The Adventures of Bruce and Ian

Langkawi’s many islands are ringed with countless stretches of beach. Some have white sand, some have golden. Some are hotspots for watersports, some are secluded getaways. Some are located along the most luxurious resorts imaginable, others appeal to backpackers on a budget. We couldn’t hope to experience anything resembling a representative sample of the full scope of Langkawi’s beach life in a single afternoon, so we made the decision to check out two very different beaches: the popular Pantai Cenang strip, and the serene Pantai Kok.

Pantai Cenang is lined with dozens of restaurants, with most offering seafood freshly caught from Langkawi’s waters. Shops offer everything from trinkets and souvenirs, to sandals and swimsuits (for those who forgot their own at home). Most of the resorts sit right on the shore, allowing vacationers to walk straight from their rooms right onto the white sand. We noticed plenty of families at Pantai Cenang, with children splashing in the blue waters while parents relaxed under palm trees. Stalls sold drinks and rented out equipment for the more adventurous – we saw plenty of people jet skiing and a few trying their hands at parasailing – with mixed results.

The sun was starting to go down and so we headed for Pantai Kok on the northwest coast of Langkawi. There was barely anyone about, just a few couples slowly walking along the sand as the water gently lapped against it. We’d planned on eating the market food back at the resort, but the scene at Pantai Kok, with its calm waters and wide open sky, was too tranquil and relaxing to pass up. We decided to have a picnic on the beach and watch the sun set.

We had a feast of bihun (fried noodles with veggies), char kway teow (noodles, chili puti and bean sprouts), nasi kandar (curried chicken on rice), murtabak (meat, curry and cabbage rolled in a light pastry) and putu mayang (rice flour pressed into fine threads and eaten with shredded coconut and brown sugar) and soft tofu with gula mulaka (the palm sugar syrup we’d slowly been growing accustomed to) for dessert. Ian liked the savory flavour of the murtabak the best, while I, being a sucker for anything with coconut, was particularly taken with the puta mayang.

Watching the sky turn a magnificent shade of pink as the sun fell beneath the waters at our feet was breathtaking: we’d arrived at the beach just in time to be treated to a magnificent display of Malaysia’s natural beauty, prompting us to wax rhapsodical about our trip thus far:

…Uh, which way is the beach? Considering the relatively small size of Lankawi, you wouldn’t think that getting lost on the way to something as big as the beach was possible. But for the heroes of the Malaysia.com team, nothing is impossible. After a few wrong turns, we were well off the beaten path and found ourselves cruising through a tiny village. When we pulled over to get our bearings, we found ourselves at the edge of an enticing looking neighbourhood market that was just getting underway.

Dozens of stalls were set up offering all manner of food, and locals were busy picking out their favourite dishes. Ian caught the aroma of some satay sticks cooking nearby, and was out of the car and heading towards them before anyone could stop him. We decided to make the most of our unintentional detour and grab some grub.

Here’s a neat way of preparing kueh, a simple flour cake:

We chowed down on a bunch of mid-day snacks: Ian got his daily quotient of satay and I had a cooling drink of limeade to fight off the tropical heat. We also grabbed loads of food to eat for dinner back at the resort. All told, a meal and a half for three people totaled out to about 14rm – under $5 Canadian. Not too shabby.

At the edge of the market I noticed one of the many t-shirt stalls I’d seen at markets during our trip. A couple of the designs caught my eye, so I began browsing through the racks. Suddenly, one of the shirts practically leaped into my arms. Could my eyes be deceiving me? No, it was indeed a shirt proudly displaying the logo of Venom, one of the most foundational and influential extreme metal bands ever (not everyone’s cup of tea, I realise). Finding such an odd bit of pop culture ephemera in the midst of a rural market in the middle of South East Asia was downright surreal. I paid 10rm for the shirt, not even bothering to haggle. Seriously, folks, you can’t put a price this sort of thing.

We didn’t catch any glimpses of the native eagles for which Langkawi is named during our time on the island, but we did see plenty of roosters and chickens milling about at the market, including one Ian excitedly claimed was missing its head (turns out it was just ducking down).

After some quick reorientation with the map, we figured out which wrong turns had led us to satay, limeade, headless chickens and metal shirts, retraced our path, and headed for Langkawi’s sunny beaches.

