Click here to return to main menu
|
|
|
|
Recommended Links: Saga specialise in over 50's Travel
Insurance Budget offer cheaper Travel
Insurance
online Challenge Churchill with your Online
Travel Insurance
|
|
Island escapes
Read about escapes to paradise islands
Food travel
Read all about gastronomic travels
Wildlife
Destinations
where wildlife is obligingly on display
Eco-tourism
Green travel
exploits
City breaks
What is it with Brits and islands? As a nation, we are only content when truly cut off on our own island. The beauty of many islands lies in their variety - Langkawi's exotic archipelago does not disappoint.
Floating on your back in a magical lake, flopping out on castaway beaches, and staying at the gorgeous Bon Ton Resort (above) are just some of the erudite pleasures of Langkawi. Photograph: Bonton Resort.
The lure of Langkawi is immense. I’m floating on my back in the dead-centre of the Lake of the Pregnant Maiden with moustachioed catfish nibbling my toes. That sounds alarming but catfish are as friendly as your everyday goldfish. It’s a strangely soothing experience for my tired feet.
Sun-filled and peaceful, the lake is a freshwater body suspended above sea level between sheer rock, its spinach-green waters musical with the sound of an unseen waterfall.
You board a 30-minute speedboat ride from Langkawi’s main island, beaching on this remote speck of limestone, the quay guarded by a pair of Giant Hornbills. Follow this by a short stroll through the rainforest, the air electrified by cicadas, and you arrive at the lake. You can imagine mermaids swimming here.
Legend says that a white crocodile lives in the lake and that any female bathing in the magic waters will bear children. Only time will tell if my female companion produces off-spring, but there is no sign of the crocodile as we splash around.
The lake is named after a fairy princess who buried her stillborn baby under its waters and then gave the island a blessing of enduring fertility. If you look carefully, you may see the outline of hills and rocky outcrops on one side of the lake resembles the shape of a pregnant maiden lying on her back.
A swim in the eerie waters is balm to any Northern European’s soul; as we explore the lake and island, we find it to be perfect paradise material.
I'm pinching myself that just two hours ago, I was on the last leg of a 12-hour flight from London, jet-lagged and winter weary.
Coming into land, the sensuous appearance of Langkawi opened up from the ‘plane window, with quick glimpses of flecks of islands, top-heavy palm trees and dramatic peaks cloaked in jungle. My body clock felt seriously out of sync when we flopped out onto the tarmac for the short walk to the terminal building, blinded by local women wearing purple and pollen-yellow tudongs.
Oh but that's the flight and it seems days ago. I feel in a blissful state as I float with the noise of the jungle close by, until it's time to return to the main island.
On an island that promotes the sensuous spirit, you can do no better than book into Bon Ton, seven wooden, individually-painted antique houses on stilts, situated beneath swaying palms. I feel chilled out the moment I check in.
Some time later, we return from our swimming expedition at the lake and we’re ferociously hungry. The Bon Ton’s eatery serves Nyonya cuisine, a fusion food blending together Chinese, Indonesian and Thai cooking.
Dishes include laksa, noodles in a spicy coconut soup with seafood, lemongrass, pineapple, chilli and beansprouts. Or there is otak-otak, fish mashed with coconut milk and chilli, served on a banana leaf.
I sip delicious vodka tonics, limey and chilled by huge chunks of ice, whilst watching the moon rise. I am startled by what at first appears to be a pygmy crouching in the shadows of the open courtyard, ready for attack. It’s a trick of the light. I look again and see the place is crowded with classic Balinese antiques, carved in the rainforests and exquisitely beautiful
.
I meet Narelle, the Australian owner of Bon Ton, who also set up a charity that takes in and looks after Langkawi’s abandoned dogs and cats, a cause close to my own heart.
I talk to her about my house for the week – the bed alone is the size of my entire lounge at my flat back in England. “On Friday, we will sail to a fjord”, Narelle says. I had never associated Malaysia with fjords.
Next morning, time slows to a few frames per second as I walk one mile down a sandy lane to Pantai Cenang beach, under a seamless, blue rectangle of sky. They are the palest sands I’ve seen and the Andaman Sea is blood warm.
