February 1, 2009 - Telaga Harbor, Langkawi, Malaysia

We woke up with the dawn this morning. As Sten brewed coffee and dished up some breakfast, I made myself presentable enough to go deal with the local officials. An hour later, after visiting the harbor master, customs, and immigration, we were cleared out of the country. I used the last of our local currency to pay the marina bill, putting the overage on a credit card. By the time I got back to the boat, Sten had everything stowed for passage.

Our exit from the tight marina slip that we were sharing with a beamy Oyster 55 did not go as smoothly as our arrival. There was some shoving off of the Oyster, and for a moment we were tangled up with the big dinghy hanging off of their davits, but no harm was done and we got away cleanly. That was the end of our good luck.

We spent the next three hours motoring across the south side of Langkawi. During our week at the Royal Langkawi Yacht Club, we hadn't seen a single boat use the fuel dock. The fuel tanks there have been contaminated before, so rather than risk it and on the advice of another cruiser, we decided to fuel at Telaga Harbor, about 16 miles away on the west coast of Langkawi.

When we pulled into Telaga, the gas station sent down someone over on a motorscooter to turn on the pumps at the fuel dock. About six ringgits worth ($1.50) of fuel trickled out before the pump stopped working altogether. After a short conversation on his mobile phone, the gas station employee turned to us and said that the pumps were broken and that we should go back to Kuah to fuel. I replied that we'd just come from there and weren't going back, but that Sten could fix anything, if they would let him have a go at it. So he and Sten headed off together, only to discover that the problem was with the computerized control system, rather than a mechanical problem. Well, that's a bit beyond Sten's purview, so we went off to have some lunch at a tourist cafe (we had no local currency left so we had to go someplace that accepted Visa).

Over lunch we debated whether to a) head back to Kuah, b) spend the day exploring the area around Telaga in the hope that the technician coming on the morning ferry from Penang could fix the problem quickly, or c) spend the afternoon lugging fuel from the gas station in jerry cans. Figuring that there was no guarantee that the technician would be able to fix the pumps and that the round trip to Kuah and back would take as long as jerrying it, we decided to go ahead and fill our virtually empty tanks with jerries. So, after an overpriced lunch and a fortifying almond croissant, we tucked into the task.

Utilizing our two old diesel jerries, which hold 22.5 liters each, and the two new jerries that Sten bought last week to carry extra gasonline to Chagos for the dinghy, which hold 30 liters each, we did 6 round trips to the gas station. It wasn't that far away, but it was far enough that the employees rode mopeds to get to the fuel dock. We were lucky enough to find two hand carts, which made the task much easier, and Sten was chivalrous enough to take charge of the 30 liter jerries, but even so, after 5 hours of hauling diesel and decanting 635 liters (168 gallons) of it into our tanks, I was completely covered with diesel and exhausted. I was so relieved when both tanks were full.

Sten learned an ingenious method of siphoning fuel from the local guys in Indo that we put to good use todayy. First, run a long hose from a jerry can to the fuel tank. Then, take a short hose and insert it into the top of the jerry can. Seal the opening of the jerry with a piece of cloth. Finally, blow into the short hose. The pressure from the air blown into the jerry will force the diesel into the long hose and gravity does the rest. This method, which if done correctly will not result in a mouthful of diesel, is a whole lot better than the traditional method of sucking on the tank end of the long hose.

By siphoning diesel into the forward tank while we poured it via a funnel into the aft tank, we were able to fill both tanks simultaneously, speeding up the whole process. But even so, it was 8:30 and dark by the time we were done settling the bill at the gas station and cleaning the diesel off the side decks. The only redeeming thing about the whole experience is that we saved some money by getting our diesel directly from the gas station, rather than the pumps at the fuel dock, which charge a premium. However the savings breaks down to a measly $4.45 an hour. The last time either of us worked for $4.45 an hour was in high school.

January 31, 2009 - Langkawi, Malaysia

There is almost nothing that Sten and I enjoy more than trying new food, especially when it is so cheap that we don't feel bad not finishing it if we don't like something or if something is so spicy that the skin begins to flay off of the roofs of our mouths (which has only happened twice this week). The twice weekly (Wednesday and Saturday) night market in Kuah has been one of the highlights of our week in Langkawi.

