The way to work
by prudence on 17-Jan-2012
I love my morning commute. I've talked a bit about my route across the old tin mine already, but shortly after I wrote that post, I emancipated myself from the clutches of the taxi-drivers, and for a long time now I have been going to work on the bus (for 1 ringgit) and on my feet (for free).
Once the children were back at school, I had to shift my day forwards a little, as the roads were getting busy, and the buses correspondingly late. So now I leave home just before 7 am, stepping out into that gloriously cool and silky tropical dawn that I've always loved.
We're so near the Equator that the day is pretty much the same length all year. But it does shift in time. This time of year, it gets light late, and dark late. As the year wears on, it will get light earlier, and dark earlier. So I have to make the most of now.
Every bus driver except the one with the white hat knows that when you ding the bell at a certain place, you want him to stop the bus at the unofficial bus stop by the footbridge over the road to the Pyramid mall. Here you squeeze through the railings (a good incentive not to let this delicious Malaysian food plump you up too much), and clang your way up the metal steps and across the road.
The season changed at the Pyramid in the first week of the year. Out with the holly berries and Christmas lights; in with the red lanterns, pink fans, and branches of cherry blossom that symbolize Chinese New Year. I was there the morning they did the change-over. When I come through the mall in the evening, the soundscape is now dominated by chirpy little traditional Chinese songs.
At just after 7 in the morning, though, you skirt the mall rather than traverse it. Places like the Republic ("sexy cocktail bar") and Italiannies ("pasta, pizza, vino") are firmly shut. But Teh Tarik Place is getting ready to open, and most mornings, unless I'm really early, JCO Coffee and Donuts is pumping out some lively music (which is not the case on my way back -- I think the morning staff need the wake-up material).
Once on the Canopy Walkway, however, you just hear the birds greeting the morning from the trees on the old tin-mine's forested slopes. Instead of the squeals and squeaks from the rides in the various fun parks, instead of the hammering from whatever it is they're building on the right-hand slope, there's just peace and quiet. Sometimes, the tigers are even up already.
If I'm unlucky, I sometimes coincide with the "fogger". We've met these contraptions in Singapore and in India, and I'm sure I appreciate their services in ridding our habitations of mozzies and dengue. But you don't appreciate them at the time, as they emit their trademark cloud of smoke amidst much roaring and clattering.
The students in the refectory are devouring noodles or nasi lemak as I go by, while Facebooking, reading the paper, or finishing their assignments.
Then I'm out on the little commercial street that leads to the main road. If I'm really lucky, the Malaysia Express trucks ("trust us for logistics and service") won't have made my life more logistically awkward by parking all over the pavement. Not having to negotiate them gives me more time to enjoy the flowers in the roadside beds (yellow and red and spiky, and pink and blossomy). Often, there is somebody sweeping. Someone is always sweeping in the tropics. Without them, we'd be rapidly buried in leaf litter.
Most of the shops in this area deal in car parts and car accessories. Some just offer the basics, like tyres or batteries. Others claim to be more upmarket. There's an "airbrush and sticker specialist", for example, and "Empire", where you "experience the hi-end luxury". But there are also other outlets -- Yit Hoong's busy chicken rice place, John Kee Pastries ("tarts you love most"), and "Yummy Yummy Duck". Plus there's the Basel Christian Church of Malaysia nestled in amongst the car-parts suppliers and food purveyors.
A couple of minutes along the big road, and I'm at Monash's pleasant, modern campus.
I reckon I'm pretty lucky. There are really lots worse ways to start the working day.
Once the children were back at school, I had to shift my day forwards a little, as the roads were getting busy, and the buses correspondingly late. So now I leave home just before 7 am, stepping out into that gloriously cool and silky tropical dawn that I've always loved.
We're so near the Equator that the day is pretty much the same length all year. But it does shift in time. This time of year, it gets light late, and dark late. As the year wears on, it will get light earlier, and dark earlier. So I have to make the most of now.
Every bus driver except the one with the white hat knows that when you ding the bell at a certain place, you want him to stop the bus at the unofficial bus stop by the footbridge over the road to the Pyramid mall. Here you squeeze through the railings (a good incentive not to let this delicious Malaysian food plump you up too much), and clang your way up the metal steps and across the road.
The season changed at the Pyramid in the first week of the year. Out with the holly berries and Christmas lights; in with the red lanterns, pink fans, and branches of cherry blossom that symbolize Chinese New Year. I was there the morning they did the change-over. When I come through the mall in the evening, the soundscape is now dominated by chirpy little traditional Chinese songs.
At just after 7 in the morning, though, you skirt the mall rather than traverse it. Places like the Republic ("sexy cocktail bar") and Italiannies ("pasta, pizza, vino") are firmly shut. But Teh Tarik Place is getting ready to open, and most mornings, unless I'm really early, JCO Coffee and Donuts is pumping out some lively music (which is not the case on my way back -- I think the morning staff need the wake-up material).
Once on the Canopy Walkway, however, you just hear the birds greeting the morning from the trees on the old tin-mine's forested slopes. Instead of the squeals and squeaks from the rides in the various fun parks, instead of the hammering from whatever it is they're building on the right-hand slope, there's just peace and quiet. Sometimes, the tigers are even up already.
If I'm unlucky, I sometimes coincide with the "fogger". We've met these contraptions in Singapore and in India, and I'm sure I appreciate their services in ridding our habitations of mozzies and dengue. But you don't appreciate them at the time, as they emit their trademark cloud of smoke amidst much roaring and clattering.
The students in the refectory are devouring noodles or nasi lemak as I go by, while Facebooking, reading the paper, or finishing their assignments.
Then I'm out on the little commercial street that leads to the main road. If I'm really lucky, the Malaysia Express trucks ("trust us for logistics and service") won't have made my life more logistically awkward by parking all over the pavement. Not having to negotiate them gives me more time to enjoy the flowers in the roadside beds (yellow and red and spiky, and pink and blossomy). Often, there is somebody sweeping. Someone is always sweeping in the tropics. Without them, we'd be rapidly buried in leaf litter.
Most of the shops in this area deal in car parts and car accessories. Some just offer the basics, like tyres or batteries. Others claim to be more upmarket. There's an "airbrush and sticker specialist", for example, and "Empire", where you "experience the hi-end luxury". But there are also other outlets -- Yit Hoong's busy chicken rice place, John Kee Pastries ("tarts you love most"), and "Yummy Yummy Duck". Plus there's the Basel Christian Church of Malaysia nestled in amongst the car-parts suppliers and food purveyors.
A couple of minutes along the big road, and I'm at Monash's pleasant, modern campus.
I reckon I'm pretty lucky. There are really lots worse ways to start the working day.