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Italiano (Italian)
Problems with air conditioning are common in many countries. In Italy, you might encounter them in stores—especially in supermarkets—but not so much on public transportation. On certain trips, it’s almost a given that you’ll feel cold on planes, trains, or buses.
We all know this, and any traveler with even a little experience carries something heavy with them, even in hot climates. But sometimes that might not be enough.
These taxi-booking apps—which often vary from country to country and are new to me—have countless advantages over the way regular taxis work:
- They’ll pick you up and take you almost anywhere
- You can track the route and make sure you arrive at the right time
- You know exactly where you are and when you’ll arrive
- You know the price ahead of time, you don’t have to haggle, and you won’t get ripped off
- It’s no problem if the driver doesn’t speak your language or English
- You can almost always pay with the app or a credit card, so you avoid the age-old problem of the taxi driver never having change!
Unlike in Italy, where taking a taxi is for the wealthy, in some countries taxi rides are extremely inexpensive—so much so that people even use them for short trips.
It’s in Georgetown that I’m having problems with the air conditioning
On my first morning in Georgetown, with the heat already intense first thing in the morning and worried about straining my knee, I decided to take a taxi to visit two Buddhist temples just outside the city center. The air conditioning in the car was cranked up full blast; I had a sweatshirt in my backpack, and since I figured the ride would be short, I decided not to take it out. That was a mistake that probably affected the rest of the trip.
Georgetown, the main city on an island (Penang) connected to the nearby mainland by a bridge, is a very well-maintained colonial city. The traces of European rule are evident, so much so that the pastry shops offer fantastic Portuguese “pastel de nata.”
There are, of course, Asian buildings as well; it used to be a very busy port along the trade route between India and China. What makes it most unique, in my opinion, is the old Chinatown built on wooden stilts.
Already feeling pretty worn out, I took the night bus that brought me to the port, where I was to catch the small boat to the Perhentian Islands. It was freezing, even though I had put on every layer I could find and spent the entire time hugging my backpack. A woman mentioned this to the driver, who laughed right in her face in response, accompanied by the chorus of laughter from some Malaysian girls (who, however, were quite well-endowed and therefore in the know).
I had read that in Malaysia, if you write a negative review, you risk being sued for defamation, so I’d say that attention to customer needs is minimal.
Because of problems with the air conditioning, I’m missing out on the Perhentian Islands
On a varied and ever-changing trip, I had planned to spend three full days—which, in my mind, would be action-packed—soaking up the beach life, snorkeling, and lounging under the palm trees. The Perhentian Islands are the classic tropical—or rather, equatorial—paradise.
When I arrived there, after the polar night, I already had a fever and a pressing need to lie down. Unfortunately, I had to wait several very exhausting hours for my room, and I dragged myself back and forth between the reception chair and a nearby little bar.
The Perhentian Islands are a group of islands; I didn’t leave the one where I was staying— Kecil—so I didn’t see Turtle Bay or Shark Bay. The inhabited part of the island is so small that, despite my illness, just by going out to find food (starting on the second day), I can say I’ve seen the whole thing. There are no cars, and it’s basically a narrow strip of sand between the jungle and the small harbor. You can only get from one bay to another—or to one of the other islands—by boat. But I stayed in bed almost the entire time, quite worried about the rest of the trip, and only began to recover the day before I took the little boat back to the mainland.
The only positive thing was the last dinner. A man was grilling freshly caught fish—you could choose which one you wanted—right on the beach. I ate at a small table two meters from the water’s edge, with my bare feet in the sand.
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