Suitcase Soiree

After 6 weeks in beautiful Thailand, we finally mustered the strength to bid adieu to Massaman, the Baht, and my beloved Boots. Now we’re in Malaysia. Took the ferry from Ko Lipe (aka paradise - go here before it’s taken over by tourism) to Langkawi to Penang (my Indian food cravings have been satisfied momentarily) and then a bus to Kuala Lumpur. I haven’t written much the last couple of weeks because I’m trying this thing where I write more in a personal journal than I do online. I’m not sure that my role is to dole out travel advice or to promote myself on the internet (although I’ve been guilty of trying to do this). I am appreciative of the internet but don’t want to live on it. And I love details but simultaneously hate them. I doubt if the details are what inspire people to travel anyway. It’s the stories.  If you want details, get yourself a Lonely Planet (I’m happy to leave that market to them – they’re good at it) or send me a message. I will gladly provide my logistical and financial know-how if you’re interested or need help with a trip itinerary or specific activity.

But for now, I want to share something awesome that happened in Langkawi, a beautiful island off the northwestern coast of Malaysia. The main beaches were a bit underwhelming due to litter and lack of upkeep, but the island itself is gorgeous – covered in lush vegetation and peppered by majestic mountains and waterfalls. I actually felt revived after arriving and devoured every moment we spent zipping around on the motorbike, the air densely fragrant and full of life. We met awesome people, stocked up on duty-free supplies (can you say 1 litre of Stoli for little more than US$10?!), and I won a limbo contest. Yup, that’s right.  I won a limbo contest. After trying out a few different bars, we ended up at a nondescript and stifling warm joint called 1812, where we were immediately welcomed by staff as if we were family. Emmie, the little lady running things, grabbed my hands, “Welcome! What will you have?” The guy in charge of the music was so much more than a DJ as he played the guitar and encouraged the bar (a mix of many nationalities and age groups) to sing along and dance to a mix of Malaysian and popular tunes. Conga dancing became a favorite for everyone and the greatest game of Jenga I’ve ever seen was in full force. The limbo was just one of the many events that evening, but it became my glory as I back-bent (and sweat) my way to victory. I was awarded a free cocktail of my choosing and someone even asked if I was a gymnast; I can’t imagine a better compliment. By 4 am (the bar doesn’t close as long as people are there), I had 15 new friends. It was like stumbling upon a wedding you weren’t invited to, no one noticing, and leaving with a second family. Go, Malaysia. So far, you are one edible nugget!