Online edition of India's National Newspaper
Monday, Jan 21, 2008
Google


ICICI Bank
Metro Plus Chennai
Published on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays & Saturdays

Features: Magazine | Literary Review | Life | Metro Plus | Open Page | Education Plus | Book Review | Business | SciTech | Friday Review | Cinema Plus | Young World | Property Plus | Quest | Folio |

Metro Plus    Bangalore    Chennai    Coimbatore    Delhi    Hyderabad    Kochi   

Printer Friendly Page Send this Article to a Friend

Ferry me to Langkawi

Where the lovely islanders complement the stunning landscape, writes DEEPA GANESH



LIFE BY THE SEA The jetties and the Taj resort in Rebak Island.

What would we know as the visible markers of a place that’s currently the most advertised hottest tourist location? An over-enthusiastic market and enterprising locals out to make their kill. These were my worst trepidations when I jumped on to the Langkawi bandwagon. It was anything but a mild surprise when I was shaken out of what I held was a time-tested stereotype about people and places.

Despite the breathtaking place, if I am going to remember and celebrate something from this visit, and forever, it is the people; so shy and so gentle. From the gentleman who picked me up from the airport to the person who wished me a safe journey back home as he got my luggage off the jetty, I recall every face (can’t get their names right) when I think of my trip.

Langkawi – located in the Southern Andaman sea near the border between Malaysia and Thailand — is awe-inspiringly beautiful. This main island is surrounded by 99 other islands of which only three are inhabited. My destination was Rebak, a close-by island, a 15-minute ferry ride from Port Langkasuka Jetty.

Rebak Island is a privately owned 390-acre property, which has a resort that is now run by the Taj group. This ever so beautiful island with its magnificent view of the Straits of Senari, borders the Andaman sea. The huge, sprawling property is adorned with lush rainforests, mountains, turquoise waters, white sand and crimson sunsets. It’s one thing to visit an island, but for someone who’s always lived in the city and can boast of mere “bookish” knowledge about life by the sea, it was sheer speechlessness on unpacking into a room that opened into the blue expanse.

Except for the occasional sound of a motor boat or an aircraft it was silent, cut off completely from mad civilization. You could sit on your beach chair and spend an entire day watching the sky and the sea, savouring every moment. The sun never comes this close to you in the city; of course most of the sky is occupied by a clutter of sky scrapers. From the crimson, rising sun to the flaming ball of orange of the setting sun, you can mull over every moment. It’s hard to believe that Rebak too, was ravaged by the tsunami, and even to this day, islanders who live close to the Indonesian side of the sea, speak of the tormenting tsunami residue that the sea throws up every now and then.

The entire property, done up with such a fine aesthetic sense, is lined by palm, coconut and tamarind trees. In fact, on a guided tour you even realise that there so many herbs that dot the landscape, the ones that we choose to grow in the backyard.

For some adventure

From Rebak, most tourists head off to neighbouring islands where you can indulge in water sports and sea adventure. There is kayaking, island hopping, scuba diving and snorkelling. And there is parasailing, banana boat, windsurfing and more for all those with a sturdy adventure gene in them.

Island hopping was real fun: you not only get a feel of the sea, but also get to the see splendid line up of huge mountains from up close that moderates the intensity of natural calamities. If you have a well-informed guide he’ll even tell you many stories from Malay folklore. The wind blows in your face, and the rising waves lash at you, leaving your face all salty.

The mark of a healthy society and a stable economy is its inclusiveness. The islands don’t disappoint. There is a night market every day, in different localities of the island, for those whose pockets don’t run too deep. On the Thursday that I was there, it was in Kuah, the main town located on the south-eastern tip of Pulau Langkawi. It is the take-off point to the neighbouring islands. “Kuah” is a Malay word meaning “gravy”. We sped off the 25 miles from the port to Kuah in practically 20 minutes, thanks to the huge roads in fine condition.

My cab driver, walked me up to the night market; it was one long road which had makeshift shops from one end to the other. “Go, Langkawi is a safe place,” he said reassuringly and disappeared.

From automobile spare to junk jewellery to clothes to watches to chappals to food, there was everything, and unbelievably cheap. If there is one thing that the Malays are apologetic, it’s their English. The young women (and men), who ran most shops, shied away from me when they learnt I wasn’t local. “Don’t know English, sorry,” they said in their characteristic sing-song style. At many of the shops, where they sold local snacks, they prevailed upon me not to buy, because they couldn’t tell me what it was. If you are the exploratory, brave foodie there’s plenty of non-vegetarian dishes to gorge on, but if you are a vegetarian and wary, there’s still plenty, the exotic fruits that come really cheap. Kuah is a duty free shopping town. So tuck into your bags all the chocolates and liquor you want to buy.

By the way, the lanky, soft-spoken cab driver peeked in from various corners every now and then to see if I was doing okay.

Even if you have a weak stomach and heart, brave the cable car expedition that will take you some thousand meters high, because you’ll have some local Malay looking up at the skies and saying his prayers. He’ll tell you with gestures that he’s praying for you too. You’re sure to meet some interesting local, who’s willing to fill you up on the local scene. The ride is worth it.

Your heart is full, your bags are full. You’re back at the jetty, take the last boat to Rebak. The waters are pitch dark and so is the sky, except for those gleaming stars. But your boatman can see. He knows there is a fishing net, so he takes a slight detour, not wanting to damage the net. The quiet, the stillness of the sea slowly envelopes you. Will there be a comeback?

Printer friendly page  
Send this article to Friends by E-Mail



Metro Plus    Bangalore    Chennai    Coimbatore    Delhi    Hyderabad    Kochi   

Features: Magazine | Literary Review | Life | Metro Plus | Open Page | Education Plus | Book Review | Business | SciTech | Friday Review | Cinema Plus | Young World | Property Plus | Quest | Folio |


The Hindu Group: Home | About Us | Copyright | Archives | Contacts | Subscription
Group Sites: The Hindu | Business Line | Sportstar | Frontline | Publications | eBooks | Images | Home |

Comments to : thehindu@vsnl.com   Copyright © 2008, The Hindu
Republication or redissemination of the contents of this screen are expressly prohibited without the written consent of The Hindu