Exploring Langkawi by Bicycle: A Day of Food, Nature, and Kindness
Hello, this is Hiro, cycling around the world.
November 17th marked my second day in Malaysia. Unlike the day before, today was not about border crossings or ferry rides—it was a day to explore Langkawi itself. With no strict schedule, I allowed myself a slow start, leaving around ten in the morning.
Every day on this journey, I’ve been trimming down my luggage a little. Bit by bit, my belongings grow lighter, and so does my body. Today, I set off with that same sense of release.
A Breakfast to Remember
Not far from the guesthouse, I stumbled upon a small food stall. Traveling has taught me that these humble street-side kitchens often serve the most unforgettable meals.
The dish I tried today was Kuey Teow Ladna, priced at 276 yen. To put it simply—it was the best meal I’ve had on this journey so far. Imagine noodles hidden beneath a rich, seafood-flavored sauce, balanced with vinegar and a tang similar to Japanese yuzu pepper. Every bite was a surprise, comforting yet refreshing.
It was so good that I slowed down to savor it, taking almost twenty minutes to finish. When I asked the staff how to say “thank you” in Malay, they told me: “Terima kasih.”
The sound reminded me strongly of Indonesian, and when I checked, I learned that the two languages share many similarities. Since I plan to travel to Indonesia in December, this simple exchange became a kind of practice for the road ahead.
Cycling Through Island Landscapes
With breakfast fueling me, I began riding across Langkawi. Within just ten minutes, I felt the island’s natural beauty pressing in from every direction—dense greenery, humid air, and the ever-present sea breeze.
The road, however, was narrow. Compared to other countries, Malaysia’s island roads demanded more caution. Still, the scenery opened up now and then, revealing vast stretches of nature. One view, in particular, reminded me of cycling through Iga City in Japan a year and a half ago.
It made me wonder: perhaps there are universal landscapes, primal scenes of nature that echo across the world. Over centuries, cultures have shaped land into unique forms, but if you look closely, you can still see a common origin beneath it all.
Reaching the Guesthouse
By late afternoon, I rode toward my guesthouse. Langkawi’s perimeter may not even stretch 100 kilometers, but the endless climbs and descents made the journey exhausting. My knees ached with every pedal stroke. Finally, I arrived at a small guesthouse, cheerful on the outside, modest but comfortable within.
One feature stood out immediately: a large carpet spread on the floor in front of the bed. This, I realized, was for prayer. Unlike hotels I had stayed in elsewhere, Malaysian rooms often include such a space, reflecting daily life and faith.
Even small details—like the arrangement of furniture, or the mysterious stain on the ceiling—reminded me how each country shapes its living spaces differently. It’s a quiet way of learning culture, not through museums, but through the rooms we sleep in.
Supermarkets and Sweet Bread
Since there were no nearby food stalls, I walked to a large supermarket called Billion. Exploring supermarkets abroad is one of my favorite activities. Shelves often hide local fish, fruits, or snacks that never leave the country.
Outside the store, I found Rotiboy, a bakery selling what looked like donuts but weren’t. The packaging featured a smiling character reminiscent of “Mrs. Fields.” For 3 ringgit (about 103 yen), I bought one. Inside, it was simple—no filling, just a cinnamon-flavored sweet bread. Light, fluffy, and perfect for a small appetite.
An Unexpected Guide
In the evening, something remarkable happened. A Malaysian man I had met on the ferry to Langkawi messaged me. “Let me show you Langkawi,” he said. Without hesitation, I agreed. Soon we were driving together, exploring places far from the tourist trail.
At his shop, he offered me a refreshing drink. It wasn’t as strong as Red Bull, but it gave a light, uplifting kick—perfect for the humid weather.
Then he drove me to a hidden spot: a quiet pier on the opposite side of Kuah, where not a single tourist was in sight. The sun set over the water, and the silence was broken only by the lapping of waves. To be invited to such a place felt like an extraordinary gift.
Our time was brief, only about an hour. Yet in that time, he showed me his shop, his school, and pieces of his daily life. We spoke about work, about the future, about dreams. For me, this short encounter was priceless—a reminder that travel is not only about landscapes, but about the people who generously open their worlds to you.
Closing the Day
That night, I returned to my guesthouse with a full heart. From an unforgettable breakfast to a stranger’s kindness, Langkawi had welcomed me with both flavor and warmth.
Tomorrow, the road continues. But tonight, I rest, grateful for the people and the island that gave me so much in a single day.
