SE Asian Adventures Part Deux: Episode 7- Langkawi Island
Langkawi Island
I sat next to three Malay boys on the freezing cold, three hour ferry ride from Penang to Langkawi. The boat was bigger and while it was swaying, it wasn't as death defying as the ride to Nusa Lembongan from Bali. I smiled at the Dutch girl across the aisle from me a few times and then she disappeared upstairs somewhere. I took her seat when one of the boys went to the bathroom and they promptly spread out and slept on each other making my return to my original seat preposterous. The girl returned and I smiled again and acknowledged that I stole her seat. When we docked we agreed to share a cab to the beach.
We were hustled away from the cab counter by an Indian man with a van who already had two British travelers with him we agreed to go along. We later found out he overcharged us. He also drove like a mad man, gave us each maps of the island, and snorkeling brochures with his number scrawled on the back. Before he would take us to the guesthouse where I was meeting up with a Kiwi guy I met in Singapore, he made us check out his friend's room. "Very clean, very cheap" he told us as we peered into a room with one double bed. "You, you, 35, 35" he said gesturing to us one by one. I tried to tell him that we had only just met and we're really just sharing a ride and that I was meeting my friend someplace else.
The Dutch girl and I ended up booking a room together after all with a private bath and two twin beds in a little bungalow. The common area was filled with cats that the staff fed with a mixture of meat and rice and who liked to lounge on our porch or on the reception counter. We found the Kiwi guy and went to dinner at a little place with a long menu. I had Thai noodles and some unpronounceable vegetable that tasted like stewed lettuce in butter sauce.
We wandered to the beach and ordered cocktails and shisha from a tiki bar blasting dance music and flashing lights. The staff poured fuel on the sand and surrounded each table with a ring of fire. Fire dancers threw bows and spun chains ablaze. The ocean gently roared slow and steady. It was quintessential beach island night.
The next day the Dutch girl, the Kiwi and I rented two motorbikes and drove around the island. We were stopped at a police checkpoint and made to show our licenses. The Dutch girl didn't bring hers and had to get on my bike while the Kiwi took hers. When we were out of sight they switched back and no other law enforcement bothered us. It was strange but could have been much worse. We refueled at a petrol station where I paid 5 ringet to have a Malay man fill the tank and then headed to the steepest cable car in the world with a 42° incline to the top of a mountain lookout. Langkawi means eagle and we saw a pair soaring over the jungle below.
The next stop on our motor bike adventure was a much-hyped black sand beach where legend has it there was a war between the merpeople and the land people because a mermaid princess fell in love with a man and wanted to leave the ocean. The land people were outnumbered so they lit a huge fire on the beach to trick the merpeople into thinking that they had thousands of men carrying torches and eventually won the battle and the beach has been black ever since. The beach as narrow and only streaked with black sand and didn't seem like a good place for a swim so we continued on.
We then rode to a long, white sand beach and ate fish and chips in a beach side restaurant and had a swim. The ocean was dotted with smaller islands and Malaysian navy vessels. One end of the beach was private and guarded by a man in a little hut who waved us back to the public side when we got too close. We spited him by swimming into private waters but he just watched us until we left.
We rode up to a beautiful waterfall and made it half way to the top of the tallest mountain look out when the sun set and we decided to turn back. A lone cloud hovered black against the pink sky in this distance. We stopped to watch the far away thunderstorm and the lightening emanating from the cloud before riding home.
Legends run wild on Langkawi. The largest small island off shore has a warm freshwater lake said to be inhabited by a giant crocodile, the child of a princess who was put to death for adultery. She claims that she swam in the lake, drank the water and immaculately became with child. Women visit the lake to pray and swim if they are unable to conceive.
Langkawi means eagle island and there are no shortage of gold and white sea eagles flying in pairs or in groups. In one cove several dozen circled the air and took turns diving for fish. The monkeys are less keen on the natural bounty the island has to offer and more interested in stealing human snacks. While island hopping we spent time swimming at the far end of a beach full of sunbathers and snorkelers. It also happened to be the end of the beach where the long tailed thieves conceived their plans. While we swam, two furry scouts opened up my bag and the Dutch girl's bag and stole chips and biscuits. We shouted, ran toward them as quickly as the thigh high water would allow but the little buggers escaped with the goodies. My opinion of monkeys as the cute fuzzy human-esque anomalies is slowly being replaced with a new view: that they are sneaky, annoying, tricky little things.
