Reflections 2010
Series 5
May 6
Trip Genesis – Malay Peninsula Preview I: SAL 21, Raffles, Coward

 

Trip Genesis: RTW2-2010-Air-Oz   Several years ago, I started thinking about expanding travel to the Pacific, Australia, and Asia. I knew Australia was to be the keystone of such a trip, and I found locations in the Pacific, including New Zealand, that I wanted to combine with it. Adding parts of Asia was problematic. As in the Pacific where I chose only those islands in which I was particularly interested (or had a “passion” for) and ignored the many other islands, in Asia there were places I wanted to ignore totally, lacking an appropriate passion to visit them. As I mentioned earlier, just which places shall go unmentioned. On the other hand, while China and India are enticing destinations, they are each destinations that are far to large to treat as a mere add-on.

 
 

Which left me the Malay Peninsula. We’ll talk a lot more about it as we progress, but it includes the island nation of Singapore at its southern end, the peninsular (non-island) part of Malaysia in the center (also known as West Malaysia), and to its northeast, Thailand, partially on the Peninsula, but mostly north of it, including Bangkok. Myanmar (Burma), also has a portion of the Peninsula in the northwest, but given its military dictatorship, it’s an outcast nation at present. In addition, the luxury train known as the Eastern & Oriental Express periodically makes trips between Singapore and Bangkok, with other intermediate destination. The Malay Peninsula was to me an obvious choice. While Japan and Taiwan weren’t in the running for this Australian trip, either, the sudden free air ticket I got was the impetus to slip them in unexpectedly late last year.

 
 

But as described, my plate was much, much too full. Fortunately, my wanting to take the Queen Victoria from New York to Los Angeles last year offered me the perfect solution. From LA I added on the Pacific islands and New Zealand, very neatly leaving just the Malay Peninsula as an add-on to Australia.

 
 

The time of year was a difficult decision, given the reversal of seasons between the northern and southern hemispheres. I have commitments in October, so I wanted to be back by then. While it would be hot in the Malay Peninsula no matter what (Singapore is just about one degree north of the equator) I wanted to balance the potential heat of northern Australia with the cool of the south, and I decided on a trip of exactly eight weeks starting the second week of August. As the southern winter approaches its end and moves into spring, northern Australia should have reasonably warm temperatures and the lingering coolness in the south will hopefully be as refreshingly enjoyable as the autumn weather was in the US Pacific Northwest in November 2008.

 
 

The first problem was one of scheduling. The E&O Express in better economic times ran twice a month, but nowadays it goes just once, or at least that’s the case for this August. So the Malay Peninsula has to come before Australia, which is what I wanted to do anyway.

 
 

I’ll be completing my Oz visit in Perth, on its far western coast (again, “Oz” is shorter to both say and type than “Australia”). Perth is exactly halfway around the world from New York, a fact I’ll also discuss more later. If you look for flights online from Sydney to New York, you’ll be given eastbound routes across the Pacific, but if you look for flights from Perth to New York, you’ll be given connections westbound across the Indian Ocean—which proves my point. RTW (Round the World) is the way to go.

 
 

It is a bit daunting, but quite fun, to run a line across the globe from Perth to New York and see what routes are possible. There aren’t any non-stops, and I wouldn’t want one, anyway. I want both a pre-Oz stop and a post-Oz stop. I definitely don’t want to stop in Europe, since it’s not necessary. There are flights out of Perth to Cape Town, but I’ve just been there. There are connections via the Malay Peninsula, but that’s backtracking. India would work, but I don’t want to stop there in a fly-by-night move; I’ll wait until it’s actually time to go there. That left, lying between India and Africa, the Middle East, a region I have little interest in. I’ve been to the Middle Eastern (West Asian) countries on the Mediterranean (Israel, Palestine, Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, also [in Africa] Egypt), and that late 1960’s story is a long one, for another time. I felt the rest of the region didn’t interest me until I thought of Dubai. That was just perfect.

