Pingu in Malaysia

Before travelling to Malaysia we spent a nice Easter in our celebration nest. It was getting warmer so she could take off her winter shawl and hat, but she wouldn’t let me wear my poncho neither. The eggs you can see are not real, Pingvina might be ready for children but I prefer chocolate around me. Hm, we should start to merchandise Pingu chocolate eggs and I could test smell all of them, I take a note for the future.

We had a peaceful family life for a while, got to know each other better, I told Pingvina all about Mexico and heard about every single talkshow episode on TV. My bum stopped hurting from sharing the throne and I also learned to divide my food with this most adorable girl in the world. Because she was too young and inexperienced we soon left her with the grandparents once more and headed off to Malaysia!
It was a tough place for a penguin, I didn’t like this trip very much. Malaysia has good smells, I admit that, for example lovely food markets with fresh fish and car loads of raw meat (shame my mami rushed by so fast), or all the offerings in the temples (a great tradition of feeding the gods), a real Pingu feast. Children were better behaved than everywhere else, just smiling and no sticky fingers and sharp teeth, public transport was well organised, too. BUT WHERE‘S THE ALCOHOL???? A very strange concept, the whole country not drinking beer. And then even more strange, in spite of this we did find these incredibly fantastic gorgeous great superb coffee shops which were not selling coffee at all but BEER!!!! And great smells from fresh kitchen stalls all around. Then it turned out that these were Chinese coffee shops. I was torn between fear of new slavery and divine smells to refresh my brain. The smells won within seconds. No one threw me into the pots, no Sweet Sour Pingu on the menu, I haven’t been stored for 1000 years and not been dried for medicine. It was great. But we only found a few of these places and now we come to problem number 2 in Malaysia: my parents headed for all these remote islands, surrounded by evil water, definitely beer free, they dared to leave me alone in the beach huts all day without Pingvina to hold my wings, with waves crashing while they went UNDERWATER which is downright crazy, and they always decided to stay a day longer again and again$@@#!!!#@*!!!The only fun I had on the islands was taming the stupid crabs, they thought they could get me but I was much too heavy to be carried away. I let them pick some dirt off and then kicked them back into their holes. Hm, maybe Malaysia wasn’t that bad overall, but I had a real bad hangover for weeks from the lack of spiritual nutrition.