Reggie Thomson’s Diary

I was up after the sun, throwing away the chance of better photos. I had some scrambled eggs with beans on toast for breakfast before walking down the road to Bharat tea estate. I should have hitched, really. The clouds were already gathering and it took an hour to walk, with only one photo on the way - of the high rise flats.

I walked into the tea estate and found a pretty flower to put in the picture. There was one where the background all seemed to lead in to the focus without distractions, so I took lots of snaps of it. I walked down the path to find other shots, but decided it was the best place. I returned and waited for the sunshine.

There was a small stall at the roadside, so I treated myself to a cup of hot tea before hitching down to the Lakehouse Hotel in a cement mixer. I’d seen a nice postcard, but the photographer must have had special permission. It was set on a hill, and there was a big “No Photography” sign at the top of the driveway. So I couldn’t find the postcard angle.

I had an ice-cream, then walked back up the road to Habu. A couple gave me a lift up to the Boh Tea estate. They signed on a piece of paper, since I had forgotten to bring my visitor’s book. Again, there was a big sign saying: “No photography for commercial purposes without prior written permission.” I’ll just have to hope that I don’t take anything spectacular here.

For lunch, I had a tea and sandwich. Then I strolled round the paths looking for snaps. The sun occasionally broke through the clouds, but it was mostly overcast. I had to climb down a very steep path to get back to a road, and a gentleman waved me across to a smaller path.

I walked all the way down the road towards Habu. The sun came out briefly, and I thought I might find a jungle scene. One gentleman offered to give me a lift, but I had decided to walk over the mountain. I thanked him, and continued to walk. A few minutes later, the clouds were gathering. Perhaps I should have accepted the lift up to Tanah Rata, to continue with my computer work.

There was a road up to the power station. Just as I got there, the rain started. I ducked under a car shelter, and watched the rain for half an hour. I had forgotten to bring my raincoat and leggings with me. When I came out, it was only spitting. I wasn’t sure of the path, but the steps up beside the waterpipe lead to it. It was slightly muddy, but not impassable. I didn’t take any photos of the falls, and just continued to Tanah Rata.

On the way in, I met some others from the same hostel. They wanted to know how long it would take to do the round trip. I pulled out my camera to see what time I had taken the last photo from near the dairy farm. I bought some biscuits in case I decide to climb the mountain in the early morning.

Back at the hostel, I put the photos on the computer, and sorted out one or two for the homepage. Then I went down to the Indian restaurant for a Mutton Korma with the vegetarian mix. It was great. I chatted to some folks for a while, then typed my diary in the evening. I’m slowly catching up.

It was a little cloudy in the morning. I ate some fruit salad with yogurt for breakfast, then continued with the typing. I was bored by lunchtime, so went down to the Indian restaurant for another meal. This time I added an onion somethingorother to the basic vegetarian meal.

I then took path number four up to the Parit Falls, which weren’t so interesting, and then on past the golf course to Brinchang village. I treated myself to a Cadbury’s crunchy bar and a can of juice. The Sam Poh temple wasn’t very interesting either. I searched for the start of route number two, taking a few wrong turnings, but eventually getting there. It became a thin path along a gentle ridge, but when I came out at a path, it was clear I hadn’t been on the correct path for some time. I met two people who had just come from Gungung Beremban, and they had taken over three hours.

I pressed on, sometimes wondering if I was going the right way. The sun only came out for a few minutes and it was mostly overcast. I couldn’t take any jungle photos. I only took a few snaps of a strange looking insect. It was quite a steep climb up the mountain. I realised I hadn’t brought my compass, whistle or torch with me. I was quite unprepared. It was too hot and sweaty to wear the jumper, so I tied it round my waist. The view from the top was obscured by the clouds.

On the way down trail number 8, I wasn’t sure I was on the right path for most of the time. Adrenalin has a strange way of speeding one up. I even ran at times. Fortunately I came out on path 9, near Robinson Falls. The path back from there was much easier, mostly paved.

For a change, I had a Chinese meal in the evening. Then I watched a movie about an IRA man who goes to America to buy arms. I didn’t really type much of my diary.

