Penang, Part 4: The mighty Kek Lok Si temple.

(Day 4) 27th June 2015

Second blog written today. I am on a roll. It's probably because I am spending ludicrous amounts of Singaporean dollars on expensive lattes and cakes. 

Huh...where is your budget you say? I do not have a clue. I feel I left it at Singaporean immigration. ;)

I had initially planned to leave Penang on the morning of my fourth day there, as I felt I had seen everything worth seeing, and all of my dorm buddies had left, to be replaced by five British girls who helped justify my dislike for British travellers under twenty-five.

(I pretended I was French when they tried to talk to me, and turned out the dorm light when they came back in at 01:00, and decided that was a perfect time to repack their backpacks. Surprisingly, they did not attempt to talk to me again. Good.)

However, the day before, on the way to the foot of Penang Hill, I had spied this temple in the distance. 

It looked so beautiful perched above the valley.

This was Kek Lok Si temple, and upon hearing how much Indre and Isaac had enjoyed visiting it, I decided I would spend an extra day in Penang and visit it in the morning early afternoon, and then catch up on blogging in the afternoon. Having gone through bus-related hell the night before, it would also be nice to use my hard-won knowledge.

An hour by bus later, I was stood at the foot of the temple's hill. I had read that the route up to Kek Lok Si was well hidden, so I turned into a non-descript alleyway roughly where I thought I should turn off the road, and sure enough, the alley widened and was soon lined by stalls selling snacks and tacky Chinese souvenirs.

Yup, this was the right turning.

The secret passage.

After a gentle ten minute climb through the shop-lined tunnel, the alley split around a circular space with a barrier around it. Upon reaching it, I looked down to see a pool filled with turtles. 

So many grumpy, wrinkly faces.

There were hundreds of them, sitting in the soupy, green water staring longingly at a man selling greenery with which tourists could feed them. I felt bad for their less-than-ideal confinement, but thought I could help at least by feeding them some greenery. 

I then continued to climb up through more shops and restaurants until I eventually emerged in the old prayer hall, where there were the standard elements of a Chinese temple: wishing ribbons and their accompanying trees; gaudy deities illuminated by neon lighting; and hundreds of candles with their flames spluttering in the light wind.

Walking back out of the prayer hall into the bright sunshine, I turned a corner to see that the temple peak still loomed far above me.

Retracing my steps slightly, I found a path that lead higher into the sprawling complex, past pagodas, pools, and (sadly) beggars who lined the sloping path between the temples.

I am far from miserly, but I do have an objection giving to beggars in most situations. That business man at the train station who asks for a pound because he has lost his wallet, I have no problem giving money to him. A lot of homeless beggars in the UK I have little time for, but I will occasionally buy Big Issues off of those who sell them. But beggars in South East Asia particularly I have no time for. I watched a Thai women in Udon Thani collect over 100B (£2) in around an hour from passersby, which I would expect is much less than the waiting staff who walked around her serving customers earn per hour. I have had to step over a man sprawled out in the middle of Jalan Petaling in Malaysia who just shook his plastic cup without even looking at me because he was too busy playing Candy Crush (or equiv.) on his smartphone. In this part of the world, religion encourages generosity and support, and I feel at times people abuse that generosity. 

Rant over.

Pagodas and temples.

I felt increasingly lost and confused when I walked through a circular arch into a flower garden which surrounded a small, gaudily-painted temple.

There were impressive views from the balcony at the far end of the garden.

But there was still so far to go to reach the top of the temple.

I continued climbing through the maze of temples and altars, and eventually found myself in a huge souvenir shop where I spotted signs stating 'Lift to Pagoda'. That sounded positive, and when I realised I would be travelling by inclinator (fancy word for a lift that travels diagonally  along a slope rather than vertically), I happily paid the RM6 return to try it.


It was remarkably unexciting and slow, but the operators had packed it so full that I was unable to photograph it's unremarkableness. It was just a very slow lift that saved me from a ten minute hike up the hill.


At the top of the temple, I exited the lift and walked through yet another shopping complex before emerging in the sunshine before this behemoth.

The solid-bronze statue, depicting Kuan Yin the Goddess of Mercy, stood over thirty metres tall, and dwarfed all the other buildings in the complex. Unfortunately this was as close as you could get, as the pagoda that housed it was being renovated, and was closed to the public. However, I was content to have just finally reached the peak of the temple I had seen the day before, and had taken over an hour to find.

I wandered around the other temples, and sat by the obligatory pond filled with koi carp, before descending in the inclinator (perhaps I should say diagonaling in the inclinator?) back to the lower level of the temples, to begin the twisting walk back into the town.

Emerging out of the shaded alley into the sun at the base of the temple, I walked through a wet market, and found myself an iced coffee to enjoy before walking to the main road to catch a bus back to the city centre.


Now I had spent nearly an hour yesterday confounded by the confusing bus routes in this part of this city. I had learnt that buses returning to the city run both ways along Ayer Itam Road, and you need to know which number runs which way to make sure you hail the right one down. I thought I had mastered this, but it still took thirty minutes for a bus to stop and let me aboard. I just think the bus drivers cannot be bothered to deal with tourists sometimes. 


Back in the city, I spent a lazy afternoon blogging in several cafes near to the hostel, and then for dinner sampled the street food from about four different stalls at the end of the street, before returning to the blogging. It was uneventful but productive.

Late afternoon on Lebuh Cinta (Love Lane).

Tomorrow, I would start my adventures in KL (Kuala Lumpur). Whether I produce a blog covering that tomorrow is less certain. I have a flight to catch and, well, sleeping to do.

DSP

Useful Information:

• Kek Lok Si is located in Ayer Itam, to the west of central Georgetown, and not far from the base of Bukit Penang. 
• There are buses that run from KOMTAR and Terminal Weld up to the temple's base, but I do not recall the bus number, and it may not be helpful anyway as the buses are very bizarre in Penang. Just know that you can flag them down anywhere, but they will only stop to let you off at designated bus stops.
• My bus cost RM2 each way.
• Kek Lok Si is free to enter, but the inclinator costs RM3 each way, and avoids a long walk up a steep road to the temple's peak.