Letting Go in Langkawi

A three year old screaming - quite articulately - for his mother's breast milk prevented us from napping (or eating, or having faith in humanity) on our flight from Kuala Lumpur to Langkawi.

It was pretty bad.

Luckily, the rest of our Langkawi trip truly proved to be paradise.

It was 11 PM by the time we got to our hotel, our ears still painfully ringing with the sounds of a (walking and talking) child demanding breast milk.  As we signed papers, we were given towels soaked in jasmine water and a cocktail of freshly squeezed fruit juices to wash away our trauma.

We walked up to our room, immediately taken by the hardwood floors (Vin and I were still in new-home mode).  We freshened up while watching some National Geographic (did you know there are Amazonian ants that torture predators to death?) and then ran down to catch the hotel's late night happy hour, enjoying some bourbon and live jazz.  At some point, we were the only patrons left, and the singer and band directed their attention - and intense eye contact - to us.

I woke up early the next morning to finish work, softly typing out desperate emails to my colleagues in efforts not to wake up Vin.  My mind and stomach were still churning with thoughts of affirmative defenses when we walked into the sunny dining room, and I was suddenly overwhelmed by a more joyous stress - choice of breakfast.  There was a buffet and a la carte.  There was hot breakfast, pastries, Malaysian food, Indian food, fruit, continental breakfast, British breakfast, a noodle bar, a cheese station, a champagne bucket, parfait bar, bread baskets, and a bar with freshly squeezed fruit juices.  There was roti canai, nasi lemak, baked beans, toast, huevos rancheros, and taro dumplings.  There was iced coffee and kiwi juice and mango smoothies.

Vin and I had everything, obviously.

   

The next few days proceeded similarly.  We would wake up, eat gargantuan breakfasts, nap by the pool, nap by the ocean, swim in the pool, swim in the ocean.  At 3 PM, the hotel would have its afternoon happy hour, of which we were compelled to take advantage.  Our anxiety from work, from the breast-milk-demanding-toddler, from the intense eye contact by the hotel's band, gradually dissipated.  We were happy and forgetful.

While we were never hungry for lunch, we were always ready to eat dinner.  After watching a couple of hours of National Geographic, we would head down to the main restaurant, and both nights ate stellar Indian food, some of the best I have ever had.  Knowing they would be made with filtered water, we excitedly ate all the chutneys.  Yes, we've become our parents, and we're here for it.

Vin and I were genuinely afraid to leave Langkawi.  We felt almost heavy with our relaxation.  And we didn't know where else to watch National Geographic.  (Seriously, it's not on Netflix.)  But, we had to move on to Siem Reap.  Our paradise had to become a memory.

Our hotel gave us a little tin containing two truffles when we left.  We ate them on the way to the airport.  They were delicious.