Pantai Kok Beach had flown under my radar thus fur, but I received a tip to check it out, and, well, the places you’ve never heard about often turn out to lead to the best surprises. Not only did I score a tour of the island from a local, but I discovered where to see the dusky leaf monkeys. These were not the ordinary brown, evil-faced monkeys you see all over Southeast Asia. These were the cute ones with the rings around their eyes. Yes there is a difference. Read on if you care to learn more.

Pantai Kok was a natural beach, not groomed for tourists or anything. The odd piece of plastic trash was scattered here and there. Mangrove roots jutted out of the sand. Broken shells made the walk slightly uncomfortable, but I was determined to not be bothered by it. I used to practically live barefoot after all. 

The odd tourist would show up and walk the stretch of beach as I was doing, then disappear, only to be replaced by another. Besides that, the place was quiet. I liked that. Not wanting to get my towel sandy (yeah, I really hate sand for someone who loves the beach so much), I laid it out over some flat rocks instead and basked in the sun for a while. 

When I returned to where I had parked my scooter, I noticed that the monkeys with the rings around their eyes were there in the parking lot. These weren’t the greedy-faced, common, brown monkeys you see all over these parts. No, these were monkeys I had seen for the first time at the Botanical Gardens in George Town. At the time they had been way up in a tree, and I hadn’t been able to get a proper look at them. Now they were congregating in the parking lot. 

I approached to find a Western, enviously tan family feeding them cookies. I stepped over to get some photos, only for a local man to tap me on the shoulder and hand me some of the cookies as well. I thanked him, even though I generally try to avoid feeding monkeys. I’ve heard horror stories about them getting aggressive for more and more food, until the unlucky person who was dumb enough to carry food into an area full of monkeys in the first place is sent to the hospital for a painful series of rabies shots. Call me paranoid. You can see the greed and connivance in their faces though. The common brown ones anyway (I guess they are called crab-eating macaques if you know your monkeys). 

These guys didn’t have the creepy faces. Their faces looked like little plush animals, and the white rings around their eyes were especially cute. It took me a while to realize that they also had white spots on their mouths. I had though they were just being messy about eating the cookies at first. 

I handed a monkey a cookie and he took it away gently with leathery little hands. I couldn’t help but smile. 

The local man who had given me the cookies told me which ones were the newborns, and how they were born orange before changing into the black and white color pattern. He also showed me which ones were pregnant, and explained that these species of monkeys were quite shy. Normally they didn’t hang out around humans, but the ones at this beach and another one at the marina gas station had become accustomed to putting on a show for tourists in exchange for cookies. “Dusky leaf monkeys” they were called. 

The man introduced himself as “Chief,” and as was custom in Malaysia, asked the usual niceties of where I had been, where I was headed, and what I had already seen in Langkawi. Upon hearing that I was headed to Koh Lipe next, he offered me his business card and a better price for the transfer than the tour offices in town had offered. Then he told me his story, that he was showing this family around. They had been here for two months, and he was going to show them the “secret pool” next if I wanted to join. 

I felt bad intruding on what was obviously a private tour, but the husband of the Swedish family reiterated that I was welcome to join. Curiosity got the better of me. All the tours on the beach were the exact same things. Island hopping to beach a, b, c, and d; mangrove tours with included activities a, b, c, and d; and jet ski tours. I had not heard of the Secret Pool, and was excited at the prospect of an insider tip from a local. 

So we set off on our four scooters. Chief led the way, Mom and Dad each had a daughter on the backs of their bikes, about nine and ten years old, and I took up the rear. 

I marveled at the family as we made our way along the jungle roads. They were characters straight out of a castaway type show. Mom was a doppelgänger of the female vocalist from Die Antwoord. They were all tall, thin, toned, and way too tan to be Swedish as they claimed. They looked like they had been living the Robinson Crusoe life for the past months. Usually I would roll my eyes at parents in those parts who never gave up on traveling and were now towing their screaming kids around. Places with direct flights were for family vacations. Wandering around to distant places via an endless series of busses and ferries was no place for little kids. And yet these girls were not not normal Western kids whining to have their iPhones back. They were miniature versions of their parents – well traveled, with curious eyes that soaked everything in. Two months in Langkawi, just living like the locals. What an interesting family. 

Our train of four scooters drove up the mountain, and then veered onto the side of a road that was blocked off. A little while later, we pulled over onto the side of an unassuming road. There was no indication that anything would be here, just endless expanses of jungle on either side. Chief pointed us into the woods, and I wondered for a brief moment if this was the part where five Western tourists had their kidneys harvested (hey, you have to consider all the possibilities). But right there, past the first couple trees and down a slight slope, was a small clearing with a pool. Crystal clear spring water was flowing out of a wide pipe in the mountain. Chief told us that if we soaked our feet and held very still, shrimps would come to nibble away the dead skin, just like at the fish spas in Thailand. 

Haha what fun! The smallest of the shrimps were mere grains of rice. The biggest were maybe two inches long. Before long, my feet were tickling as the shrimps dutifully groomed the grooves surrounding my toenails. What an odd experience. 

Chief asked if I would join them for sunset, and I took him up on the offer, not ready to end such a pleasant experience yet. 

Along the way we stopped at a roadside stand where four local women were selling freshly baked donuts. I had decided just that day to take a break from all the sugar and fried foods (two things I never eat at home, and my skin was thanking me for it), but how often are you at a fresh, home-baked donut stand run by four ladies who hardly speak any English in the middle of a tropical island? I tried one green and one yellow as Chief suggested, and it was pure, sugary goodness. 

We caravanned down a dirt road through a tranquil farm area where cows were grazing peacefully in the pastures, with lush, jungle-covered hills rolling in the background. It was a scene out of a quintessential, rural, Southeast Asia postcard. Then we stopped at a little reservoir where there were supposedly crocodiles, and warning signs not to go swimming. 

We made our way back to the beach where I had met Chief and the Swedish family only a few short hours ago. This time we drove to the opposite end of the beach, where a lighthouse stood. This, Chief told us, was the best spot to watch the sun set this time of year. Eventually, as the Earth circled in orbit, the sun would be setting behind the hill, and then another beach would be the better viewing spot. But in January in Langkawi, Pantai Kok beach, next to the lighthouse, was the ideal spot. 

Some dark clouds prevented us from seeing the full show, and Chief voiced that there probably wouldn’t be many colors tonight because of that. Mother Nature surprised us though, and we were treated to a lovely purple sky. 

I promised Chief I would come find him again to book my transfer to Koh Lipe. He had given me the best price, and giving him my business was the least I could do as thanks for such a wonderful afternoon. 

If you are ever in Langkawi and in need of a wonderful tour guide, with local, insider stories to share, and fair prices, then Chief is your guy. He works for the Rainbow Inn in Cenai, and I will post his business card details here (which have gotten a little soggy in the meantime). Give him a shout. I am sure he would be happy to offer you a tour of his beautiful island. 

P.S. I found out later on that he had befriended the Swedish family, and was giving them a tour on his day off, hence why they were all so welcoming to me tagging a long. So don’t worry, if you pay for a private tour, you won’t be picking up any additional people like me along the way.