A Trip to Seberang Perai: Crossing to the Mainland
The level of stillness is unusual even for a suburb. While George Town’s narrow streets are just beginning to stir with the sound of cars and hawker stalls clanging to life, here on the mainland the morning moves at a slower and quieter pace. The inner streets are empty, the air heavy with humidity that clings to the skin, and the town itself seems caught between modern workday routine and life that hasn’t changed for decades. It has been a busy weekend in George Town (then again, when has it been not busy in George Town?), and the change is pace is instantly noticeable.
A few days ago, even before I was in Malaysia, I found myself wondering where to spend my last morning in Penang (I’ve already climbed Penang Hill and biked around Balik Pulau). The easy answer would have been Batu Ferringhi, where most travelers head when they want a day of sand and sea. But part of me felt that George Town, with all its curated charm, would have already given me enough of the tourist side of Penang. I wanted something… well, less staged. A glimpse of the ordinary, if you will.
So I searched for options and stumbled across Butterworth, a name that sounds more like Hogwarts than Malaysia. For a time, I considered crossing the channel just for the curiosity, but the more I read about it, the clearer it became that Butterworth didn’t have much to offer travelers, at least not in the way I was hoping. That was when Bukit Mertajam came into the picture. This Seberang Perai suburb feels like George Town before the tourists arrived. So that’s where I decided to go.
A Town Worn by Time: First Impressions of Bukit Mertajam
I leave my hotel before dawn, head to the bus station in Komtar, and ride across Penang Bridge toward Bukit Mertajam without a clear agenda.
About an hour later, the bus eases to a stop at the station, and right away, the town’s grit is laid bare. The terminal is tucked beneath an old, timeworn building. Its stained concrete walls are testimonies of neglect and the weight of years gone by. A few men—drivers, maybe conductors—chill on the benches, while broken chairs and shuttered doors stand as witnesses to the place’s slow fade into irrelevance, if not obscurity.
Welcome to Bukit Mertajam.
Crossing the highway on foot, I slip into the pace of the morning rush. Compared to Manila, even to George Town, the traffic here is gentle. Cars trickle by along with a handful of pedestrians plying the sidewalks, but the air never bristles with the same urgency I know at home. On the other side, the road begins to bend toward the old town.
Once a quiet farmland, Bukit Mertajam was transformed in the 19th century by spice cultivation and Chinese migrants who opened plantations and quarries at the hill’s foot. These settlers built the town’s early economy, and by the late 1800s, with roads and a railway connecting it to Penang’s port, Bukit Mertajam became a transit hub and administrative center. The Chinese influence here extend to the town’s architectural and cultural aspects, and still resonates in every carved shophouse façade.
I walk without much of a plan, guided less by Google Maps (my roaming data isn’t working) than by whatever I see interesting to approach and take a picture of. I find an eatery among a row of restaurants and shops, the only one open this early on a weekday morning. The place is so modest, it reminds me of a cheap restaurant in, say, Quiapo or Recto. I order a plate of nasi lemak with chicken rendang—spicy, rich, and served on an olive green plate. It’s the first taste of a place I chose for its obscurity, a town that had escaped the polish of tourism.
After my meal, I drift into the old town. Just a few steps away stands Peck Kong Cheng, a small Chinese temple that serves as a reminder of Bukit Mertajam’s deep Chinese roots. It knits itself with the same thread woven throughout the town, in the way shrines, shophouses, and clan halls continue to shape daily life backdropped by centuries of tradition.
I continue walking, reaching the market and a couple of other buildings that clearly have seen better days. Without a working roaming, though, I have little more than instinct to guide me. The reference website I’ve saved is unavailable offline, and before long the rows of weathered shophouses begin to blur together. Time-worn walls, faded paint, shuttered windows: every street feels interchangeable, like I can circle the same block forever without realizing it.
Eventually, I give up trying to make sense of it and simply follow the one landmark still visible offline in my Google Maps: the Minor Basilica of St. Anne. The sanctuary traces its beginnings to the 1840s, when Chinese and Indian migrant workers, many of whom were Hakka farmers, settled here and were ministered to by French missionaries. The very first chapel, built atop the hill by Father Adolphe Couellan in 1846, still leaves a foundation stone visible today. As the community grew, a larger church arose in 1888 under Fr. Sorin. He died on St. Anne’s Feast Day in 1907, and was buried inside the church he built.
On the map, the church looks deceptively close from the old town, but the walk stretches into half an hour under the steady heat. By the time I reach the site, my soles are sore, only to find the gates closed. The church itself stands at a distance. For a moment I question the wisdom of trekking all that way just to take a photograph from afar.
