Kuala Lumpur's bustling Chinatown was packed with tiny shops and many make-shift and mobile stalls with offerings of herbs, curios, clothes, ethnic jewellery, and even teapots from India and Myanmar. The aroma of spices and seafood wafted across the night air.
A vibrant green landscape, through which man-made brown trails made their way, a sandy beach lapped by silvery waters, camera-shy animals darting in and out of the foliage…. No wonder then, Sarawak is known for its eco-tourism.
If in Paris, it is the Eiffel Tower and in New York, the Statue of Liberty, in Sarawak, it is the longhouse…almost like a small village under one roof, where different families - or a big extended one - lived in separate apartments but shared a common habitation.

Tribal artefacts and electronic gizmos…polished high-rises and quaint long houses…sprawling wetlands and commercial complexes…. Malaysia is indeed a many-hued experience. Shraddha Jahagirdar-Saxena returns from her recent tryst with the country, her mind reeling with a plethora of images

A frisson of excitement - mingled with a tinge of trepidation - shivered down my spine as I took in the tree-dotted expanse of the lush mangrove in front of me. From the vantage - albeit, very slight point of view - log steps, the ground, from which countless breathing, aerial roots peeped upwards to the bright blue sky, looked firm enough to withstand mortal weight…. But would it take mine? Guessing at my inner hesitation, my middle-aged guide, Anna, grinned and stepped down agilely, urging me to follow her. Smiling sheepishly, I did…and trod gingerly in her footsteps in quest of the much talked-about proboscis monkeys at Sarawak's famed Bako National Park. Around a curve of the verdant landscape, I got my reward - a close look at the long-nosed simians!

Anna had picked me up early enough from my hotel overlooking Kuching's serene waterfront, for about half an hour's drive to the small wooden wharf where we would depart for the Bako National Park. I was dressed to her precise instructions: "Wear loose trousers, sturdy walking shoes and a hat to keep your head cool." The journey, to the mouth of the Bako River, was short and swift, as, fitted with the mandatory life jackets, we settled down in the mechanised boat. My peaked cap flew off in a gust of breeze and the smiling boatman did a complete U-circle to rescue it from a watery end.

On terra firma in the park, it was communion with nature at its best. A vibrant green landscape, through which man-made brown trails made their way, a sandy beach lapped by silvery waters, camera-shy animals darting in and out of the foliage…. No wonder then, as my guide emphasised, Sarawak was known for its eco-tourism with its nine national parks and rich wildlife. The hornbill, a protected bird, is its official state emblem.

Lunch awaited us at a small shack on the mainland. The crispy greens, local fish in a sweet sauce, steaming rice, topped by fresh coconut water had me asking for more. A far cry from the steaming satay (skewered chicken barbecued over charcoal and served with a spicy dip) that I had savoured at Kuching's Hilton the previous night, but equally aromatic and appetising. Fresh air and good food took their toll and I flopped down on a comfortable chair close to the river, watching cherubic kids in their colourful uniforms being ferried across, post a session at school.

Back to the hotel, I was soon sauntering along the picturesque waterfront. A series of tiny shops lined the Sarawak River, each stocked with a variety of local fare. Seeking an authentic, colourful mask to take home, I trooped in and out of more shops than I can remember, finding myself clutching bags filled with printed tops, wooden figurines, bangles, wall hangings and miniature silverware. The shopkeepers were polite and ready to please. Once when I frowned over the price - after painfully doing a ringgit-rupee conversion, an elderly shopkeeper said, "You tell me what you will pay. If I am happy with it, the mask is yours!" Thus, I became the proud possessor of not one, but two!

The next morning, I leisurely explored the Sarawak Museum in Kuching, with Anna, of course. It has a mind-boggling collection of tribal artefacts and is a permanent host to many native crafts and arts. Another must-see museum in Kuching - incidentally the capital of Sarawak - is the Cat Museum that does feline lovers proud. On the roads of Kuching (which means cat in Malay), I spotted many cats - all captured in still life. In fact, I was quite dwarfed by a huge white statue! Kuching even has a month-long cat festival for feline lovers…an event that I, a dog-lover, was rather relieved to have missed.

But, one site that I wouldn't have wanted to skip is the Sarawak Cultural Village, home to a diversity of tribes. My trip to the cultural village led me to authentic replicas of ethnic dwellings of tribes like Ibans, Bidayuh, Penan, Orang Ulu, Melanau, Malay and Chinese. Anna pointed out the longhouses unique to the area, where most of the tribes lived. Underlining their importance she said that in Paris, it is the Eiffel Tower, in New York, the Statue of Liberty and in Sarawak, it is the longhouses. So, we walked in and out of one of the dwellings whose size and length (as its name suggests) surprised me. Interestingly, a longhouse is almost like a small village under one roof, where different families - or a big extended one - lived in separate apartments but shared a common habitation. I shivered at the sight of a few skulls hanging inside an Iban longhouse and later tried my skills - in vain - at a bit of blowpipe shooting. The Penan 'host' made it look oh-so-easy.

