The Old Island of Penang

I'm sitting in a traditional style Penang house. The cafe is an old house entrance way; the high ceiling fans waft lazily at the heat. There are wooden slats at the windows curved into simple, symmetrical flower patterns, and though the floor in here is covered with faded mosaic tiles I can see the traditional wooden floor high above supported by cross beams. A sign up by the TV reads "please be quiet after 10pm (as walls are very thin)". At the doorway I can see the white knee of another traveller poking out -  he's chosen to sit outside under the arcade that runs the full length of the street. Motorbikes flash past constantly, and a courier dressed in red, white and sky blue pops stops by to deliver some post.The friendly old Chinese waiter, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt  brings me my sweet lime juice and skims busily round the empty tables, finding old stains to wash out.

Penang is different from everywhere I've been so far in that it feels very lived in. Old style Chinese houses are everywhere with their plaster crumbling and their wooden shutters hanging off. The ones that have been well kept are cool caverns full of dark wood floors and panels; the doors are always open and a family is always sitting chatting inside. This island has UNESCO world-heritage status, and you can't help feeling that  the town has preserved something more than buildings. There are actual long-running business here- a walk down Love Lane onto the main street reveals small shops of locksmiths, printers, pawn shops and shops selling a variety of merchandise including car parts, mirrors and jewellery.

As I walk down Muntri Street towards Little India, there is a banner saying "SOS - Save our strays!" referring to the stray dogs and cats that lounge about the town eating the restaurant cast-offs. This town's 'Little India' is the best I've seen so far. Small shops blast out Bollywood hits and the air is clouded with the smoky smell of incense, which mixes pleasantly with the car exhaust. On the floor are faded chalk flowers and broken coconut shells left over from Thaipusam.  I soon learn that I can buy delicious samosas an bahjis from here - and the stall holders are very friendly, helping me pick out what I like. You can also peruse the shops for bolts of embroidered cloth, naan and roti, metal bangles, and the magazine stall has a good stock of the latest Indian trash fiction.

My favourite thing about Penang are the rickshaw drivers. We have them in London, however in London their vehicles are not decorated with flowers, paper windmills and miniature Hindu shrines, or driven by sun-reddened old men with no middle teeth. Some of them also blast out some of the Bollywood hits - or Gangnam Style...