I was up slightly late, and scoffed the last of my Hawaiian Crunch before rushing off to meet Nichole. I was ten minutes late. Woops. I waited for a while, then turned to go back to the hotel, but just as I was leaving, she drove up on her motorcycle.

She seemed to want to chat, so we sat near the market. It was a little embarrassing. I am highly noticeable when I’m on my own, but when I’m with a lady, everyone looks. We chatted only for a while. Perhaps Nichole felt the embarrassment, too. She left at 10.15, so I was able to go back to my hotel room and catch up on my computing. I wished I had done that all morning!

I typed another day or two before 11.30, took a quick shower, then packed up to leave. I walked along the Jalan Kuching with a sign for Batu and Highway 1. A gentleman stopped, going to Batu. He dropped me just outside the Batu caves, saying they were worth visiting, and the road to Ipoh was straight ahead.

There were lots of concrete steps up to the entrance to the cave. Although I took some snaps, I find the Hindu images somewhat clumsy in appearance, and not well kept up. Inside, the floor was entirely concreted and there were numerous shrines. The chamber was quite vast, with a small hole at the top. The upper area was open to the sky. People were feeding the monkeys, though the smart monkeys had learnt how to steal to get the whole bag of peanuts.

I asked the guy on the car park gate the way to Ipoh. He said it was the other direction. Hmm. I was confused. So I went to the garage nearby, and they confirmed that I should keep going. I walked about half an hour, stopping for a can of Coca-Cola on the way. Then I came to a sign - for an expressway going up into the mountains. It was the wrong way. I had to walk all the way back to Batu caves. From there, two gentlemen gave me a lift just back to the roundabout for the expressway.

I waited a long time, then decided that this wasn’t the expressway itself, but a dual-carriageway. I walked down to it, and started hitching. Shortly I was in a car with two Indians who had grown up here. They were going all the way up to Ipoh, and could drop me at Tapah. We had a good conversation. They wanted to know all about Northern Ireland. One wanted to argue that humans are basically vegetarian animals. It all made the journey seem very short. We went through several cloudbursts, but the driver assured me that within a few kilometres it would be sunny again. Sure enough, the clouds were heavy but small.

I walked a little way up the road from the expressway interchange to get to a bridge. It was only drizzling but I thought it best to stay out of the rain. A lady stopped for me. She was going all the way up to Tanah Rata. She is currently doing her A-levels, and wants to study Law in London. I suggested she might have to take the Cambridge Proficiency Exam before a law school or university would accept her. I offered to find out more information about schools in England. I figure it might be possible by the internet. As she may have to work to afford it, we talked about ideas for working. I’m not sure there are many opportunities outside Au-pair work or in a restaurant. I can’t think of anything else that people I knew were doing.

There were some Orang Asan natives standing by the roadside, but it was getting dark. They live up in the mountains, and apparently the Malaysian government send them food packets. The lady’s father owns the garage in the middle of town, so that was where I jumped out.

It was raining a little. I put on my raincoat, and walked to Father’s Guesthouse. I had to ask the way several times. At six Ringgit per night, it is one of the cheapest places I’ve stayed in. There are eight beds in the dorm, and I have one near a socket for convenience. What’s more, it has hot showers! I went back into town for an Indian meal. It was excellent - a large plate of rice, lots of vegetables, some naan bread, spices. Mmm. I’ll come back, I’m sure.

There is a common room at Father’s, with a TV. I watched the tail end of an amusing movie, about a lady who seems to attract the attention of half-a-dozen men.

I continued to catch up on the diary in the morning, staying in my room until eleven. I snacked on my Hawaiian oatmeal. It is very delicious. By the time I went out, I was hungry. I had a fish ball soup, that was mediocre. Near the market I noticed a shoe-shine and repair man. It would only cost 3RM to stick my soles back on. The glue from Singapore has become unstuck. A lady sat beside me and started chatting. She helped to translate, when I asked about putting an extra piece of rubber on the other two patches. Altogether it would come to 10RM.