 
 

Dubai is known for its wackiness. It’s in the desert, but Ski Dubai is a ski resort, with indoor ski slopes, inside a Dubai shopping mall. It’s known for its free-spending ways, for which it’s been in the news lately. It struck me as being such an unusual Arab location that it had to be worth a visit. It’s really the United Arab Emirates (UAE) we’re talking about, and Abu Dhabi is the capital, but to simplify things, I’ll do what most people do and just call it Dubai after the UAE’s most notorious member. The UAE consists of seven independent emirates, which I can most easily describe this way. Although all seven emirates are equal, consider Abu Dhabi the responsible parent in a marriage. Dubai is the free-wheeling, high-living parent merrily running up credit-card bills, who has to be bailed out by the other parent. Consider the other five emirates the adult kids in the family, aghast, watching the wild action in the dysfunctional family. I’m exaggerating, of course, but visiting the UAE is going to be interesting, and Emirates (the airline) has an overnight nonstop across the Indian Ocean from Perth to Dubai.

 
 

So RTW2-2010-Air-Oz will have three stops: the Malay Peninsula, Oz, Dubai. This means four major flights connecting them from and to New York.

 
 

Malay Peninsula Preview Ia : SAL 21   It’s my plan to have previews of information properly belonging within the trip, but that I want to discuss in advance. The simple reason is that it will be less work during the trip, but the added benefit is that, once having read a lot of the background, the trip itself might become more meaningful for the reader, possibly affording a much better understanding of the trip. I plan to have previews of the Malay Peninsula, then, out of sequence, a single preview of Dubai, then multiple previews of Oz.

 
 

I’m hoping that the four-star (4-S) and five-star (5-S) flying experiences on RTW2 will raise in me just a bit of esteem for air travel, and if any flight is going to do it, it’s 5-S long-haul, business class Singapore Airlines (SAL) Flight 21 from New York/Newark to Singapore. Given the distance, there is no choice in accommodation level. SAL has made this flight totally business class. And I’m leaving the long-haul aspect for last: SAL 21 is the longest nonstop, regularly-scheduled commercial flight in the world, scheduled at 18h50. And it’s absolutely the longest, since even the return flight to New York is just a few minutes shorter, presumably due to tailwinds. The route runs 16,600 km (10,314 mi) using an Airbus A340-500. There are just 100 seats that are 76 cm (30 in) wide, in a 1-2-1 layout, and the seats fold down into a flat bed, which is not unique to this flight, but is something I’ve never experienced before. I also read that it has a passenger corner for self-service snacks and drinks. This should be a formidable experience.

 
 

I have a video in two parts that’s very good about informing about SAL 21. Obviously, what it shows will be new to us all, and I won’t be able to comment further until after I’ve experienced it myself in August. But before I present it, I want to comment on the international nature of travel and on the international nature of research, and therefore, of this website. In order to comment, I need to present and discuss, for those who do not know it, an invaluable French expression: on se débrouille. Following its philosophy will help in travel, in research, and in life itself. First, you can’t use it much if you can’t pronounce it, and, since it’s not easy to tell how to pronounce it from the spelling, let’s talk about it.

 
 

The first two words are pronounced as one: AW[NG]SS. You’ll recall that I use NG in brackets not to pronounce NG, but to show that the previous vowel is pronounced nasally. DÉ- rhymes with café. For the rest, start by saying BRU, just like “brew”, then attach a Y-sound to the same syllable: BRU’Y. So if you say aw[ng]ss.dé.BRU’Y, you’ve got on se débrouille.

 
 

[The device of using NG to indicate a French nasal vowel outside of French is not mine. It’s standardly used in Swedish spelling, where “restaurant” is “restaurang”, both in spelling and pronunciation. I’m using NG not to be pronounced, but only to indicate the nasality of the vowel.]

 
 

The philosophy of what it means is marvelous, and you can translate it using any phrase like these: You’ll manage. You’ll make it. You’ll cope. We’ll get through it. Little things won’t hold us back. It’ll all work out fine in the end. In other words, on se débrouille.

 
 

But one should really understand why something like this means what it does, so let’s take it apart. The noun brouille denotes confusion, a mess. As a verb, brouiller means to confuse, to muddle, to mix things up. For example, it’s the word meaning to shuffle (cards) or to jam (radio signals). It’s a word that leaves chaos. On the other hand, you can reverse this chaos by adding DE-, so débrouiller means to clear up, to unmuddle, and, one step further se débrouiller, because it means literally “to de-confuse yourself”, ends up meaning to cope, to manage, to get yourself through the little confusions of life. It’s a great impetus for survival. Literally, the phrase on se débrouille means “one dis-entangles oneself”, that is, one gets by, one manages, one copes--when traveling, when researching, in life.