We caught a quick morning flight from KL to Langkawi, an archipelago of sandy tropical islands off the north-west coast of the Malaysian peninsula. We were instantly greeted with a blast of gorgeous sunshine as soon as we disembarked the plane. We’d made do without sunscreen thus far, but we were definitely going to need it today.

We decided to rent a car to make the most of our limited time on the island, but hit a snag when this happened:

One replacement key later, we were set to check into our beach-side resort, then head out to explore.

We wanted to visit the giant eagle statue built in honour of the region’s namesake – lang being the Malay word for eagle. Navigating the modern city of KL had been fun, but driving along the picturesque beaches and through the rolling hills of Langkawi made for a pleasant and relaxing change of gears. Additionally, for whatever it’s worth, the pop music snob in me enjoyed the tunes on Langkawi FM (104.8 on your FM dial) more than anywhere else in Malaysia.

It took us some time to get to Eagle Square due to construction related detours (while the pace of life is slower in Langkawi, it’s still eagerly developing a hospitality industry to showcase itself), but we got a great view of Langkawi’s waters and hillside at the foot of the giant eagle. After enjoying the brisk sea breeze rolling onto the pier and taking the requisite goofy photos of us aping the eagle’s wingspan, we had to journey onward to check out Langkawi’s big draw: its beaches.

Next, we visited Kuala Lumpur’s two most famous architectural landmarks: the spire of the KL Tower and the sparkling Twin Petronas Towers. We’d heard that the view of the city from the KL Tower was unparalleled, and decided to ride up to the top to get a bird’s-eye view of the city we’d been roaming around.

We were hustled into an elevator, which began to shoot skyward and whose LCD didn’t give us our height in floors, but in 50 meter increments which whizzed past at an alarming rate.

Getting off at the observation deck, we were afforded a fantastic panoramic view of KL city from 276 meters up. We spotted plenty of buildings we’d driven and walked past, but whose impressive design we could now see much more clearly.

Throughout the KL Tower I kept noticing posters for a race or marathon of some sort which was named after the tower. Initially I assumed it was just a course through the city that started or ended at the tower, but then I realised the race wasn’t to the tower, but up it. Craziness. I suggested to Ian that he register for the next race up all 335 meters of stairs given his masterful summit of the Batu Caves steps. He did not take kindly to said idea.

Back on terra firma, we walked to the Petronas Twin Towers, which held the record for tallest buildings in the world between 1998 and 2004. The steel and glass of the towers’ facade seemed to pulse with energy and activity, and made for a powerful contrast with the Batu Caves which we’d just visited: the latter a symbol of the ancient religious traditions still maintained in the country, the former the face of Malaysia’s recent ascendancy in the global business world. Unfortunately public access to the Petronas Towers themselves was very exclusive – you had to line up as early as 6:30am to acquire tickets to the Skybridge – which were still limited to only 30 tickets a day! Fair warning if you’re planning on hitting up the Petronas Towers on your own trip to Malaysia.

We didn’t let that keep us from exploring urban KL, and instead we made do with wandering through Suria KLCC, the massive, six-storey shopping mall housed in the base of the towers. We checked out camera gear and passed by KLCC’s Louis Vuitton outlet…where we noticed a significant markup in price from the fabulous deals on the same LV merchandise we saw at Jalan Petaling. Go figure.

We had an early flight to catch the next morning, so we bid adieu to KL for the time being and started preparing for our next Malaysian adventure on the sandy beaches of Langkawi.

Our next stop was the Batu Caves, a series of tunnels and chambers set into limestone cliffs just outside of Kuala Lumpur.  The caves are one of Malaysia’s most famous attractions, and are a holy site for the country’s Hindu population.  We’d seen plenty of photos of the statue of the god Murugan while preparing for our trip, but neither of us were prepared for just how massive it was in real life.  Reading about a 42 meter high gold statue is significantly different from standing in front of a 42 meter high gold statue.  We were in awe.