Nicole is a student, though I didn’t quite catch what she was studying. She was waiting for a friend. We chatted while my shoes were being repaired, and arranged to meet again tomorrow at nine. I went back to Merdeka Square to take some snaps of the Sultan Abdul Samad building. This time I ventured onto the cordoned off green, but I still don’t think the shot was any good.

I managed to find the post office shop, and bought some stamps. I posted the letters to Dian and others. In the afternoon, I walked to the Hibiscus garden in the Lake Gardens. The Hibiscus is the national flower of Malaysia. It flowers all year round. I rushed round looking for a flower that stood out. The sun came and went behind clouds. Sometimes I had to rush back to one flower that seemed to have a nice background.

I put 1 ringgit into a Coca-Cola machine - but it didn’t register. When I pressed the button, only 20 sen came back out! I tried putting the sen in. This time it registered it, but when I pressed the return button, nothing came out. I went up to the building in the middle of the garden, complaining about the Coca-Cola machine thief. The gentleman said it was nothing to do with him, but I might like to try the management office. There, they admitted that sometimes the machine causes problems. They returned my money, for which I was grateful. However, I recommended that they put an “out of order” sign on it, so that other unsuspecting tourists were not cheated out of money. To know about a thief and do nothing is to be party to the crime.

I walked round the lake gardens. There were various exercise areas with interesting challenges dotted around the place. I found a quite shelter by the lakeside to take a nap and write some more postcards.

My original plan was to go back to the Twin Towers for the evening photo, but it seemed too far away. I decided to try the National Mosque, since I had seen a photo of it all lit up at night. I went back there, but the sunset photos were poor, and the building wasn’t lit up.

I ate some fried rice in the Central Market, then went shopping. I bought a large bottle of drinking yogurt - it was very nice, even though I am worried about my budgets.

In the hostel, I chatted to two Japanese guys, showing them my homepage. They were quite interested. There seem to be lots of Japanese people in this hostel. I was quite surprised. Maybe it is recommended in a Japanese manual. The lady above me is also Japanese, but she has just come back from Australia, so her English is very good.

I made sure I was up in time to pack everything before a light breakfast. When we were ready to set off, I offered to pay for the phone bill. “It was less than 2RM,” I assured him. “I’m sure it was more,” he said, looking hurt. I was surprised. I had checked the rates carefully - they were written in English. I guess I had said I wouldn’t use the phone until Ronald returned, and had broken my promise when I discovered the call was so cheap. Thus, I had lost his trust, even though I was quite sure it was a cheap local call.

Ronald drove me to the Ayer Kepoh country club where he works. I walked from there to the start of the motorway. I didn’t have too long to wait until two businessmen took me on to Seremban. Then I got a lift very quickly, with a lorry going all the way to K.L. I was there by 11.30 a.m.

I walked in the vague direction of town centre, asking once or twice to make sure. I was a while before I was “on” my map. I found my way to the Backpackers Travellers Lodge in Chinatown. Actually, I had to ask, because it is a tiny door leading up some stairs to the reception. They were full up, but recommended the Backpackers Travellers Inn a short walk away. I took a shortcut via a street market, but it turned out to be the long way round.

There was a bed available in this hostel. I was right next to the door and there was a socket just above me. I took a shower and swapped shirts, hanging the other one up. The hostel is quite security-minded, with a CCTV on the stairwell, and lockers for rent in the dormitories. I put all my stuff in my locker, and then went out for some food.

I got an excellent meal at a small restaurant nearby, though I forgot where it was - I couldn’t find it later. It was somewhere near the Sri Mamariamman Temple. I peered in, but think I’ve seen many similar Hindu temples. Unless there is something special to differentiate this one from the rest, I tend not to go in. The railway station was more interesting. Apparently it is a “Moorish” design, though I have no idea who “Moor” was: someone British, I think. I waited patiently at each photo spot for the sun to shine, but I don’t think my photos were anything special. I even tried copying a shot I had seen on a postcard - my usual source of inspiration.

