were newly arrived and helpless.  Raymond said there were 5 clan houses in Penang, each serving a different family.  The Khoo clan was the most successful and the richest and there wealth was certainly on display in their clan-house.  The central of the three rooms was a Taoist shrine, ornately decorated in golds and reds.  The side rooms held plaques honoring the most successful members of the clan with their names and the universities they attended or their position in society.  One of the rooms held the remains of past leaders and important members of the clan.

Across the courtyard in front of this building was an opera stage where productions were held on special days.  It was also ornately decorated as was the exterior of the main building.  The roof was elaborate and colorful.  In a side area of the main building was a life-size model of what a typical Chinese home might have been like with 4 men sitting around a table using chopsticks to eat out of bowls.  There was also a kitchen are in the display.

Our last stop before lunch was the Kek Lol Si Temple, a Taoist temple built on a high hill overlooking the town.  Raymond said we could get out of the van and walk up to the temple but that it would take at least an hour in 95 degree heat and similar humidity.  We stayed in the van.  The hill was steep enough and tall enough that we were not sure we would make it up the winding roadway to the parking lot, but we did.

As always, we were assaulted by the elements as soon as the doors were opened.  We crossed the car park snapping pictures as we went until we were in the inevitable gift shop, one of several we would encounter here.  Raymond explained that we would have to walk up the hillside [mountainside?] to reach the enormous pagoda and Goddess of Mercy statue at the top.  A friend of Linda Starr’s, traveling with us instead of Arthur, declined and stayed behind while the rest of us started up.

Luckily, it was not a straight climb but a series of staircases with things to see and time to rest between flights.  It was still a long way up and there was little shade to be had.  We finally emerged into another large gift shop where Raymond purchased tickets for the ride to the top.  We relaxed in front of fans while we waited for the funicular car to arrive and then crowded in with other tourists and pilgrims for the short ride to the top.  The view as we rose up the incline was breathtaking.

Once at the top, we had to go through yet another gift shop to get outside and into the burning rays of the hot tropical sun.  There was only a slight breeze even on the top of this mountain.  It was here that the irony gods struck us because we found other Amsterdam passengers getting ready to climb into their minivan for the ride down!  We were dumbfounded.  We had just trekked up a bazillion steps in the heat and ey had driven.  Raymond explained that our driver did not think our van could make the climb to the top, a plausible explanation considering how it struggled to get to the parking lot.

Before us was the Goddess of Mercy, all 60 feet of her.  She had been visible for miles but we had no scale to estimate her size.  Raymond then told us the story of her personal sacrifices that ended in her transformation from devoted daughter [like Cordelia in King Lear] to Goddess of Mercy. 

Lower down the hill was the pagoda, seven levels of golden delight done in three differing architectural styles.  There were Indian, Chinese and Thai[?] influences as the style changed every 2 stories.  We did not approach the pagoda although we could see that others were there.  From a distance, it was easy to see where the pagoda changed from one style to another but it may have been harder up close.  We never took pictures on a level with it, always looking up.

We repeated the journey down the mountain – gift shop, funicular, steps, steps, steps, gift shop – until we met the driver and Linda’s friend.  She had spent most of the time in the van in some semblance of comfort but she was a bit testy when we regrouped.

We sort of ate lunch at the bottom of the hill at the 118 Café.  Outside the café were two WWII memorials, one a plinth commemorating the Chinese who help defend Malaysia against the Japanese and the other a memorial to the British who were there as well.  Or maybe it was to the Japanese.  The explanation was a little confusing; regardless, it was a life-size bronze of a jeep being pushed out of mud by several soldiers.

The 118 Café was a collection of food stalls around a central courtyard, nothing like the hawker food we encountered yesterday.  D found a place which looked promising and order chicken and rice which came with hot sauce and a cup of chicken soup.  When he returned to the table, he was surprised/disappointed that no one else was eating.  One couple who had been with us yesterday said they were not in the mood for rice again today; one offered no explanation and Linda and her friend were afraid to eat the local food.  Instead, several had the local beer.  Linda ordered watermelon juice but refused to drink or pay for it because it had ice cubes in it.  She settled for a beer and her friend for bottled water.  D had a real Coke.  While he was getting it, Annie drank the hot sauce which came with the chicken and declared it quite tasty and others [unidentified] nibbled at the rice.

