Day 3 begins very late after a night broken up by a deafening generator outside in the street, and the earplugs from the courtesy bag on my flight do not fit my ears. and breakfast becomes lunch at the vege buffet in the market. Comfortably familiar.
Afternoon walk doesn't take me far as down comes the rain. Back to the hotel, where I have spent far too much time. I finally venture out once more and take a walk round the cultural quarter on Jalan sultan which is being pulled down. Beautiful old heritage buildings now squatted, homeless sleeping outside them, cardboard box recyclers eking a living on the corner. My attention is grabbed by a tank of live frogs next to one of snakes, gasping for air, unaware, or are they, of their impending fate in a pan. There are lots of imprisoned animals on this street. Caged birds, puppies in shop windows, looking quite frantic.
I return to the Buddhist temples I knew from the area around Chinatown. Funny how uncaptivating they seem second or even third time around.
The old man who had his barber's chair in he alley by the juice bar is no longer there. I wonder if he has died.
In the evening I wander up tp little India. Sari and silk shops, markets selling replica football shirts. My stomach is feeling dodgy. I get a dhosa and lemon juice, but don't feel much like eating.hope this won't last long.
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You haven't written anything since that day because of absence of the Internet, have you? We are waiting for new adventures!
ReplyDeleteP.S. Like the descriptions and the pictures!
P.P.S. Poor, poor frogs.
ReplyDelete