THERE ARE SITUATIONS, during excursions into exotic parts of the world, which could be described as Casablanca moments – you suddenly find yourself in cinematic surroundings that you could never have engineered.
Our landing at Langkawi's airport
was the perfect encapsulation of this thought: skimming in low over the island, palm trees waving madly at us, is as different from touching down on the runway in Glasgow as, say, taking tea at the Savoy is from a fish supper at the local chippy.
Disembarking at the Malaysian island's small airport, there were no air-conditioned walkways to molly coddle you to customs. Instead, you get to do your best movie star impression, striding down the landing steps, sunglasses fixed in place as you take in the cloud-catching mountains in the distance.
If you think Malaysia begins and ends with the bright lights of Kuala Lumpur, Langkawi is the perfect corrective: an archipelago of some 99 islands, with an extra five making an appearance during low tide, perched off the north-western coast of Malaysia.
With a pore-cleansing, sultry climate, the high humidity means the pace of life is several notches below that of KL and so, even with tourism as its main industry, Langkawi retains the atmosphere of a sleepy backwater.
The presence of tracts of virgin rainforest add to this impression, as it means that the hotels and compounds that are spotted around the main island's coast are secluded.
Because of the humid weather, hotels on Langkawi tend to be designed around marvellous pavilions, that allow the sea breeze to blow through, while the rooms are cool and enclosed, with fans to ensure a decent night's sleep.
Staying at the Andaman Hotel, we woke to the sound of cicadas impersonating chainsaws – something to do with the construction of the hotel competing with the male cicadas' call to attract females – and a veritable cacophony of wildlife sat next to our balconies.
Langkawi's food leans more heavily on the country's Indian influences than its Chinese connections.
We ate one of our most memorable meals at The Lighthouse – our second Casablanca moment. Sitting under palm trees, the sun disappearing beneath the horizon and with the smell of incense mingling with the food while the Andaman Sea lapped quietly in the distance, dinner was a magical experience as we worked our way through the dishes specially selected for us by the chef.
But there is more to Langkawi than the sumptuous food and the idyllic setting; travel into the heart of the island and you will find a bounty of natural beauty begging to be investigated.
The mangrove swamps are criss-crossed by a series of canals, perfect for a boat trip. Strangely peaceful, our slow journey was reminiscent of Apocalypse Now – which, oddly enough, was filmed in Malaysia – complete with an eerie sense of being watched.
Every so often, our guide would cut the engine and point silently into the dense foliage that lines the canals, and after a minute of peering, suddenly we would see families of dusty leaf monkeys watching us warily; or he would point to a half-obscured tributary where a monitor lizard was swimming lazily, or take us to a lake where sea eagles wheeled above us, waiting to be fed by passing tourists.
Even in this apparently untouched paradise, we found ourselves making some of the most unlikely discoveries.
First up was the fish farm. Now, the words "fish farm" usually conjure up visions of loch-side operations owned by ageing rock stars, producing salmon on an industrial scale.
In Langkawi's fish farms, barracudas glide around, giving anyone brave enough to get close to the water a decent look at their teeth; horseshoe crabs can be found, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the sort of creatures that were kicking around when the world was young; and any number of other prehistoric-looking sea creatures can be glimpsed.
Most entertaining of all were the archer fish. Possibly the most athletic water-bound creature I've ever come across, when offered a piece a bread on the end of a finger – namely mine – they would either come charging up to the surface and squirt water at said morsel in an attempt to dislodge it, or leap out of the water, grab hold of my finger and suck the bread off. As sensations go, it's tricky to describe, but it's safe to say it was odd.
The second odd moment was a trip to the bat caves. Apart from the smell of bat droppings, and the strange squeaking noise, it was impossible to see anything. Advised to take flash photos to get a sense of what was really there, when the battery of cameras started snapping, we suddenly discovered that we were surrounded by the creatures.
The value of the swamp lies beyond its physical beauty and the nature that dwells within: its trees and root structures were pivotal in protecting Langkawi from the tsunami of 2004, while it is the breeding place of the indigenous dolphin population.
In light of its importance to nature, it was very strange to find Barn Thai, a funky, back-to-nature-themed Thai restaurant balanced on stilts right in the heart of the swamp, reachable only by boat or by raised platform.