The Tourist Information office supplied me with several maps, though for the most part, my LonelyPlanet map was sufficient. The nearby national mosque wasn’t particularly inspiring. The Sultan Abdul Samad building was more interesting. Again built by a British architect, it now seems to be a government building or something official - I was turned away at the gate by several uniformed men. I took many photos, but nothing particularly good. The one I put on the homepage was barely adequate.

The Masjid Jamek mosque was pleasant, though my snaps didn’t do it justice. It was a long walk from there to the tourist information centre in an old colonial building. Then I went after a photo of the Petronas Twin Towers, the world’s tallest building. I was surprised that there were so few people around it. If it were fully occupied, I would have imagined more activity. I wonder if it is a building of pride, merely so that those in government can boast that they have the world’s tallest building. I wonder if such huge projects of pride are the real reasons behind the Malaysian economic downturn.

The Marks and Spencer’s in the nearby shopping mall, didn’t have the Dettol talc. However, I discovered some Hawaiian Crunch in the large supermarket. There was no All Bran, so this oat-based cereal seemed like a good alternative. I wandered round the park looking for sunset snaps. There were some spherical balls on the parapet of the bridge. It gave me a rare 360 degrees photo, including my own portrait. As the sun began to set, I took some silhouette snaps.

I had seen a postcard of the concrete tower (Menara Kuala Lumpur) at night, so I thought I would go the re. I wasn’t able to get a good snap. Also, I looked back towards the Petronas Twin Towers, and realised they were well lit up. It was a pity I hadn’t stayed there to take more photos. I thought about returning, but I was too tired. I went back to the hotel, stopping at a vegetarian restaurant for some very spicy bean curd.

Browsing through my 112 photos, I didn’t feel I had done very well - only two or three adequate photos. It looks like I shall have to stay another day. I also seem to have gone through a lot of money. I took another shower - it’s great to have the luxury.

I decided that the day would be best spent indoors, typing more of the diary, and accessing the internet. I had sent out my email postcard saying that I had chopped down the albums, but I decided to chop down the Indonesia album too. I wrote some more ideas about the digital photography - but most of them are ideas about composition. I’m not sure there’s much that is specific to the digital camera. The notes help me to clarify the sort of questions I ask myself when taking a photo.

I was on the internet for almost 50 minutes in the morning. I managed to download the new version of CuteFTP and tried it out. The html editor is little more than a coloured version of notepad. It pops up some hints when one types a “<,” but for my purposes, I rarely need to know. I’m only using the most basic of commands.

Lunch was at another restaurant - just 2.50RM for a selection of delicious Chinese dishes with rice. Back home, I washed my clothes and hung them out to dry.

The email to Canon is too difficult. In the end, I didn’t send it. I have too many ideas, and I don’t know how to organise them. Maybe I should send only a few, just to establish contact. My diary is way out of date, still.

When Ronald returned, he suggested we go into town. He bought me the meal this time - at the same street restaurant. Back at home, I continued typing while trying to watch “American History” on VCD. I gave up with the typing. It was an interesting movie.

I gave Ronald a photo in the frame, and signed his visitors’ book.

Ronald invited me to go to church with him - he is a Catholic. He tells me that Muslims are getting more fundamental in Malaysia. However, he wouldn’t come back until 2 p.m. It would probably be better for me to catch up on some typing, so I decided to stay inside, in spite of the good weather. I am now two weeks behind. I asked about using the telephone for a local call to get on the Internet, but since Ronald looked troubled, I said: “It’s O.K. I can wait until the evening.”

So, I typed some of the diary. For lunch, I went to a restaurant and ordered chicken rice, but again the chicken wasn’t so good. In the supermarket, I bought a large bottle of Pepsi, to see me through the day. I’ve been using my own Milo so I don’t impose myself too much on Ronald. In the corner shop near Ronald’s house, I met an Australian lady. She is studying at a school nearby on an exchange.

Ronald returned in the afternoon. A short while later, a friend called on a motorbike. I had forgotten to pass on a message to phone him. Ronald went out again about five. I continued to type. Then I looked in the phone book to find out the cost of the 1515 tm.net connection. I discovered it was only 1.5 sen per minute for the phone call and 1 sen per minute for the internet charge. It was so cheap that I thought it would do no harm to try. I fetched the modem cable, but when I clicked on Jochen’s connection, I discovered that the password hadn’t been saved. I was about to give up, when I remembered that he had sent me a number in an email. I typed it in, and tried. After a minute or so, the computer gave an error message - incorrect password. Well, maybe I’m not supposed to use the internet from here.

