Cardamon, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme?
No, just cardamon. It's the recurring scent of Kuah.
I don't know why or how, but it's light and carries on the breeze. When you're within a block of some restaurants you can tell. The scent is delicate and wonderful. Which is amazing. At home it's used with a heavy hand and seems...(ob)noxious. Here it's light handed and subtle. Tasty, too.
I awoke this morning in a sour mood. Poor sleep. My mood soured when I completely botched the NYT Connections puzzle. Ugh.
Breakfast helped sweeten things a bit. I wanted mee goreng with a fried egg. But after days of walking around looking for places and swearing a rad beyond profusely, I wanted to limit my walking a bit.
Back to the banana roti place for this, instead,
The eggs are fried inside the cooking bread.
I broke the yolks before remembering to snap a pic.
Chewy bread, perfectly cooked eggs. Sambal. Yummy.
I was still hungry. I ordered a roti pisang - banana roti. Today it just came with 'treacle blanc.' Good thing I still had some sambal.
As I was finishing a dude walked up. Wearing a hat that said: " ANADA." And, I knew he was gonna ask me for something. He did. He's a sail bum. That was not hard to guess. And, after 30 days sailing across the Indian Ocean from somewhere (he kept saying something like Herat. But Afghanistan is landlocked?!?) He needed to do laundry. I was ready to give him all the change he needed to shoe him away. Sens coins collect like dust bunnies.
Not that simple. Something about QR codes and phones. He was prepared to pay a few bucks to use my phone. "Let me finish up breakfast and I'll come see what I can do." Yeah, I truly thought about bailing. A lot. But...
It turns out that laundry mats here do not take coins. Indeed, you do scan a code and use your choice of E-cash apps. Not only that, the machines self-dispense detergent, softener, color stabilizers, and all manner of washing chemicals. Huh. After a few hiccups, I loaded RM10 onto his machine.
I declined his money. I mean, $2.25 to help out somebody is not a big deal. And, people here have been friendly to me. Plus, us Vagabonds gotta stick together.
Turns out Jeff has circumnavigated (the globe, of course) 3 times. Been at sea a lot. Seen a lot too. Was married to a Finn, lived in German, generally hands in Taiwan these days and has spent a lot of time in Malaysia.
We told each other stories of mutual places. Richards Bay, South Africa; Cartegena, Columbia; Kusadasi, Turkey; Florida; California. Turns out, he gets around. I guess I do too.
Finished up, it was time to stop sweating. I headed back to the hotel. Time with John Dortmunder and the string.
Lunch was nasi ayam, again. The broth served with the meal was ever so delicately flavored with a sweet essence of gelangal and cardamon. Then more Dortmunder time.
For dinner I decided to find mee goreng. #Fail.
Instead, I just walked around and re-visited the area that had surrounded the night market. The hawker centers and restaurants had been closed that evening. I thought some might be open. Many worry. But most were nasi campur - buffet style. Outdoor buffet style. I'm not that bold yet.
There seems to be a permanent place associated with the hawker centers where I had the pork rice. The menu board was only in Chinese. But the sound of a honest wok (and thus "wok hei") is a powerful call.
Unctuous is the best way. Literally melt in your mouth pork fat. Oh my. Mind blowing. Happy, happy.
The evening had a pleasant breeze. So I strolled down to the water:
But I won't crop it out. It was part of the place and moment.
The place and moment were nice, in spite of the litter.
The breeze was even better there. I read for a bit. Sitting on a concrete curb started to bite into my bony ass. What, I can't be fat and have a bony ass too?
Back to the room for a tepid shower.
Tomorrow I fly to KL. Wednesday I head for home - with a 22 hour layover in Tokyo. I arrive at NRT. (And, will get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.) I leave from Haneda. It's a 90 minute bus ride. I have a hotel near Haneda. I hope to arrive in SFO without cankles or crankiness.
Not such a sour day after all. I think I could live in this country.
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