 
 

Why do I bring up this fabulous phrase now? Well, when I show a video on the Bernina Pass in Switzerland narrated in German, with a bit of commentary on my part, on se débrouille. The excellent Marco Polo map we’ve used has a text in Russian, but on se débrouille. There are some extremely long Hawaiian names, especially of fish, and on se débrouille perfectly well. And the excellent two-part video on SAL 21 we are about to see was made for German television, and believe me,on se débrouille with a minimum of trouble and effort. And using a French expression in regard to a German program describing a flight between the US and Singapore proves by itself the international nature of travel, research, and life experience.

 
 

The video was made for German TV, not only because the subject matter is interesting, but because the chief caterer for the airline, who works out of Singapore and who walks us through the facilities and the plane, is German. We will therefore have the experience of seeing a German TV program from news channel N24, and I’ll comment so that you’ll know quite well what you’re watching. And anyway, on se débrouille.

 
 

Since we’re talking about The Longest Flight in the World, it’s extremely appropriate that the program is called Der längste Flug der Welt, where each German word happens to correspond quite clearly to each English word. And to get us in the proper mood, standing in a street in Cologne/Köln, hier ist N24-Reporter Steffen Schwarzkopf mit Kameramann. (On se débrouille.)

 
 

Note, and keep in mind, that the video shows the trip in reverse order, from Singapore to New York. You might recognize that the announcer rounds the trip time up to 19h. Later a very high price is quoted for the cost of the trip. I don’t know where they got that figure, because even online I found a price that was 48% of that, and with the discount from the consolidator, I’m paying only 44% of it.

 
 

You will follow most of what you see without needing the narration. In the first part, note in particular two things. You’ll see the catering kitchens in Singapore, with the pre-tasting of the three meals that will be served. Then you’ll find that the crew of 13 plus four pilots work on four-hour shifts, and at 4:18 on the tape you’ll hear the narrator calling a “Mini-Hotel” the crew facilities in the lower part of the plane. Hier ist Der längste Flug der Welt, Teil 1.

 
 

The second part of the video is particularly good at showing the 1-2-1 layout for passenger seating, dining, and flat-bed sleeping. If anything can restore a modicum of faith in comfortable air travel, this 5-S trip will have to be it. Hier ist Der längste Flug der Welt, Teil 2.

 
 

Malay Peninsula Preview Ib : Raffles   In planning the trip to the Malay Peninsula, including the rail trip on the Eastern and Oriental from Singapore to Bangkok, there were two givens that stood out clearly before anything else was even thought of: it would have to involve an arrival on SAL 21, and even moreso, it would have to include a stay at the Raffles Hotel. Even though my usual preference is a quiet mid-range hotel, when the hotel is this iconic--and no hotel is more iconic than the Raffles--I don’t just want to visit it while in Singapore as many do--it’s a major landmark--I want to stay there, despite its price. If any location embodies and symbolizes the British Raj, it’s the Raffles. We’ll discuss Singapore and the peninsula at a later time; now we talk just about a hotel. I’m a little wary describing something without actually having seen it, and do hope it lives up to its reputation, but again, the purpose of these previews is to create a similar feeling of anticipation for readers as I have.

 
 

Since we’re describing colonial atmosphere as it projects into modern times, let’s define just what we’re talking about. Raj (rhymes with “dodge”) is the Hindustani word for “reign”, but the word has extended itself in meaning from just the time of the colonial reign of the British Raj, usually considered to be from 1858 to 1947, but also to the place of that reign, so in a sense it can correspond to “kingdom”. In other words, you can say that an event took place during the Raj, or that a location was a part of the Raj. (Related words are Raja, or “king” and Maharaja, or “great king”. [Both words can also be spelled with an H at the end.]) That the word Raj is Hindustani also indicates an association with India (India at the time including today’s Pakistan Bangla Desh, and the small Himalayan countries), but in actual use it extends beyond into South Asia (Burma, Sri Lanka) and beyond. Even British Somaliland in Africa was part of the Raj for a while, as were all nine Persian Gulf emirates, including Abu Dhabi and Dubai. They were called at the time the Trucial States and even used the Indian rupee. And most pertinent to this discussion, Singapore was part of the Raj from its inception, but technically only for the period 1858 to 1867, yet the Colonial Raj ambiance and atmosphere remained.