I sat next to three Malay boys on the freezing cold, three hour ferry ride from Penang to Langkawi. The boat was bigger and while it was swaying, it wasn't as death defying as the ride to Nusa Lembongan from Bali. I smiled at the Dutch girl across the aisle from me a few times and then she disappeared upstairs somewhere. I took her seat when one of the boys went to the bathroom and they promptly spread out and slept on each other making my return to my original seat preposterous. The girl returned and I smiled again and acknowledged that I stole her seat. When we docked we agreed to share a cab to the beach.
We were hustled away from the cab counter by an Indian man with a van who already had two British travelers with him we agreed to go along. We later found out he overcharged us. He also drove like a mad man, gave us each maps of the island, and snorkeling brochures with his number scrawled on the back. Before he would take us to the guesthouse where I was meeting up with a Kiwi guy I met in Singapore, he made us check out his friend's room. "Very clean, very cheap" he told us as we peered into a room with one double bed. "You, you, 35, 35" he said gesturing to us one by one. I tried to tell him that we had only just met and we're really just sharing a ride and that I was meeting my friend someplace else.
The Dutch girl and I ended up booking a room together after all with a private bath and two twin beds in a little bungalow. The common area was filled with cats that the staff fed with a mixture of meat and rice and who liked to lounge on our porch or on the reception counter. We found the Kiwi guy and went to dinner at a little place with a long menu. I had Thai noodles and some unpronounceable vegetable that tasted like stewed lettuce in butter sauce.
We wandered to the beach and ordered cocktails and shisha from a tiki bar blasting dance music and flashing lights. The staff poured fuel on the sand and surrounded each table with a ring of fire. Fire dancers threw bows and spun chains ablaze. The ocean gently roared slow and steady. It was quintessential beach island night.
The next day the Dutch girl, the Kiwi and I rented two motorbikes and drove around the island. We were stopped at a police checkpoint and made to show our licenses. The Dutch girl didn't bring hers and had to get on my bike while the Kiwi took hers. When we were out of sight they switched back and no other law enforcement bothered us. It was strange but could have been much worse. We refueled at a petrol station where I paid 5 ringet to have a Malay man fill the tank and then headed to the steepest cable car in the world with a 42° incline to the top of a mountain lookout. Langkawi means eagle and we saw a pair soaring over the jungle below.
The next stop on our motor bike adventure was a much-hyped black sand beach where legend has it there was a war between the merpeople and the land people because a mermaid princess fell in love with a man and wanted to leave the ocean. The land people were outnumbered so they lit a huge fire on the beach to trick the merpeople into thinking that they had thousands of men carrying torches and eventually won the battle and the beach has been black ever since. The beach as narrow and only streaked with black sand and didn't seem like a good place for a swim so we continued on.
We then rode to a long, white sand beach and ate fish and chips in a beach side restaurant and had a swim. The ocean was dotted with smaller islands and Malaysian navy vessels. One end of the beach was private and guarded by a man in a little hut who waved us back to the public side when we got too close. We spited him by swimming into private waters but he just watched us until we left.
We rode up to a beautiful waterfall and made it half way to the top of the tallest mountain look out when the sun set and we decided to turn back. A lone cloud hovered black against the pink sky in this distance. We stopped to watch the far away thunderstorm and the lightening emanating from the cloud before riding home.
Legends run wild on Langkawi. The largest small island off shore has a warm freshwater lake said to be inhabited by a giant crocodile, the child of a princess who was put to death for adultery. She claims that she swam in the lake, drank the water and immaculately became with child. Women visit the lake to pray and swim if they are unable to conceive.
Langkawi means eagle island and there are no shortage of gold and white sea eagles flying in pairs or in groups. In one cove several dozen circled the air and took turns diving for fish. The monkeys are less keen on the natural bounty the island has to offer and more interested in stealing human snacks. While island hopping we spent time swimming at the far end of a beach full of sunbathers and snorkelers. It also happened to be the end of the beach where the long tailed thieves conceived their plans. While we swam, two furry scouts opened up my bag and the Dutch girl's bag and stole chips and biscuits. We shouted, ran toward them as quickly as the thigh high water would allow but the little buggers escaped with the goodies. My opinion of monkeys as the cute fuzzy human-esque anomalies is slowly being replaced with a new view: that they are sneaky, annoying, tricky little things.