Somewhere in Melaka...

So we have just left the sleepy, friendly town of Melaka. A historical town which makes a huge contrast to the metropolitan Kuala Lumpur, Melaka has gone through many hands, first a sultanate of itsown, then the Portuguese took over in 1511 but only for 130 years when the (evil) dutch came into the scene, followed by the brits in mid 19th century, and back to the Malays with the independence of Malaysia in 1957. But it is not the old Melaka which impressed us, not its old Portuguese forts and churches or the archaelogical sites which uncover 500-years old portuguese relicas (one of which, a coin, we are now the proud owners of), it is not even the magical little streets with varied colonial styles, home to budhist and hindu temples, churches and mosques, all in one place. It is the live Melaka which captured us and made us stay longer than planned. It is, in fact...

- the person advertising some guesthouse who makes sure that we get to the right bus to town even though we have already something booked elsewhere

- the little chinese lady to whom we ask directions for the bus station on the way back, who actually drives us there in her car!

- Lancelot, the chef, Portuguese descendant (called Portuguis, there are still a couple of thousands of these so-called "bastards of the empire" who speak a very old, simple portuguese), who invites us over to his table and buys us all the drinks and food for the rest of the night and then at 3am drives us home back to the hotel

- Catarina and Ana, the Filipino girls learning to be chef with Lancelot, who want to know every about our countries

- Alfonso, the Portuguis fischerman, amazingly knowledgeable and clever who loves the sea and Melaka and despite having been around the world and having had good offers to stay elsewhere, remains in Melaka, where he knows so well the wind, the currents, the tides and the fish

- Big Ben, owner of one of the local restaurants, wearing a Portuguese football hat, talking about the portuguese football exploits in theWorld Cup which were followed in Melaka in a big screen by all thePortuguis, and who tells very good dirty jokes

- Papa Joe, one of the leaders of the Portuguis community, who recognised me as Portuguese as I was walking down the street and immediately bought us a drink! Joe, who owns a restaurant, plays the guitar and sings old portuguese folkore songs, and has done so on Malaysian TV, for the king and government of Malaysia, and elsewhere in Macau, Germany, etc. but despite hollow invitations, has never managed been to Portugal

- John, a 79-years old Dutch who tells us old stories of Asia and himself - he worked all over Asia since 1947 as a Phillips engineer,and has now settled down in Melaka where he feels more at home than back in Holland

- Mohan, the Indian owner of a Cafe, whose girlfriend is a young promising vietnamese artist, 27 years younger, who also drives us back home at the end of a lively evening at Papa Joe's restaurant

- Peter, Chinese who loves to sing along to Portuguis songs and even speaks a bit of portuguese, and his friend, a Chinese 66-year old retired teacher, who loves to dance to all the songs

- Jason, a Chinese Melakan archaelogist who proudly shows us all the work he has done, and which has been recognised by Unesco and the Malay and Portuguese governments, in uncovering so much of Melaka's Portuguese past

- Mark and Stefan, two German expats from Shanghai who we dragged along to Papa Joes and had a night they will remember!

- Lena, who fed us breakfast every morning and kept our address to write us a postcard

This was Melaka.. I have a feeling that if we stayed longer, the list would just get bigger and bigger, but unfortunately it is time to leave, the Chinese New Year is coming and we have already planned to celebrate it in style in Singapore.

So now, it is "Muito Grande Merci, Melaka" and we will certainly see you again!