Kilim Geo-Forest Park on Langkawi Island, Malaysia

the park sign as sign from the ocean

Langkawi Island, an island till covered by tropical rainforest off the coast of Malaysia. The locals are mellow, the island Islamic, and though slightly off the beaten off, if you're a nature lover it's well worth the visit as the island has much natural beauty as well as protected regions, and one the biggest attractions is Kilim Geo-Forest Park.
Take a slow (and fast) boat with a guide down the river and see the mangrove jungle for yourself. From the bat caves (hard to get any decent photos) to the monkeys you might see playing and feeding along the forest.
Check the video below, and then the photos, of what you're liable to find here in a pleasant half day excursion.

Video: the sights and animals of Kilim Geo-Forest Park (see the monkey?)

archer fish- they actually shoot water from there mouths to knock insect out of the air so they can feed

Shoe island- Langkawai, Malaysia. See it? See it???

the spectacular scenery

monitor lizard

an eagle, the symbol of Langkawi flying overhead

the dense, and smelly, mangrove forest up close

slightly common macaque monkey handling a crab it caught

baby faced rock- lock left and bottom jutting out

more rare species of monkey- would blend in perfectly if not for the white faces

monkey up close- has muscles

Cameron Highlands, Near Death in the Malaysian Jungle

The old growth forest has been cut down long ago. New trees have sprung, but there’s still a battle dominance for the canopy, some light filtering through, allowing more bramble than normal on the rain forest floor.

Mankind has made his presence known, carving plantations into the forest where the hills are less steep.

Man's presence in the jungle

Precipitation begins as I join an expedition with two newly graduated German doctors, exploring the surrounding wilderness. The rain comes harder making the path slick as we ascend and descend the steep hillsides.

We enter into denser jungle, carefully climbing over the roots of large trees up a nearly vertical path. I feel something on my skin. I pull up my sleeve and find a leech attached to my upper arm. Adrenaline rushes through me as I pull it off and smash it. Blood squirts everywhere- my blood, a tax exacted by nature for her exploration.

Waterfall in Cameron Highlands

We climb the steep hills, then slowly descend. After several miles we reach a cross-roads, lost. The sun is rapidly falling in the sky, and being lost in this leech filled jungle for a cold night is not an enticing proposition. We argue over which way to go, eventually agreeing to take a path through thick shrubbery up and over the mountain. Huffing and puffing, we reach the top, then ever so slowly descending back down. We find a trail to our great relief.

jungle vegetation

The ultra-narrow path takes the nimbleness of a mountain goat to traverse, as it cuts horizontally across the steep mountain, the ground falling out at a near 90 degree angle below us. Fall and it might be death, best case scenario- serious injury. We slowly make our way, the ground slick from the rains.

Out of nowhere, a large python-like water pipe emerges, feeding a tea plantation in the distance slithering along our trail. We’re relieved not to be far from town as darkness overtakes the sky. I take a deep breath and suddenly feel the footing beneath me give way. I feel the instant acceleration of gravity pull me downwards; going over the ledge, without any thought, I instinctively grab onto the friendly snake. My hand catches, and I pull myself up, before my surprised doctor friends even have any chance to react.

“How did you that? How did you have the presence of mind to grab the pipe?”

No mind involved there, no thought. Instinct leading to clear action that saved my life. I rub the mud off my clothing and we continue on our way.

Tea plantation

The Snake Temple- (Penang, Malaysia)

I'm glad to leave Singapore- its draconian laws and secret police. The nightmare that I might somehow be framed with drugs and end up on death row would be much less vivid if I believed the island nation had any sort of due process or flexibility in meting out punishment.

I've flown to Penang, an island just off the Malaysian coast. The roads here are narrow, and as wealth has increased over recent years, so has traffic. A minute outside the airport  my cab driver tries to sell me on the idea of hiring him for the next day, describing the attractions as far apart. 

"Where is the Snake Temple?" I ask him. 

"Right here." 

I think he is joking. "Really?"

"What, you think I’m joking?"

"Wow, okay, can we stop? I'll give you a tip."

The car pulls over instantly.

“Can I go back to the airport and put my name in the queue? Then I’ll come back and pick you up.”

“Let me take my luggage out of the car in case you forget.”

Snake Temple in Penang Malaysia, outside

 So, here I am at the Snake temple, where deadly pit vipers freely roam. It’s straight up an Indiana Jones nightmare, but I gotta see it. Although vipers are normally aggressive, devotees of the temple believe the thick clouds of incense smoke makes them tranquil. I would largely agree, with the minor exception that I was bitten by two of the serpents and told not to come back. "This our house!" I quote one of them as saying.

Deadly vipers of the Snake Temple

Legend has it that when the temple was first built back in the 1800’s, lethal snakes slithered into the house of worship from the surrounding jungle. The founding monk, who apparently drank a little too much wa-wa juice, deemed this to be a good omen, and the serpents were allowed to stay and breed ... this would not have been my solution.

Today, the snakes slide around the temple, looking for someone (anyone) to bite, but kept at bay by handlers who pick them up with a forked stick and place them in trees, either real or man-made.

 

a look inside the Snake Temple

Today with the urban development that has taken place, vipers no longer make their way to the temple from the jungle which once surrounded the grounds. The forest is all but gone.

You'd think this would be a welcomed development, but apparently devotees actively bring and donate these poisonous snakes to the temple on Chor's feast days.

I exit, grateful that I didn't get here on Chor's feast day. ("Look at my snake Rich! Isn't he a cutie? Go ahead, touch him, he doesn't bite.") My cab pulls up just as I exit out the building. 
I see this as fortuitous event, now I'm hoping they keep anti-venom at the local hospital.

All kidding aside, if you're in Penang, Malaysia, you definitely want to visit the snake temple.