Out and About - Langkawi Islands, Kedah State, Malaysia

Harmonie
Don and Anne Myers
Thu 16 Dec 2010 07:45
In the month since Bryan and Michele left us, we've kept ourselves amused by cruising around the Langkawi Islands, and making one quick trip by ferry to Penang - picking up where we left off when we rushed out of the dodgy marina with no breakwall.  The most recent two weeks have brought the Sail Malaysia Rally crowd to the Langkawi area, so the place had a bit of a homecoming feel as we met up with boaters we hadn't seen since our first Malaysian stop in early November.  Many of these folks have already moved on to Thailand or packed up and flown home for the holidays leaving their boat in Langkawi like we'll be doing in just a few days.  As a result, the homecoming atmosphere has morphed into that end-of-season mix; a sense of accomplishment, feeling melancholy, and anticipation of what comes next.  We all feel good about completing the trip from Australia to Malaysia, but a melancholy feeling creeps in because we've reached the boater's version of a fork in the road.  From Malaysia, circumnavigating boaters typically choose one of three options:  1) head to the Mediterranean via Thailand, Sri Lanka, India, the dreaded Gulf of Aden (hotbed of piracy at the moment), Red Sea and Suez Canal; or 2) cross the Indian Ocean via Thailand, Sri Lanka and various island nations (Chagos, Maritius, Reunion) to South Africa; or 3) cruise to Thailand for the high season (winter), return to customs-friendly Langkawi to store the boat and land travel to various Southeast Asia destinations - effectively putting off the big Mediterranean or South Africa routing decision for another year.  Our Season Four, like many other like-minded procrastinators, will consist of option 3, but we know plenty of brave boaters heading for the Med in January, and a few who have chosen the South Africa option.  So, the melancholy feeling comes from having to say good-by to those we've known since Darwin, Brisbane, New Zealand or elsewhere in the Pacific (however, there's always that excellent chance we'll see these people again in some fantastic place further down the circumnavigation route several years from now).  But - never fear - as we recently learned during a tour of the Blue Mansion on the very Chinese Malaysian island of Penang, life is all about balance.  Yin and yang, and all that good stuff.  So, while it may be depressing to say good-bye to boaters we might not see again for years (if ever), we still have next season to look forward to, and on top of that, Christmas at home.  Christmas at home in four feet of snow and temperatures well below our 80F comfort zone, but hey, Christmas at home - who can beat it?  (And besides, we're going to Florida to see Don's mom on January 4th, so we'll thaw out then.)   
 
At the moment, we are comfortably berthed next to an empty Storyteller (John and Sue will be returning 12/26) in Rebak Marina on tiny Rebak Island off the west coast of Langkawi Island.  The marina is part of a resort complex that caters mostly to Malaysians, but we boaters are allowed to use all the facilities, including the very lovely, cooled, pool.  Yup, in these parts, the pools have to be cooled to be refreshing.  No heating necessary.  We've been here at Rebak for two weeks.  Before that we re-visited both the fjord anchorage and Big Singa Island along with one other Langkawi area anchorage, and spent a few days in the Telaga Harbor marina on the west coast of Langkawi  Below are pictures from our travels around Langkawi waters and our ferry trip to Penang.
 
 
 
One of the lovely bays near the fjord anchorage.
 
 
Oh, now this was something.  Part of the reason we spent a few days in the Telaga Harbor marina was so we would be within walking distance of the Langkawi cable car.  It seemed like a marvelous idea to ride the cable car to the top of one of the highest mountains on Langkawi Island (2200 feet) to see the view.  Ok, it was a good idea on paper.  We didn't necessarily think about that all-important Malaysian issue - that almost-but-not-quite theme - that tendency to build grandiose buildings/marinas/waterfront condo complexes/cable cars, and then drop the ball on the maintenance.  We boarded the 6-person gondola at the foot of the mountains with two Muslim moms and their 5-year old sons.  Don was calm, I was calm, the Muslim moms were calm and the kids were excited.  We cleared the gondola base, and it wasn't until we passed under the first support pole that we saw what was ahead of us.  Ahead was one of the many limestone cliffs we've admired while motoring past the Langkawi Islands.  It's one thing to gaze up at one of the cliffs while floating past at sea level on calm water, but it's another to gaze up at one and wonder if the gondola you're riding in is going to smash straight into it or ascend vertically - yes vertically, with little or no horizontal component involved - up the cliff face to the three support poles set at an angle on the top edge of the cliff.  This was like no Colorado ski lift we had ever been on, and it was about then that visions of rusted support poles tumbling down the cliff taking all ascending gondolas with them rolled around in my head as I dug my fingernails into Don's arm and started counting under my breath in an attempt to bring some semblance of order to the situation.  Don was calm, the Muslim moms were calm - both snapping pictures here and there - the kids were excited, and I was petrified.  I lost count, but it was several minutes before we reached the leaning support poles and the safety of the mid-level gondola station where I urged Don to get off.  Which we did, and after the few minutes it took for me to gain back control of my jelly-legs, we climbed up to the viewing platform.  Unfortunately, it was a hot and hazy day, so the view wasn't perfect, but you can see the three leaning support poles of Pisa at the top of the cliff and the cables going straight down.  Yeah, we lived through that.  Malaysian maintenance and all.  A few weeks later we learned that the gondola was designed and built by an Austrian company.  It's also rumored that the Austrian company still holds the maintenance contract, but it's going to be turned over to the Malaysians soon....or it has already been turned over to the Malaysians - that piece of key information is unclear.  Clear or not, we did survive the rest of the trip up and the whole trip down, but neither one of us has voiced a burning desire to ride the cable car a second time on a clearer day. 
 