I continued to type, but then had a brainwave - maybe I should use lower case on the password. Sure enough, it worked. So, I revamped my Philippine and Borneo photos, removing personal or poor quality snaps. I also put some of the digital photography ideas onto the net, in preparation for writing to Canon about the camera. Then I spent about forty minutes on the internet, getting the pages up-to-date. I also had to change the redirection on my reggie.net it seems to be putting an extra / at the end of the address, that made accessing subdirectories impossible - giving a “http://reggie.net/travel//japan/index.htm” not found message.

When Ronald returned later, I told him that I had been on the telephone for a local call costing about 60 sen, which I would pay for. He didn’t say anything, but I noticed he didn’t talk much from then.

The cockerels outside my room started screeching at an early hour. I ate toast and marmalade for breakfast, with a cup of all-in-one-packet coffee. Ronald gave me a set of keys but arranged to meet me at 7.30 p.m. in town. I typed some of my diary for a while before I set off for town. The door has to be locked in three places, and I had just locked the outside gate, when I realised I had forgotten my camera. I’m glad I didn’t get far! I walked and hitched into town. A guy on a motorcycle gave me a lift.

At a chemist shop, I inquired about some ointment for my feet. The lady sold me something for fungal infections. I hope it is the right stuff. I’m sure I have “mizumushi” again, but I have no idea what the English name for it is. Still, the cream seems to take away some of the itchiness. They didn’t have any Dettol Antiseptic talc. It’s funny how Dettol lotion and soap is available here, but not the talc.

Sentosa villa is a small house that the owners have turned into a museum. There isn’t a fixed charge - they ask for a donation. I joined a French couple for a tour. The entrance hall is open to the sky, and we saw round the various rooms. There is even a room for marriages, with an adjoining bedroom. The owner was proud to show off his fathers MBE. How easy it is to buy or confer support - just pass out medals and status symbols to keep the ruled in their place.

There was a “lucky” gong in the hallway. If you make a wish and hit it three times, your wish will come true. I don’t believe in “luck.” If it works, then it is more than luck - it is magic or something worse. I didn’t even try. The owner told several tales of people returning in six months with hampers of food, saying their business had improved or they had had a baby, or the like. I don’t believe in the abuse of statistics. How many times has the gong “failed?” Only the tip of the iceberg can be seen - but that is all we want to talk about. Failure is out of sight.

I wanted to donate 5M$, but only put in 2M$. I think the others put in 10M$. Maybe I am getting stingy. Outside, I tried to find an interesting angle, but couldn’t. It looked like an ordinary house. The owner gave me some mangoes from a tree in the garden.

I wandered into a supermarket on my way to the Chen Hoon Teng Temple. I didn’t buy anything - just browsed to find the prices. The temple and the mosque next door are both under repairs. I wandered through the narrow roads, taking photos of the Chinese-style buildings and a Morris Minor parked outside one.

Near the bridge, I came across an unusual building. On the outside was a painting with writing on it which read: “Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression. This right includes freedom to hold opinion without interference, and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.” It made me think. A “right” that is not policed becomes meaningless. But to police the “right” to freedom of expression is to deny someone the same right. I couldn’t see anyway round this dilemma. I doubt if “right” is the right word.

Inside were more paintings on the walls, done by someone called Charlie Chen, if I remember correctly, during the second world war. I wasn’t allowed to photograph inside, so I can’t remember the Yin and Yang quotation. A further quote amused me: “To lah or not to lah - that is the question in Malaysia.” I wonder what “lah” means.

It was a little early for the photo of Christchurch. It was also slightly cloudy. I took some of the Malaysia youth museum next to it. There were some interesting stripes on the surface of the road, so I crouched down low to use them as lead-ins. I had to wait a long time between snaps, since there was so much traffic. I took some photos of Christchurch. There was a T.V. camera crew interviewing people, so I steered clear of them. Round the corner was a red bui lding. I took some photos. It would have been better to ask someone to stand in the photo. A lady wear ing black went by, but I don’t have the courage.

