There is a real sense of desperation in finding paradise these days. Where is that safe, untouched and magical place? For many of us weary travelers of a certain age, it must include a splash of luxury; gone are my days of sleeping in rickety hostel beds and bug-happy safari tents.
In a far-flung corner of northeastern Borneo, in a protected rainforest reserve, I found that fleeting sense of true escapism at a luxury lodge. This vast island in Southeast Asia — divided between Malaysia, Indonesia and Brunei — is home to rainforests estimated to be up to 140 million years old, some 15,000 plant species, over 350 bird species and, of course, orangutans, as well as endangered endemic species like the Bornean gibbon. It is one of the world’s most accessible spots for those seeking remoteness and an immersion into raw nature — without rawness in the hospitality department.
And far to the west, on a far smaller island off Malaysia’s mainland, two different resorts offer a similar slice of luxury and sense of remoteness. Langkawi Island has rainforests, too, but with a classic beach vibe; miles of rugged coastline abound with wildlife.
These two oases in Malaysia, to me, highlight the country’s unparalleled combination of tourism with a bit of the edge taken off. Malaysia welcomed more than 42 million visitor arrivals last year, surpassing neighboring Thailand, which has islands overburdened with mass tourism. Yet it doesn’t feel as crowded as much of Thailand, and it has less of a party atmosphere.
Borneo has been on my radar with recent news of rainforests being decimated across Southeast Asia, including huge swaths of the Indonesian part of the island, which is about 73 percent of Borneo (Malaysia takes up roughly 26 percent, and the remaining sliver is Brunei). This added to my sense of urgency in getting there.
My first stop was the Borneo Rainforest Lodge, about two hours and 45 minutes by car west of the seaside city of Lahad Datu, which is most easily reached by daily 90-minute flights from Kota Kinabalu, the capital of the Malaysian state of Sabah on the northeast coast of Borneo. The lodge is nestled in the 169-square-mile (438-square-kilometer) Danum Valley Conservation Area, which preserves the habitats of 124 species of mammals, including orangutans, gibbons, mousedeer, clouded leopards and dozens of endemic species of birds.
Driving into this vast expanse was an immersion course in the sights, smells and sounds of the forest. Once at the lodge, the environment is alive and cocoons you in a canopy. And the performance never ends. As evening descends, the sound of birdsong gives way to a night symphony: treehole frogs, the aptly named six o’clock cicada (always cued up for the evening) and the western tarsier, pitched gently in the key of shrill.
Excursions included canoeing down a gentle river; ideal for those of us who have given up our days of rapids. Morning safaris were a cacophony of birds welcoming the day, followed by a canopy walk 88 feet, or 27 meters, above the ground. The canopy stretches nearly 1,000 feet as the clouds drape themselves in between the trees all around.
Night safaris are a revelation. Neon amphibians dazzle as if in the spotlight as a tour guide moves his light across branches and low-lying plants.
My four-day, three-night package (packages vary from three days to five days) was about 6,350 Malaysian ringgits, or $1,600, per person based on double occupancy and included all meals, excursions and transfers to and from the airport in Lahad Datu. The lodge’s affiliated tour company has tours throughout the island and on the Malaysian mainland.
Across the South China Sea to the west, about 1,200 miles as a hornbill flies, is Langkawi Island, one of Malaysia’s most visited spots. It somehow feels very far from Thailand, its busy and immediate neighbor to the north. Several preserved natural areas mean far less development. On the island’s northwest corner, tucked away on a peninsula where the rainforest meets the sea, is the Datai Langkawi. Opened in 1993 and designed by the architect Kerry Hill, this resort is a study in minimalism and luxury that feels far less intrusive to the natural surrounding than most others.
Yellow hornbills pose and preen in branches around the resort. Dusky langurs, also known as dusky leaf monkeys, hang out, almost like neighbors who have no boundaries. Their wide, dark eyes, surrounded by white patches, seem to ask the perennial, “what’s up?”
The Datai, locally owned (including partially by the government) and situated on a natural reserve and isolated from other resorts, feels truly removed from it all. The hotel is nestled in the forest just above a cove facing north into the Strait of Malacca, which keeps the beach view as rustic and natural as possible. Most of the excursions the resort offers involve wildlife viewing, guided by local experts. To the south, about 30 minutes by car, is the Langkawi Sky Bridge, for those wanting a more touristy excursion. The curved suspension walking bridge between mountaintops places you firmly in the treetops, like the wildlife that’s forever singing and swinging on this island.
The Datai’s 121 rooms, suites and villas start at 3,240 Malaysian ringgits per night, or roughly $825, for a basic king room, with pool villas priced from around $1,300.
On the island’s northern coast, the Four Seasons Resort Langkawi is also a study in luxurious minimalism. This beachside resort is close to Kilim Geoforest Park, a meandering maze of mangroves, bat caves and soaring limestone formations jutting from the water. It is also the only resort with direct access to the area and not far from the often-crowded jetty entrance farther upstream. Excursions offer a deep dive into the island’s flora and fauna. We spotted eagles, scads of macaques and even a fleeting glimpse of a pair of mudskippers (those fish that can walk on land … fast).
The Four Seasons has 92 rooms (starting at around $600, depending on the season) including beachside villas (out of my price range). Elegant trimmings of native merbau wood, known for its beauty and durability, with both Malay and Moorish influences, and the soft colorful décor and cushioned furniture throughout the resort make this a soft place to land after a day out experiencing the local wildlife. The sounds of the pounding surf and gentle rainforest are all around.
Indeed, on both of these island wonderlands, from Borneo to Malaysia’s westernmost reaches, the almost guaranteed afternoon rains are soothing in a way I’d never imagined. And the sounds of the local wildlife don’t stop when it rains. Far from it: they seem to be thanking the rainforest gods for their daily blessing. Their search for paradise, it seems, is enviably complete. And thanks to them, I’m almost there.
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