From Penang

Who would've thought it would be such a relief to be in a tourist trap? Even if the sidewalks are lined and punctuated at random with four foot deep pits lined with fetid wastewater and traffic—including bikes, scooters, tour busses, commuter busses, bike taxis, and pedestrians all sharing any given lane—is rather reminiscent of entropy.

But I'm not the ONLY white face. I'm not the only one with blond hair. English is a common denominator, and signs—glorious, blessed signage that's taught me more of the local language [yeah traveler, don't even know what it's called]—are either in Western characters or have Western subscript with Chinese or Arabic script.

I can identify hotels, restaurants, bookshops, and for the first time in a month, I can read a menu! This might not sound like a big thing, but when eating in is almost nonexistent, this gets an ickle frustrating.

I found a used book shop where I bought a couple of Kerouac books and spoke about religion with the proprietor. I will be returning to buy a Lonely Planet and English edition of the Koran.

There are some gorgeous textiles, so it'll be fun to track down a long-sleeve shirt for the trip back, and the street food is killer. Especially if you're not walking in the street and happen into one of the moat-like gutter pits. Photos forthcoming. For now, there's a waterfront to find, lunch to track down, and a reflexology studio that was calling....