 
 

In 1887 the four Armenian Sarkies brothers opened the original Raffles Hotel on Beach Road as a bungalow with just ten rooms, although two wings were added shortly thereafter. They named after Sir Stamford Raffles, Singapore’s founder. At the time, Beach Road was logically named, so the Raffles could have been considered a beachfront hotel. However, landfill has extensively changed local geography, and neither Beach Road nor the Raffles is on the water today.

 
 

The hotel’s literary tradition started with an early visit by Joseph Conrad, when he was still a seaman. Then Rudyard Kipling stopped by in 1899. The Palm Court wing and Main wing further enlarged the property, and the hotel began to attract both locals and travelers.

 
 

In 1902 an incident occurred that remains iconic to this day about the hotel. One of the last tigers in Singapore (although some versions of the story say the tiger had merely escaped from a show) was shot at the Raffles underneath the billiard room, which was at the time a raised structure. This was during the hotel’s heyday, and guests arrived from everywhere. At some point at about 1910-1915, a Raffles bartender created the Singapore Sling, and this cocktail became iconic as well for the Raffles.

 
 

By the twenties and thirties, it expanded to become a mecca for celebrities. In 1921, Somerset Maugham made the first of several visits to the Raffles, returning again in 1926 and 1959. He apparently wove information gleaned from guests at dinner parties into his stories. The twenties also saw visits by Charlie Chaplin, Maurice Chevalier, and Jean Harlow. Noel Coward stayed here in 1930 while he appeared in a local theater.

 
 

But as elsewhere, the Great Depression struck Singapore and the Raffles, and in 1931, after the death of the last of the four Sarkies brothers, the Raffles went into receivership. Eventually a new public company, Raffles Hotel Ltd, assumed ownership.

 
 

In 1941, WWII arrived in Singapore with a Japanese bombing raid. British families came down the Malay Peninsula in advance of the arriving Japanese and took refuge in the Raffles, after which Singapore surrendered. In 1945, the Japanese took their turn at surrendering to the British, who took control of Singapore once again.

 
 

Although the Raffles had suffered during the war, famous visitors still arrived, including Ava Gardner and Elizabeth Taylor during the fifties. Other literary guests were Anthony Burgess and James A. Michener. Yet as the decades passed, even a hotel that’s a legend, a Grande Dame, shows its age. It had survived the Great Depression and the War, but would it actually reach a full century of life?

 
 

The way that it did survive, revive, and not only surpass its centenary, but is expecting to celebrate 125 years in 2012, being now stronger than ever is explained in How we Built the Most Famous Hotels: Raffles Hotel, Singapore by Andreas Augustin (Vienna, 2006). A quality product, such as a play or film, is not preordained to success in today’s world unless it is presented well to the public; simply put, promoted, or marketed. As Augustin explains, by 1986, Raffles was in trouble. The previous management had turned over the keys two decades earlier, predicting it would close in six months. There was no investment money coming in, so management needed to be creative. Journalists and other writers were invited to stay and write; not only was this tradition at Raffles, but who better could spread the hotel’s story? In fact, Augustin himself moved in for three years and wrote three books. Furthering this literary vein, suites were named after famous authors and celebrities.

 
 

The Long Bar is well-known. Last year in New Zealand, when I was in Wellington, I stopped for dinner at a little place serving Malaysian food called the Long Bar Restaurant. How many bars are famous enough to have places named after them? But as it turns out, it was only during the changes in the late 1980’s that the bar at Raffles was moved, and only then renamed the Long Bar. In addition, at the time, only about 20 Singapore Slings were served per day at Raffles. But then, over the new Long Bar a sign was put up saying “Where the Singapore Sling Originated”, and before long, the Long Bar was serving 2,000 Singapore Slings per day.

