Malaysian Beach Life

Well, how about that, it’s been and gone for another year. I really hope that you and yours had a great Christmas. Jane and I certainly had a good one. Christmas Day was spent on our own before Jane went off to one of our daughters for a Boxing Day top-up.

I must confess, I am not the most sociable of animals, so I stayed at home with a plentiful supply of beer, wine, mince pies and left-over turkey.

The thought of three dogs, four grandchildren, three grown-up children and partners and Jane all under the same roof is not the most attractive way to spend an afternoon and evening.

Yeah, I know, bar-humbug. Scrooge, I have to say, what a man! Why has he never been on the reverse of banknotes or on stamps. Don’t worry, if he has, I really don’t need to know. Before I leave it there, I would like to add that I love them all to the end of the world and back. You never know, I might need caring for one day!

Now, before you go off and do battle with the sales, pour yourself a coffee, find a leftover pig-in-a-blanket and imagine a Malaysian beach on the tropical island of Langkawi. White sand between your toes, crystal clear blue seas kissing the strand and cocktail umbrellas sheltering your drink from the blazing sun. Got it? Good, I shall begin.

This was our second visit to Casa del Mar, a resort located right next to the Andaman Sea on the beautiful island of Langkawi. We had over-reached our financial capability and treated ourselves to a suite on the second level. Our accommodation afforded us two separate balconies, each looking out at the aforementioned Andaman Sea with its gently rippling waves bringing in the tenderest of breezes. Picture it? If not, I can tell you if it is not paradise, it is very close to it. It certainly does it for me.

Every time we wake up to a murky English winter’s morning, I lay back, close my eyes and am transported back to the outdoor hammock at this exotic utopia. I can tell you now, we didn’t really do an awful lot in the ten days we were there. Runs along the beach, sessions in the well-equipped gym and laps of the swimming pool were all available to us on a daily basis, three or four times a day if we wished. We didn’t do any of that! Yeah, I know, shame on us.

As a rule, I don’t usually include hotel reviews in these texts, but I will let you know about the package we had on this occasion. As mentioned, we had a suite on the first floor with commanding views across the sea. The accommodation consisted of a separate lounge, dining room and bedroom. There was a generously sized bathroom affording us all the facilities you would expect at bathtime.

Some of our fellow guests felt that the bathrooms were now getting a little tired and could benefit from a bit of an upgrade. This might or might not have been the case, either way, they had everything we needed to keep clean, and that’s what counts. Most important of all, though, and get this, there was a bottomless cookie jar.

We bought a package that gave us ten nights bed and breakfast, including two Malaysian massages each and four on-the-beach dinners apiece. The massages were administered by very powerful ladies who didn’t hold back when it came to pummelling one’s soft tissue and muscles.

The food was magnificent, whether you chose to eat on the sand or in the restaurant. It is certainly the match of anything anywhere in the world, in my humble opinion anyway. You can select from many and varied local dishes right through to international cuisine. My highlight is the bar. Before you say something like, no surprise there then, may I remind you of the libel and slander laws.

It is located within a beachside cabana and is simply divine and exotic in spades. Happy hour brings all the guests out where we swap tales of anything from where we come from or what we have done during the day. Cocktails, including mocktails, apparently, it’s a thing, and wine are in plentiful supply. If I can make one criticism and that is, as a beer drinker, the choice is very limited but when in Rome and all that sort of thing. I got by.

The choice of eateries along the strip just down from the resort seemed never-ending. There was Indian, there was Chinese, there was Lebanese and there was Turkish, then there was Malaysian and Pakistani and, of all things, American. Didn’t try the American. More often or not, and wherever you went, you can enjoy a two-course dinner with drinks for less than a tenner apiece. Not sure you can beat that, the saving on eating out alone nearly pays for the flights.

One memorable tale to tell featured our friends whom we had reunited with this time around. For the purposes of these pages, I shall refer to us, collectively, as the “2EASY” gang. We consisted of two East Anglians, Jane and I, a Scotsman, Brian, and his wife, a Yorkie lass, Linda.

Well, one evening after eating out at a restaurant along the strip we wandered back beachside, calling in at a bar right on the sand. Brian, complete with his broad Scots accent, went in to order drinks. He came back, with no little cursing, moaning that the bar staff couldn’t understand him. Boy, did I laugh, not a lot to be fair, only a massive amount. It still makes me break out in a titter to this day and, I am sure, will keep me comforted well into my dotage.

I spent my mornings, more often or not, sitting with an open French door, writing and I can’t think of a better environment to do this. The air was always warm, the birdsong was exotic and the muffled voices carrying in through the open doors were as if happy people had been wrapped in cotton wool. It was absolutely sublime. We didn’t venture far.

One excursion we took was a sunset cruise passing between the beautiful rocky outcrops rising from the sea like age-old colossi from pre-historic myth. It, even to me, was truly magnificent.

We went as the “2EASY” gang, and it really was a superb evening spent with wonderful friends. We boarded the PV (Pleasure Vessel) “Crystal” for this much anticipated pootle through the islets laying just off the coast.