From tribal homes to a hearth…. A hot cup of tea at the cultural village's Restaurant Budaya and then into a modern auditorium for the evening's entertainment. Performers dressed in colourful multi tribal costumes recreated the exuberant dances of age-old tribes. The highlight, of the evening, was, I felt, a 'hunting' ritual, complete with blowpipe arrows and a 'prey'.

When my plane had glided to a smooth halt at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport ten days before, I hadn't been completely prepared for the colourful contrasts that the country threw up. It was a pleasant juxtaposition of the contemporary and the traditional, commercial bustling hubs and wide open spaces - each with their own appeal.

The Petronas Twin Towers, currently the world's tallest free-standing towers, were the perfect place to begin my discovery of KL on a sunny morning. My guide, Jasti, had received me the previous day on my arrival, waving a placard with my name, bidding me, "Selamat datang" (Welcome to Malaysia). Clutching my entry pass carefully, I followed other tourists into the dizzying towers. Luckily for vertigo sufferers, visitors are allowed to go up only to the bridge that joins the two towers. Although the movement is imperceptible, it sways when gusts of wind blow. As I looked out on to the far flung city below, almost all the prominent sites were on view.

Menara Kuala Lumpur - The Kuala Lumpur Tower - is an imposing concrete tower, reputed to be the highest in Asia and the fourth highest communication tower in the world. Its observation deck gave us yet another bird's eye view of the city and, with a running commentary on the various buildings, it was KL in a nutshell.

In the heart of the city, I was pleasantly surprised to walk through the doorways of the Bird Park, located across the road from the beautiful Orchid Garden. A fine net covered the entire park, creating a pristine environment for the birds. Just inside the doorway, a small bird in a cage chirped an echo to my "Hello". As I walked the narrow pathways, across small bridges, I chanced upon many peacocks, some rare jungle fowl…and a few brown rabbits.

Driving by on the busy motorways, I noticed '2020', emblazoned in huge numbers on green patches at the kerbside. Jasti explained that it was the vision for the country. Not just seeking success in that year, but looking at perfection - as in perfect sight. A dream that is embedded in Putrajaya, the forerunner of the future Malaysian city. The official residence of the Prime Minister, the Seri Pardana Complex, is open to the public most days of the week. After depositing my passport at the entrance, a security requirement, I walked through umpteen doorways. I had to pause for a minute before entering the National Mosque to don appropriate attire. Wearing a crisp pink burkha, that covered me from head to foot, I stepped softly into the silent interiors and let the serenity wash over me. Even with many visitors, voices were lowered as people sat and prayed or admired the rose-tinted granite.

History, dreams and myths merge seamlessly in this land of variety to create a fine fabric of images. Many legends were woven into the sprawling hotel where I stayed, the Palace of Golden Horses. In fact, I spent many relaxing moments, reading the well-illustrated publication describing the origin of the hotel. True to its name, horses (of course, not real ones) - hooves, mane and all - are found everywhere. Even in the toilets where a horse design is etched on the shower glass.

Easily accessible from the hotel - either by a small boat ride or by the bus provided - is the Mines Shopping Centre…. The mall has rows of outlets, selling a plethora of products to delight any seasoned buyer's heart. Although the big malls like the BB Plaza Shopping Complex or the Mid Valley Megamall in KL offered a wide range of fashion wear, electronic goods and spices, I dragged my guide to Petaling Street and Jalan Bandar - the hub of KL's bustling Chinatown. The street was packed with tiny shops and many make-shift and mobile stalls with offerings of dried foodstuff, herbs, curios, clothes, ethnic jewellery, and even teapots from India and Myanmar. In one by-lane, I noticed dried fish lined up in rows, next to a vendor who was roasting coffee beans in a big vessel. The aroma of spices and seafood wafted across the night air…. A place where I made many good buys before I bid good bye to the street, just before its closing hours.

Back to the hotel, it was time to pack up… for an early morning departure. As I flopped down for a final good night's rest a kaleidoscope of images merged in my mind. Of well-mannered and extremely polite citizens who bid you welcome with a hand on their heart. Of a riot of splendid hues at the grand display at the Citrawarna 2004 - the colours of Malaysia - at the National Stadium, Bukit Jalil. Of a multitude of guests from different nations swinging to foot-thumping dances. Of lining up in front of a soft-spoken fortune teller to get a peep into my future at a ceremonial dinner….

Soon, it was time to bid adieu to Jasti, at the squeaky clean KLIA. He rolled my suitcases onto the luggage carousel, ensured that I checked in and then with a "Selamat tinggal, Selamat jalan" (goodbye and bon voyage), walked briskly away. Leaving me ample time to stroll to my departure point…and, of course, browse the duty free shops for chocolates and pepper for folks back home.