Although she would not eat anything in the 118 Café, Linda stopped to purchase a pancake from an old woman who was making them on a portable stove outside the café.  We could not figure out why that was safe and the food inside was not, but Linda said the rolled pancake was quite tasty and filled with ground peanuts.

We were back on the road, then, on our way to the Reclining Buddha Temple.  This was a Thai temple which nonetheless had some Chinese influences.  Outside were large mirrored dragons, two in red and two in green.  The red ones represented China and the green represented Thailand.  There were also 2 larger-than-life statues done in red and green.

We had to remove our shoes [but not our socks] and hats before going inside.  The temple was resplendent in more gold and green.  The Buddha itself was over 100 feet long and laying on its right side.  As with all depictions of Buddha, the feet were perfectly flat and the toes were perfectly straight.  In front and below the Buddha were smaller statues of goddesses and celebrated monks as well as candles and donation boxes.  Worshippers could kneel on mats which had been provided for them.

Behind the Reclining Buddha we found two walls filled with glass-covered niches containing the remains of of the dearly departed.  As in many of the Asian religions, followers of Buddhism are cremated.  At this temple, those whose families could afford the fee were on display, so to speak.  The more the family paid, the better the placement and visibility of the urn.  The rows at eye-level cost the most.  The window on each niched contained information about the deceased.  There was a wall behind the Buddha itself, so it rose only to eye-level and then the outside wall opposite which rose at least 20 feet.  The niches at the top of that wall were the least expensive since no one could see or read them.

Across the street was another Buddhist temple, but this one was Burmese.  Like most Buddhist temples, it was really a compound with several buildings and beautiful grounds.  We wandered on our own for about 20 minutes before reassembling for the ride to our last port of call.

Just as the immigrating had their clan houses, so, too, did they have their own neighborhoods.  Because they were poor, they could not afford traditional housing in Penang, so they built shanty towns.  These were built on piers over the water as a way to avoid paying taxes to the government.  The clan jetties, as they are called, have morphed from strictly housing to shopping streets with carry-out food available along with sundries and tourist tchotchkes.  Most of the families live in back of their stores although there are still some places that are strictly residential.  Many of these had signs asking people not to take photographs.

We walked all the way to the end of the jetty where Raymond explained that the Chinese immigrants who lived here had once provided transportation for goods to and from ships in the harbor.  In those days, everything worked on a barter system.  The boats would go out to the ships and bring goods in; the merchants from both sides would haggle over the price; and then the Chinese boatmen would take the new goods which had been traded for out to the ships.  This system and their way of life changed drastically when barter was outlawed and the government found a new source of income.

We left the jetties and drove for only 5 minutes to return to the ship.  Raymond then asked for $12 apiece for entry fees [like the funicular] which was no big surprise because the original description said fees might be as high as $20.  No one complained and it gave at least one traveler a chance to rid himself of his remaining local currency.

MA was still not feeling well enough to come to the MDR for dinner, but D went without her because we had invited Ginger and Dave to eat with us.  Ken offered the three of us space at their table, but we declined and had a relaxing meal.  Meanwhile, MA had soup and chicken and no ill after-effects.

TOMORROW – Phuket, Thailand

Mar 8 – Elephant and Buddhas

Wonder of wonders, our guide showed up in the right place at the right time.  The ship was late arriving in Phuket because of tidal considerations, but we were still off the boat at 8:30 and found Jo at the front of the crowd awaiting passengers.

Jo, whose real first name is Patthanat, is a 33-year-old who has her own tour business.  When she books a trip such as ours through Tours by Locals, she takes the customers around herself, but when clients come from other sources, she assigns them to one of her other guides.  She hopes to get out of the guiding herself when she marries and has children.  She is in a three-year relationship with a Frenchman, but they have not talked seriously about marriage.  We found her to be charming, witty and generally fun to be around.  She also knew everything we wanted to know and then some. 