The start was slightly inauspicious, music blaring out like we were in our twenties, and boarding from one of those party ports in the Mediterranean. The music was, very much, that “Boom, boom, shake the room” type. It was going to be a long three hours! The music calmed to a similar intensity as the sea, as gentle as a village pond, and much more to our liking. The trip was over in the blink of an eye, well worth doing again.

According to the other three the unintentional floorshow was something to behold. We had found a berth on the starboard side, roughly amidships, which afforded us a great view of the dancefloor located on the foredeck, roughly half a level higher than where we were.

One lady, shall we say she was roughly in our vintage was really going for it. Availing herself of the complimentary alcoholic beverages on offer, she very soon got into the swing of things, affording us, and others for that matter, or did to those that could see, a glorious view of the twin mounds of her buttocks. Mini-skirts and thongs on sixty-somethings should carry a health warning. To be fair she wasn’t fazed by this and threw herself, wholeheartedly, into her passion. I’m really not quite sure how much she knew about her entertainment value, her escapades were at the fore in our conversations for days to come. Well done her. And, by the way, neither did she belong to our party nor was she staying at our resort. Peachy didn’t come to mind, more like overripe grapefruit! “Crystal” is very modern.

The crew cooked up a first-class barbecue, with plentiful meat and vegetarian options available. As mentioned above the booze was all included in the price and we certainly availed ourselves of this offer.

We threaded our way between glorious looking islands, most uninhabited, but some providing homes to the wealthiest in the land. One thing they had in common, in general at any rate, was that they all had brilliant white sandy beaches at their feet, with steep slopes of verdant growth giving them a typically tropical and exotic appearance which, of course, is exactly what they are.

One of these privately owned islands is, most definitely, going to be the hideout of the baddies in the novel I am currently writing. One day, after facing the usual morning quandary of laying on a sun-lounger and taking a dip in the pool or laying on a sun-lounger and taking a dip in the pool, I felt we had overdone the pool bit, floating on one’s back, on lounger or in pool, is incredibly exhaustive, you would not believe. So, why not partake of a spot of lunch?

Whilst munching through a club sandwich, or whatever, it really wasn’t that important in the scheme of things, Jane espied another couple whom she thought had been with us the previous year.

The lady passed through the restaurant to use the facilities and popped over to say hello. They had spotted us and thought we had met on a cruise some place.

Well, sea, white sand and plentiful food and drink, an easy mistake to make. This time, we have remained in touch ever since. All good things have a downside, don’t they, Julie and Chris are Australian.

It really isn’t their fault! Now is not a great time to be considering our nation’s ongoing relationship with the Aussies, having just been battered at cricket all over again. One thing about most Australians is that they are incredibly magnanimous in victory, don’t you find that. The same magnanimity doesn’t always extend itself to defeat.

On the morning of my 66th birthday, I know, hard to believe but it’s true, I received a text. Graciousness was front and centre of the greeting missive, wishing me well on my birthday and observing how nice it was that England let me have an Ashes win to celebrate. But there always has to be a barb, doesn’t there, Chris went on to say that it was the Poms first victory on Aussie soil for 5,468 days. Wow! Who the hell is bothered about looking things like that up? Ouch!

Do you know and I am sure you have all been there. You are on holiday, somewhere nice and sunny, drinks slipping down rather nicely, when you invite your drinking buddies to come and visit when they are next in your neck of the woods. What you really don’t expect is that they will actually take up the invitation!

Chris and Julie did come over and visit around eight or so weeks later and, I have to say, we had a wonderful time. We took them to our local pub and, I think, it is safe to say that they had a good time too. Can’t wait for the next time, maybe in Australia during our proposed 2026/27 winter sojourn.

One evening, the hotel laid on a Chinese New Year celebration to mark the incoming Year of the Snake. Everything on offer was absolutely free. Bar tenders would pass among us, forever topping up half-empty glasses. Isn’t that dangerous? You never really have any proper idea of how much you have necked.

The cooks from the restaurant went about mixing up food to offer us a very tasty spicy salad. Too much to eat, too much to drink, we were surprised when many of our fellow guests decided to march off along the strip for even more food. We opted for an ice cream each but settled for some Indian titbits, an easy mistake to make.

We wandered down to the beach for our return to the resort. It was beautiful. A full moon reflecting off the water, the gentle rollers kissing the sand and the tropical air. It was a real Showaddywaddy moment: “Under the Moon of Love,” before, I hoped, “Three Steps to Heaven” with my “Pretty Little Angel Eyes.”

As we tried to creep past the bar, our ruse was discovered, a Scottish growl sounding more like a cannon going off, stopped us in our tracks. “Hey, where d’ ya think yous a goin’?” That was it, “Hey Rock and Roll” would have to be put on hold.

If you are too young to have been Showaddywaddied, look them up.

Find Out More Casa del Mar:
https://www.casadelmar-langkawi.com

Crystal Cruises:
https://www.crystalyacht.com

White Cane Ratings
Casa del Mar: very good, easy accessibility - 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯 (4)
Crystal Cruises: very good, attentive staff - 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯 (4)