Churches and history

Day 59 – Malacca/Melaka, Malaysia

Today was “be a tourist” day. I went to visit the main tourist attractions of the city.

Well, the downside of being European and keen on visiting old buildings, is that looking at 16th century walls in ruins masquerading as St Paul Church leaves you underwhelmed. I’m used to visiting older churches, still standing, with their statuary and stained-glass windows, carved pillars and soaring arches.

I’m a snob.

At least, there is a collection of metal tombstones, written in old Dutch and sometimes Latin, with dates from the 17th century (since Malacca was taken first by the Portuguese, then by the Dutch, then the British arrived and got it, then… I think the next step was independence).

But let’s go back to the beginning.

I walked first past St Francis Church, which is closed to the public, or at least, has a very well-hidden entrance.

I arrived via a street lined with red houses to Dutch Square, where the red-building theme continues with the Clock Tower, the Stadthuys (City Hall in Dutch), Christ Church, and Victoria Fountain. Oh, and a windmill.

There are also the ubiquitous trishaws, the tricked-out tricycles I wrote about yesterday.

Christ Church is nothing exceptional, but at least one can go in.

I went up the hill in the direction of St Paul Church, built by the Portuguese. I snapped a few pictures, went down the hill on the other side and walked by A Famosa, the last gate still standing of what was the Portuguese fortress (basically, the hill with the church on top). The fortress was built against the Dutch attacks, and destroyed by the Dutch before it was handed to the British.

After that I went to the Sultanate Palace, which is actually a reproduction of the original palace but was built to serve as museum a few decades ago. According to Wikipedia, it was built without any nails. It contains a few reproduction of the rooms, such as the Sultan’s bedroom and the reception hall, it has also a collection of costumes of the region, weapons, such as the kris, the dagger with a sinuous blade, and dioramas.

I enjoyed the gardens more; though I had forgotten, with my time in the Cameron Highlands, that stingy insects were to be protected from. So after a few minutes on my bench, I looked down my feet to see that I was surrounded by a cloud of midges. Fortunately, I had a lemongrass spray with me; unfortunately, some of the beads of my ankle bracelet didn’t take well to lemongrass oil. I have some reddish stains on my ankle and pinkish beads on my anklet. (It was the cheap one I bought in Thailand; the expensive one, that form the other part of the bracelet, appears to have real red stone beads and not plastic. Speaking of that anklet, it has little bells that serve to announce me wherever I go wearing it. I love it, but I’m not sure how other people around me feel about it.)

My next stop after of few meanderings was the replica of the Flor de la Mar, and the maritime museum. Like in many places in Asia, you take your shoes off when entering the inside of the boat or the museum.

They chose not to reproduce the likely height of the decks in this replica, since I could stand with room to spare. (When I visited another replica of an old ship in Amsterdam, you can bet that I couldn’t stand straight.) They also showed cannons too near the waterline, had put too few gunports, and so on. Oh well, it’s just a replica.

The following museum was a bit poor also (told you I’m a snob, but after the maritime museums in Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Venice, and so on, I know already a lot about sea trade, sailing, and so on).

Thirsty after walking a lot and being in the sun, I went to the nearby “craft center” (read: tourist trap), bought a big bottle of water and nearly ended it in less than an hour. I still marvel at how much the body can get dehydrated and absorb in a short amount of time, because where in cooler temperatures I would have made beeline to the nearest bathroom, here there was no need.

Back at the hostel, I met my new roommate, a German woman, went out again to do some laundry, and later that night met the second roommate, an Indian man. He made me play 20 questions to find out where he was from, the prize being a drink of Malaysian whisky he had acquired during his travel. Since I don’t drink, the prize was to be given to the German roommate. Travelling can be fun!

As usual, the full complement of pictures of the day can be found in the gallery. Discover Oliver the Bulldozer, the horses on the wall, the windmill, and other (super)heroes of the day.