A Short Break in Multi-ethnic Penang

Driving in from the airport, my first impression of Penang is of the soaring apartment blocks. Wow! How many storeys is that, and what if there’s a power cut? (I learn later that Malaysia’s second city has 40 skyscrapers more than 150 metres tall, and that the highest has 68 storeys — far more than any residential building in mainland Europe.)

Finally, we approach central George Town, the low-rise historic centre named after George III that was awarded UNESCO World Heritage status in 2008 for its "unique architectural and cultural townscape" shaped by centuries of intermingling between cultures and religions.

Here are handsome churches and white stucco colonial buildings re-purposed since the British left in 1957. There is Fort Cornwallis, established in 1785 by Captain Francis Light of the East India Company, a statue to Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee, and here and there are tubular red pillar-boxes familiar to people of Britain and its former empire who grew up when people still sent letters with postage stamps.

Staying at the peculiarly named Very Hotel in George Town, I am delighted by the free-standing claw-footed bathtub, the separate curtained WC area and rain shower, and the solid modern table-shelf bearing an ancient globe of the world and a small pile of old books for perusal. These include Biggles on Mystery Island by Captain W. E. Johns. I haven’t read or touched a Biggles book for nigh on six decades. Opening a page at random, it is fascinating to read “‘for goodness sake,’ broke in Algy impatiently. ‘What’s all this rot about sharks?’”. I am sorely tempted to take the volume with me.

Colourful temple lanterns against a backdrop of high-rises.

My only previous experience of Malaysia has been a couple of business visits to Kuala Lumpur 15 or so years ago, plus daytrips to lovely Malacca (which shares with Penang some colonial history). Of KL, no doubt unfairly, I remember little more than getting soaked with sweat while walking the short distance between my hotel and the Petronas Towers. Penang, I think and hope, will be very different from KL.

And indeed, George Town, a main focus of interest for tourists on Penang Island (population c. 800,000), does differ from the capital and country as a whole not only in its impressive buildings but also by its ethnic composition. Nationally, around 70% of the people are Malay/Bumiputera, 23% are of Chinese origin and 7% Indian. In Penang, ethnic Chinese (c. 45%) slightly outnumber the Malays, while nearly 10% are of Indian origin.

The Very Hotel is situated in George Town’s Little India where shops and restaurants remain open far longer in the evening than in the adjacent Chinese or Malay sectors. So too is the Bishop Hotel to which I moved after a night because of a screw-up in my booking. (My room there was defined as a “Luxury Queen”, despite having no window, the owners having apparently divided many rooms to double capacity.) The Kapitan, a popular local restaurant offering Indian food, remains open until 2am – hours after Chinese or Malay restaurants have closed.

One of the quintessentially British tubular red pillar-boxes.

After checking into the Very Hotel, I ask for a map for them to show me where I might go for an interesting walk, have a drink, and eat a meal. The response of the two staff makes me feel very old: I should use Google Maps. Then I remember I’ve picked up a paper map at the airport. I show that to them, but they are unable to use it – even to locate the hotel itself. For many young people, printed paper is out.

Heading out with my map towards the waterfront, I am attracted by festive lights and loud music that I discover are emanating from Fort Cornwallis itself, dwarfed by the Anthem of the Seas, a Quantum class cruise liner operated by Royal Caribbean.

Currently having its moat restored, the Fort is open to the public tonight for a closing celebration of the Chinese New Year. There is a free programme of singers and dancers introduced by an enthusiastic emcee. (“And now please give a warm welcome to the LED dragon!”) Surrounding food stalls and booths demonstrate calligraphy, the art of paper-cutting, painting, theatre arts, and so on.

Performers at the Fort Cornwallis Chinese New Year celebrations.

I treat myself to barbecued skewers of lamb, beef and chicken, and to two scoops of ice-cream — matcha and coconut — made by the seller and his girlfriend. The event is heavily oriented to families and couples who content themselves with fruit juices or smoothies, but cans of Heineken beer are available to a degenerate solo traveller from a van situated discreetly on the edge of the festivities.

On my second day, to make the most of my lovely room at the Very, I soak in the claw-footed bath for an hour in the morning, listening to a BBC podcast, before brunching on a delicious clay-pot meal of rice and beef in the nearby Sri Weld food court (cost: under US$ 2).

Then back to Fort Cornwallis for a personal guided tour by a retired teacher of Indian stock. He shows me round in detail, describing the huge cannon used by the British to ward off possible pirate ships. And says that the statue supposedly of Francis Light is in fact based on the face and figure of his son Colonel William Light, who founded the city of Adelaide in Australia in 1836. No portrait of Francis was ever made from life.

One of the 200-year-old cannons at Fort Cornwallis.

