Beez Neez now Chy Whella - Queens Street Mall

Queens Street Mall

Beez Neez now Chy Whella

Big Bear and Pepe Millard

Fri 17 Feb 2017 23:57

Queens Street Mall

The story goes: Back in Johor Bear bought a waterproof cover for is IPad, it clips around the sides and back and at the bottom has a tiny circle of plastic where he places his dab to sign in. Said plastic broke, shrivelled and fell out. I know, I can change it when we get to Penang, there is a Switch shop in the Queensbury Mall on Queen Street right near the Jerejak anchorage, there is also a Mac shop to get you a new charging cable and a Harvey Norman to fill our Sodastream gas bottles. A plan formed. We have to leave Baby Beez on the bank opposite and walk for half an hour because the dredger is opposite the Mall, they have been building a sea wall so nowhere to park, is that OK. Yes. So off we went. I knew there may be trouble ahead as we pulled in and found thick mud........... The gentleman in Bear saw him wade shin deep and drag Baby Beez to some stones so I could mince ashore...................

We walked for half an hour, the only people seen walking.........in the heat of the day...........for half an hour......... . Then passed a lovely little sandy beach, not a whiff of mud anywhere. Oh well, at least we’ll know for next time. I said nothing but to add insult to injury – there was a dinghy happily parked on said sandy beach....... I still said nothing......... On we went. The path came to an end by said dredger and we had to climb over the barrier and bimble at speed to the roundabout. Safely across all four lanes, we saw two potential one careful owners parked side-by-side. Ten minutes more saw us in the heavily air-conditioned, huge mall. Straight for a drink. Well via Borders, can we nip in quick. I don’t mind. In we nipped, no LP for Vietnam but there was one for Cambodia. It turns out we handed over three times the cost in England but we did get a free notebook and a rather smart drinking flask. Well, it’s something less to bring back from the UK, somehow that didn’t help.

We went to Baskin Robins and ordered a milkshake each. “Sorry, we have no ice so no drinks”. OK, we found a Japanese looking place and ordered a peach cider and a raspberry cider. Mine was so tart it brought my eyebrows to my top lip but Bear was content. Next stop – the Croc shop, no yellow ones for Bear. I don’t know what I’m going to do, mine are on their very last legs. He was not to be persuaded that Stars Wars Crocs would look cool to the grandchildren. Next stop – Hardly Normal oooops Harvey Norman. “No sorry, there is no Sodastream in Malaysia, so sorry”. Right. Next stop – Switch where Bear wanted to exchange his IPad cover. After half an hour I was losing the will, three young men took the story three times each and a call to their boss who rang back. Meanwhile, a tall and willowy young man (how he kept his head aloft for the weight of his R Whites glasses I’ll never know.......popped into the frame with the suggestion of using the online service which after posting it to KL will send a new one to Pangkor Marina. At last a semi-success. The Mac Apple shop turned out to be MAC the make up shop. I thought I would up the successes side by going in to Aeon for two waterproof mattress covers for when I recover the seats in the cockpit. “No, no singles, madam. Velly solly”. Undeterred I thought getting a new lipstick was a sure fire success. No, the one I have worn for over thirty years has been discontinued. Shoulders slump. That’s it I need an ice cream. I then suggested we have supper out and we walk home. OK.

We went to the third floor and circumpedded the circular eating hall. I stopped at the vaguely Eurasian stall and asked for sweet and sour chicken. Well, talk about speed. The chap at the till spun to pull out a chicken breast already coated, chop, chop, chop, Sizzling plate on heat, cup of rice added two ladles of sauce and a solid egg. I had spoken to the second chef about my need for a soggy egg and supervised said operation. Solid egg removed, mine added and handed over the princely sum of one pound eighty. I was tucking in by the time Bear got back with his chitty from the Portuguese Cuisine, twelve minutes. I paid three pounds nearly so it better be good as he looked down at mine. When he was called I did not expect him to return with a little bowl of soup, a pile of rice covered with a solid egg and unwrap a parcel – the aroma from which nearly had me off my chair. Whatever is that. It’s sting ray. Oh, and apparently very cheeky.

We then indeed walked home, luckily the tide was in so there was no repeat of the oozing mud routine. The place we had parked next to and had assumed it was a building site was now lit and ready to serve food. Mmmm.