I'm not sure which we found more concerning - the stench coming off of this mountain of durian or the black socks and sandals on the guy in front.

Actually, this is the most disconcerting thing we've ever seen at a market - deep fried hamburgers. Neither of us could get up the gumption to try one.

Almost everything we tried at the Kuah market has been wonderful, but this guy takes the cake. His freshly fried donuts (or donats as the sign says) are easily the best donuts that either of us have ever had. And at 17 cents a piece, they were worth every penny . . . and calorie.

Everything that is sold at the market goes directly into a plastic bag. We've found Malaysia to be cleaner than Indonesia, but there is still a tremdous amount of litter here by Western standards.

The nightmarket is also a bazaar. There are several stalls stocked with handbags and sandals, perfumes and cigarrettes. There was also a stall selling cowls - a sort of instant headscarf contraption.

Headscarves made simple.

January 30, 2009 - Langkawi, Malaysia

When Elaine and Allan off of Chatelaine invited us to join us for a hash, I got pretty excited. Then Elaine explained that a hash was a social run, rather than a bowl of something brown and sticky and hallucinogenic, I was a bit less excited. Running in this heat seemed a little crazy. But when Elaine and Allan described their local chapter of the Hash House Harriers as a "drinking club with a running problem," I once again became intrigued. The Langkawi Beach hashers each pay 30 RM (or $8) to get a little exercise and eat and drink all evening, which is a bargain in anyone's books. Sten, who loves a deal and has less of an aversion to physical exercise than I do, was all for it. And once Elaine promised that I didn't have to run, I was willing to give it a go.

The Hash House Harriers were founded back in 1938 in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia by a bunch of Brits who meet for a run on Monday nights as a way to purge their systems of the toxins built up by a weekend of heavy drinking. One of the guys (the hare) would run ahead of the others, marking a trail for them to follow. The pack following behind would shout and blow horns as they gave chase. False trails abounded, to slow down the front runners who would have to double back. A perfect hash would result in everyone finishing at the same time. When the harriers arrived at the finish circle, they would be rewarded with beer and cigarettes. The Brits seemed to be having so much fun that the idea caught on, and now there over 2,000 HHH kennels (as the local HHH groups are known) all over the world.

On Friday night we joined the Langkawi Beach kennel for their 406th hash. The run was a blast. The trail took us through some of Langkawi's tropical scenery, which we wouldn't have otherwise had a chance to explore. Some of the hashers ran, others jogged, and several walked the whole route. It was a bit of a scavenger hunt as had to spot little piles of flour that marked which direction we were to go. Discussing the marks and trying to find the true trail added both a social aspect and a bit of intellectual challenge to the run.

Check out that beer pounding technique - forward lean, dribbling vast quantities of awful, cheap beer out around the mouth of the glass - good to see that my college education didn't go to waste!

As hash virgins, Sten and I were called into the circle at the end of the run. We were each handed tall glasses of beer. The hashers began singing. When they reached a certain refrain in the song involving "down-down-down-down" we were told to drink. As we tried to finish our beers before the song ended, we were baptized with freezing water from the ice chests as we tried to finish our beers. It was quite refreshing, actually. Sten only made the one visit to the circle, but I was called back in twice more: once for wearing inappropriate headgear at the circle (my sunglasses were perched atop my head) and once for having shoddy footwear (my very old sneakers came apart during the run). My detaching soles became so floppy that Sten and I stopped halfway through and he helped me rip them off. I thought my soleless sneakers made a fine pair of racing flats, but the Grand Master felt otherwise.

At the end of the circle, when all hash business had been taken care of, the location for dinner was announced - Fat Momma's on the other side of the island. Since Sten and I hadn't had a chance to explore any of the island other than Kuah, we were thrilled with the opportunity to check out the resort area. The food at Fat Momma's was terrific and the harriers were a really fun group. All in all, it was a great night. But I'm pretty sure that after the open bar, my body had a few more toxins in it than before the run, which may have violated the HHH founders' intent somewhat.

January 29, 2009 - Langkawi, Malaysia

Sten's dockside projects have gone really well. He was able to repair the dingy, troubleshoot and repair the main engine starting circuit, which has been dogging us for months, and inspect our nearly empty fuel tanks for sludge. He was pleased to see that the tanks look good. Over the past few days, while the dinghy glue dried and set, he has also replumbed the saltwater lines to and from the generator and finished installing new locking screws on the hatch over the generator. The installation of the new screws has reduced cabin noise nicely when either of the engines are running. He also sourced two new jerry cans. We'll use them to carry extra gasoline for the dinghy outboard when we head to Chagos for our two month stay there.