I went for some chicken rice in the stalls on Jalan Merdeka. The chicken didn’t seem to be fully cooked, so I didn’t eat it. Then I briefly wandered up and down the Merdeka shopping mall, but not looking for anything - more to get out of the heat. There was nowhere to sit, so I went to the ruins of St. Paul’s Church. I wrote a few postcards. Someone came and sat nearby, trying to start up a conversation. I’m afraid I wasn’t in the mood. He eventually apologised for troubling me. I guess most tourists are on holiday. Funny how so many people have the courage to come up to talk to me, but I can’t pluck up courage just to ask someone to be in my photographs.

A band started up down below by the Independence Memorial. I went down to see what was happening. They were just lowering the flag. I didn’t know where to go to get the sunset photo. Also I wasn’t sure where Ronald was supposed to be meeting me. I tried phoning, but there was no reply. The Merdeka shopping centre wasn’t a good place for a sunset shot. I went through the shops and houses on the reclaimed land. They look very nice, but no one is in them. Perhaps this is a feature of the recession - or a reason for it. Often building projects are undertaken on the basis of stable growth or even exponential growth projections.

I walked to the supermarket and bought some more Milo. It comes in 400g packets here. It amazes me why it has to be different from the 300g packets in Indonesia. I also found a photoshop, with a frame for 15RM.

I went to the windmill in Dutch square for the sunset, but think I just missed the best moment. Ronald met me soon afterwards. We had a cheap meal at a stall. I paid for my own - it is easier to know where one stands. A beggar came up, so I watched to see what would happen. Ronald ignored him, and so did I. I wonder why I seemed more deserving of his generous donations than this gentleman did.

Ronald drove me round town, visiting places such as the Portuguese square, before going home.

I put the photos on my computer and did some typing while watching a Scottish movie on the TV. I wasn’t so impressed with it. I don’t think I know my own culture.

We ate some durian. I had smelt it in the fridge. It was an interesting taste, and actually, the smell seemed to be less pungent as soon as I had taken my first bite.

I relished my last hot shower for a few months. The AT&T connection wouldn’t let me on. It means my homepage will have to be left hanging for a while. When I packed my rucksack, I realised that my coat and leggings were missing. At first, I thought I had left them in the Funan centre and would have to go back. However, I pulled everything out and discovered they were right at the bottom.

I left the railway pass behind - it has minus sixty cents left on it. Doris, unfortunately, isn’t able to look after the CDs for me. It means I will have to take them with me and try and post them from somewhere safe. After paying for the bus to An Mo Kio, I only had 85c left. The train fare to Woodlands was 1.40. It looks like I’ll have to hitch.

I walked back to the signpost to the motorway. It was a long wait. Finally, a lorry told me to hop in, and drove me all the way to the Woodlands checkpoint. The new immigration building has only been open for less than a week. There were no problems going through. I spent 80c on a can of Pepsi, and then walked over the causeway.

I went into two banks to check on the rates of exchange. The second one charged less for changing a 100 US$ traveller’s cheque. Then I started hitching. I figured it would be best just to stand at the exit of the causeway. My sign initially read Ayer Hitam and Melaka, but the road sign indicated a few more places in between. I checked with a guy waiting, and wrote a two more signs. The two gentlemen who stopped for me were going just as far as Ayer Hitam. It was their hometown, but they have lived in Singapore for many years.

I decided to go by the coast road, rather than the expressway. I was given a lift to Batu Pahat, the next town. There, I started to walk on the road to Muar. I noticed a lady driver slowing down, then she started to turn right, then pulled over several hundred metres ahead. Maybe she wasn’t stopping for me. Single ladies don’t usually. I walked on, with the sign still out. Another couple stopped, but when I talked to them, it sounded like they would be going out of their way especially for me. I turned them down. A truck pulled over. The driver said he was going to Melaka, so I jumped in. It was just in front of the lady - and she got out of her car to open her boot. I figured she had stopped for me after all. What a pity! You have to stop quickly in Malaysia if you want to pick up a hitchhiker.