Still, the detour has its rewards. The hill rising gently behind the church gives the whole scene a calm gravity, and the air around it feels serene. On the way back, I pass a secondary school with classes just starting, students lining outside their classrooms in uniforms not so different from those back home. Watching them, I think again of our own students and how certain details can reverberate across countries.
Stumbling Upon the House of Tan Sri Wong Pow Nee and Back to Peck Kong Cheng
Back in the old town, I find myself standing in front of the old family home of Tan Sri Wong Pow Nee, Penang’s first Chief Minister and one of the sites I remember from my online reference. I was actually just lucky to stumble upon it as I tried to take a different path going to Peck Kong Cheng.
Sitting quietly on Jalan Datuk Ooh Chooi Cheng, the old house is a two-story structure from 1907, its roof sprouting weeds, with vines draped lazily over its walls. A small plaque fixed by the Seberang Perai City Council is the only outward sign that this place once belonged to a man who helped guide Malaysia through independence. Time has not been kind to it, and what was once a proud family home now looks like it’s slowly returning to earth. The house itself is under renovation, its lower half obscured by blue corrugated metal sheets. Only the upper part remains visible, peeking above the enclosure like a memory refusing to be erased.
After taking pictures of the old house, I walk back toward Peck Kong Cheng, this time slipping into the small food court beside the temple where a few hawker stalls have set up shop. I walk around a bit to soak in the atmosphere of the place, with its mix of people chattering, cutlery clinking, and the scent of spices drifting from the stalls. Still heavy from my breakfast of chicken rendang, I skip the full meals and settle for a glass of tea and a curry puff. I find a quiet corner, pull out the latest novel I bought from my backpack, and start reading like the performative male—er, bookworm—I am.
A Detour to Butterworth: Final Stop Before Crossing Back
About an hour later, I board another bus, but instead of heading straight back to George Town, I decide to take the one bound for Penang Sentral in Butterworth. It feels like a small detour worth making, a way to at least catch a glimpse of the city with a Hogwarts-sounding name before my trip comes to an end. The terminal itself is lively with locals rushing to their buses and travelers hauling luggage to the docked ferry. I wander around for a while, eventually picking up a few boxes of Beryl’s chocolates as souvenirs.
Soon after, I find myself drawn to the upper deck of the ferry terminal. From there, the view opens up to the sea, its light blue water stretching far and wide under the harsh late morning light. Port waters usually are murky, but here it feels delicate and almost ethereal. Across the strait, the skyline of Penang Island rises faintly in the distance. It’s where I had just been, yet now already feels a little dreamlike.
I sit at a table there for a while, simply cherishing the moment. Just me, the sea, the breeze, and the distant city waiting on the horizon. A certain sweetness permeates in savoring that stillness, in realizing how satisfying life can feel in such simple things. Even if it lasts only a little while, it’s enough to make this whole morning detour fulfilling.
Bukit Mertajam Travel Basics
Timing
- Bukit Mertajam is a year-round destination, but the cooler, drier months from December to February make exploring on foot more comfortable. That said, this is Penang, so even a sudden rain shower can add a bit of charm to the narrow streets.
Access
- From George Town, Bukit Mertajam is about 40 minutes by car across the bridge or via the Penang Second Bridge.
- Another way to get to Bukit Mertajam from George Town is by taking the ferry from the pier near the Clan Jetties. The fare is around MYR 2, but note that it’s cashless only. You’ll need to pay with a debit or credit card, or through a cashless payment app. The ferry drops you off at Butterworth on the mainland, where you can then catch a bus from Penang Sentral to Bukit Mertajam (MYR 2).
- The Free CAT Bus also connects the two cities, but the schedules are infrequent. If you plan to go to Bukit Mertajam in the morning, the next bus returning directly to George Town is at 4:30 p.m.
Transportation
- The old town is compact and best seen on foot, with its mix of temples, markets, and heritage shophouses.
- For places further afield, such as St. Anne’s Church, Grab is an easy and relatively affordable option (make sure your roaming is working).
Food
- For a small town, Bukit Mertajam’s old quarter packs in plenty of food options. Ali Nasi Kandar is a classic stop, known for its generous plates and nasi lemak.
- Just a few steps away, the Pek Kong Cheng hawker area offers an easygoing spot to graze on local favorites or grab a snack while soaking in the town’s charms.
- Fusion Café provides a more relaxed setting to provide a nice balance to the buzz of the street stalls outside.
The Tourist Gaze 