Kuala Lumpur - Four monkeys swagger into our beachside villa, eye the fruit bowl but then steal the biscuits.
Despite my husband’s attempts to shoo them away, they continue calmly thieving. It is only after a fearsome roar from me that they scarper.
This is our second visit to Langkawi, an archipelago of 99 islands off the west coast of Malaysia and an hour’s flight from Kuala Lumpur. My husband Andrew, 11-year-old daughter Daisy and I are smitten.
It is far less built up than the Balinese or Thai islands such as Koh Samui or Phuket and, as a result, instantly relaxing.
Langkawi is a geological and ecological wonderland of 550 million-year-old rock formations, mountainous rainforests and deserted islands. Formations of eroded limestone lurk in the grey-green Andaman Sea.
We take the 3½-hour boat ride — the mangrove safari — to the nearby Geoforest Park. The root structure of the mangroves is mesmeric. The haunting roots are taller than most trees.
We watch swimming macaque monkeys who leap onto our boat for pieces of apple. One has a two-day-old baby clinging to her.
Our guide takes us close to the banks to see slipper fish (with bulging bright blue eyes) and fiddler crabs, which emerge like bright jewels out of the black mud. Back at the Four Seasons hotel we feel immersed in nature and wander, like Alice in Wonderland, past trees as tall as telegraph poles and palm fronds as big as cars while being splattered by raindrops the size of gobstoppers.
The resort has a clever north/south divide between families and couples. The splashy noise of play comes only from the family pool.
At the Kelapa Grill, we lunch on Asian stir-fry and wood-fired pizza. My husband and I eat alone while Daisy sits with the new-found group of friends she has made at the fantastic children’s club, which offers catamaran sailing, rock climbing and bike rides.
But for real peace, we walk to the other end of the beach and the quiet adult pool.
Our favourite restaurant of the three in the resort is the Malay Ikan-Ikan. Every dish is an exquisite tangle of textures and flavours.
On our final day, we ask the manager what time it opens, as we want one last exquisite feast before going home, he says: “What time do you want it to open?”
Daily Mail