Malaysia - Penang Island

New Year! New day! Jan 1st 2026.
What did we do? We went shopping 😩
A mundane way to start the year, we visited a large soulless, confusing mall, procured a small rechargeable fan to help ventilate our tent, a pair of flip-flops. 🤘and we also bought some Thai currency.
The plan for the evening was a trip up the hill above the city. Penang Hill is a collection of peaks, rising high above Georgetown. The hills forested slopes are criss crossed with small roads and walking trails.

The journey up was exciting. We took a funicular from the lower station located in the Ayer Itam area of the city, 20mins by taxi from where we were staying.
We arrived around 5pm, planning to get to the top and city views by day, do a bit of exploring and then be able to take in views of the city after dark.
We were glad that we booked advance tickets online. The queues for tickets were considerable. The journey up the steep hill side lasted about 5 mins. The first funicular was incorporated in the 1920’s to replace the pack horse and sedan chair way of getting to the top.
The hill is steep and angle of the funicular set to combat the incline is quite extreme. It can move about 1000 people an hour. One car goes up and one comes down at the same time, on a single track, with a passing place where there is a short twin section of track, allowing cars to pass by each other.

We ascended quickly and the city tower blocks shrank from view. We rose over a crest and the track seemed to get even steeper. It felt like a ride on a roller coaster. The carriage clung to the track fixed to the densely forested slopes and I tried not to think of all the clever engineering keeping it, and all and us, anchored to terrafirma. Passing quickly through the steepest tunnel in the world we pulled into the upper station and disembarked with the throng to take in the views.
Busy with lots of people, the upper station catered for day trippers - food and drink and some basic attractions. We managed to escape the crowds and find our way to some of the walking trails spread across the hill. Descending steps into the shady dipterocarp tropical forest felt a world away from ‘touristville’ and its commercial trappings. At first, we passed a few other walkers on the path but then no-one for the next couple of hours. We tried to follow a signposted map of footpaths and trails but they were incredibly confusing. Like a map created by a child who had based it on a snakes and ladders game. We were unsure of what path we were following and whether to climb or descend but had a rough idea that we were following a circular route.
The forest enveloped us. A hush fell, broken only by the crack of a falling branch or fruit, the hum of insects, bird calls and monkeys, who ambled about high up in the tall trees. It was hard to believe we were on the edge of a city.
Flagstaff Hill - known as Bukit Bendara in Malay was an old hill station, also a retreat for European colonials and is dotted with grand bungalows with amazing views.
We imagined stiffly dressed English emigrants sat on their terraces drinking gin and tonic! No doubt to own one of these properties today would require a lot of money.

The evening light faded and gaps in the forest provided a superb vista of the city below, with its towers illuminated and its two long connecting road bridges, highlighted by the continuous lights of traffic passing over the strait from the mainland beyond.
We walked past trees and flowers that emitted scents making the air sweet smelling. The place possessed a wonderful peace and calm.

We arrived back at the upper station, grabbed a quick tea at the food court just before it closed. Much quieter now, as the crowds had gone.
We waited for the next funicular and were in luck to be the first to board. We travelled in the first car. Downward facing, in the direction of travel.
The journey down was more exhilarating than the way up. The steepness of the track now evident, I thought we would fly off as we dropped back down rapidly. Suddenly, the funicular car travelling up came into view, heading toward us, fast, on the same track! Shooting toward us, only to divert at what seemed like the last second, timed to perfection (and causing my heartbeat to quicken).
The lower station came into view, we slowed to a halt and our car gently kissed the buffers. A great experience that certainly had my adrenaline flowing.

Leaving Georgetown, we spent two days cycling around Penang Island, broken by an overnight in a campsite on the west of the island.
Making our way out of the first part city way a bit slow. Limited scope for cycle infrastructure to counter the one way roads combined with changes in level and haphazard placement of street furniture made it an obstacle course. In some ways, riding on the busy road would have been more straightforward and faster.
The road passed through the cities eastern urban sprawl. It’s coastal strip populated with tower block condos and smart malls with big brand name stores.