At one point during the day, she was giving language lessons to one of the group, explaining what words meant and how they were pronounced.  The problem with English, she said, was that the same letter combination can mean different things in different contexts and even be pronounced differently.  This was not news to us, of course, but she then explained that Thai has 34 consonants and 22 vowels and 4 tones which make it an inflected language.  Mom was right – it’s not just what you say but also the way that you say it.  The same pronunciation with each of the tones produces 4 individual words.  Phew!  It made English seem simple, at least to us.  She also said that she uses English and French almost exclusively and has trouble remembering Thai words when she is in conversation.

We started our tour on the west side of the island.  This where the tourists come, according to Jo, and we could see why.  From the Karon View lookout we could see three beautiful beaches and lush forests.  The vast expanse of the Indian Ocean complemented the shoreline and created a symphony of blue and green.  Jo said that Karon View is best known for its views of the sunset, but it was pretty spectacular by daylight.

Working our way eastward, toward the ship, we took time for a 30-minute elephant trek.  Luckily for us, it was the elephants which did the trekking.  All we had to do was hold on for dear life.  Elephants do not move quickly – they can’t run – but they lurch from side to side and front to back so there is never a truly steady moment.  Taking pictures from a moving elephant is an exercise in luck because they are only steady when they stop.

Our elephants made a big circle up a hill and then down the other side.  It wasn’t exactly exciting and we did not go through any water as D had outside of Bangkok in 2008.  On the positive side, no one got drenched by a frisky elephant.  The beasts seemed to hear their own drummer and would stop when they wanted to to forage or pick up sticks.  They knew the route and the routine and knew we were not going to get off.  Our “drivers” each stopped to take our pictures with our cameras [for which they were tipped about $2 each] and also tried to sell us trinkets after first leading us to believe we were receiving souvenirs from the ride.

To prove she was a good sport, Jo agreed to pose with the Flat Grandchildren and a baby elephant.  The grandchildren were the more cooperative.  The elephant did not want to hold still.  He even had the nerve to “kiss” Jo who had to wipe her face thoroughly when she returned to the van.

The highlight of the scenic overlook on the Phromthep Cape was the wedding party we observed.  Jo said that the couple had yet to marry and that these were pro-wedding pictures we were seeing.  The bride had a long aqua dress but was shoeless, all the better to keep her footing on the rocky outcrop where they were posing.  Jo told us that Thai people like to have their pictures taken and that the couple would not mind our gawking.  Oh, and the view over the surrounding hills and ocean was nice, too.

Several times this morning we saw a big white Buddha on top of a mountain.  We had no idea that it was known simply as The Big Buddha.  It has another official name but everyone knows it as The Big Buddha.  Even the signs pointing the way and the sign on its front say Big Buddha.  It is visible from all over standing, as it does, 45 meters tall on top of a mountain.  The Big Buddha is approximately 25 meters wide and gleamed in the bright midday sun.  It was hard to miss.

We drove yet again to a car park and yet again faced a climb to reach the top.  We entered through a covered shopping area and made our way to the bottom of the steps.  Ken and Lois did not want to climb or spend more time in the sun, so they stayed under cover while the rest of us walked up the stairs.  This climb was not as bad as our others [Uluwatu, the Pagoda] because it was shorter at only 78 steps and cooler because it was shaded overhead. 

Although Jo had told us that the Big Buddha was mostly solid concrete covered in marble tiles, we could not discern this until we were close to it.  It looked like a three-dimensional mosaic.  All of the marble tiles were the same but different since they were natural stone.  The back side of the statue is still incomplete and had scaffolding around it and there is still more work to be done to a ground level space.  Outside were statues of various Buddhas as well as bells strung at ceiling height around the covered walkway at the base of the Buddha.  These bells and statues will be placed inside once that area is completed.

Our final stop before lunch was at the Wat Chalong temple.  Wat is the word for temple in several Asian countries, so Wat Chalong temple is really redundant.  Again, this Buddhist temple was a compound with several buildings.  We explored several including one which is less than 20 years old.  At its very top is a relic of the Buddha himself, allegedly a piece of bone.  Once again we had to remove our shoes and hats as a sign of respect.  There were people in the temple praying as there had been at all of the others, so we tried to as unobtrusive as possible.