We started the climb up the 272 steps to the entrance of the caves themselves, passing reliefs of scenes from Hindu mythology.  I don’t think I’m bragging when I say that I managed the climb better than Ian, who was out of breath and more than slightly sweaty by the end.  Halfway up, the stairs became populated with dozens of the cynomolgus monkeys which have made their homes in the trees growing on the cliff faces.  They’re well accustomed to the hordes of tourists who visit the caves, and have no interest in posing for the camera if you’re not offering them a snack of some sort.

Once at the top of the stairs, we entered the massive and majestic Temple Cave, the natural walls of which stretch up over 100 meters.  Intricate shrines to and statues of Murugan and other Hindu gods were nestled along the walls amongst stalactites (or are stalagmites the ones which grow up from the ground?).  The air was still and calm, and the occasional waft of incense which crossed our noses added to the tranquil and reverential atmosphere.  At the back of the Temple Cave, the roof opens out to the sky, casting sunlight down on the cave’s visitors, and allowing trees to grow along the cave’s inner walls!

See more of our climb and read more about the caves here!

Getting to the caves took some sweat and effort, but the payoff of seeing such gorgeous scenery and cultural icons was well worth it. Luckily for Ian, climbing down was easier than climbing up.

After breakfast, we walked a short distance to Jalan Petaling, Kuala Lumpur’s open-air Chinatown market. Attracting a mix of locals and tourists, the market offers a full range of Chinese cuisine, handicrafts and clothing, in addition to peculiarly low-priced DVDs and designer handbags. We’d been exposed to the practice of hawking wares Malaysian-style the night before at Jalan Alor, but the vendors at Jalan Petaling were on a whole other level.

Binders of DVDs, children’s toys, shirts, jackets, sunglasses and just about everything else imaginable were waved in front of us, and calls of “Sir? Sir? Good deal! You buy!” were everywhere.

Haggling’s the name of the game at Jalan Petaling: everything’s negotiable.  If you were unimpressed with the price of an item you expressed interest in, odds are it would drop by twenty percent before you were five steps away from the stall.  I wanted to bring back one of the astonishingly cheap handbags for my girlfriend, but didn’t trust my haggling skills.

I have a tough time doing even the tamest of bargaining at low-key garage sales, and I knew I was out of my league in the lightning-fast trading and bickering that is Jalan Petaling’s lifeblood.  Thankfully, our guide Sarah had stronger nerves than I.

After I picked out a Prada bag that I thought would be well received, Sarah entered into a routine as old as commerce itself. After the “real” price of 100rm was dismissed by Sarah as “very expensive, lah” (the ubiquitous lah can best be approximated as being to Malaysia what eh is to Canada), a quick barrage of numbers, hand gestures, and exclamations of feigned outrage and disbelief began to fly back and forth between Sarah and the vendor.

In less than a minute, the price had dropped from 100rm to 30rm, approximately $10 Canadian. Who’d have thought that there was such a generous subsidy on Italian exports to Malaysia?

Not all of our ventures in Jalan Petaling were as successful. The vendor who sold us a t-shirt that had caught my eye was made out of stronger stuff, and would only go from 40rm to 25rm despite Sarah’s best efforts.

We rounded off our morning at the market with a refreshing drink made from longan (a lychee-like fruit) and gulan melaka (palm sugar), and hailed a cab to take us to the historic Batu Caves.

You’d be suprised that even after a night of feasting, we still woke up rarin’ to have a go at some good ol’ Malaysian breakfast foods.

Sarah picked us up at our hotel and we soon found ourselves walking on a busy street near Jalan Petaling.  We were so close to the actual road with cars zipping by I thought I’d be clipped by one and dragged to my doom.

The place that Sarah told us we’d be going to was called a Kopi Tiam.  The translation literally is “Coffee Shop,” but it was so much more.

I probably sound like a dumb tourist for being so enamored with what was basically a glorified food court, but hot danggit it was neat.
Basically, vendors rent out stalls in an open space (which is akin to a hotel lobby) and sell their specialized dishes.  No two vendors sell the same thing, and so when one visits a Kopi Tiam, they have a veritable smorgasbord of choices.

Now the difference between this and the food courts I’m accustomed to is that these stalls aren’t just franchaises or soulless extensions of a bigger company.  They’re run by the very people who make the food, who are passionate about their dishes and the keepers of a secret family recipe. No angsty teenagers out to make a quick buck here; only real, dedicated entrepreneurs who cook delicious foods for passers by.

