It’s approaching 6 p.m. at the Datai on Langkawi island, the tropical sun is still warm but no longer burny, and through my binoculars from my poolside lounger I’m watching the hornbills swooping down from the tall tree opposite and the sunbirds delving their long curved beaks in to some sort of exotic, colourful flora. By my side is a barely read copy of a classic work of literature and a half-drunk cocktail. I’m not sure that life gets much better than this.
And that’s perhaps the main problem with staying in arguably Malaysia’s loveliest hotel. It’s so perfect – the service, the outrageously exclusive rainforest location next to Langkawi’s best beach, the villas on stilts with their colonial-style hardwood interiors, the Malaysian, Indian and Thai cuisine, the monkeys and orchids and stingless bees – you’re in danger of overdosing on schadenfreude: just think of all those billions of poor sods who aren’t here, experiencing what you are experiencing now!
In my youthful backpacking days I would have been affronted by the very notion of it. How dare the Malaysian government commandeer the best part of the island – acres and acres of pristine rainforest – and reserve it for spoilt, rich tourists! Now that I’m older, though, I think it’s just the ticket. When I saw one of the hotel staff politely but firmly pointing out to an indignant mother that this adults-only quiet pool was not for the use of her splashing brats, my heart sang. As for the moment when I sauntered over to some Generation Z techno kid and asked him not to conduct his Zoom chat so audibly on his laptop – and he meekly complied – it felt like I had finally earned my spurs as a grumpy old fart.
Of the various South-East Asia destinations, Malaysia is probably less fashionable at the moment than Thailand or Vietnam. But I like the fact that it’s so low-key
I’m trying to think of the downsides. Well, it’s not cheap, obviously. And being in the tropics, it can be either very hot and humid, or very wet if you pick the wrong season. But personally, I find the climate congenial. It forces you to rise early (for a swim off that crescent beach with its view of Thailand) and then do stuff you wouldn’t normally consider doing on a summer holiday. Cookery classes, for example.
No, don’t worry, I totally agree: the very last thing I want to do on a beach holiday is participate in organised activities. But when it’s 90 degrees outside, and air conditioned inside, suddenly it makes a lot of sense to spend a couple of hours being taught by one of the hotel’s head chefs to prepare maybe the best Indian food you’ve ever eaten. I cook a lot of curries at home, but this was next level and I picked up all sorts of useful tips, such as how when you’re deep-frying the classic street food recipe ‘Chicken 65’ you know when the meat is cooked: it’s all down to the size of the bubbles.
In fact, I loved all the activities we tried. Even – and I’m saying this through gritted teeth – the ‘sustainability tour’, which included a foray round the herb and spice garden, taking in the hollow trunk hive where the stingless bees live. They store their honey in egg-shaped beeswax pots, which reminded me of a sci-fi horror scene like something out of Battlestar Galactica. (It’s very expensive – about £10 for a tiny pot – but with an oddly piquant yoghurty taste.) When you inspect their lair a hapless volunteer – the gardener – gets chosen to lift the lid, at which point one bee sprays him with attack-signal juice and all the others pile in to bite him. While they are thus distracted you can inspect the hive unharmed.
Because you’re in a corner of a vast, pristine rainforest reserve, there are lots of nature safaris by day and night, on foot and by kayak, to seek out pythons, dusky langurs, monitor lizards, colugos (flying lemurs) and – this really freaked me out – the scorpions which lurk in the cracks in the walls, visible in their hundreds by night when you shine ultraviolet light on them. I have this OCD thing I do where I brush my hand across walls: I cannot recommend better aversion therapy than the night-tour to see those scorpions.
Oh, and we got to be eaten by leeches too. Apparently this happens very rarely, only after there has been heavy rain. It occurred on an otherwise relaxing and beautiful early morning stroll to a forest bathing pool where we were shown how to do various traditional stretching exercises before immersing ourselves in the cool and supposedly therapeutic water. Anyway, hours later, after we’d had breakfast and our cookery class, the Fawn and I repaired to our hut for a change of clothing. Her socks were soaked with congealed blood. I laughed till I saw that mine were too. Some of the leeches had been squashed, but we did see at least one of the wriggling survivors, writhing and bloated on the shower floor. The good news is that the bites don’t hurt, though they do bleed for ages because of the anticoagulant the leeches inject in you. You shouldn’t pull them off or burn them with cigarettes: insect repellent does the job just fine.
Of the various South-East Asia destinations, Malaysia is probably less fashionable at the moment than Thailand or Vietnam. But I like the fact that it’s so low-key. The people – in my experience anyway – have a sweetness and modesty about them. It genuinely feels as if they want, more than anything, for you to have the best possible stay in their country, and they’re not out to rip you off. We felt this not just at the Datai, but in the three days we spent in the south of the island at another charming resort called Ambong Pool Villas, where every villa has a private pool garden including a stuffed toy tiger in a vain attempt to scare off the marauding gangs of macaques.
I’d go back to Malaysia like a shot. Indeed I’d even be tempted to live there – though perhaps somewhere a bit pacier, like Kuala Lumpur (I can highly recommend the RuMa, which looks out directly on to those weird Petronas Twin Towers), or somewhere cooler, like the tea growing area in the Cameron Highlands, or the places with the best wildlife, Sarawak and Borneo. The country ticks all the boxes – safe, good infrastructure, all the trappings of modern civilisation (including way better medical care than we get back home), yet still exotic enough for you to be able to pretend you’re a character from a Somerset Maugham novel.
Stay seven nights in a Canopy Garden room at Datai Langkawi on a bed and breakfast basis from £2,210 per person with Elegant Resorts, including economy flights from London Heathrow with Malaysia Airlines, private transfers to the resort and UK airport lounge passes. Includes two complimentary nights and a 10 per cent discount, saving up to £1,430 per couple. Must be booked at least 30 days in advance and the price is valid until 31 March 2024 (blackout dates apply).
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