The Indian guy chatted, finding out about me, but I couldn’t concentrate. I was wondering what I had missed. He said he would take me by the expressway, as it would be quicker. We were on a small road, and I had some misgivings. However, we stopped at a service area, where he treated me to a hot-dog and bought some mangosteens for me to try out. They were delicious. One or two were past their best, but the white ones were superb.

The driver did a U-turn at the expressway interchange, as he was going on to K.L. I hitched on into town, again wondering if the lady would have taken me all the way to Melaka. I’ll never know. Two gentlemen gave me a lift to St. Peter’s Church. The sun was just beginning to set. I took a few quick snaps, and rushed on. It didn’t look anything special. Next came St. Francis Xavier’s church. It looked better, but was so close to the road that an all-in shot was difficult.

The main town square, with the clock tower and Christ Church, looked good in its red brick, but the low light was obscured by trees. I’ll have to come earlier in the afternoon. A man approached me. “My wife is an invalid. Please give some money to support her. It’s called charity.” I was annoyed. For a start, how would I know if he was telling the truth? Second, he looked perfectly capable of work. I’m not sure what my definition of charity is, but I doubt if it has anything to do with dropping money unconditionally into the hands of able-bodied people who give an unverifiable story.

I then ran up the steps to the ruins of St. Pau l’s church. Though I didn’t think it made a good sun set scene, I could see that just below was a ship. I only need something with a strong form for the sunset photos. I ran back down the steps.

There were some clouds just catching the glow of the sunset. I arranged for them to point in, as part of the focus of the shot. I had to stand on the railings to remove the traffic lights and other distractions.

Walking in the direction of the cheap hotels, I stopped for a bite to eat in a vegetarian restaurant. Then, I walked into a large shopping centre. It seemed quite a contrast to the surrounding area, full of McDonald’s, Mr. Donuts, Benetton and other brand-name shops. In the middle was a Sony display, with several cars, and models showing off cell-phones. I took some snaps of the car, but should have included the models!

Upstairs, I took some more photos. A gentleman started talking to me. He mentioned that sometimes visitors come to stay with him. I didn’t wish to invite myself. Instead, I started to show some of my photographs. He introduced himself as Ronald, and then asked if I would like to stay at his house. I accepted. He drove me first to a small art gallery which becomes a tea shop by night. There I was treated to a broth of coconut milk and oatmeal. It was very tasty. I learned that Ronald’s ancestry goes back to before 1509 - two years before the Portuguese arrived in Melaka.

At his home, he showed me some of the photographs of people who had visited him. Indeed, he tells me that it has become his hobby to invite backpackers to stay. Since 1983, over 4,800 people have passed through these doors. I was honoured to be among the many. In all that time, he has never had a problem.

His house is quite simple, but very adequate. We watched the movie “Grease.” I tried to do some computer work, but was too tired. My feet are also very itchy. I will have to sort out this problem. In Japanese, it is called “mizumushi” but I don’t know the name in English.

It was a day for catching up on the computing again. I stayed inside most of the time. When I needed a break, I would read the third book on Welfare Reform. It seems to be the better of the books, with a variety of authors. Unconditional welfare creates dependency. Minimum wages price unskilled workers out of a job. The trillions of dollars spent on welfare in the U.S. have not improved the situation for the poor.

I’ve made an album of my favourite photos from the first half of my travels. Maybe it is better for busy people, and also for showing to folks when I am busy.

Chris came back to look after Eamon while Doris went for a check-up. In the evening, I took my camera with me to Doris’ mum’s, and showed some of the photos. I’m not sure they were so interested. I gave Doris’ mother a photo of Bali, though I think I should have bought a frame for it. She seemed pleased.

In the evening, I gave Doris and Chris the photo of the snow in Japan, and also left them the two books I have finished. It’s a pity I didn’t have time to review them. I tried to update my homepage, but half-way through the line got chopped, and I couldn’t reconnect.