While Sten has been busy with his projects, I've been trying to buy enough meat, chocolate and booze to get us through two months in Chagos and onto Africa. But I've been hampered by the fact that most of the shops have been closed for Chinese New Year. Some of them opened today (Thursday), but the majority will be closed again tomorrow. Fridays are a weekend day in this predominantly Muslim island. Even though most of the shops are run by the Chinese, they are still closed on Friday. But on Saturday the wine warehouse should be open (finally) and we'll be able to stock up on vino.

Langkawi is the first place we've been where the predominant religion is Islam. Actually, that's not true. The population of Yogyakarta, Java was predominantly Muslim, but theirs was a much more moderate version of Islam. Most of the women we met during our few days there did not wear headscarves. Some of the Muslim women we encountered in Singapore and Penang, Malaysia wore headscarves. But Langkawi is the first place we've ever been where we regularly see women wearing not only headscarves, but also burqas, a garment designed to conceal Muslim women's bodies from the gaze of unrelated men.

Now mind you, it is hot here. It is in the high-80's or hotter every day. Sten and I are constantly sticky (and occasionally soaked) with sweat. It is so hot that I cut all my hair off in Penang. The heat is exhausting. I simply can't imagine wearing more than a t-shirt and skirt. But many of the Muslim women here wear long dresses, with long sleeves, and floor length skirts. I'd simply pass out if I was required to wear so much clothing in this heat. The heat affects the local women too. I have seen women in public restrooms, removing their headscarves to mop the sweat from their brows.

Our first evening here we were in the grocery store, picking up a few items, when we both noticed a woman in a full burqa, complete with boshiya - a veil covering her face. She was even wearing gloves. We couldn't see a centimeter of her skin. We've since seen other women here with a niqab covering the lower half of their faces, but the woman in the grocery store's entire head was covered with a thin veil. Her eyesight was so impeded by the garment that she had to lift the edge to peer at the labels on the food that she was considering buying. I can't imagine going through life so debilitated.

Note the sweat soaking through his shirt as Sten weilds a 5 pound sledge and cleaver on an unsuspecting piece of beef tenderloin.

Sten has been wanting to buy a giant cleaver for as long as I've known him. Earlier today, faced with the task of cutting up and vacuum packing 6 kilos of frozen solid beef tenderloin, I caved and gave him the go ahead to buy a utilitarian version. It is an ugly tool, which appears to be crudely ground from standard flat stock steel. It is already rusting. I'm planning to store it next to the rusty machete that Sten convinced me that we needed to buy in the Caribbean. I've got my doubts that the cleaver will be used again on this trip. Since it only cost $7, that's fine. However, it did cut through the frozen tenderloin like it was butter and Sten claims it will make steaking wahoo a lot easier. So if we get lucky fishing, the cleaver may see the light of day again.

January 25, 2009 - Royal Langkawi Yacht Club, Langkawi, Malaysia

Our trip up from Penang to Langkawi was an easy daysail. There wasn't much wind, so we had to keep the motor running all day to arrive at the anchorage before dark. We haven't filled our fuel tanks since Bali; since then we've put a lot of hours on the engine. We arrived in Langkawi with about an inch of Indo diesel left in each tank - just in time to load up with duty free fuel.

Our first night here we anchored in a cut between two islands. The forests covering the steep cliffs around us were alive with the sounds of birds, monkeys and insects. When night fell, we were surround by total darkness. We haven't been in a place this devoid of ambient light since August.

The next morning, as we motored up to Kuah, there were eagles soaring overhead. With their reddish brown wings and white heads they looked like bald eagles to us. Seeing these predators in flight we could understand why this group of islands was named after these majestic birds; in Malay lang means eagle and kawi means strong.

About 20 years ago the Prime Minister of Malaysia designated Langkawi as a duty free island. Since then it has become a popular vacation destination for Malaysians, Thais and Singaporeans. In the past few years several luxury resorts have opened here, extending the draw of the island beyond its immediate neighborhood. Last year this group of 99 islands containing mountains, mangroves, tropical rainforests and limestone krasts was designated a UNESCO Geopark, which is expected to have a positive impact on the numbers of tourists visiting the island. For yachties heading across the Indian Ocean, it is the best place to stock up on wine, beer and hard alcohol at reasonable prices (beer is $10 a case here rather than $20 in Thailand).

