Malaysia’s topography is as diverse as the cultures it inhabits.She’s the Grandmother of the family — the one who’s seen it all, feeds everyone with recipes passed down through generations, and insists everyone gets along… or else. Big Mama may be old, but she still has some pep in her step.
Langkawi Travel Story — Living Like I’m Dying by Lary Kennedy
Next stop: Langkawi, Malaysia — where Granny kicks off her sandals, shakes the hair out of her bun, and sips Pink Ladies seaside. A Grab, ferry, bus, and another Grab ride later — twelve hours total transit time — down an extremely bumpy one-way trail, my luggage and I roll into The Coconut Langkawi, my next home away from home.
Hmm. Quaint exterior followed by quainter interior. It’s been a long day. It’s dark. In the light of day, all will look different… right?
Pretty basic digs. The extortionists took a chunk out of my housing allowance, leaving me slim pickings for accommodations. But hey — I’ve got a bed, Wi-Fi, and a nice hot shower.Wait a minute… where’s the shower? OMG. It’s a water hose with an exterior heating device bolted to the wall. Sweet. I can sit on my toilet and take a shower. Now how many people can say that?
The intimidation factor of my bathroom facility overrides my usual daily routine of showering, leaving me to explore my new surroundings with dirty skin. Langkawi captures the essence of a hippie beach town — surf, sun, super chill. Organically attractive. Not exactly what I’d call a resort environment, but it has a rustic charm… if you like that sort of thing. It was barely ten days ago I’d been in Sanur. If Sanur is a Dillard’s, then Langkawi is the Dollar Tree.
“ChatGPT, why am I staying two weeks here again?” I ask my dear friend. Radio silence.
Alrighty then. What am I going to do here for two weeks? With no Beach Blanket Bingo excursions listed on TripAdvisor, I opt for extreme kayaking. This is more my speed.
Our group gathers at the meeting spot while the owner, Farley, gives us the rundown of the day’s events.There are three girls from Finland, a girl from Langkawi with her boyfriend from Iraq, and me — Miss USA. It’s becoming noticeable, the further into Malaysia I wander, how few Americans the Malay encounter. With no one to dispute my true identity, I run with it.
While Farley and his guide prep our vessels, I size up my fellow mates.I signed up for extreme kayaking, and I want my money’s worth. No wimping out. I puff out my chest and lower myself into my craft, grateful for the bath-water temperature of the Andaman Sea as we head toward the mangroves in the Kilim Geoforest Park.
My worries about my group lagging behind have turned into worries they’ll leave me behind. Wow — these waters are choppy. It doesn’t help that numerous boats pass by, creating never-ending waves. Finally, we make it into the mangroves. The waters are calm, but maneuvering through these dense trees without hitting one — or a branch decapitating me — is just as challenging.
Man, I hate to look like a wimp. Luckily, Farley stops, and I gulp some water.
“How big do you think this mangrove is?” he asks us.
I shout out, “Ten miles!” The others speak in kilometers.
He says it’s a hundred kilometers.
Okay… so what, like seven miles? I was close.
He explains that these are salt waters we’re floating in, making mosquito repellent unnecessary. OK — I was this old when I found that out. I had no clue. He goes on to tell us we may come across monitor lizards, baby monkeys, and poisonous snakes. But not to worry — the mangrove serpents sleep during the day. Kewl. But on the off chance we happen to catch one awake who then bites, we have eight hours to find anti-venom.
As luck would have it, not only did we come upon a baby monkey and a baby monitor lizard, but a poisonous snake — asleep, albeit, but within striking distance all the same.
We make our way out of the cluster of mangroves into a cove surrounded by massive tree-lined cliffs.
“Welcome to Eagle Feeding Point. The boat approaching is a feed boat,” Farley tells us as fish cascade out of a bucket from the circling boat. Thirty or so eagles swoop from the treetops above to scoop up the fish.
“These brown and white ones you see are Brahminy Kite Eagles, and the other is the White-bellied Sea Eagle. The white-bellied one is larger, far more impressive, and rather aloof.”
Having gotten turned opposite of all the action, unable to maneuver my damn kayak, I’m straining my neck to get a good photo of the white-bellied one. Once I realign myself, they all fly the other way. I did manage to capture one perched up high after the feeding frenzy subsided.
“Langkawi,” Farley says, “for those of you who don’t know, is believed to be derived from the Malay word helang, meaning eagle, and kawi, meaning reddish-brown.”
My favorite fun fact of the day.
“Two hours left — would you like to go across more sea or more mangroves?” he asks the group.
WTF. Two more hours?
My left shoulder is separating from its socket — I can feel it. Two more hours. I can’t do this.
“You can do it…” comes a voice out of nowhere.
Where is that voice coming from? I look around.
Let the Force be with you.
Yoda, is that you? How does Yoda even know who I am? He could live here. This sure looks like his house.
“Mangroves it is,” Farley’s voice snaps me back into action, and away we go.
The next two hours fly by. We arrive back at the dock. Farley reaches out to assist me out of my kayak; I situate my arm to push myself up, and my arm collapses, unable to hold me. OMG — am I going to be sore tomorrow..
“Take a hot shower and get yourself a nice massage before you go to bed,” Farley suggests.
“Will do, boss,” I say, giving no indication of my sketchy shower situation.
Having taken a bath, I decide to forgo the massage till morning in fear of further shoulder damage.
Langkawi is known for more than Eagles – Duty Free booze baby. What the hell. I’ll meet up with Granny seaside and see what those Pink Ladies are all about.