On the left side of the picture, two man-made islands that look like eyebrows lie just off the coast.  The Telaga Harbor marina, hotel and restaurant complex was finished just before the December 26, 2004 Sumatra tsunami demolished everything.  The complex was immediately rebuilt, and the two eyebrow islands added to protect the entrance to the harbor from future tsunamis (the harbor entrance is a very narrow channel in the left corner of the bay - both the harbor and its entrance are cut off in this picture).  The same thing happened to Rebak Marina, which was also immediately rebuilt.  The Langkawi area is only a few hundred miles east of the site of the earthquake that caused the tsunami.  We're hoping history won't repeat itself.
 
 
Built near the cable car at the top of the Langkawi mountains, the design of this bridge is very clever with a single tower set at an angle supporting the cables that support the uniquely curving deck.  Spanning two mountain peaks with a deep valley in between, the bridge is a thing of beauty to behold - from a distance.  Up close, the rust on the support tower is obvious, and the gaps between the loosely laid decking allow a clear view of the jungle canopy hundreds of feet below.  We walked across the bridge and back trying not to look down, and didn't linger to take pictures as most of the other tourists did.  Nope, we made a beeline in each direction - as much of a beeline as is possible on a curved bridge.  In the end, this was also added to our mental list of 'Ok to do once, but no desire to do twice' traveling in third-world country experiences.
 
 
Harmonie at anchor for the second time off the beach at Big Singa Island.
 
 
Our hotel in the city of Georgetown on Penang Island.  Recently renovated in the heart of Chinatown, this 20-room boutique hotel was excellent.  It came complete with cable TV including the BBC, CNN and HBO - the likes of which we haven't seen since we were home nearly a year ago.
 
 
The Blue Mansion, Georgetown, Penang.  One of seven or eight mansion homes built by a rags-to-riches Chinese merchant in the late 1800's.  The home is built according to Chinese tradition, including the feng shui philosophy of balancing natural energy.  Explaining the reason why you can't stand in the front door of a traditional Chinese home and look straight through to the back door, our tiny, but very energetic female Chinese tour guide said, "Good energy comes in the front door, you don't want it to go straight out the back!  Money comes in, and goes back out?  Easy come, easy go?  No, you don't want that.  Chinese house has screens and doorways that block the view from front to back, that way, good energy swirls around and stays in the house."  Made sense to us.  After living on a boat this close to nature for three and half years, we can dig the whole balance of nature and swirling good energy thing. 
 
 
Ng Mei Ling, the Tea Girl.  Based on a recommendation from another boater, we stopped in to see the Tea Girl in her family's tea shop in Georgetown's Chinatown.  We stayed for hours while Ng Mei Ling served us a sampling of the best Chinese teas, and we chatted about tea, her family's business, China, marriage, and the differences between the Penang Chinese and English schools (according to Ling, "In Chinese school, the students must do exactly what the teachers say.  In English school, the students are asked their opinions and thoughts about different subjects.").  It was exactly like a wine tasting, except that we had our host's undivided attention for as long as we wanted to stay, paid nothing, didn't get drunk, but did get a giant caffeine jolt.  It was excellent.  Amazing how different the right tea, brewed the right way tastes so, well, right.  We found ourselves describing the flavors and aromas just as you would at the finest winery.  Without attempting to sell us anything, Ling sold us a pile of stuff.  Don really wanted a traditional Chinese tea set (which, knowing Don, is kind of humorous), but I couldn't picture us holding the tiny, delicate china cups while surfing down twelve foot waves in the Indian Ocean, so we went for the more practical glass and plastic tea pot with built-in tea leaf filter instead.
 
 
The refreshingly cool Rebak resort pool.  That's a swim-up bar on the left, in case you were wondering.
 
 
It's just like the night from hell in the almost-but-not-quite dodgy marina with no breakwall never happened.  Our back bumper, repaired with the help of lots and lots of silicon and a bit of white paint.   Don the marvelous maintenance man strikes again.
 
 
Cozy and quiet Rebak Marina.  Since we'll only be gone for three weeks, we decided not to haul the boat.  Instead, Harmonie will wait for us in the water, plugged into shore power so we can put the air conditioner on dehumidify mode and hopefully come back to a cabin without gobs of mold and mildew.
 
Up next:  Season Three ends.
Anne