Katja and Arne's travel stories

20.06.15 Malacca

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Katja goes for a run while I turn over. I feel like I’m hungover from a whiskey and cigar party. Quite unfair actually as none of that has been present in ages. 
I have no energy and try to eat a little cereal. After a few spoons I’ve had enough though. Katja goes out looking at the world and we agree I will message her when and if I get on my feet. She’s back before I knew it. Even though it’s probably a couple of hours since she left. She has found a couple of things to buy, strangely enough. She’s exceptionally good at that.

We sleep a little more. She doesn’t get all that good sleep either with me tossing and turning, moaning and grumbling. Then Katja Skype with her dad before we get ready to go out. It’s hot outside. Puh. We look at a few sightseeing elements like the last remnants of the big wall once covering all of Malacca. Built by the Portuguese, upgraded by the Dutch, blown up by the English before returning Malacca to the Dutch again.

After a while we wanted to speed up our travel and got on board one of the many rickshaws in town. They’re a sight for any Hello Kitty or Frozen fetish. The effort put into some of these vehicles are astounding. In darkness they’re even more spectacular as they light up like a Christmas tree on steroids and pouring out all sounds of loud music.

They could have put more spacing in the seat though. The two of us together was a hair sort of breaking the limit. With music blasting from the speakers and a friend on a motorbike that helped get us started and we’re off. We’re going to a popular restaurant, but we struggle a while before we find it. Finally we’re at the door and see the sign:”Ring the bell”. We do and a man comes to the door but don’t open it. We’re asked a few questions and given a few guidelines before we’re let inside. Max six at a table, low voices, no photos are among them. We agree and get a table. The place is very cool. A backyard restaurant with vines growing up towards the sun. Creative artwork on the walls, but I didn’t like the food. Can’t have it all I guess. Bad enough in trying to recuperate by forcing down food, but when it don’t taste that good…

Back out we walked around in the Junker Walk area and looked. It’s insanely hot, but pretty dry. Me being dehydrated feel like I have a forest snail in stead of a tongue. We finish our walk of the area and take a cab back to the hotel. I collapse in bed almost immediately and get some sleep.

For dinner we go to a nearby restaurant that once again has a cool concept, but not so good food. Why? What have I done to deserve this?

We walk back to the room and behold – I fall asleep again.

“A best friend is the only one that walks into your life when the world has walked out.”

―Shannon L. Alder

Author: arnber

Humongen! The big guy! The man, the myth, the legend! And then theres' me. The nice guy in the house. The man without cooking skills, but with five stars on the Playstation. Boss at work, relaxed at home. What you see is what you get. Life is good. I choose it to be.

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