Having managed to get over my crisis at turning 30, and the mini-freakout that happened at 31, I am feeling age sensitive again. In the space of 3 weeks 3 friends have announced their engagement and news of 3 pregnancies reached me (all good things come in threes eh!). While I am so incredibly and pleased and happy for all of my friends I have to admit a little bit of me feels that it just highlights my singleton status and while the alarm bells of impending old age ring I am left wondering why we all have to grow up? Can't I continue in my world where I never mature?
If the tick-tock of the old biological clock isn't enough to contend with nearly every taxi driver encounter goes through the usual questions and is shocked that no I am not in KL to support my husbands career, no I don't have a husband and children, or boyfriend, and yes I am over 30. At which point they generally look at me with utter pity, shake their head and announce that it is probably too late for me. What was I thinking!
To top this off my beautician has found new faults to criticise me about. Obviously I've been used to the big, fat, hairy, freckly farang comments for a couple of years now, but I was taken aback when she announced that my wrinkles were getting worse and maybe I should try this new laser treatment to reduce them. She was silenced with a death stare, but now all I see is wrinkles.
But the icing on the cake happened while Helen and Kate were staying. We were shopping in Central Market and embarking on some serious haggling when the shopkeeper turned and asked if Helen was my daughter. While tears pricked my eyes Hels announced that she was infact my sister. I would like to say that we stormed out the shop but Kate really wanted the picture. I really must be looking haggard!
So I'm now on a mission. No booze (at least for January), lots more exercise, and I've even got my gas reconnected so I can cook lovely healthy food. From now my body is a temple and I intend to look 5 years younger by the end of the month...... without the aid of laser treatment. Wish me luck.
We spent ages wandering round Chinatown, admiring the architecture, and browsing through the craft shops and art galleries. As well as managing to stop for a fruit shake or two we visited some chinese temples and saw the oldest Dutch building in Asia.
On Sunday, after a leisurely brunch, we stopped at Villa Sentosa, the living museum. The villa is a traditional Kampung house in Kampung Morten and is crammed full of antiques and collectibles. We were shown around the house by the 70-odd-year old son of the founder of Kampung Morten who still lives in the house. It was lovely to be guided by someone who was so proud of his family's history, his culture and his country. He was one of 12 children and uncle to no fewer than 85! Among the things he showed us were the seats that the King and Queen of Malaysia sat on when they visited the house, which we were encouraged to sit on emulating the photo of their Royal Highnesses, a wishing gong that you hit 3 times for good luck and various photos of the changes to Melaka over the years. He was a mine of information, some of it a bit random but all of it entertaining. He was particularly keen to show Malay hospitality and blessed us several times as well as plenty of hand shaking. Definintely worth a visit if you are in town.
Despite having to push The Beast off the highway and leave it abandoned on some wasteland just days earlier, we headed off to the Cameron Highlands for a change of scenery. We stayed at Bala's guesthouse, a mock tudor old boarding school, which served tea and scones in the afternoon and delicious curries in the evening. It is slightly surreal visiting what can only be described as little england smack bang in the middle of malaysia. Stopping in for yet more tea at The Smokehouse you would think you were in the English countryside. 
