South to Melaka:

Given Ina and Bernard's lack of experience travelling with a backpack - not to mention their age! - Melaka was decided on as an ideal spot in which to continue our Malaysian adventure. Some two hours south of KL, a trip made easy for our new companions by way of private buses that boast more leg room than Emirates' business class, the historic port is described by one guide book as a premier destination oozing British, Dutch and Portuguese charm. Bollox!


The outskirts of this "historic" town, which serves as a kind of halfway house for people travelling between KL and Singapore, mirrors English dumps like Slough - reclaimed land eaten up by a sprawling mass of supermarkets and factory outlets (there's even a Tesco).

The entire heritage site, by way of protecting it, has been painted the kind of garish red you'd associate with a Sunday league football kit. High rise hotels stand tall on every corner while the vast majority of places to eat seem to have been modelled on a London soup kitchen.

And yet we enjoyed ourselves! Slightly worried about introducing Ina and Bernard to the world of hostelling we opted for the appropriately named "Travellers Lodge". Bonus. A charming guesthouse run by locals fellas with long winding corridors, hidden alcoves and the town's only roof terrace made it the perfect choice. A/C came, as always in Malaysia, as standard - without it nights are sweaty and sleepless.


In short, Melaka gained notariety as a historic port after centuaries of squabbling between the aforementioned Euro flavours. First the Portuguese, with their speedy gallions, deemed the place significant in their need to ship eastern spices back to the west. Jealousy ensued, as is always the case with colonialism, and the Dutch waded in quickly followed by the Brits. A few hundred years and countless "peace" treaties later the port was handed over to Malaysia who's government quickly seized upon its potential as a tourist attraction and embarked on their own crusade of mass development.


Despite Melaka's misgivings - pretty, charming and aluring it is certainly not - it offered us enough, in the shape of museums and crumbling ruins, to kill two days. So user friendly was "Travellers Lodge" that Kris and Bernard paired up in the dinky, but inviting, kitchen to cook up an Itallian feast - while the ladies downed bottles of red - as fellow guests dribbled in awe. There was even time for the well used cliche "the world is getting smaller" to jump up and bite Marit on the arse when she happened upon a former colleague, from Aylesbury YOI, during a recke of one of the town's better preserved ruins.