We found another couple taking wedding pictures outside one of the buildings so we all took their pictures, too.  We were only a little startled when fireworks were discharged at another of the buildings but only because Jo had warned us about it; the firecrackers were set off several more times while we were there.

There was more climbing involved in lunch.  We drove to the top of a mountain and then walked down the other side of the hill to get to Tunk-Ka, the restaurant.  It was pleasant but not air conditioned on the patio, but we had a panoramic view of the area from our table.  There was plenty of good food and everyone was happy.  To keep things simple, D charged the entire bill [about $70] and collected from everyone later.  Although the itemized bill was in Thai, Jo knew who had ordered what and placed symbols next to the items to indicate who had eaten what.  All D had to do was match the symbols and amounts.

Our itinerary included time to feed the monkeys and we thought it had been left out.  Jo explained that the monkeys in question were outside the restaurant and that she had fed them since we did not seem interested.  None of us had heard her mention it, but we all saw the monkeys as we left, so there were no hard feelings.

We were also supposed to take a walking tour in the old town of Phuket, but no one was anxious to get out of the van and into the inferno any sooner than necessary, so we went back to the ship instead.  We were home earlier than planned which made everyone happy.

Most of us wandered through WalMart on the Water, as we call it.  There was a small tent city of merchants and food vendors selling to passengers and crew alike.  D picked up something for Lois’ birthday tomorrow before going to the cabin to check on MA.  After Trivia he returned to WalMart to buy something for the tchotchke table in the den and a size 2 surprise.

MA seemed recovered from her intestinal distress and went to the MDR for her first real meal in two days.  Ginger joined us minus Dave who has had a relapse and is once again suffering the noro symptons.  Ginger is hoping it is just a reaction to some curry which sneaked into their lunch today.  We’ll learn more tomorrow.

Update on Israel:  There is no update because there has been no response to the email.

TOMORROW – A much-needed sea day.

 

 

 

 

 

Mar 3 – Approaching Singapore

We are steadily closing in on Singapore where we will spend the next two days.  In the meanwhile, the regular sea day routine has had some wrinkles added.

We will be losing a number of passengers in Singapore.  Chief among them, for us, is the lady who cheats at Trivia.  Her departure will mean that Trivia will be more fun and that we will have to find a new topic of conversation.  Her antics – including changing scores, changing answers, submitting falsified answer sheets and general bullying of teams which scored her team’s answer sheet – have become the stuff of legends.  Even non-Trivia players talk about her and several Cruise Critic friends come to the Ocean Bar each day just to watch the group dynamic.

Although we met for Trivia today, there was no competition.  With people leaving tomorrow, Cruise Director Gene will be distributing Grand Dollars based on point totals and overall placement since Sydney.  We were not concerned about our placement, but were not-so-secretly hoping we beat the cheat at her own game.  Alas, we were satisfied with our 4^th place but were disappointed that She Who Shall Not Be Named came in first, beating us by 8 points over the 9 days of competition.  Several of our teammates continued to complain about the results for the rest of the day.

We re-crossed the equator today and that meant it was time to “kiss the fish.” This ritual is held on the Lido deck in and around the pool. Crew members who have not previously crossed the equator [except earlier on this voyage] are subjected to degradation, slime and humor and, in fact, do have to kiss a large, dead fish.  We have seen this performance several times and opted not to attend.  That decision brought both good and bad news.  The good news was that we stayed out of the equatorial sun; the bad news was that we missed the captain and hotel manager going into the pool, too.

Follow-up:  Waiter Ricky, whose brother was supposed to drive us yesterday, appeared at our dinner table last night full of apologies and insistence that he should pay for our adventure.  We refused again, but he tried to slip the money to MA as he shook her hand.  She gave it right back to him although D did say that the reason was that he had not offered enough.  He took that in good humor and accepted defeat.  At breakfast this morning, he was back to normal and the subject was not discussed nor shall it be except when we recount it to other people.  As Ginger said, we have already gotten a lot of mileage out of the experience.  We found out at Trivia that tablemates of Ken and Lois had gone shopping in the old town and ducked into a restaurant to escape the rain.  Naturally, it was Café Batavia.  It figures.  We couldn’t find it and they tripped over it. 

