Passports and Eyerolls

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Stepping off the plane in Langkawi we all took a large collective breath…and relaxed. Outside the tiny regional airport, I immediately twisted my hair into a bun to get it off my neck, while metaphorically letting it all down as well.

The boys, having watched the island approach from the airplane window, were palpably excited. Limestone mountains dotted with jungle plunged into turquoise water, even from the sky this place looked like it had been ripped straight from a travel brochure.

Beach Bums and Sunscreen

Though we were still early in the trip, I knew the boys would be ready for a break from the more intense travel schedule. Langkawi was one of our splurges. Located off the northwest coast of Malaysia, roughly 18 miles south of the Thai border, the island is part of an archipelago of 99 islands only four of which are inhabited.

The ride to the hotel took less than twenty minutes. Even on that short drive we could feel the slower pace. Bicyclists, rare in our previous stops, were everywhere. Old hippies mingled with younger backpackers at roadside markets, all of them wearing some combination of Tevas and elephant pants.

We arrived at Pelangi Beach Resort and, for the duration of our stay, transitioned out of “experience” mode and into “vacation” mode.

The resort is designed like a traditional Malay village, with rooms and suites branching out from a central lobby. The lobby itself was cool and airy, with soaring ceilings and an open verandah that led directly to the main pool and beach. We had arrived a bit early, but waiting for our room was hardly a hardship as we sipped welcome drinks and began to unwind.

After a short wait we were escorted to our rooms (yes, rooms plural). This was my splurge stay too, and having a bedroom for myself for a few days felt like a small but glorious luxury.

We were beachside, maybe thirty steps from the water. As quickly as I could shout “Sunscreen!” the boys were in their swimsuits and out the door. The afternoon passed in a pleasant blur of beach, pool, beach again, until we finally headed inside as the sun slipped below the horizon.

Rather than venturing into town that night, the kids opted to eat at the resort’s casual restaurant. We collapsed into bed early, travel weary and beach worn, skin still warm from the sun and the faint taste of salt lingering on our lips.

The next morning I woke with the sun.

Actually, that’s not entirely true.

At around 4 a.m. I was awakened by a loud, insistent cry: “KAWEEELLL! KAWEEEELLL!” In my sleepy haze I briefly thought the tween had woken up and was singing some strange internet meme. Before I yelled at him, however, I realized it was a bird.

Eventually I roused the boys, and we just managed to make it to breakfast. The rest of the day was spent doing very little, lounging between the pool and the beach with only occasional breaks to reapply sunscreen. (I have very few hard-and-fast goals for this trip, but avoiding sunburn is definitely one of them.)

Kilim Geoforest Park

By late afternoon we gathered ourselves for the one planned activity of the day: a mangrove tour at Kilim Geoforest Park.

Located on the east side of Langkawi, Kilim is part of the island’s UNESCO-recognized geopark. It’s a striking landscape, dense mangroves pressed up against dramatic karst cliffs and caves, surrounded by precariously perched limestone forests.

Mangroves are one of the most important ecosystems on earth, critical for protecting coastlines and fostering biodiversity. Ironically, the same century in which we began to recognize their importance is also the century in which we lost roughly half of them. For generations they were considered eyesores – swampy breeding grounds for disease, obstacles to fishing and shrimping industries, and often cut down for the high-quality charcoal they produce.

In case you couldn’t tell, I have a soft spot for mangroves. (Save the mangroves!) I find them eerie and beautiful, with a shadowy green light filtering through their tangled roots. Honestly, if you were ever going to encounter a tropical nymph, it would probably be in a mangrove forest.

There are several tour operators in the area and, based on recommendations, we chose Dev’s Adventure Tours as they are focused on conservation and education. They offer several tour options, including kayaking, but in the end, I opted for the evening motorboat tour with dinner included. Our naturalist guide was fantastic. The boys were initially disappointed about missing the kayaking, but it quickly became clear the boat was the better choice for us. It was small enough to glide deep into the mangroves but fast enough to cover far more ground than a kayak.

We also chose to return via the open sea, which meant a wildly bouncy ride through the surf.

We later met up with the kayak group at dinner. While we had spotted kingfishers, eagles, hawks, monkeys, and a viper (a sighting I personally could have skipped), the kayak group, who were hot, sweaty, and heavily mosquito-bitten, had seen far less wildlife.

*Credit for the Kingfisher photos goes to our incredible guide.

In fairness, wildlife sightings are about 90% luck. Our guide admitted that depending on the season, wind, and general cosmic whim, kayakers have incredible sightings too.

Still, as we headed back to the hotel the boys declared the tour “completely and unexpectedly awesome.”

A big win for the trip planner. (Ahem…me.)

Skybridge, Skycab and Eagle’s Nest

The next morning I gave the boys a choice: another activity or a full pool day.

To my surprise, they chose activity.

So off we went to explore Langkawi’s famous SkyBridge and Skycab.

Located near Langkawi’s second-highest peak, the SkyBridge is one of the longest curved, free-span pedestrian bridges in the world. On the drive over I quickly purchased express tickets online and was very glad I did. We arrived just thirty minutes after opening and the lines were already hundreds of people deep.

Unfortunately, the bridge itself was temporarily closed due to high winds. After a quick chat with another group of travelers, who had a local friend assuring us that wind closures happen all the time and rarely last long, we decided to head up anyway.

To reach the bridge you first take the SkyCab (the cable car), which carries you about a mile and a half up the mountain. With sections reaching a 42-degree angle, it’s one of the steepest gondola rides in the world.

At the top the views were spectacular, rolling jungle, jagged limestone peaks, and the sea stretching endlessly into the horizon.

There’s also a newer attraction called the Eagle’s Nest Skywalk. I had skipped it when buying tickets, assuming it was a tourist trap.

Mistake.

The moment we stepped out and saw the views, I knew the boys would want to do it. Luckily there was a ticket booth on site. The skywalk is a cantilevered glass platform jutting out over the mountainside, offering (more) breathtaking views and a deeply unsettling look straight down.

Tourist trap? Yes.
Worth it? Also yes.

The boys loved it.

I…demonstrated great bravery by staring firmly at the horizon.

Not long after, the winds died down and the SkyBridge reopened. Up we went again. From the bridge the view stretches in a sweeping panoramic arc across the island and sea. Between the views and the engineering marvel of the bridge itself, we stayed far longer than I had expected. Eventually we made our way back down the mountain. The boys enjoyed the descent even more than the ride up, enthusiastically encouraging me to “Look down! It’s awesome!”

Back at the resort we happily resumed our beach bum lifestyle, alternating between the pool and the ocean (though slightly more cautiously this time thanks to a newly posted jellyfish warning sign).

As the sun began to set we wandered down the beach into town and grabbed some overpriced drinks. Mine came with a tiny umbrella because, frankly, one must have at least one drink with a tiny umbrella while at the beach.

Fully satisfied with the day, we headed back toward the resort as the sun slipped below the horizon.

The tween raced ahead, trying (unsuccessfully) to catch one of the darting crabs. The teen lingered behind, humming along to music playing softly from his phone.

I walked between them, taking quiet mental snapshots of this fleeting moment in time.