The beach bar at the Casa del Mar serves a slice of dragon-fruit that will quench the worst of thirsts.
A circular road rings the island. Car hire is inexpensive.
I’ve heard about a cable car ride at Mount Gunung Machinchang where you can see all of Langkawi’s islands. It seems a good place to get my bearings.
En route, I stop at a roadside stall to buy rice and fish (lemang) cooked in a hollow piece of bamboo and local honey sold in beautiful red glass jars, sealed with beeswax.
The cable car takes me to the top of the mountain and from here the view is far-reaching. I wanted to conquer some of the islands I surveyed, wanted to stake my claim on them; in a few days, I will.
Time on Langkawi seems to curl in on itself back to childhood summers.
After a few days on the beach or exploring the kampungs, you can make an appointment with a ‘rejam’ to learn about traditional medicines or visit the Thai-style summer palace where the revised version of The King & I was filmed.
Island-hoppers can set sail for a champagne lunch on a desert island. You chose the island you like the most and the captain will drop you off and pick you up later. Some islands are so small you can walk round them in twenty minutes. Hammocks can be provided to string between palms.
Pulau Payar Marine Park is 19 miles southwest of Langkawi, an island with sparkling ocean where even timid swimmers can slide from the floating pontoon and snorkel through coral gardens amongst multi-coloured fish. The clown fish are scary.
Back on dry land, the Flying Fox Canopy Adventure sees me traversing the tree-tops like Tarzan, attached only to a steel wire – the finale involves sailing through the air on a slide into a 40ft strangled fig-tree and then abseiling down to earth.
On Thursday, I am dropped off at a river jetty where I meet Dev, the island’s naturalist. We board a small speedboat and head off into the unknown.
The mangrove swamps are exotic and wildlife is obliging on display: the batik snake, so called because it is patterned like the fabric, a baby crocodile, Brahminy kite eagles overhead, sea monitor lizards and angel-fish, coloured like bees and swimming in shoals around our boat.
A bird looking like a finch yet with metallic-green feathers poses on a rock. We head out to sea, weaving past mysterious islands with a string of twelve ‘pocket’ beaches where we get close enough to observe monkeys lunching on hermit crabs, before landing at a secluded spot.
Dev waves excitedly at a cave. It’s dark inside and knee-deep in water. Rustling sounds signal that we are not alone. Fortunately, the back of the cave opens out into a green valley where we see huge reptilian prints in the mud.
Luckily for us, we don’t see the animal that
made these tracks.
Friday comes and we sail to the fjord. I look at the map but
it’s studded with so many islands it’s hard to know
where we are. There are a few other tourists on board the yacht, and
Narelle serves satay and orange juice.
We pass an island looking like the place where James Bond ended up in
The Man with The Golden Gun. Forty minutes later, the yacht squeezes
between two islands and a fjord of glassy, green water opens up.
It’s smaller than any Norwegian fjord, but well worth sailing
to. Everyone plunges in for a swim in this little corner of Eden at the
jungle’s edge.
Back on the main island, it’s a short drive to the Gulai
House, one of Asia’s best restaurants, set in a 250-million
year old rainforest. I recommend the lobster in turmeric coconut milk.
The Gulai is situated next to the Andaman Hotel.
If you want to experience luxury with a rainforest all around you, the
Andaman is for you.
My final day is spent here, exploring the coast by kayak and bike. A
willowy lady swathed in orange cloth greets me as I return to the
Andaman and escorts me to the Jamu Spa, a temple of well-being.
After a full-body massage, a bright red paste is smeared onto my body
and left to dry. The treatment is called Tongkat Ali, an ancient
treatment used by Malay princesses.
The paste is washed off and I am lowered into a spice baththe beach
from where I watch the sun set, positioned in an open-air courtyard
with a view of the beach, from where I wash the sun set.
It's the perfect end to the perfect week.
Flights
Malaysia Airlines fly direct to Langkawi
from Heathrow and Manchester (www.malaysiaairlines.com)
I