The Discovery Guest House could not be better situated -- right by the river in the heart of the old town of Melaka, which is the kind of place you can fall in love with. Maybe I'm just feeling that way because I've had a few beers with Teng, the Discovery's genial host, and a slapup banana leaf meal at a restaurant a few paces away. Tonight, the Discovery celebrates Deepavali, which is a holiday here. I am not so good at parties in places I do not belong, but I will loaf around and hope to latch onto a group.
I am looking at my photo of Zenella and the twins. How soft and fragile Naughtyman looks. And how beautiful my girls are. I wonder how my dad must have felt when the thrill of parts distant had worn off. Did he look at my photo with the same deep wish that I be well?
***
Even drizzle cannot spoil Melaka's Chinatown, which is quite well kept. It's nice to walk around and soak it in, but I try not to do too much because I plan a big day of walking tomorrow. I stop by a tattoo shop. The guy has a huge pile of books of flash, but nothing that really appeals. He doesn't seem all that keen anyway. Maybe he thinks I look too old and staid for it. I do look old. It has caught up with me in the past couple of years: I have piled weight on and the sun has aged me some. I resolve to lose some pounds, but you can't get younger! I suppose old is something you feel, but I only really feel it when I see others look at me. How desperately vain that makes me sound.
It probably isn't worth the risk to get tattooed, so I walk back down along the river. It's somewhat reminiscent of Suzhou, although prettier (more money spent on it, likely, because there are certainly more tourists here than in China).
***
Teng's friends are discussing the merits of poker against mahjongg. Which they prefer (and isn't it the same for all of us) is a function of which they can make money at). One of them has an enormous wad of notes that he says he has won at stud. You should teach me, I say. Simon, an American guy I have been talking with, wants to play them. He is itching to play poker. Dude, I say, they are probably better than they look, and even if they aren't, they likely deal from the bottom.
Meanwhile Teng is pouring us more beer. He is a generous host. We are wondering whether there is going to be a huge bill at some point -- 'you bought beers for the bar' -- but you can't worry about that when you're downing the Tigers and watching people who, you have to think, don't dance much bop jerkily to Smoke on the water, which the truly bad covers band that is entertaining us is murdering.
All in all, having laid on a buffet too, Teng must have spent a fair bit on his Deepavali celebrations, but I suppose he made a bit too, because I saw one of his minions (there were more people working than celebrating for a lot of the evening, although it took off later in the night) counting a stack of notes. And perhaps the goodwill is worth a lot too. If word gets around that yours is the place to drink, you will, I suppose, reap what you sow.
Shophouse, Melaka
Chinatown street, Melaka
Christ Church, Melaka
Riverside, Melaka
Melaka River looking towards the Discovery Cafe