We were up reasonably early to travel to the opposite side of the island to the Kimli Karst Geopark. Here we went on a guided kayak tour of the mangrove forests and karstic (geology-speak for limestone) rock outcrops, caves and water ways. The vista at this end of the island is spectacular.
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| Kimli Karst Geopark |
First stop was the bat cave, home to hundreds of small nocturnal creatures, and also to some naughty macaque monkeys. The bats here are quite a small species, unlike the Filipino kind our guide told us about, whose body is the size of a small child and which has a 6-foot wingspan. Despite this frightening appearance it feeds only on fruit. The tiny bats here leave their cave to eat insects and can eat around a thousand mosquitoes per hour. For this reason bats, like geckos, are our friends.
There are various varieties of mangroves in the Geopark, which have all evolved to take advantage of the intertidal area, in which their roots are partially submerged for some of the time.
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| Mangrove roots |
Mangroves trees grow especially slowly and, although slender, much of the forest is around 100 years old. The trees take in the saline water and secrete the salt through their leaves. Owing to the salt content, mangrove wood is particularly hard, does not rot and is resistant to termites, and so has historically been harvested for construction. As with the bats, there are no conservation laws on Langkawi, so operators can offer jet-ski tours through the forest, which is potentially damaging and hugely disruptive to the flora and fauna.
After the cave, we boarded our kayak. Having navigated our way unaided for nearly 7km in a kayak off Ko Lanta, we were confident of our ability to manage a trip of half the distance with a guide. However, if last time was a test of our strength and endurance on the open sea, today was an exercise in precision and coordination.
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| Negotiating the mangroves |
In a two-person kayak, the need to coordinate paddle strokes was imperative, unlike the roomier three-person version in which we were initiated. Similarly, the route along natural, but narrow, corridors through the mangroves required slow and precise oar work so as not to get tangled in the exposed roots. Some of the group clattered paddles and spun in circles. One couple veered straight under a catamaran - fortunately moored at this point.
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| Birdwatching |
Our guide was a true nature aficionado and an expert guide. We observed eagles and brahminy kites in their natural environment, soaring high above the trees before swooping to catch fish. Other unscrupulous operators arrived in boats, revving their engines, which in a cycle of reinforcement worthy of Pavlov himself, indicates to the birds that feeding time has arrived. Unfortunately, the boatmen don't tend to dispense fish, preferring chicken skin, which does not sink so quickly, but which is evidently not the bird's natural diet and makes them lazy hunters, dependent on handouts. Thankfully the birds on this occasion had wised up to the ruse and were diligently ignoring the sound of churning water.
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| Defiant eagle |
Having navigated our way successfully through the tight bends of the tree roots now hidden by the advancing tide, we were rewarded with lunch at the Hole in the Wall floating restaurant.
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| The Hole in the Wall (not that one) |
Sadly, unlike its namesake in Portsmouth or York, HITW Langkawi does not supply good beers. In fact, it is run by strict Muslims who, despite cashing in on the tourist coin, stick to their principles of not selling alcohol. However, they do a mean (spicy) tom yum soup and some tasty nasi goreng (fried rice).
The restaurant doubles as a fish farm, which I was concerned about. Some of the fish, especially the groupers, are destined for the table, but many are kept simply as though in a zoo. Fishermen bring them where they would otherwise take them to the market.
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| Trevally |
I don't understand why they aren't released back into the wild, but it was interesting to see some marine life with which I was not familiar. If I encountered trevally in the waters, I would have thought them to be baby sharks, and the horseshoe crab could have been invented by H R Giger.
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| Horseshoe crab |
Back home, K had enthusiastically offered to cook for our host to repay yesterday's lunch. She chose a Malaysian-inspired recipe and, in so doing, proved that she is braver than I in subjecting her cooking to expert criticism.
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| Brinjal sambal |
The brinjal sambal was made with round purple aubergines the size of a clementine, sliced and fried until soft, then tossed with a sambal of pounded garlic, shallots and dried red chillies. This was spooned over rich rice (nasi lemak) cooked with coconut milk and flavoured with ginger and lemongrass straight from the garden. The purple spinach we picked up on Sunday's night market was put to good use in a flavoursome soup. It all passed the judge's taste test and seconds were had.
The night was yet young, so our host took us for cocktails at Ruang Bar in Cenang. The set-up was simple, a bar constructed of bare wood at the front of a mini-mart, but it was popular and the drinks well mixed.
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