No trains here!

I’ve known this building for as long as I’ve lived. In the old postcards of Penang Harbour, this clock tower always stood out, rising above the surrounding buildings. It was prominent then; it’s still prominent today. When I started working at Ban Hin Lee Bank in 1977, at the other end of China Street Ghaut, I’d see it every single day after crossing over from Butterworth by ferry. Alongside the Ban Hin Lee Bank billboard glowing atop the Yeap Chor Ee building, the clock tower was a defining sight of the area. And yet, for all its grandeur, I never once heard it chime—not because I wasn’t paying attention, but because it had no bell to strike the hour. More recently, I was walking along this road again, and as always, I looked up at the tower to admire its presence. Boy, what an edifice indeed!

This was once the Malayan Railway Station building, though calling it a railway station was a bit misleading. Built in 1905, it never had any train tracks, let alone a platform or locomotives rolling in and out. Instead, it functioned as the ticketing and administrative hub for the Federated Malay States Railway in the north. Passengers would buy their train tickets here before making their way to the FMS Railway Jetty at the end of China Street Ghaut. From there, they’d board a ferry to Prai, where their rail journey truly began. It was an unusual system, but it worked to connect the island to the Malayan railway network on the mainland.

The building itself was an architectural statement. Designed in 1904 by Arthur Benison Hubback—a British architect who would later design Kuala Lumpur’s iconic railway station—it was a striking blend of Neo-Classical and Indo-Saracenic styles. Construction began in 1905 and was completed by early 1909. At the time, it was the largest building in Penang, and its domed clock tower was the tallest structure in town. Inside, it housed railway administration offices, private businesses, a booking hall, a restaurant and even some basic accommodation.

By the 1960s, its railway days were over. Ticket sales were sub-contracted out to various parties, and I still remember buying my train tickets from the Howe Cheang Dispensary in Penang Road in the 1980s. Meanwhile, the Customs Department took over the building, and before long, people simply referred to it as the Customs Building, or Wisma Kastam. It’s fascinating how a place can change identities over the years—what began as a transport hub eventually became used for an entirely different purpose.

Even now, the building stands as a quiet yet imposing reminder of Penang’s past—a "railway station without a rail" that once played a crucial role in linking the island to the rest of Malaya. And every time I walk past it, I still can’t help but glance up at that clock tower, as I have for decades, admiring just how grand it still looks.

I’d initially posted this picture to my facebook, describing it as "uniquely, a railway station without trains." A friend from faraway Dittisham in England commented that there’s a similar railway station without trains in Dartmouth, just a few miles from where she lived. Since there was no railway bridge across the River Dart, rail passengers from Dartmouth had to take a ferry to Kingswear to catch their train. Another unique feature that bounds Penang and Devon!