The MDR was decorated with red lanterns when we went to breakfast this morning.  It is the end of Chinese New Year and dinner was listed in the daily program as “formal optional,” a category we have never seen before.  The explanation was simple: with passengers leaving in the morning, formal dress would have presented a problem because they had to pack tonight.  The remaining passengers were encouraged to wear formal attire or Chinese clothing; we opted for basic black.  The menu was anything but Chinese and featured the cruise ship special of escargot and surf-and-turf.

The after-dinner show was an a cappella group we had seen several days ago.  Their voices were good but they used their bass as a boom box and sang almost no 4-part harmony. 

TOMORROW – Singapore

Feb 4 – One Short Day in the Emerald City

Singapore is a beautiful city.  It is also the capital of one of the most h the most repressive laws and punishments in the civilized world.  There are strict controls on what can and cannot be brought into the country.  Drug crimes carry draconian penalties including death.  Convicted criminals can still be beaten with a cane.  Littering is a major offense.

On the other hand, this city is filled with parks and green space, modern office buildings and shopping malls [at least two of which are at the cruise terminal].  Unemployment is low; the people are friendly and helpful; and the populace seems genuinely happy. 

We decided to revisit some favorite places and check out some new ones.  It seems that every other time we have come to Singapore, one of us has been sick and we have had to abandon our plans, but we were luckier this time.  Our itinerary called for a visit to the Singapore Botanical Garden and its Orchid Garden and lunch at Halia, a restaurant outside the Orchid Garden and the Ginger Garden.  Previously, we have taken a taxi to the Garden, but today we tried the MRT, the Singapore subway.

Just getting to the subway involved a long, long walk through the terminal, past immigration and passport control, through a shopping center and then down a series of escalators.  We wandered around a bit trying to figure out where we were going and which train to take.  Although we could have opted for a one- or two-day transit pass, we chose to pay as we went.  We had to walk quite a distance to get to the proper track after we had bought tickets at the automated vendors, a precursor to the walking we were going to do the rest of the day.

There is a direct train from the Harbourfront station to the Botanical Gardens which meant that we did not have to change trains.  We left the MRT at the appropriate stop and realized that we were right at an entrance.  This was not the one we had used on a previous trip, so nothing looked familiar.  The signpost which pointed to various areas of the park sent us in the right direction with the added information that we were 1.6km from the Orchid Garden.  In other words, we were a mile from our destination.  The walk was not bad.  Compared to our other experiences in Singapore, it was not too hot or too humid.  Nonetheless, it was still hot and humid.

We made only one wrong turn at a fork which was not marked.  We did not mind the loss of time [minimal], but the path we had not taken was the one which went up hill.  There was no way to avoid it and we were able to see civilization in the form of a café from the top of the hill.  This was just what we needed – iced cappuccinos, air conditioning and bathrooms.  Our rest stop completed, we proceeded to walk the last 300 meters to the Orchid Garden.

By this time, it was a bit past noon, so we chose to eat lunch before seeing the Orchids.  Just outside the Orchid Garden and the Ginger Garden is Halia, a restaurant where we had eaten in 2008, our last visit to Singapore.  At that time, almost every item on the menu utilized ginger in some way.  The menu has changed and there are fewer gingered items available, but we still had a delightful lunch.  MA had a selection of cheese pillows, fried dumplings with lemon cheese, tomato cheese and gorgonzola.  D had an assortment of sausages accompanied by ginger-berry chutney and an eggplant dip.  An order of truffle fries was shared.  And MA had a ginger-infused iced tea.  While we ate, we saw the ship’s captain wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, definitely out of uniform.

After paying a $1SIN entry fee, we walked through the orchids.  It seemed hotter and more humid and we made quite a few stops along the way to cool off and catch our breath.  The flowers were as lovely as we remembered and we were glad we had come despite the long walk.

When we had seen and photographed as many orchids we could, we went back to the little plaza where we had had the cappuccinos earlier.  There was no way we were walking back across the park to catch the MRT.  Instead, we went out of the complex and took our place in the taxi queue.  We realized as we did this that we had come in this entrance last time.