It's not necessary to dive headlong into the steaming heart of the island to get a flavour of Langkawi. A drive around its perimeter is equally engaging. You'll pass through rubber plantations that have been cut, tapped and now appear to be bleeding stringy latex. Other stops saw us sampling the local fruit, including the amazingly citrus mangostine and the notorious durian, a lumpy bulbous thing that comes with the warning: "tastes like heaven, smells like hell". I'm not sure about the former, but the latter is absolutely true.
Elsewhere, we found ourselves in Muslim eateries, where we drank sweet local tea, flavoured with condensed milk and mixed in an impressive fashion by pouring it from one jug to another held a metre below.
While it is not precisely a shopping destination, Langkawi does enjoy tax-free status, a factor in its success as a tourist favourite as it is ideal for picking up gifts.The Langkawi Fair, a duty-free outlet, is the best place for a bit of retail therapy.
Handily, the complex is next to the cable car which goes to the top of Gunung Mat Cincang. The ride up to the peak was impressive, though a few vertigo sufferers in our party clung tightly to their seats. Once we got there, the views were stunning.
Our stay in Langkawi had been presaged by a brief sojourn to KL, a destination that is de rigueur for any visitor to Malaysia.
One of the liveliest, most exciting cities you could visit, it goes without saying that trips to the vast Petronas Towers, the market in Petaling Street and the Batu Caves, as well as the brilliant shopping arcades in the Suria KLCC mall and Low Yat Plaza, are a must.
However, the area around Petaling Street – the place to go to experience the plethora of knock-off designer goods and DVDs in the country, and where the oxymoronic cry of "genuine fakes" is each seller's guarantee of quality – is, alone, worth an afternoon's investigation. Just off to one side, unmarked and unsignposted, we found a covered food market in which the majority of the items on sale were still breathing, and where outside a cafe we tasted cendol (pronounced chen-doll), a beguiling mixture of ice, rose syrup, palm sugar, red beans, sweet corn and coconut milk and green worm-like noodles. Mixed up, the whole thing looks forbidding, and the texture odd, but once you get used to that, the taste is amazing.
Elsewhere we found a Hindu temple where a very colourful and loud wedding was taking place. We were allowed to come in and watch the nuptials, after which our guide led us to a Chinese temple around the corner. Jammed at right angles in a courtyard for feng shui reasons, which means that in official planning terms it doesn't actually exist, it was an oasis of peace in one of the most bustling parts of the city. Wreathed in incense, though it bore a close resemblance to a Buddhist temple, it differs in that it takes from the many different forms of eastern spiritualism. Thus we could have thrown special sticks as a form of divining the future or joined the others making devotions to one of the many shrines – even the women-only one – in the temple.
However, if there is one new experience I will take from KL, it's my visit to the painfully fashionable Skybar at the Traders Hotel.
Perched on top of the building, it boasts two show-stopping features: a full-sized swimming pool, and a panoramic view of the Petronas Towers. Sitting up above the bustling city on our last night, the roof open to the night skies and a large sakitini in my hand – it's the same as a Martini, but with saki – gazing out at KL's shimmering skyline, I couldn't help but feel that there were few better ways to roll the closing credits.
Factfile: Malaysia
HOW TO GET THERE• Malaysia Airlines flies directly to Kuala Lumpur from London Heathrow from £603 return (
www.malaysiaairlines.com). Connecting flights with BA, from Edinburgh to Heathrow, £175 return (
www.ba.com).
Where to stay • Double rooms at the Hotel Equatorial, Jalan Sultan Ismail, Golden Triangle, Kuala Lumpur, start from £89. (00 65 603 2161 7777,
www.equatorial.com/kul).
• Double rooms at Traders Hotel, Wilayah Persekutuan, Kuala Lumpur start from £73 a night. (00 65 603 2332 9888,
www.shangri-la.com-/en/property/kualalumpur/traders).
• Double rooms at The Andaman, Jalan Teluk Datai, start from £161 a night (00 65 604 959 1088,
www.theandaman.com).
and there's more• Scotsman Reader Holidays offer trips to Sheraton Langkawi Beach Resort from £1,255pp, flying from Glasgow with Emirates. Call Oceanic Travel (0131-538 2438).
The full article contains 1692 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
