I always enjoy my leisurely drives to Batu Ferringhi, the seaside town that is Penang’s popular holiday spot. Going up the winding road, I pass by many things which to me are things that dreams are made of.
On the right, trees with thick green leaves sway in the wind, against the blue backdrop of the sea and the sky. Different shades of blue are decorated by white fluffy clouds, sometimes it’s an empty blue sky over a glistening sea. Occasionally, especially on weekends, you see colourful moving dots when para gliders have the time of their lives, or rapid trails of foam on the water made by jet skis.
And then, of course, there are the waterfront bungalows and condominiums that line the road that leads to Batu Ferringhi, and assuming that the people living in these swanky properties are also happy with their lives, themselves, and what they do – these too, are things that dreams are made of, in my books.So two weekends ago, I made yet another leisurely drive up to this place, this time with the intention of having a quiet breakfast by myself at the Ferringhi Coffee Garden while catching up with some work. I wanted a huge, heartily rich and sinful breakfast in a calm setting that will get my ideas flowing so this had to be one of the best places in Penang that fit my purpose.
I found the restaurant right by the main road in the town, albeit cleverly hidden and ensconced in flowers and trees – yes, it is literally a garden. I disregarded nagging thoughts of insects falling onto my plate (or worse, head) and chose the table at the outdoor corner that was placed right before some tall leafy plants that hovered closely over my head. I ordered my coffee and their biggest breakfast, and turned on my laptop and started taking in the scenery before my eyes – I couldn’t ask for a better place to have breakfast. The food was good, and I ate while enjoying the beautiful garden, and taking peeks at the electronic screen in front of me – the nitty gritty of my dreams that non-dreamers call ‘work’. Occasionally I put down my fork and knife to type down the inspiration that struck, while my mouth remained busy chewing and eating. Sometimes the jazz music they played was so good, I hummed along.
I ended up sitting there for at least 3 hours, leaving only when the sky looked like it was about to rain. On my way out I realized the owners had cleverly tiled the path that led to the restaurant.I got into my car and started my journey out of Batu Feringghi, once again passing by the things that dreams (or at least my dreams) are made of – the calmness of a blue sea, the optimism of a blue sky on a sunny day, the freedom of birds in the air, the courage and uninhibitedness of a daredevil jet skier, the life and vitality of robust leafy trees, the luxury of some of the world’s best hotels, where people who know they are worth it indulge themselves, and the dream homes lining the path, tangible fruits of an honest life’s work and seeds sown wisely. And of course, the beauty of a garden restaurant like Ferringhi Coffee Garden, and the passion with which the food was made, served and eaten.
I will be back again, anytime my dreams need refueling.