We weren’t dead yet, so we had the cabbie take us to Arab Street.  One of several ethnic neighborhoods in Singapore, it is a hotbed of cafes serving all types of food from the Arabian Peninsula and textile shops.  There were a few places where ready-to-wear clothing was available, but most of the shops were selling fabric from bolts on display on the sidewalk and in the stores.  It was a dazzling array of colors, patterns and materials but not of much interest to us.

We did not spend too much time in the Arab Street area, just long enough to walk two streets and see the exterior of a golden-domed mosque which was being renovated.  We got directions to the closest MRT station which was farther away than we had thought [hoped?] and dragged ourselves another half-mile or so to the station.

It was just like the station at Harbourfront – large and long.  We spent a lot of time getting from the entrance to the “nerve center” where the ticket machines, maps and stores were.  We bought tickets and then asked one of the customer service employees about the transfer we had to take.  He suggested a different station than we had planned and it saved us a lot of time.  Of course, we still had a lot of walking ahead of us in the various stations and throngs of people going the other way which made us feel like salmon swimming upstream.

We made the transfer with a minimum of fuss, just more walking and escalators.  Once back to the Harbourfront station, we got a bit lost and did not exit anywhere near where we had entered this morning.  The difficulty arose because we were on the Orange Line in the morning but the Purple Line in the afternoon.  They are on different underground levels.  Had we followed the signs to the Orange Line, we would have saved time and more walking.  Instead, we found ourselves in a large – really large – upscale mall.  We had to go outside, cross the street and enter the shopping area in the terminal building.  Eventually, we returned to our cabin, home for the past 2 months.

Singapore represents “the hump” of the trip; it will all be downhill from here because we have passed the half-way point and are heading home.  While we were in Indonesia, there was a twelve-hour time difference with the US east coast, but now it is a thirteen-hour difference.  Soon, the hours will melt away until we are back in Florida.

We went to Pub Trivia, of course, and then back to the cabin to shower off the Singapore humidity.  We had decided months ago that we would eat dinner at Clarke Quay on the Singapore River.  Our DIL introduced it to us before our first visit and we have gone there on each return.  After changing clothes, we headed back through the terminal to the taxi stand.  Although there is a Clark Quay stop on the MRT, we think it is a few blocks from CQ itself and we did not want to face more walking tonight.  By comparison, the thirty-minute wait in the queue for a taxi was a walk in the park.

When you are in a strange city, especially at night, you are at the mercy of the cabbies.  In Singapore, however, there is nothing to worry about.  The drivers are scrupulously honest and do not take the roundabout route to the destination.  All cabs have meters, rates are uniform and tipping is not permitted.  Our ride to dinner took us through areas we did not recognize but which showed us some of the “real” Singapore rather than just the soaring skyscrapers.

We drove through Chinatown, a neighborhood we have yet to visit [we were too tired today].  The roadway was divided and at one point we passed a half-mile [maybe] celebration of the Year of the Goat.  This is the end of Chinese New Year, and the area was ablaze.  The median was filled with translucent goats which were lit from inside.  Over the street we could see strings of red lanterns.  Our only regret was that we had not brought a camera or our phone to capture the experience.

We wandered through Clarke Quay briefly while looking for the Spanish restaurant where we had eaten twice before.  The menu had changed and our favorite appetizer was no longer available, but we ordered well and enjoyed watching tour boats float past our riverside table.  Just for Jon, we split an order of olives and one of fried Emmenthaler cheese.  We also shared “carne” paella which was loaded with chicken, beef and chorizo sausage.  Yummmmm!  To accompany this feast, we each had a glass of red Sangria.

The taxi ride back seemed quicker and we navigated the shopping concourse well-enough to return home a few minutes before 10 just as many of our stewards were in the terminal using the free wi-fi to call their families. 

TOMORROW –One half day in the Emerald City

Actually, the half-day in Singapore was spent on the ship.  We stayed in the cabin until 10:15 and almost missed breakfast in the Lido.  With three more port days in the next three days, resting and saving our energy was more important than walking through the terminal again.  Some day we may get to Chinatown, but not this trip.