 
 

India is one of the many cultures influencing Singapore, and a tiffin is a three-tiered container Indian workers carry their lunch in, in other words, it’s an Indian lunch pail, but by extension, it’s a light noon meal. As early as 1976, the hotel’s main dining room had been called the Tiffin Room, although tiffin curry has been served there since 1899. The Tiffin Room today serves a curry buffet daily at both lunch and dinner.

 
 

Raffles was founded in December, 1887, so the centenary was to be in 1987. But by 1986, business was poor enough that something had to be done. So as a promotion, the centenary was celebrated one year early, and the old tiger story was trotted out anew. It was claimed that the centenary was being celebrated in 1986 since that was the Year of the Tiger, and it would be more fortuitous. The story of the tiger having been caught under the billiard room suddenly blossomed into a tiger having been caught, more dangerously, under the billiard table itself, and a live tiger was paraded out to be photographed on top of the billiard table, no less. Nearby, the Tiger Tavern Bar was created.

 
 

Then, in the actual centenary year of 1987, the Singapore government declared the Raffles Hotel a National Monument.

 
 

The Raffles Museum was founded, and Raffles souvenirs of all sorts started being sold in the gift shops. Visitors wanted historical information on the hotel in many languages, and Augustin wrote his book on historic hotels, originally in German, with Raffles being the first one written about.

 
 

In 1989, Raffles closed for a long-overdue complete renovation. It was restored to its elegant look of the 1910s and 1920s: grand arches, 4.2 m (14 ft) ceilings, spinning fans, tiled teak and marble floors, a public lobby, plus a private lobby just for residents. In 1991 it reopened, looking like it did in 1915. It now included 65 shops in the Raffles Arcade. A cookbook was published, and cooking classes were instituted. It also has a Victorian-style theater.

 
 

In 1996 Raffles was named for the second time the first and only “Superior Deluxe” hotel in Singapore, chosen out of 250,000 hotels worldwide by the Official Hotel Guide, a leading hotel reference work. In 1994 and 1996 it was voted the world’s “Leading Independent Hotel” at the World Travel Awards in Las Vegas, based on exemplary service and excellence. In 2006 it hosted Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip on their state visit to Singapore.

 
 

This is a rather well-done short video on the Raffles Hotel in Singapore. You’ll recognize the Long Bar, and note the peanuts sitting next to the Singapore Sling. The Long Bar is one of those places where you toss your peanut shells on the floor, highly unusual in orderly Singapore.

 
 

So the legendary Grande Dame is back, due to modern promotion and marketing. The Raj is long gone, but, in a form of time travel, the Raj can be experienced via the old-fashioned air and colonial style of the Raffles. It’s been described as the only hotel in Singapore where you can play out the colonial traveler fantasy, so it’s apparently “very Raj”. But we shall see.

 
 

Malay Peninsula Preview Ic : Coward’s Mad Dogs   There are two reasons to discuss Noël Coward’s classic signature patter song Mad Dogs and Englishmen at this point, a phrase that has become part of the language. Coward had been a guest at Raffles, for one thing. But there is a Raj flavor/flavour to the song, which parodies traveling/travelling Englishmen who do not adapt to local conditions when necessary, such as “in tropical climes”, and venture out into the midday sun, along with, for instance, “mad dogs”. By extension, of course, this can be a sendup of any tourist (I say tourist, not traveler/traveller) who does not adapt to local conditions no matter where. The first thing that comes to mind is a tourist in Spain who insists on an “early” dinner at his customary hour at home but contrary to Spain’s late dining customs. The key phrase there is “at home”, and brings to mind the very good advice to travelers/travellers given by “When in Rome, do as the Romans do”, or its more vivid German counterpart “Unter den Wölfen muss man heulen”, or “Among the wolves you’ve got to howl”.

 
 

Apparently Coward did write the song in Asia, close to, but not within the limits of the Raj. Apparently the weather in Viet Nam was similar enough to remind him of travel in the Raj, and it’s reported that he wrote the entire song, lyrics and music, “in his head”, as I like to say, while driving from Hanoi to Saigon.

 
 

You would expect perhaps that Coward would have premiered his work, if not in Asia (Singapore? India?) then certainly in London, given the theme. Yet it always amazes me the amount of European music that was premiered in New York. Gilbert and Sullivan premiered all their comic operas in London, with one single exception, The Pirates of Penzance, which they premiered in New York in 1879, where it played for three months before its London debut the following year.

