Smells like a toilet, tastes like heaven
Trip Start
Nov 01, 2004
1
3
51
Trip End
??? ??, 2006
Melaka,
Malaysia
Monday, November 8, 2004
On our first night here we went for a few drinks to the Discovery Cafe where we discovered the worst band in the world. We couldn't even recognise some Bob Marley songs they were playing. You name it and Gaffa and Uncle Benni can kill it. It was still lashing rain at 2 in the morning but we had to risk drowning in an effort to escape the band.
The next night we went to a satay restaurant where you get loads of raw meat and vegetable kebabs for about 10 cent each and cook them in a boiling pot of satay sauce in the middle of your table
Brian and Friend
. Very nice. There we got talking to Angie, the owner of the restaurant, and Murali, the local tourism expert and self-proclaimed mate of the Prime Minister. He also happened to be best mates with the owner of the Discovery Cafe so off we all went for some more beer and bad music. Two nights in a row! Gaffa and Uncle Benni must think we're their biggest fans.At some stage during the night Angie and Murali found out that we hadn't tasted Durian fruit yet. This big, green, spiky fruit smells like a toilet and tastes like heaven according to the locals. So it was agreed that they would pick us up the next day at noon to go eat some Durian fruit.
Unlike most drunken plans this one came to fruition (sorry!). At noon the four of us set off in search of Durian. Two hours later we're still cruising the out-skirts of Melaka looking for fruit stalls selling Durian. I suspect most of them had it but Angie and Murali were just having a laugh. At one stage they decided if we couldn't find it soon we'd get some imported ones in the local Tesco. Thankfully before we got there we found a women with a stall selling Durian. The King of Fruits tasted like custard, not heaven. And it didn't smell too awful.
When not listening to bad musicians or hunting down out of season fruit we've been cycling in the countryside whilst getting devoured by mozzies. Our poor Muslin guide cycled 40 kilometres yesterday whilst fasting for Ramadan which meant he couldn't even have a sip of water. After the trip was over and the sun went down (5.57pm) the three of us went to an Indian bazaar for some food and non-alcoholic drink. I think we may have eaten more than the guide who hadn't eaten since day-break.