Other than stocking up on duty free booze, we have a few other items to check off of our list in Langkawi. Several of Sten's projects (including dinghy repair and trouble shooting a problem with the main engine ignition) are best done while the boat is tied to a dock; so, we find ourselves in a marina for the third time this month and the fifth time in two years of cruising. Despite a stiff breeze and some tricky current Sten did a masterful job of parking Mata'irea in a tight slip next to a beamy Oyster 55.

January 23, 2009 - Penang, Malaysia

Diet Coke - check, canned carrots - check, mountain of junk food - check, check, check. Okay, we're ready to cross the Indian Ocean.

Penang has been one of our favorite stops on this trip. Walking down the streets here, smelling the enticing aroma of stir fried noodles wafting out of the coffee shops, listening to the latest Bollywood hit blaring out of a DVD shop in Little India, we couldn't help but feel that we were someplace really exotic. We were so enamored with Georgetown's ethnic neighborhoods that we never made it out of the old city. Thanks to the combination of accessibility and rock bottom prices, this has also been a great place for us to get things done, including the bulk of our Indian Ocean provisioning. Unfortunately, the marina in Georgetown leaves a lot to be desired, which causes a lot of cruisers to skip Penang on their way north to Thailand.

Before we left Singapore we were warned by another boat that had stopped in Penang several times that passing ferries generate wakes that cause boats docked at Tanjung City Marina to rock from "gunwale to gunwale." The morning we arrived at the marina, the first question that the skipper off the boat next to us asked us was "have you heard about the roll?" He pointed to the popped fender hanging from the side of his boat and muttered, "lost that one last night." Then he pointed to the rubber bumper hanging off the side of the dock "but not before doing that," he said. Luckily, we weren't sharing a slip with anyone, so we ran an line to the far side of the slip, both to keep the boat from relying too much on our fenders and to reduce the roll somewhat.

One afternoon, several days after we arrived, a wave moved through the marina that caused two boats on A dock to roll violently, smashing their masts together. We could see bits of lights and instruments breaking off the tops of their masts and falling into the water. The marina staff will put any two boats together in a slip, regardless of their size, hull shapes or how small the resulting gap is between the two boats. Therefore, guests at the marina need to make certain that their masts don't line up with those of the boat next to them. Marina guests shouldn't stand for any marginal berthing arrangements. The marina staff will move you if you don't like your berth, but you need to speak up.

There is little that the marina can do to ameliorate the roll outside of building a true breakwall, which would be a huge expense. However, the section of perimeter dock closest to the ferry terminal is broken, allowing substantial ferry wash and wind waves to make their way into the marina. Repairing that portion of the dock would improve things and should be a priority for the marina.

Ironically, the thing that causes cruising boats to move on from Penang quickly is not the motion in the marina, it is the noise from the all-night disco next door. Several nights a week, the pounding music causes cruisers to stuff their ears with earplugs, turn on their fans, and pop their sleeping pills and try to sleep through the pounding beat accentuated by the commentary of one very annoying DJ. We would have stayed in Penang through Chinese New Year, but after too many nights of crappy sleep and waking up with bruises under our eyes that made us look like we'd been throwing punches at each other, we decided to head north to Langkawi. If the owners of Tanjung City Marina value their key constituents - their marina customers - they would be wise to not renew the disco's lease.

January 22, 2009 - Penang, Malaysia

You never know what you might find down an alley in Georgetown. Off of Armenian Street, we stumbled across this old kongsi, or clan house. The kongsi functions both as a meeting hall and a temple for the Chinese who emigrated to Penang. There are kongsi all over Penang, in various states of repair. We were welcomed into this one by a man with a big smile and very little English who was thrilled to show us around his clan house, which was founded in 1820.

Dragons guarding the entrance to Cheah Kongsi

The early immigrants from China to Malaysia were primarily male. They intermarried with Malay women, forming a new group of people known as the Peranakans, which means 'half-caste' in Malay. The Peranakans retained the religions of their fathers and the customs of their mothers. Theirs is a very colorful culture. Peranakan food is a wonderful blend of Malay and Chinese cooking styles and ingredients.