 
 

Still digressing, it’s breathtaking how many European works debuted in New York’s Carnegie Hall, including works by Richard Strauss, Rachmaninoff, and Stravinsky. Perhaps it’s less of a surprise that Antonín Dvořák premiered his highly popular New World Symphony at Carnegie Hall (to extended cheering after each movement) in 1893 during his 1892 to 1895 visit to the United States.

 
 

[As a further “language” extension to this digression, although Dvořák’s Ninth Symphony is popularly called the New World Symphony, you’re probably aware that it’s properly named the Symphony “From the New World”, which I suppose it was. Here’s its original title page showing, along with the mention of New York, that name in English below the Czech version. To illustrate the similarity between two Slavic languages, the name in Czech is Z Nového svĕta and in Russian it’s Из Нового света / Iz Novogo sveta. Compare the two, but then note that even in Czech it has the same alternate name as in English of Novosvĕtská Symfonie.]

 
 

Ah, but now back to Coward and to befuddled Englishmen visiting the Raj. Mad Dogs and Englishmen was premiered, not in Asia, not in London, but also in New York, as part of a show at the Music Box Theater in 1931, sung by the comedienne Beatrice Lillie. Due to its popularity, it eventually became a signature feature of Noël Coward’s cabaret act.

 
 

I’ve found on YouTube a 1955 video of Coward himself performing it on TV, but I must offer a caveat. It being a patter song, it’s fast and sometimes hard to follow, and the recording is less than perfect. But Coward was SO used to singing it, and so familiar with it himself, that he goes at top speed and it’s harder than ever to follow. Before you listen to it, I suggest you review the lyrics here below.

 
 
 In tropical climes / There are certain times / Of day
When all the citizens retire / To take their clothes off and perspire.
It's one of those rules / That the greatest fools / Obey,
Because the sun is far too sultry / And one must avoid its ultry / Violet ray.
The natives grieve / When the white men leave / Their huts.
Because they're obviously, / Definitely / Nuts.

Mad dogs & Englishmen / Go out in the midday sun.
The Japanese don't care to, / The Chinese wouldn't dare to,
Hindus and Argentines / Sleep firmly from twelve to one,
But Englishmen / Detest a / Siesta.
In the Philippines / They have lovely screens / To protect you from the glare.
In the Malay states / There are hats like plates / Which the Britishers won't wear.
At twelve noon / The natives swoon, / And no further work is done,
But mad dogs and Englishmen / Go out in the midday sun!

Such a surprise / For the Eastern eyes / To see,
That though the English are effete, / They're quite impervious to heat.
When the white man rides / Every native hides / In glee.
Because the simple creatures hope he / Will impale his solar topee / On a tree.
It seems such a shame / When the English claim / The Earth,
That they give rise / To such hilarity / And mirth.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, / Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo,
He, he, he, he, he, he, he, he, / Hm, hm, hm, hm, hm, hm.

Mad dogs and Englishmen / Go out in the midday sun.
The toughest Burmese bandit / Can never understand it.
In Rangoon / The heat of noon / Is just what the natives shun,
They put their scotch / Or rye down / And lie down.
In a jungle town / Where the sun beats down / To the rage of man and beast,
The English garb / Of the English sahib / Merely gets a bit more creased.
In Bangkok / At twelve o'clock / They foam at the mouth and run,
But mad dogs and Englishmen / Go out in the midday sun.

Mad dogs and Englishmen / Go out in the midday sun.
The smallest Malay rabbit / Deplores this foolish habit.
In Hong Kong / They strike a gong / And fire off a noonday gun
To reprimand / Each inmate / Who's in late.
In the Mangrove swamps / Where the python romps
There is peace from twelve to two,
Even caribous / Lie around and snooze, / For there's nothing else to do.
In Bengal, / To move at all / Is seldom if ever done.
But mad dogs and Englishmen / Go out in the midday
Out in the midday / Out in the midday / Out in the midday
Out in the midday / Out in the midday / Out in the midday sun!
 
 

Now here is Noël Coward Singing Mad Dogs and Englishmen.

 
 
 
Back  |   Top  |   Previous Series   |   Next Series