Penang Hill — Photo courtesy: Hzh — Wikimedia Commons
As a child, I remember a neighbour’s oldest son, talking about Butterworth. He was a pilot who’d once been stationed there, so when we took a train up Penang Hill, we could see Georgetown below and across the sea, Butterworth on the mainland.
Being small at the time, I’d thought my pilot neighbour adventurous: flying planes; being stationed overseas; owing the snazziest two-seater car with a boot (trunk) that opened into extra seats. Now I stood looking across at the very place he’d talked about so often with a nostalgic feeling for my innocent childhood.