“Assalamualaikum and welcome!” greeted the youngish-looking hotel owner in bahasa melayu, who apparently was already in his fifties, just as soon as we stepped onto the pavement next to the main entrance. His hands were grabbing our loads of luggage, pulling them into the lobby.
“You speak malay very well indeed!” said my other half.
“Sure do! How can we forget? We went to a school in Kuala Lumpur for quite a few years. My brother and I!” said he, motioning his hands to the comfortable seats.
“Oh! How interesting!” I said, lowering myself to the intricately decorated seats.
“Yes! We came from Burma. And during that time, we went to Malaysia to seek greener pastures. Times were getting difficult back home. However, after a few years, renewing visas was quite a hassle, so our father decided to find another country where we could settle in. Now, we are Norwegians and my children study here in the UK. My youngest, still in Cambridge while my eldest just graduated from St. Andrews, Scotland,” he related his past history.
He handed us the keys and ushered us to our rooms; small but very clean. That night, we took a walk in the summer night and had our dinner at one of the numerous halal eateries nearby. We were on our way home to Malaysia, after spending some time in Manchester, while attending our son’s convocation.
“Come in and enjoy your breakfast!” said the elder brother to the one who greeted us yesterday, early the next morning; his voice, cheerful and friendly.
“Thank you!” said my other half as we made our way to the breakfast table, in a cosy sitting area down at the basement.
At the other end, a couple was speaking in a language we could not understand. Once in a while there was laughter when our host joined in their conversation also in the same language.
“What would you like? Coffee, tea?” said the cheery voice again.
“Coffee please! And which country are they from, may I ask?” said my hubby.
“Norway! That is my country now, after we had to move from our country of origin.”
“We just got to know from your younger brother that your family once stayed in Kuala Lumpur. And the two of you went to school there too! Is that true?”
“Yes! It is true!” said he. In his hands were two pots of hot coffee.
“Why didn’t you just stay put?” said my hubby.
“Well! Our visa needed to be renewed every now and then and father had to go through the trouble to get it done. We were offered a permanent place to stay somewhere in East Malaysia. You see, we were city boys; grew up in Rangoon. At that time, Rangoon was not anywhere near what it is now. Beautiful, modern and a city full of heritage and life. Of course, we would not be able to adjust if we move to a remote place like East Malaysia. Father understood and that was why we landed in Norway.”
“But why Norway?” asked my son-in-law.
“Did you know that by owing a Norwegian passport, one does not need a visa to enter whichever country? Father did his homework very well and he was a well-read man. His decision was a wise one. Two of our siblings are doing business in Oslo and take charge of our family home there. While my younger brother and I man this hotel and another restaurant situated at Edgware Road nearby. Once a year, we would fly to Oslo and gather as a big family,” he said, handing us trays of toasts with butter and jam.
“Is your father still around?” said I, curious, helping myself to scrambled eggs, tempting looking mixed beans and corn, with red peppers thrown in spicy tasting sauce. How delicious!
“Oh! Yes! He is already in his eighties but still up and about. He was the one who started our family restaurant while our mum helps us here in this hotel. In the mornings, I will be here and at night, I will be helping out at the restaurant. My brother will take over this place at night.”
“You are a hard working man and full of perseverance!” quipped my other half, sipping his cup of coffee while our daughter fed little Nuha some toasts, lined with butter and jam.
“My father always said that you should enjoy doing what you want to do. Then you may reap the harvest of success. He is already well into his eighties and my mother is in her seventies. Both are still healthy and active. Father loves reading and follows whatever that is going on in the world. We are practicing Muslims, do our prayers, fast. Likewise the other pillars of Islam. And one thing I want to share with you. Not a single day went that our hotel is unoccupied. There will always be someone asking to stay. In fact, our place is very popular amongst Muslims because we serve only halal food.”
We sat mesmerized while enoying the scrumptious and filling breakfast that our friendly host had prepared with his own hands.
“I would like to share something too! Our granduncle was the first premier of Burma at that time. Dr. Ba Maw, a muslim lawyer, famous for his struggles to free Burma from the British. In fact, he decided to take up his doctorate in Bordeaux, France just to spite the British and to send them a strong message of his dislike for them. If you were to go to Myanmar now, you would see lots of schools, colleges, hospitals and public places named after him.”
“Those years in Burma, the muslims, even though are a minority, are highly regarded in the society. Because they are highly educated and profound in their knowledge. Furthermore, the economy of the country was mainly held in the muslim’s hands,” said the zealous hotel owner.
“We will definitely come here if we happen to be in London again!” said my son-in-law.
“Yes! Please do! Insha Allah! This strategic location, near to the shopping area of Edgware Road. Plus the fact that it is only within walking distance to the Paddington underground and main train station, conveniently connected to the Heathrow Airport. We are proud to own this place since 4 years ago and are always grateful to God for bestowing us his bounties,“ said our host, his face lighting up in a broad smile.
We acquired lots more life experiences from our two hosts during our two nights’ stay. The hotel which is situated at the tree lined Sussex Gardens, full of greenery and colourful blossoms, in the middle of a 200 year old Victorian terrace. It is not surprising that their family is thriving very well, being listed as one of the top ten budget hotels in London. Their restaurant too!
We now know where we would stay if we happen to be in London again, God willing. Why don’t you?
“You speak malay very well indeed!” said my other half.
