Hat Yai Isn't So Bad and Georgetown Might Be The Best

We left Phuket ready for anything and after yet another entire day on a bus we arrived in Hat Yai wanting only to shower and eat. We, of course, refused a tuk-tuk at the bus station because the walk was less than 2km to the hotels. Unfortunately we had NO idea which direction to walk in and ended up walking in circles for 20 minutes until we found the right road. Only we didn't know it was the right road. After asking directions from some white people who didn't speak English and thier Thai friend who didn't know where she was, Leighton and I decided to just ask the tuk-tuk man how much it cost to go to the hotel. 
Only 50 baht (~$1.66) later we arrived at Cathay Guest House. It was by far the biggest room we'd ever stayed in. I mean, it must have been a dorm room at some point, but now there were only 2 small beds in it. The bathroom was comical. Overall though it was good. Quiet and immaculately clean beds. We set off into the city to explore and forage. Winner!!
Hat Yai is exciting. It had more going on than most of the places we've been the last month. Lots of good food options and a fun ambience helped, too. We got a good night's sleep and woke up early enough to have a few hours in the city before our noon departure. We changed and spent the last of our baht and had what we assume was our last serving of pork for a while, then piled into the minibus bound for Malaysia: country number 5!

The minibus was fast and the highways in both Thailand and Malaysia are excellent. The only thing that came of it was further evidence that I attract crazy. Crazy comes at me like I've got a big neon sign advertising "free counseling" and "give-a-damns." A few other instances on the trip come to mind, but they aren't as vivid as these.

Case #1: The Other American
So we get in the van and it pulls around the block to another office with more people waiting. In comes the quiet, unassuming Indonesians, the tubby French bar owner and his Thai girlfriend, an elderly Malaysian man, two dowdy German girls, and The Other American. Tall, platinum blond pixie cut hair that's thinning on top, huge sunglasses, and a mouth that gives Julia Roberts a run for her money. Before the door is closed the driver has already yelled at her for putting her feet up and sitting in the wrong seat. She immediately turns around and starts talking to me. Me, the furthest person from her. Not Leighton who's just behind her. She word vomited all over me for the entire hour to the border. At the border some more comes up; Leighton casually plays his 'I'm deaf and don't speak English' game. Lady, by the way, represents all evils of America. Oil company exec in charge of throwing the EPA's fines into the shredder. Hates Obama. Republican who lives in Alaska and probably voted for Palin. Gross.
Oh, and randomly her son lives in Gurnee and down the street from Julie.

Case #2: Angry Malaysian
As we were getting our bags back into the van after immigration there was a Malaysian man wearing an Australian style bush hat who was standing near the car. Was he an official? Attached to the van service? No. He was waiting for me.
"Where are you from?"
"Uhh..." I said, not sure if Malaysia is one of the places, like Vietnam, where I pretend to be a Kiwi. "USA" I just went for it.
"Ohhhh! You lucky, man! You have no problem to come to my country. You come in and travel around and no problems!"
"Yeah, we are lucky. It's nice to come here. I'm excited to visit Malaysia!" I said, oblivious to the giant trap.
"Fuck America! Fuck that place! I go there and they treat me like a criminal. Always check my passport. 'Where you go?' 'Why you go there?' Fuck America! I just want to travel."
"... Yeah, I don't know. It's different there." I stumbled.
"Why?! Why they do that?! What so fucking wrong with my people? You people come here no problem..."

At that point I all but ran for the van door and jumped in. He was still ranting when we pulled away a few minutes later.

So what is that all about? I attract the crazy. Maybe I'm that crazy? No. I'm calm. I don't say anything too insane to strangers...

So then we drove another 2 hours during which time my headphones remained firmly in my ears, although not always on. Best to avoid more vomit from The Other American. We came up to Butterworth and circled around to the ferry port. Then, just as we were getting used to the idea of it, we left mainland Malaysia and floated across the northern mouth of the Straights of Melacca over to Pulau Penang, Penang Island.

Having never heard of Georgetown except from the Lonely Planet I didn't entirely know what to expect. Would it really be the cosmopolitan semi-metro island it claimed? From the ferry our first glimpse said 'yes.' A city! Buildings! Roads! We could see it all: the clock tower rising shyly from the row of pastel-hued colonials lining the dock, the 66 story Komtar office building, endless condo blocks disappearing into the verdant green mountains. It was exciting. I was excited. As excited as I'd been the first time I arrived in Thailand years ago and saw my first towers of limestone and jungle.

Our van dropped us off in the heart of backpackerland. It was there, in Chinatown that we found accommodation at The Stardust Guest House. It was another big room in a quiet upstairs room. The shared bathroom was clean but annoying. Our first of the trip though. They had a strict no clothes washing policy. Leighton and I violated it daily. Ha!

We did heaps in Georgetown. The highlights were the downtown, the tropical rainforest national park, the mall (sooo cold) and the beach. It was a very good week. Everyday we walked for hours and oggled food stalls and sun-drenched boulevards until the daily 4 o'clock rain storm. Then we ran home and hid until the 7 o'clock abatement. We usually had an hour of dry skies to grab some dinner at the Indian place or the roti man or the Chinatown food market that served basically everything else. Then we walked to Little India for some of the best (and cheapest) samosas EVER! Half the nights we had to run back to the guest house in the rain, hiding in doorways and under street food awnings. It all added up to the most adventurous week we've had in a very long time.

The food was a nice change. Instead if the average fried rice or noodles we had been eating for 3 months. With the confluence of so many different cultures came food of every scent, color and texture. The best and mist unique was nasi kandar (kandar rice). Picture a banana leaf piled with rice. On that rice is the sauce from at least three different curries. Completely surrounding the rice is 2-3 kinds of vegetables, each in their own sauce and spice mixture, and whatever meat you want straight from a stew of curry and juice. Squeeze a lime on top and grab some chapati (tortilla chips but better) and pay the man $3. If your stomach doesn't explode at least your tastebuds will.

Pictures to come soon. They tell more of the story and better, anyway.

Kuala Lumpur was next and we were looking forward to the big city. Time for Africa and plenty of Asia left to explore...