When we got back to D&T's from our day at the beach, the night was still young (hot, but young), so we quickly showered, changed our clothes and headed out onto the town. Our destination was the Chinatown section in the center of town known for it's concentration of restaurants, bars, shops and street vendors. We stopped at a convenience store near their apartment to grab some drinks for the walk and when we turned onto the main drag, we collided with a religious parade of some kind.
An old woman on the street explained to Judy what the parade was about, but she didn't speak any English so none of our questions were answered. While not very helpful, and possibly a little crazy, she was certainly nice!
This bike taxi joined the parade.
After watching the parade a while, and taking a few pictures, we continued on our way. Near the end of the street, we thought we were about to get a head of and get away from the parade when the shaman type man leading the parade took a sudden turn right for us. He (and the parade) ended up splitting us up and forcing us to jump out of the way into an empty lot. The shaman, who's cheeks were connected to his nose by a rod, turned into us and paused the parade's progress to hammer a stake into the base of a large tree in the empty lot which was then lit on fire. We were clueless...
Dodging the parade, we were forced to get under the same tree the shaman blessed (maybe?). The influx of people into the lot and under the tree scared the mass of birds perched/living in the tree, which initiated a bird shit storm.
Dave and Judy, the poor saps, ended up being shat on!
The clean up
Outside of the mall.
An Easter display?
Dave and his new friend
In a parking lot, near the mall, a small night market opened up selling the usual crap, but there was one tent that sold pets! There were scorpions, snakes, lizards, spiders and various rodents. It was sad and scary and awesome.
Jonker Street
Jonker Street is the center street of Malacca's Chinatown, which on weekend nights fills with street vendors hawking all sorts of crazy things, from food to gadgets to handicrafts.
"Two durian, please!"
Dave and Andrew 'enjoying' their durian pancakes. Dave's expression is pretty accurate. The bites that were just pancake were nice, but when the bite included durian, that nice flavor was difficult to find. The durian's strong flavor took over and left a rotten fish taste in your mouth.
Chips on sticks!
They are good in theory, but you have to use your fingers to rip the potato off the skewer, leaving your hands and your face uncomfortably greasy.
Our last stop of the night was at a small, canal side bar blasting rockabilly hits. No one was really hungry, but they had a menu, so Andrew decided on a fried noodle dish. It was far saltier than it needed to be, but still pretty delicious.
From this point in the city, we were only 87 Kilometers from Port Dickson, where we spent the day, and a mere 10632 Kilometers from London. Good to know.
We decided that rather than walking the 20 minutes home, enlisting the services of a bicycle taxi was a much better idea. There were stands around town where these guys would coral and wait for business. The basic design was an old bicycle with a side car welded to it, but each driver's was decorated differently. Some were simpler and some were more extravagant, but all were awesome, and all had a sound sound system blasting American pop music.
Taking the bike taxis was awesome, and a great experience, but it was also sad. Even though it was late at night, the air temperature was no where near comfortable. The music was loud enough to drown out the driver's huffing, but it did nothing to cover the sweat dripping from their backs while they lugged our lazy, fat asses home!
An old woman on the street explained to Judy what the parade was about, but she didn't speak any English so none of our questions were answered. While not very helpful, and possibly a little crazy, she was certainly nice!
This bike taxi joined the parade.After watching the parade a while, and taking a few pictures, we continued on our way. Near the end of the street, we thought we were about to get a head of and get away from the parade when the shaman type man leading the parade took a sudden turn right for us. He (and the parade) ended up splitting us up and forcing us to jump out of the way into an empty lot. The shaman, who's cheeks were connected to his nose by a rod, turned into us and paused the parade's progress to hammer a stake into the base of a large tree in the empty lot which was then lit on fire. We were clueless...
Dodging the parade, we were forced to get under the same tree the shaman blessed (maybe?). The influx of people into the lot and under the tree scared the mass of birds perched/living in the tree, which initiated a bird shit storm. Dave and Judy, the poor saps, ended up being shat on!
The clean up
Outside of the mall.An Easter display?
Dave and his new friendIn a parking lot, near the mall, a small night market opened up selling the usual crap, but there was one tent that sold pets! There were scorpions, snakes, lizards, spiders and various rodents. It was sad and scary and awesome.
Jonker StreetJonker Street is the center street of Malacca's Chinatown, which on weekend nights fills with street vendors hawking all sorts of crazy things, from food to gadgets to handicrafts.
"Two durian, please!"
Dave and Andrew 'enjoying' their durian pancakes. Dave's expression is pretty accurate. The bites that were just pancake were nice, but when the bite included durian, that nice flavor was difficult to find. The durian's strong flavor took over and left a rotten fish taste in your mouth. 
Chips on sticks!
They are good in theory, but you have to use your fingers to rip the potato off the skewer, leaving your hands and your face uncomfortably greasy.
Our last stop of the night was at a small, canal side bar blasting rockabilly hits. No one was really hungry, but they had a menu, so Andrew decided on a fried noodle dish. It was far saltier than it needed to be, but still pretty delicious. 
From this point in the city, we were only 87 Kilometers from Port Dickson, where we spent the day, and a mere 10632 Kilometers from London. Good to know. 
We decided that rather than walking the 20 minutes home, enlisting the services of a bicycle taxi was a much better idea. There were stands around town where these guys would coral and wait for business. The basic design was an old bicycle with a side car welded to it, but each driver's was decorated differently. Some were simpler and some were more extravagant, but all were awesome, and all had a sound sound system blasting American pop music. 
Taking the bike taxis was awesome, and a great experience, but it was also sad. Even though it was late at night, the air temperature was no where near comfortable. The music was loud enough to drown out the driver's huffing, but it did nothing to cover the sweat dripping from their backs while they lugged our lazy, fat asses home! 
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