Coming Back

I'm really tired now, but I reckon that I should at least make a note here, that I am back, safe and sound, and back in the thick of things.

There's been a lot of writing in my paper journals; to my surprise I managed to fill up a whole book in four days of writing. As usual, I won't presume to bore you with all the details. Suffice to say that it was a great trip, even a good trip. The days were full, filled to the brim with walking, reading, writing and sketching - the unlimited fruits of solitary travel. But they also turned out to be fulfilling, and between the dawn walk on the peak of Penang Hill, and chasing the sunset to the North Coasts of the island in the hope of that one stunning photograph, there were delights and surprises that sprang from the riotously colourful streets of Georgetown, so many that they defied my efforts to record them, and I fear that even all the paper and all the lead I can get my wearied hands on would not prevent my perception from being confounded by the sheer volume of experience.

For Penang lends itself so readily to exploration. On a whim, I could duck into a coffeeshop and order a portion of their specialty, or take the next turning down a side alley, straining to see where the road may lead ahead, or jump onto a bus randomly, trying to hide my anticipation in discovering where it will take me and to appear like just another commuter. The place is not safe; the traffic is wild, the facilities are incomplete, and I hear that there was a political demonstration when I was there, though I, being Singaporean and thus inherently adverse to such scandals, was safely on the Hill trekking the back lanes along its flanks. But this unsafeness is part of the appeal. You don't just visit the place; the element of conditionality in their welcoming of visitors, their hospitality without outright pandering and condescension, makes you work for your enjoyment, and, like the fruit of any hard labour, you enjoy their welcome more because of the difficulty in getting to it.

All this experience was made possible, I reckon, by the fact that I was travelling alone. Without another person to worry about and consider, without an accompanying personality through which to refract my experience, I feel that I have been able to experience more. Or at least, experienced differently - for I will be the last to disparage the distinctive pleasures of the company of a true travelmate and kindred spirit. But one thing, I think, is at least undeniable. Solitary, I was able to do what I wanted with every instant of the day, and this meant that I left Penang feeling like I had done everything that I wanted to do there, and this in turn made the slow, stately return by train much more bearable and satisfying.

This experience has thus pointed out two things to me: firstly, that Penang is a place that I want to visit again. And secondly, exploration should be a solitary endeavour. When you travel with someone, you necessarily hope to enjoy his company. But when you travel, you are looking to be charmed by the sense of place, the crystallisation of the exotic and the strange in a local experience. These two diverging attractions tug your attention this way and that, and you end up paying both less attention than they deserve individually. No - exploration should be solitary. Returning, however, is best done with company, for returning is much more about reprisals, relivings, remembering, and, in the end, storytelling - about past experience rather than new experience. And the past comes most to life when it is communicated and shared, doesn't it?

Anyway, now that I'm back, will be putting my records into order. Hopefully I'll make the photos I collected over the weekend available tomorrow. In the meantime, though, real life demands my attention, and I turn my efforts back towards the task of teaching, with a spirit refreshed and realigned in its proper point of view. And, as always, I look forward to the next departure, and beyond that, to more good returnings ahead.