When I ask my guide how the different ethnic communities get on in Penang, he says resentfully that the majority Malays are preferred for good jobs, irrespective of merit. While Malaysia boasts of being an example of peaceful diversity and harmony – with mosques, temples and churches often sitting alongside each other – it seems to be more a question of resigned coexistence than integration. A taxi driver I speak to later mimes handcuffs to indicate that any hostility between the ethnic groups is strictly stamped upon.

My plan for the afternoon has been to get a Grab car to visit Penang Hill, a few miles outside Georgetown, where a funicular railway rises to a spectacular view. No car responds to my call. The tourist office advises taking a bus, but many services have ground to a halt because of the Indian Thaipusam festival. This first day involves parades, fireworks and ritual mass breakings of coconuts.

As the Penang State Museum is closed — an announcement outside saying that it is under restoration and will reopen “by 2024” was clearly over-optimistic — I visit the nearby Chew Jetty, where members of the Indian community live in wooden shacks and sell goods and services on a photogenic pier projecting into the sea. Just as I decide to take a boat trip around the harbour, the boatsman knocks off for the day, presumably to party.

A mural on one of the residential buildings at Chew Jetty.

On my way back from the pier, I discover that the busses have started running again — at least slowly. I take my chance. Crawling through traffic jams, Indian parades and scenes of Indians breaking coconuts, my 204 bus (fare: two ringgit) takes nearly two hours to get to the bottom of Penang Hill. Luckily, I can still take the funicular train — a newish model made in Switzerland, succeeding three older generations — and reach the top and its wonderful views before night falls. Unfortunately, the botanical garden is already closed, and it is too late to take a recommended walk.

On my third day, following advice from the excellent night receptionist (from Pakistan) at the Bishop Hotel, I shred plans to take a budget tour of Penang in favour of boarding the 101 bus to Penang’s National Park — the smallest such protected area in the world (or second smallest, if you include the sea area demarcated to protect turtles and dolphins).

There I am delighted to discover one perk of being old in Penang — free entry to the park for the over-65s.

Enjoying the greenery and fresh air of the National Park.

Though most visitors climb up and down through the rain forest before paying dearly to return by boat if they feel too tired to retrace their steps, I am persuaded to do the journey in reverse. It is very pleasant to be the only passenger on the boat and to receive a personal lecture on the park from the sea.

Dropping me on a beach that houses a turtle sanctuary, the boatsman points out what look like tractor tracks on the sand, but which are in fact the flipper prints of mother turtles crawling on to the beach to lay eggs. The sanctuary gathers and protects the baby turtles when they hatch. I see dozens of them in an indoor paddling pool adjacent to another where an injured adult is recovering.

Crossing the end of the island to the main entrance entails much climbing and descending to the sound of birds and the chattering of monkeys. I pass a rare meromictic lake composed of both fresh and sea water, and giant trees that have survived logging.

Part of the extensive Kek Lok Si temple complex.

Back at the entrance I order a Grab car to the largest Buddhist temple complex in Malaysia, Kek Lok Si. Started in 1890, the most postcarded part is a handsome white and gold-topped building approachable by a small funicular. The adjacent monastery is festooned with thousands of red lanterns. But beyond and above is a new huge Buddha under his own giant domed canopy, guarded on the mountainside by a vast army of identical Buddhas. To visit that, a second train is offered.

The complex includes a vast souvenir supermarket, and the possibility for tourists and the faithful to buy roof tiles for yet another temple in the making. Petitioners buy coloured ribbons printed with their particular prayers — “Booming business”, “Continuous run of wealth luck”, “Increase in prosperity and longevity”, “Support from eminent people”, “Being together forever” — which they then tie to a bunch already waving in the breeze.

After checking out from the Bishop on my last morning, I return to the Sri Weld food court to try out a food stand mentioned by Michelin in 2023 and 2024 for its production of nasi lemak: the national dish of coconut milk rice with boiled egg, sambal and one of six toppings, the whole wrapped into a green pyramid with a banana leaf.

Preparing nasi lemak in the Sri Weld food court.

On the way to the airport, my Grab driver points out a huge grey concrete building. That is a new facility for Intel, which employs 14,000 people in Malaysia, more than in any country outside the US. But start-up of the new factory has been paused because of Intel’s declining chip sales, and of economic uncertainty following the re-election of Donald Trump. We also discuss Penang’s high-rise architecture, some of which is stylishly post-modern, with echoes of the art deco movement.

Dropped at the airport for a flight to Taiwan, I know I wish to return to Penang. To see more of the street art, visit Cheong Fatt Tzo’s Blue Mansion, the Penang State Art Gallery, and the Penang State Museum – when and if it reopens. Three days were not enough.