Tiffin carriers at the Peranakan Mansion

Just south of the marina are a series of houses perched over the sea on stilts. These are known locally as the Clan Jetties, as each is named after the clan. This traditional Chinese waterfront settlement is still home to fishermen, but times are changing. Strolling the jetties just before sundown we crossed paths with a few young professionals returning home in time for dinner with their families.

January 21, 2009 - Penang, Malaysia

Last night we watched the inauguration in company with some cruisers from Florida and Holland, and crew members from some of the motoryachts moored in the marina. It was fun to share the event with other Americans and people from other countries. Everyone was excited about the change . . . well, everyone but the local captain who had once lived in Texas. Captain Wong is a Bush man through and through, but I offered him some of our champagne anyway.

One of the English cruisers here turned us on to the article in the New York Times that lists Penang as one of the top 44 (an homage to our new Commander in Chief?) places to visit in 2009. Of the 44 spots picked by the editors of the Times, this year we'll be visiting Phuket, India, Seychelles, Madagascar, and South Africa. Including Penang, where we're currently docked, Chicago and Washington, DC, which we visited while we were home for Christmas, and the Galapagos which we stopped at during our Pacific Crossing, we're coming in at 20% of the list. Now, if only our new Pres could do something about the travel ban on Cuba, we could really improve our numbers.

January 20, 2008 - Penang, Malaysia

This always happens to us. The longer we stay somewhere, the longer we want to stick around. Between tasty meals at hawker centers and in Little India, we've been exploring the local museums to learn more about the mix of cultures here. And somewhere along the way we discovered the section of Chinatown where we can buy just about anything we could conceive of needing for the boat for very short money. For example, the faucet and tub fixtures in the aft head needed to be replaced. They still worked fine, but esthetically they made the whole area look shabby. When we stumbled across a shop selling kitchen and bath fixtures for less than we've ever seen anywhere, we couldn't pass up the opportunity to switch out the old ones.

Our old laptop, the one that I fried by spilling a beverage on during the Pacific Crossing, which Sten repaired in French Polynesia, started acting up this week. Now, it isn't often that we find ourselves near a computer service center, but here we are, a $2.80 taxi ride away. So on Tuesday, I took my machine to the local Toshiba repair center. After two years of relying on it as our lifeline to the world - using it for research, weather reports, tide and current predictions, email, photo and video archiving, blog updates, skype chats with friends and family, and watching DVD's - I immediately had extreme separation anxiety from my notebook. I very nearly couldn't get in the elevator and leave it behind.

After terminating some connections, the technician informed us that we needed a new keyboard. If it arrives from KL by Friday, we'll be able to leave Penang this weekend. But Chinese New Year starts on Monday. And it seems to be a shame to leave town right before one of the biggest parties of the year. So maybe we'll stick around. In any case, between now and Friday we're sure to find another project to keep us in town for a few more days.

January 18, 2009 - Penang, Malaysia

Parts of Georgetown remind us of cities in the Deep South, like New Orleans, Savannah and Charleston. Like those atmospheric cities, this place has tropical decay down to an art form.
And then other parts of this city make us feel like we've stepped back in time to the heyday of the British Empire, and that we've somehow transported ourselves to British India.
But as we sit in a hawker center, slurping down noodles, watching beautiful Tamil women walk by in their colorful saris, it is clear that Penang has a magic all its own.

January 17, 2009 - Penang, Malaysia

Cheong Fatt Tze (1840-1917) was once dubbed the "Rockefeller of the East" by the New York Times. His home in Penang, the big blue building in the heart of colonial Georgetown, with its gothic louvered windows, Chinse cut & paste porcelain mosaics, English floor tiles, Scottish cast iron, and Art Nouveau stained glass windows reminded me of nothing so much as one of the Newport "cottages" built by the tycoons of the Guilded Age.