“Sure do! How can we forget? We went to a school in Kuala Lumpur for quite a few years. My brother and I!” said he, motioning his hands to the comfortable seats.
“Oh! How interesting!” I said, lowering myself to the intricately decorated seats.
“Yes! We came from Burma. And during that time, we went to Malaysia to seek greener pastures. Times were getting difficult back home. However, after a few years, renewing visas was quite a hassle, so our father decided to find another country where we could settle in. Now, we are Norwegians and my children study here in the UK. My youngest, still in Cambridge while my eldest just graduated from St. Andrews, Scotland,” he related his past history.
He handed us the keys and ushered us to our rooms; small but very clean. That night, we took a walk in the summer night and had our dinner at one of the numerous halal eateries nearby. We were on our way home to Malaysia, after spending some time in Manchester, while attending our son’s convocation.
“Come in and enjoy your breakfast!” said the elder brother to the one who greeted us yesterday, early the next morning; his voice, cheerful and friendly.
“Thank you!” said my other half as we made our way to the breakfast table, in a cosy sitting area down at the basement.
At the other end, a couple was speaking in a language we could not understand. Once in a while there was laughter when our host joined in their conversation also in the same language.
“What would you like? Coffee, tea?” said the cheery voice again.
“Coffee please! And which country are they from, may I ask?” said my hubby.
“Norway! That is my country now, after we had to move from our country of origin.”
“We just got to know from your younger brother that your family once stayed in Kuala Lumpur. And the two of you went to school there too! Is that true?”
“Yes! It is true!” said he. In his hands were two pots of hot coffee.
“Why didn’t you just stay put?” said my hubby.
“Well! Our visa needed to be renewed every now and then and father had to go through the trouble to get it done. We were offered a permanent place to stay somewhere in East Malaysia. You see, we were city boys; grew up in Rangoon. At that time, Rangoon was not anywhere near what it is now. Beautiful, modern and a city full of heritage and life. Of course, we would not be able to adjust if we move to a remote place like East Malaysia. Father understood and that was why we landed in Norway.”
“But why Norway?” asked my son-in-law.
“Did you know that by owing a Norwegian passport, one does not need a visa to enter whichever country? Father did his homework very well and he was a well-read man. His decision was a wise one. Two of our siblings are doing business in Oslo and take charge of our family home there. While my younger brother and I man this hotel and another restaurant situated at Edgware Road nearby. Once a year, we would fly to Oslo and gather as a big family,” he said, handing us trays of toasts with butter and jam.
“Is your father still around?” said I, curious, helping myself to scrambled eggs, tempting looking mixed beans and corn, with red peppers thrown in spicy tasting sauce. How delicious!
“Oh! Yes! He is already in his eighties but still up and about. He was the one who started our family restaurant while our mum helps us here in this hotel. In the mornings, I will be here and at night, I will be helping out at the restaurant. My brother will take over this place at night.”
“You are a hard working man and full of perseverance!” quipped my other half, sipping his cup of coffee while our daughter fed little Nuha some toasts, lined with butter and jam.
“My father always said that you should enjoy doing what you want to do. Then you may reap the harvest of success. He is already well into his eighties and my mother is in her seventies. Both are still healthy and active. Father loves reading and follows whatever that is going on in the world. We are practicing Muslims, do our prayers, fast. Likewise the other pillars of Islam. And one thing I want to share with you. Not a single day went that our hotel is unoccupied. There will always be someone asking to stay. In fact, our place is very popular amongst Muslims because we serve only halal food.”
We sat mesmerized while enoying the scrumptious and filling breakfast that our friendly host had prepared with his own hands.
“I would like to share something too! Our granduncle was the first premier of Burma at that time. Dr. Ba Maw, a muslim lawyer, famous for his struggles to free Burma from the British. In fact, he decided to take up his doctorate in Bordeaux, France just to spite the British and to send them a strong message of his dislike for them. If you were to go to Myanmar now, you would see lots of schools, colleges, hospitals and public places named after him.”
“Those years in Burma, the muslims, even though are a minority, are highly regarded in the society. Because they are highly educated and profound in their knowledge. Furthermore, the economy of the country was mainly held in the muslim’s hands,” said the zealous hotel owner.
“We will definitely come here if we happen to be in London again!” said my son-in-law.
“Yes! Please do! Insha Allah! This strategic location, near to the shopping area of Edgware Road. Plus the fact that it is only within walking distance to the Paddington underground and main train station, conveniently connected to the Heathrow Airport. We are proud to own this place since 4 years ago and are always grateful to God for bestowing us his bounties,“ said our host, his face lighting up in a broad smile.
We acquired lots more life experiences from our two hosts during our two nights’ stay. The hotel which is situated at the tree lined Sussex Gardens, full of greenery and colourful blossoms, in the middle of a 200 year old Victorian terrace. It is not surprising that their family is thriving very well, being listed as one of the top ten budget hotels in London. Their restaurant too!
We now know where we would stay if we happen to be in London again, God willing. Why don’t you?
2 comments:
Wow! I'm happy to hear such a story because there aren't too many practising Muslims around, like that family there, you know. So, tell me - what's the name of the place? And the rate?
Dear D,
Assalamualaikum...
The place is called the Mandalay Picton House B&B. Address: 122 Sussex Gardens.
0207 723 5479 (from UK)
(+44 207 723 5479 from abroad)
Many types of rooms availabe, we took the 3 beds per room, at 70 BP (inclusive breakfast) last July.
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