Penang National Park

I took a slow, tedius bus past endless white, high-rise buildings along the coast to Teluk Bahang, catching glimpses of dirty sea along the way. At the entrance to the national park they ask you to sign in, (they don't ask you to sign out) then let you loose in the park to wander the paths in the forest. Picnic tables and benches overlook the sea where the path is still paved and easy. But the path soon becomes a beaten track, with boulders and tree roots to step over, steep steps up and down, swinging wooden bridges over mangrove swamps and low branches to crawl under. In places they have built wooden walkways over the more difficult parts of the terrain.The paths are cool and shady, dense multilayered rainforest covers the hills, right down to the shoreline.

Out to sea there are floating villages, long tail boats and fishing boats. further round the coast there's an old jetty, lines of wooden poles sticking out of the sea - decaying remnants of old Penang. Fishermen were mending their nets in a blue and red striped boat. Troops of Malay Muslim girls, covered from head to toe, were walking the paths, their men walking ahead of them with huge pots of food. They didn't walk far. They found a place to picnic on a little beach, shaded by trees. The women sat demurely in little circles on the sand, round mats for the food. The men stand some distance away, minding the barbecue, chatting and smoking.

A group of young Chinese men and women, all dressed in shorts, teeshirts and trainers, come along, all chatting together, laughing.

Giant lizards scuttle away into the bushes when people approach. I saw one lying on a beach under some trees. It waddled into the sea and swam, like a miniature Loch Nes monster, with its nose sticking out.  It crawled onto a rock and lay there, turning its head, as though it was aware of me looking at it, then it slid into the sea, swam to the shore and dissappeared into the undergrowth.