I was summoned to spend six weeks working in the thriving Sarawakian capital of Kuching in late 1995, and I somehow managed to convince Issy to join me for the last three of those weeks. We had our then two offspring in tow - Scott aged nearly three, and Emma at eleven months. It wasnt still winter in Melbourne, so Im not sure what Issy was thinking. Im not too sure what I was thinking either for that matter. We had two interconnecting hotel rooms, but the establishment was an unachievable hike from the city centre. We didnt have access to a car, so Issy was cooped up 24/7 with two restless toddlers whilst I enjoyed the relative luxury of working in an office. Im not at all sure how she coped. I thought Id try to get her some respite by asking the hotel receptionist one morning whether she could arrange a baby sitter. She gave me a strange look and responded that the only sisters she had were adults, and in any event what business was it of mine, so it quickly became apparent that this wasnt going to be a particularly productive conversation. Issy bent over to pick
up a sock off the floor one day and did something horrible to her back, so we reluctantly made our way to the emergency department of the Kuching Public Hospital while one of my brave work colleagues was left to assume child minding duties. were taken, and a torn ligament was diagnosed. Issy was in agony, and the staff wanted to admit her. Id heard stories about Asian public hospitals, and none of them were good. One unconfirmed rumour suggested that you needed to supply your own food. I wasnt too keen on subjecting her to any of that, so we snuck out while no one was looking and she recuperated slowly back at the hotel.
We decided to make the most of our time in the region, so at the end of our Kuching stint we headed to the island of Langkawi off Peninsula Malaysias east coast. We were driven out of the airport past seemingly endless rows of military huts. Wed thought Langkawi was primarily a holiday island, so werent all that enamoured with the thought of sharing it with half the Malaysian army. We were therefore relieved to find out later that the huts were
actually part of a large resort This was however tempered somewhat by some lingering concerns about the architectural credentials of whoever theyd got to design it.
We spent a week at the spectacular Century (then Sheraton) Langkawi Beach Resort, which was built in the style of Malay palace around a number of sandy coves in the south west of the island. Lazing around the resorts pool quickly became akin to a not too relaxing jungle adventure. We had to battle to protect any snacks we ordered from packs of marauding monkeys. We also had to make sure we kept tiny Emma firmly strapped into her pram, as carting her off into the jungle along with whatever sandwiches and chips theyd managed to scavenge didnt look to be totally beyond them.
We soon discovered the powder fine white sand of the spectacular and monkey free Pantai Cenang Beach near the islands south end. It became restaurant central in the evening, and we dined on the sand at a German owned establishment most nights. The food was excellent and we had the added bonus of the staff always being quick to provide toys and games to keep our
We hired a car one day and headed off towards the north side of the island where we hoped to catch a glimpse of two renowned luxury resorts nestled in the jungle. We couldnt get past the security guards. In hindsight this may have been a blessing. I read now that at least some of the guests think that these fine establishments are haunted. One reported strange images in her photos. Anothers review included that the wedding hut on the beach .. is haunted with a woman (with a cats face) holding something wrapped in a shawl (believed to be a baby). Spooky.
