Where's all the bars at?

Little sleep on the train thinking about double coral and I pass out on the ferry crossing. An hour and a half go by and not even the rough waters disturb me. Your body will sleep when it needs to; don't you worry. Yawn.

Langkawi Island has no public transport; so it's either taxis to cover ground, or moped rental. Like the filling of a BLT, the island is sandwiched between Thailand and Malaysia. I just wish the former had ownership rather than the latter, for one day in and I'm about as excited as baseball fan must be watching a 5-day test match. It's expensive too; Thailand is generally around 4-5 quid for a moped – here it's 9. Over a barrel, I bite for a 2-day rental so I can look at the islands many... yawn... Attrac... yawn... tions.

Sadly there's not that much to pick from. The cable-car with a 41 degree climb to 700m in altitude elevates to a suspension bridge that wobbles in the wind. I'm more interested in how it was constructed than the views; views, schmiews. Where's the directors commentary on this bit of engineering ingenuity; nowhere to be seen. It’s always the engineers that get left out; the posters proclaim incredible views but say nothing of the intelligence behind its design. A thankless job.


Much like two days would easily cover KL; one day would do it here. It's also low season, which doesn't help, but with beaches completely abandoned by locals (either working, or not permitted to sunbath – burkas don't really aid a tan now do they), it's a little lonely on the many sands dotted around the coast. The "black sand beach" has a silly legend to explain the dark colouration, so stop off and enjoy the tale. Another site of interest is a ludicrously placed resort; almost dead centre on the highest point of the island.

Constructed by an oil tycoon with too much money, too little sense and a self-belief of gargantuan proportions; the locale features everything a resort should, and a tower to elevate you to 900m for some more... yawn... views. It's along a 12k winding road that takes at least 30 minutes to safely cover and increases in altitude linearly. The new PR manager insists there will be scores of queuing punters waiting to book the resort, come high season and with his input. With a further 20k to any nearby town or site of vague interest, one thing is desperately clear; he's new.

Two very friendly and fluent locals in the Starf*cks scribbled some nightlife areas on my map, so I'm heading there by two-wheeled petrol-propulsion. They both laughed as I strolled in and poised for a moment, before asking "Hey. So where's all the bars at?!" It's looking cloudy on the horizon and with a grunt to myself I feel a tickle on my top lip; the rain cometh. I'd forgotten just how hard it can be in SE Asia, and as a few minutes pass it's gone from a mild irritant to a full-scale downpour. I'd stop and wait it out if I wasn't such a stubborn sod; my thinking being that it would pass and at speed the wind will dry me quickly. Passing by the many mosques I’m impressed at the sheer density of megaphone-equipped structures broadcasting their wailing to anyone trying to eat, sleep, watch the telly or perhaps – write a blog. There’s one about every 500 metres; no wonder I can’t find a bar.

The strip I have marked has bled in to a mess of blue ink, but having found my way and with expectations of something like Ao Nang; I'm disappointed to find the following: A sports bar - closed, an Irish bar - empty, many restaurants - grossly expensive, an aquarium - yawn and a breakfast bar - with one couple.

One thing that does seem to attract punters is the lure of "duty free" shopping. And with at least four "megamalls" (proportionally large for the size of island, but nothing compared to a major city), offering all manner of items, I manage to pick up some warmer clothes for New Zealand. At four quid for a top and eight for some combats though, I'm fairly certain Primark isn’t far off.

A day-trip at best, I'm glad to be departing for the namesake of one of my most favourite dishes of the area; Penang Island. I hear the nightlife is better, sights more cultural and historical (due to the original settlers), and it’s easier to get around; excellent. I hope I make it in one piece – the waters are decidedly rough today and the captain is doing a sterling job making this three hour crossing as painful as it could possibly be. I'm sure I won't be sleeping through it and daren't offer my stomach anything to work at.