The Plantation - Di Morrissey [99]
‘Sounds good. So explain about the place where we are staying?’
‘It’s run by two Australian women. Nerida started it, gosh, maybe eighteen years ago. The hotel has just grown … but in a nice way. It used to be closer to the sea but land was reclaimed so now the compound is on the edge of some lovely rice fields. Nerida started collecting traditional Malay houses that were going to be pulled down and had them moved to her place, which was once a coconut plantation, and saved them from demolition.’
‘What a great thing to do!’
‘Yep, she’s shipped them in from every Malaysian state, so the houses she’s got are all different architectural styles. She’s made them very classy and comfortable. All are set in the lovely hotel grounds and come complete with lap pools,’ explained Christopher.
‘It sounds amazing and different.’
As they drove the short distance to the resort, Julie was enchanted by Langkawi. She could see the blue sea through the waving palm trees, glimpses of casual streets lined with thatched-roofed bars and outdoor restaurants, and a few holiday shops selling sarongs and souvenirs. They passed lush emerald rice fields, where lazy water buffaloes wallowed, watched by a solitary farmer in a peaked straw hat.
‘Very picture postcard, isn’t it?’ she said to Christopher.
‘There’s a rice museum on Langkawi, where you can learn all about this staple of Asia. Now, here’s the turn off into our resort.’
‘Oh, it’s so tropical. I love all the coconut palms. I feel like I’ve come into some magic village,’ exclaimed Julie as the cars drove down a small lane and stopped outside a wonderful Chinese house.
‘I wonder what state they’ve put us in,’ said Christopher.
Julie was mystified by this remark until she began to look around and saw all the restored buildings that had been rescued from various parts of Malaysia. Chinese, Malay and Indian houses, plantation workers’ cottages, as well as a colonial mansion were cleverly spaced around the secluded gardens, all representing the architecture of the various Malay states.
Julie was accommodated in an old Malay house, which had originally been a fisherman’s hut but had now been transformed into a summery, colourful house. There was a balcony at the front and at the back was a secluded open-air bathroom and sun deck, holding a big old wooden bathtub. Inside, the bed was swathed in a mosquito net. There was a ceiling fan, turning slowly, but Julie noticed that there was also an air conditioner. The windows had intricately carved shutters and an inviting daybed on the sundeck was covered in colourful silk cushions. The whole house was simple and stylish, and, despite its old world charm, she was glad to find all the modern amenities she might need, including a cat.
As she started to unpack, a large black and white cat with a short tail with a kink in it strolled up the front steps and made itself at home. When she explored the gardens later, she found cats lurking around the red altar in the temple yard. The animals sat by the long lap pool or lazed on top of an old stone wall, which surrounded the large two-storey Chinese villa where Martine, Shane and Peter were staying.
‘Come on in, Julie, we’ve opened the bar,’ called out Peter from its upstairs balcony.
Seated on the wide verandah in comfortable planters’ chairs and surrounded by antiques, Julie sipped a cold drink. As the fan above her slowly whirred, Julie could imagine that she’d stepped back a hundred years in time. They were soon joined by Christopher, Carl and Tina and the owner of the resort, Nerida, whose dream this place had been. The hotel staff were young and friendly but unobtrusive, quietly delivering a tray of delicious hors d’oeuvres and a platter of fruit to the new arrivals.
‘You can see why our kids love it here,’ said Shane.