Amanda was moved cycling past the Shangri-La Rasa Sayang Resort, remembering happy childhood memories. She had stayed here twice as a small child, in 1981 and 1984, on family holidays. At the time there were hardly any hotels. Now there are loads along this stretch of coast, with more being built. Amanda’s mum told us that she got told off by the hotel management for putting her kids in T-shirts to swim in the pool. Amanda’s mum ignored them in favour of her children not getting sun burnt!

We made our way into the quieter northeast end of the island. Hilly, forested and wilder, we cycled gradually upwards toward the National Park, along side of a reservoir of the Telok Bahang Dam, and then onto a twisting, turning road section. Numerous durian stalls by the roadside were laden with the smelly delicacy, grown locally on the many farms in this part of the island. We weren’t tempted to stop and sample any.

Pausing at the high point, Amanda visited an Art Garden, which was set out on the hillside with magnificent views. Peaceful, shady and landscaped with plants and flowers, it showcased the work of a glass artist (Fuan Wong), and the garden was also home to group of tortoises. Amanda found herself the only visitor. A suspicious and dodgy one she must have looked, as a staff member followed her, observing her every move as she walked around the garden?! This spoiled the experience for her a little. Perhaps she looked like a glass art thief?
We had a lovely long downhill to cool us off and our route took us onto a coastal plain, densely covered mangrove to one side and palm plantations on the other. Cattle grazed lazily by the road. Tethered and left to chew the cud, many lay down in shady spots, usually accompanied by an honour guard of white egrets, ever hopeful of a chance to feast on the cattle’s flies and parasites.
A strange sound could be heard. Passing large concrete buildings, a couple of stories high, with no windows, we could hear an incessant whizzing, clicking, chirruping noise, Resembling electronic static, artificial, like a radio stuck between stations. We realised that these buildings must offer roosting birds a place of rest. Gathering in numbers inside, the structure would act like the cabinet of a speaker, amplifying the birds calls, emphasised by the small ventilation holes in the building’s side, making the air reverberate as their chorus was broadcast over the surrounding area. An avian call to prayer, if you like! It became a regular occurrence as we cycled through the landscape and a lovely thing to hear.

One final climb up to the place where we would camp knackered us out a bit. The place looked shut but a quick call to the owner and we were instructed to come in through the gate with the sign indicating that trespassers could be shot!
Greeted by the friendly host, she showed us where we could pitch. There was a small amenities block and an outdoor kitchen area with fans - bonus! The view across the hill to the sea was lovely as smoke from a distant fire created a haze as the sun went down. Red sky at night, camping delight!
The family ran a durian farm. The lady’s husband was third generation fruit farmer, working with his father, whose likeness was captured in a large mural by the kitchen.
After dinner, we clambered into our tent looking forward to a sound nights sleep. This was curtailed in part due group of giggling schoolgirls on a camping trip, who seemed inseparable and went everywhere and did everything together, even aimless wandering. It was like they were roped together. Also, a group of lads who talked loudly and played music into the early hours! Relaxing vibe dampened slightly.
We eventually slipped into a restful slumber, sometime around 1:00am.
We cracked on early the following day, riding back into urban sprawl, along past the end of the airport runway. Overcoming some tricky road interchanges, we managed to get onto an actual decent proper cycle path, heading north along the waterfront all the way back into the city. The route threw us a few bum turns and obstacles due to a lot of construction on many new waterfront developments. A fallen tree and collapsed telephone wires meant our way was barred and we had to manhandle the bikes through the damaged barrier onto the highway and back again, wheeling bikes and lugging panniers around the blockage, possibly as karmic punishment for enjoying the cycle path too much!
One last night in the city and on the island. Tomorrow we catch the ferry back to mainland Malaysia, to continue the final leg up the Malaysian coast toward Thailand.Læs mere