So….it became a sea day, of sorts.  Rest, read, crossword puzzle, trivia.  D did go over to the terminal shopping center to spend the remaining Singapore dollars.  Exchanging them would only incur an even less favorable rate than what he bought them for.  Our 25 dollars bought 24 cans of Coke Zero and a container of pretzels.  The chump change that was left over will go into the grandsons’ collection with the loose change from everywhere else.

Tonight was being celebrated as Purim, the holiday inspired by the Book of Esther.  It is a minor holiday in the Jewish calendar but one of the few which is happy.  Oft quoted is the Jewish philosophy, “They tried to kill us; we won; let’s eat.”  And on Purim, “Let’s drink.”  Arthur’s Purim service was a day late but no one would have come yesterday when we had all night in Singapore. He invited not only the congregants who come to Friday night services but also anyone else he has talked to. The affair was not so much a service as a story-telling during which he read an abridged version of the story of Esther, her brother Mordecai and the evil Haman.  Following the custom, everyone use noise makers [salvaged from the Super Bowl party] whenever Haman’s name was mentioned.  Raucous only begins to describe it. After the reading, attendees were invited to partake of hamantashen [a Purim cookie named after Haman’s three-cornered hat] and wine.  Then we marched around Deck 5 in costume making fools of ourselves.  MA wore Emily’s Cookie Monster costume and D wore a jester’s hat, matching bow tie and a vest he “borrowed” from the dining room staff.

After the parade, we returned to the room to make a quick change for dinner where D returned the vest.  It may have been marked XL but Indonesian XL is neither extra nor large.

There was a pianist who performed a variety of classical and popular pieces in the theater after dinner.  Some of the selections were from a television score he wrote in China, his native country.  Others were from Andrew Lloyd Webber, Chopin and Italian opera composers.  The house band was present but not obnoxious for a change.

And so to bed for an early departure tomorrow.

TOMORROW – Kuala Lumpur

 

 

Feb 28 – A Day at Sea

We spent today cruising from the island of Bali to the island of Java.  Indonesia is made up of over 3000 islands of which more than 600 are inhabited.  Although Bali’s principal religion is Hindu, Indonesia has the largest Muslim population in the world.  Tomorrow we will be in Semarang and then Jakarta, the capital. 

As for today, we followed the regular sea day routine.

TOMORROW – Semarang, Java, Indonesia

March 1 – A Sea Day in Port

Semarang, Indonesia, is used as the gateway to Borobudur, the world’s largest Buddhist temple. Unlike the temples we have seen this week and on past journeys, Borobudur is built as a spiral with ever-decreasing diameters.  The temple is shaped like a flattened cone.  Carvings fill the walls and the top is full of stupas, the bell-shaped domes seen in temples in Thailand and Cambodia.  The steps leading to this spiral path are quite deep and can be difficult to climb, especially for the elderly passengers who filled about 20 buses for this shore excursion.  While the ramp which goes to the top does not appear steep, descending the “long and winding road” can be hard on the knees and legs. 

Getting to Borobudur from Semarang is a challenge in itself.  The temple is slightly less than 60 miles from the port, but the ride can take two or more hours.  The road surface is not good and the traffic is horrible.  When the cruise ship tours caravan to and from Borobudur, they have a police escort to make sure they get to and from the temple safely.  Sometimes the police direct the buses to go the wrong way – against traffic – to avoid congestion.  The port lecturer says that for many passengers, that is the most exciting part of the trip.

That’s all well and good, but we didn’t go to Borobudur today for several reasons.  The second reason is that it would have meant leaving the ship before dawn; as proof, dining room staff were delivering room service meals at 4:30 in the morning.  There was no way we were getting up that early because, [reason number 1], we had been here before. 

It must have been in 2009 when we visited Jon and his family.  We flew from Jakarta to Jogjakarta, a flight of about an hour to an hour and a half.  D was sick as a dog and spent most of the time in the hotel, but MA went to see the temple with the others.  When they climbed up, she sat down and was eventually interviewed by two school girls who were practicing their English.  As a “thank you,” the girls gave her a wooden carving of the temple which sits on the coffee table in our den.

