First of all, a quick apology for the unfortunate copy & paste error in my last post! From now on I proof read after transferring the text across, not just before…
All was forgotten the following morning, and we were all looking forward to an exciting/confusing event on the beach that afternoon, some kind of annual water festival.
We didn’t really know what to expect, and what it turned out to be was far more bizarre than we could really have anticipated.
The posters up around town advertising the event said there’d be a contest where participants had to chase ducks in the sea. We assumed these would be rubber duckies floating in the waves but oh, how wrong we were.
Real, living, breathing, quacking ducks. Released into an ocean with not insignificantly sized waves crashing up onto the shore, knocking the poor little guys over half the time and sweeping them away in the rip, and a fun mix of local adults taking it way too seriously, kids not taking it seriously enough, and Barney.
In spite of his power smoking (he said he smoked 5x more in south east Asia because it was so cheap) and how much he’d drunk the night before, Barney was still a bit of an athlete. The waves, skinny Malaysian kids and bewildered birds were no match for him, and within a few minutes our man came bounding back onto the shore with a new feathery friend carefully enclosed inside his hands.
So we guessed he’d won, but ah, what now? We wandered over to the judges table, where another duck was already being held next to one judge's seat, and asked them.
The duck was his to keep! And he also won a fine china tea set.
Now I don’t know if you’ve been on a backpacking trip before, but a live duck and a large tea set are not exactly items you’ll find listed as must haves in your backpack in Lonely Planet’s south east Asia on a Shoestring.
He figured he’d either squeeze the tea set into his bag until he went home to give it to his Mum, or pay for postage to send it as a gift. Fair enough.
But the duck?! What does a foreign traveller do with a live duck when he is due to depart the country within 24 hours?
Roam up and down the beach of course, asking any local you can whether they are willing to adopt (and not eat!) the precious creature.
We did so without much success for a good while, on the verge of giving up and just releasing the duck to waddle off down the beach when one of those judges graciously offered to take him off our hands (I’m sure we’d named the duck by then, but I really don’t remember what the name was, unfortunately) and assured us in an incredibly unconvincing manner that this duck would not become dinner within the next few days.
Duck adopted and water festival done for, we went back to the guesthouse to relax ahead of our last night on the island.
My last night in Langkawi, and the last night for most of us, was Arsenal match day! So of course I needed to find a bar showing the game.
Some of the guys who’d been there a little longer knew of a small place at the other end of the beach that usually showed games, so we headed down there an hour or so before kick off. No one else really cared about the game, but it was a chance to get out for a few beers while keeping me company, so a couple joined.
I remember that Arsenal won, which meant Wigan, who I’d watched win the FA Cup final a few days ago, got relegated, and Arsenal were in pole position to hold onto a top 4 spot at the expense of Tottenham.
If you’re not into football, my apologies for breaking into another language there, but know that this was pretty important to me - enough that I was happier watching this in a shitty dive bar than spending my last evening on the island with the rest of the group.
The guys that came with me that night - Mark & Dave, from memory - had gone home before the match ended, happy in the knowledge they’d found me a screen to watch it on.
Once the game ended I was a few kilometres away from the guesthouse with no idea how safe it really was to walk home in the middle of the night (the night before, a sly pick up line in the wrong ear from Barney earned us a few threats from territorial locals, stories from the barman and a scar on his friends face telling us he wasn’t making shit up) or how far it really was.
To my surprise, a local lad who’d been sat next to me throughout the match offered to drive me home on the back of his bike. He didn’t have a spare helmet, but promised to drive slowly. I was surprised by his generosity, but shouldn’t have been. People tend to just be nice in this part of the world.
He was a Manchester United fan, so we exchanged a bit of banter through the short drive before he dropped me safely outside the guesthouse. I thanked him and went straight to bed.
The following morning, it was almost time to say goodbye to the island that had helped me grow more as a person in one week than any other place or experience had in years.
Just a final note on that Langkawi crew before I finally move on to the next destination in my next post - unfortunately two of the people who had the biggest influence on me that week are no longer with us.
A little later in my travels, Dave revealed to me via facebook messenger that he was slowly losing a battle with some kind of terminal illness. He delivered the news in such a matter of fact way that told me he’d already made his peace with it somewhat, and it shed a little more light to me on the kind of person he was and how much he went out of his way to help me and the rest of us youngsters around him that week.
We stayed in touch throughout my travels and for as long afterwards as he was still around. Every time he was working his magic on a new woman, and enjoying his days in some beautiful spots around south east Asia. We were exchanging messages a little under a year later when he told me he didn’t have much time left, and soon enough, the replies stopped.
I was able to tell him just how much he had influenced me, thanked him for it, and was genuinely glad to know that he went out in the knowledge that that one week in each other's company did so much for this young lad he only met by happy accident.
Dave - when I finally make it to Sri Lanka, my first drink will be for you mate.
The other person to be lost from our group was much more of a shock, and taken from the world far too early.
When I met Barney, I did hate him just a little bit. It was pure jealousy though and I knew it, because he was so much of what I wanted to be - confident, vibrant, living life exactly how he wanted to and embracing everyone around him - while I was still stuck very much in my shell, knowing I’d have to push myself hard to be more like him if I was going to get the most out of my travels.
I looked up to him so much during those first few days. He’d been travelling around south east Asia for a while and had all these great stories. He was as comfortable on a motorbike as I was in bed on Sunday mornings after a night out. He gave off this incredibly infectious, positive vibe to everyone in his presence. He caught a damn duck at a festival and tried to prevent it from getting eaten!
Eventually during that time on Langkawi, his attitude rubbed off on me and gave me the push I needed to put myself out there a bit more and say yes to opportunities and adventures, big or small. It helped me a lot to make the most of the months that followed.
A few years on, a family member shared the tragic news of his death in a motorbike accident via his facebook page. It hit me like a ton of bricks, as it was impossible to believe that someone so full of life could’ve had it taken away so early. I reminisced about those happy days on Langkawi and exchanged a few messages with Kye and Sasha to remember him.
I think of Barney every time I start exploring a new place on two wheels, one of my favourite things to do in life, and always will.