We sat down and were greeted by a nice lady who took drink orders.  According to Sarah, this is the “landlord” or the owner of the Kopi Tiam.  Sarah then ordered two great examples of breakfast foods in Malaysia:

Nasi goreng

I love fried rice, and thought I had experienced the whole gamut of what the Asian world had to offer me with regards to this seemingly simple dish.  Yang Chow fried rice, Kim Chi fried rice, salted fish fried rice…I’ve tried them all, and they all spoke to me in their own way and charm.  Then I had Nasi Goreng (Malaysian Fried Rice).  I don’t know what it was, but this dish spoke to me in ways I could never imagine.  It was as though Jack Frost whispered sweet nothings into my ear on a hot summer day. Hands down, it was the best incarnation of my favourite dish ever.

The flavours were smoky, savoury, a little sweet…and all present in each individual kernal of rice.  I was blown away.

Mee prawn

Noodle soups aren’t really my bag. I enjoy them once in a while but I’ll never crave them. And of course, being Vietnamese, it’s a bit tough to dethrone the champion of noodle soups in my heart, Pho (Beef noodle soup!). Mee prawn was a good tasting dish, the noodles and toppings were cooked nicely, and the broth tasted decent enough…but the dish on the whole was nowhere near complex or memorable as other dishes we had in Malaysia. That being said, it was a well needed change from all the fried or baked bread based foods we’d been eating.

Needless to say, by the end of breakfast I was a very happy man (as the pictures surely indicate).

One thing I should note are the utensils. The interesting thing about them is that each dish comes with its own set of forks, spoons or chopsticks – but how do each of the vendors know which utensil is theirs?

A dab of colored paint marks the property of each vendor, so when the bussers come to take away spent dishes, they know where every fork, spoon and chopstick is supposed to go!

…HEY I thought it was interesting ok??

After roaming around the streets of Kuala Lumpur and our…unique experiences at the fish spa we decided to go for a midnight snack.  We’d eaten a huge dinner just a few hours previous, but we had a job to do, and we were willing to suffer for it…and by suffer I mean gorge ourselves on delicious food.  Pity us.

We headed to Bangsar, a suburb south-west of downtown KL, to try out mamak cuisine. Mamak is a style of cooking developed by Malaysia’s Indian Muslim population, and mamak stalls have been a fixture in Malaysian culture for years. Typcially open 24/7 and offering open-air dining areas, they’re a great place to grab a bite late at night, and make for popular hang-out spots.

We set up camp at a mamak stall (chosen at random by Sarah) and ordered half a dozen items (okay, I guess it was more of a second dinner than a midnight snack).

Maggi goreng

We got our first taste of maggi goreng, one of mamak cooking’s staple foods.  Instant noodles are boiled, then stir-fried along with veggies, tofu, meats, and spices unique to each mamak stall.

Using the humble ramen noodle as the base for a dish like this is a testament to the culinary skill you’ll find across Malaysia: I lived off ramen for years in undergrad and never dreamed that you could turn it into a meal you’d be actually proud to cook for your significant other.

Of course, I never had access to the range of spices found in Malaysia.  Lime livened up the taste of the veggies and tofu, while the curry paste that was soaked up by the noodles gave off pleasant heat in the aftertaste.

Roti Canai with Egg

We also ate a lack-lustre version ofroti canai, which featured egg mixed into the batter.  It was a bit dry for our tastes, and the scrambled egg didn’t do much for us by way of flavour.  Boo…

Roti Tisu

The highlight of our trip to Bangsar had to be roti tisu – a sweet bread that’s pounded and pulled to be wafer thin, then rolled into a cone and frosted with sugar – for a couple of reasons.  For one thing, the crispy bread seemed to melt away into buttery smoothness in our mouths.

For another, ripping apart and eating a giant sugary wizard’s cap (see below) is just too weird to not be awesome.  We dipped the roti into mild fish, chicken and lentil curries to cut the sweetness with some savory, hearty goodness, and generally made a mess.  We hadn’t intended on playing with our food on the trip, but the appearance of the roti tisu proved too tempting.

Can you blame us, though?  If you can look at this particular item of food and claim with a straight face that it doesn’t invite childish antics, I owe you a coke.