We opted not to join Ken and Lois’s group tour of Semarang and stayed on the ship where we could relax, send email to tour guides and do some laundry.  An empty cruise ship is a delight because all of the essential services are still available but in limited supply.  There was, for example, no danger of starving even though the MDR was closed for lunch and only one side of the Lido buffet was available.  The burger bar and ice cream station were both fully manned – who could ask for anything more?

Ken and Lois were back in time for trivia, so it really was a sea day in port.

TOMORROW – Revisiting Jakarta

Mar 2 – Ken and Lois and D and MA’s Excellent Adventure

Jakarta is one of the world’s largest cities with a population over 23 million people.  The smog is like Los Angeles’s [auto pollution combined with wood smoke] and traffic congestion is a way of life.  We docked at the port of Tanjian Priok, a container port, since there is no passenger terminal.  HAL ran a shuttle to the closest shopping mall but estimated the one-way travel time as one hour.

Our plans were simple.  We wanted to get a car to take us to the Café Batavia in the Old Harbor area of the city.  We thought about just taking a Bluebird taxi because they have meters, but one of the waiters said his brother could take us.  This was an even better plan, we thought, because the driver would not try to gyp us especially when he knew that we would see his brother every day for the next 2 months.

We spent some time after breakfast trying to find two of the dining stewards.  We had a present for Mukti and Julianti’s new baby which we eventually left with Kadek because we could not find Mukti.  We also had money for Yuda, our dinner assistant, which he had returned with the request that we present it to his mother when she visited today.  We did eventually meet up so we could meet his mother, smile politely in different languages and pose for pictures.  Then it was time to go.

We met Lois and Ken outside our room and disembarked, finding Ricky the waiter with no difficulty.  He introduced us to his brother Denny and we started for the car.  Since personal vehicles were not allowed into the dock area, we had to walk about a third of a mile to the car where we were shown into the mini-mini-van and a new person climbed behind the wheel.  Ricky speaks excellent English; he told us his brother spoke limited English; and we discovered that the driver spoke no English.  We christened him Phred in honor of a Doonesbury character from the 1970s.

It was just as well that we had made these arrangements because there were no taxis at the port entrance.  Even if we had trudged all the way to the adjacent road, we would have been out of luck.

We knew that the ride would be long, so, when we had not reached Café Batavia in 90 minutes, we were not too worried.  By the time we hit the 2 hour mark at 12:30, we got nervous.  If it took 2 hours to get there and back, we would not have as leisurely a lunch as we had hoped.  Phred stopped so we could shop in a pedestrian mall at the Old Harbor, but we said “no.”  We saw the sign for the café right after that and followed the arrow toward lunch.

We never got there.  Phred turned again when he probably should have gone straight, but we had no way to tell him that he had made a mistake.  His English was limited to “Sorry, mister” which he said repeatedly to Ken who was riding in the front seat.  Although he stopped to ask for directions, he had no idea where he was or where he was going. He even tried to take us to Starbucks, KFC and a Chinese restaurant.  So we circled around Jakarta for another half hour until we decided to forget lunch.  It was already 1 o’clock and we were envisioning another 2 hours in the car.  We made it clear through sign language that we wanted to return to the ship.  Instead of taking the highways he had taken on the way in, Phred took back roads and had us home in 30 minutes including a gas and “comfort” stop!

As we were circling through downtown Jakarta, D had been texting Ricky who was home with his family.  We hated to ruin his one-day visit but thought he ought to know what was happening.  Even though it was not his fault, he accepted responsibility and told us not to pay the driver, that he would take care of it. There was a lot of back-and-forth, but we paid Phred 300000 rupiah – about 24 dollars – and waved him off.

As we were walking across the parking lot, Mukti called to us.  He brought Yulianti and the baby over for introductions and photos.  MA and Yulianti are Facebook friends, so she was glad to finally meet Mukti’s wife. 

Our Indonesian lunch turned out to be hamburgers from the burger bar.  We didn’t even have ice cream.  On the other hand, we have been laughing about our adventure all day, further proof that it is the bad guides and bad tours we remember most vividly.

TOMORROW -- A sea day at sea