The architecture is essentially Chinese and is based on principles of feng shui. For example, the entrance faces south east, which is very fortuitous, rather than sitting square to the road. There is an elaborate, circuitous drainage system built into the roof and walls to gather rain water, collect it in a pool in the house's central courtyard, and then slowly drain it out through a maze of pipes. As water represents money and prosperity, it would be very good feng shui to bring as much as possible into your house and then keep it trapped there. Unfortunately, good feng shui wasn't enough to counterbalance the wasteful spending of recent generations. In 1990 the family sold the dilapidated house to the current owners who set about restoring it to its original form. It is now a guest house. The blue mansion was used as a location for shooting scenes of the Academy Award winning movie Indochine (which, along with Out of Africa, has to be one of the two most romantic films of all time).
Our tour guide was incredibly entertaining. He had a passion for the house's history and architecture. But his favorite part of the tour was clearly when one of the visitors innocently asked what foot binding was. With a flare for the macabre, our guide announced that "The Chinese were, are, and always will be masters of torture." Then he kicked off his sandal, grabbed one foot while balancing on the other, and proceeded to curl his toes under, demonstrating how the feet were deformed as they were bound. "If the child was old enough to untie her bindings, they would be stitched to her feet, through the skin. And eventually the toes would fall off," he went on to explain. He went on to describe how this misogynistic practice hobbled women, and made them prisoners in their own homes. They couldn't go anywhere or do anything without the assistance of a servant or three. He capped off his expostulation on the topic by declaring that "for a Chinese man, there was nothing so stimulating as seeing your wife crawl across the floor to you." Footbinding wasn't practiced by the family that owned the house, but our guide wasn't going to let that stop him from talking about it at length, particularly once he realized how rapt we all were.

January 15, 2008 - Penang, Malaysia

Quite possibly the greatest place on earth: the Gurney Drive hawker stalls.
We passed on this stall (somehow we weren't tempted by the cuttlefish or a veggie with the unlikely name convolvulus)

and this one.
We preferred to let someone else do the cooking for us.

After carefully considering the options at the various stalls, we made our selections and settled down for a feast of fried oysters (oysters fried in an eggy batter with chili and other spices and garnished with cilantro and spring onions) curry mee (a fragrant curry soup filled with vermicelli, yellow noodles, bean sprouts, prawns, shelled cockles, squid, cuttlefish, cubes of coagulated pig's blood, and deep fried tofu, garnished with a sprig of mint), and a bowl of warm silky bean curd garnished with a brown sauce. We washed all this good stuff down with homemade soymilk and a glass of honeyed sea cucumber, both served over ice.
The portions were small, so we had room to try a few more things. I couldn't resist the apom, a banana pancake filled with kaya (coconut) jelly. Sten chided my choice as pedestrian, but he had to admit that these were some tasty pancakes.
Sten felt the need to try the rojak (a fruit salad garnished with fried dough and pieces of cuttlefish, chopped peanuts, and a pungent dressing made out of soy sauce, chili, honey and vinegar). The dressing was interesting, but I could do without bits of cuttlefish in my fruit salad.
The food in Penang cheap and wonderful. At another set of hawker stalls near the marina we had the chance to try char kway teow (flat rice noodles, chili, prawns, cockles and bean sprouts, stirfried in lard - not healthy, but so very tasty), nasi lemak (rice cooked in coconut milk, garnished with chili and shrimp, and packaged in a banana leaf), and koay teow (beef soup filled with meat balls and little bite sized bits of stomach and garnished with fried garlic). Sten almost fell off his stool when I chowed down on a piece of tripe. It was a total texture violation, but the stomach lining did soak up all the tasty flavors of the soup.

We've also been enjoying the proximity of the marina to Little India. The best roti canai we've ever had is just three blocks away.

Now, you might be wondering why I appear to be so happy to be holding a colostomy bag . . . Well, because it is actually filled with caffeinated goodness.
Ali makes a mean teh tarik (pulled tea made with condensed milk).

The bag is the local version of the Starbucks takeaway cup. All over Singapore and Penang we've seen people walking along with beverage bags hanging off their wrists. At first the arrangement seemed bizarre, but it is actually very convenient. As I discovered during a provisioning run, the strap attaches nicely to a shopping cart and the door lock on a taxi. The only drawback is that you can't put it down on a flat surface. Which leads me to wonder if the cubicles here all come with hooks to hang one's takeout bag of tea.

January 14, 2009 - Penang, Malaysia

[Pictures have now been added to our last few posts. Scroll down to see them. Viva la internet!]

"Well, I love that dirty water"

Honey, did you know there was a bridge in our way?

Do you think we'll make it?

No worries.

Welcome to Penang!