This article is written by Justin Rabindra. Justin is a Manager with an Advertising Agency in Delhi. He is also an avid traveler and photographer.
I saw this tiny cafe through half closed doors when we were wandering in Macau on a day trip from Hong Kong. It’s funny how something so mundane can trigger memories from childhood. We used to drive from KL to Penang through palm estates and crossed rivers on ferries along the way. We’d stop for a drink in one of the chinese cafes along the way. They used to be smoke filled and packed mostly with chinese men in sweaty white t-shirts chattering away noisily. I remember learning that you can’t make more Coke come through the straw by tilting the bottle up, drenching the front of my shirt.
They were cafe’s like this one. I remember my feet didn’t reach the floor sitting on one of those chairs. I doubt you see any more of those cafe’s in Malaysia, at least not with cane woven chairs and marble top tables.
A friend from Bombay remarked that the cafe looked like Irani restaurants, also fast disappearing. Who knows where the designs originated and how they are connected.
Justin Rabindra
9 Nov 2008
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