It was well past midnight by the time we’d cleaned our plates, and we were far beyond exhausted (I still hadn’t slept since leaving Vancouver). We drove back to the hotel to get some much needed sleep and rest up for another full day of exploring KL.

Now that our stomachs were full and satisfied, it was time to pamper our aching bodies. Sarah mentioned that it would be a cool idea to get massages at a spa – then she mumbled something about fish. I figured it would be a spa with aquariums…and I sure likes fishes. =)

We went up Bukit Bintang looking for a good place to get pampered. What’s funny is that every massage place or spa we encountered had its windows plastered with pictures of flowers, what looked like schematic diagrams for feet, and barebacked women face down on tables. I don’t know where spas in Malaysia get their creative for advertising from, but there must be a printer making MAD monies off printing poster boards with pictures of feet on them

Sarah found us a spa and once we walked in, we were immediately taken aback by the ambiance of the place. It looked really nice!

I also saw the tanks with fishes in them.

“Why so low to the ground? and why such small, uninteresting fish?” I thought to myself. I was expecting clownfish, lion fish and some sort of koi, instead I get these little dark-brown colored fish. I was a bit disappointed, but a good massage was about to commence, and I can’t be mad at that!

First thing on the list was to get our feet washed – felt great after walking around.

The next thing to do was to plunge our feet into the tank and let the fish eat our dead skin.

…

Wait, what?

Folks, meet Garra rufa.

These little fishes will literally bite flakes of dead skin off your feetums for sustanance. How did it go? Take a look yourself:

How did it feel? Very, VERY tickly. Not painful, but very unsettling (My exclaimations of things seeming “not right” were spot on) It also kind of felt like little jolts of electricity after a few minutes, which allowed you to relax just a bit.

Then you realize the reality that hundreds of fish are sucking off dead skin from your feet – a bit hard to relax to that thought.

They finished off with a 10 min shoulder and arm massage, performed by dudes with forearms the size of an oil barrel.

Believe it or not, this was more relaxing than the fish portion. Go figure.

After my life and death encounter with a durian, I was ready for something significantly less confrontational to eat.  Ian and Sarah agreed that a mangosteen was the way to go.  Before our trip, Ian had repeatedly told me about the awe-inspiring taste of the mangosteen: how it was unimaginably sweet without being too sugary, refreshing and palette cleansing while still being mindblowingly delicious.  Every fruit I suggested as a possible comparison was shot down as unworthy pablum in Ian’s fever-pitched endorsement of the sainted mangosteen, holiest of all fruits.

With the taste of the durian still lingering in my mouth, I began to fantasize about how the mythic mangosteen would rid me of my strife and worry and bear me away on golden waves of joy…but I also worried that Ian might’ve exaggerated…just a little bit.

Sarah bought and cracked open one of the small, vaguely pomegranate-like purple fruits.  Under a thick, fibrous rind full of staining purple juice was a tiny white bulb.  I popped one of its segments into my mouth and understood immediately why the durian and mangosteen go hand in hand.  After the pummeling I’d been given by the durian, the mangosteen’s refreshing sweetness felt like a soothing wave washing away all of the confusion.  If eating the durian had been akin to being mauled by a bear, then eating the mangosteen was an action-packed airlift out of the bear-infested jungle in a helicopter piloted by Leelee Sobieski.  But I digress.

In addition to being an ideal post-durian respite, the mangosteen was freaking delicious on its own.  It was somewhat similar to a peach in flavour, but far less tart or cloying.  I don’t think I’ve ever eaten something that tasted as instantly <i>right</i> as that first bit of mangosteen.  There were light sparks of pure sweetness popping off all throughout my mouth.  “Yes,” my tongue seemed to be saying, “this just about makes up for all of the mediocre coffee and stale tortilla chips you routinely subject me to at home.”

I quickly wolfed down the remaining segments, then bought a dozen or so more mangosteens to bring back to the hotel with me. Over the course of our whole Malaysian trip I’d often pick up a bunch of the purple fruits and happily munch my way through them. While you can find mangosteens in North America, they’re generally of significantly lower quality than those found in the fruit’s home regions (they don’t travel well, apparently), and I haven’t had the heart to try any. Some things are just worth traveling for!