Andrew Catchpole

The last thing we expected on the back-roads of Langkawi was a traffic jam. But there we were, marooned behind a rickety old Datsun pick-up, inhaling the primeval pungency of its cargo of fruit as they warmed in the midday sun. The old man at the wheel was patiently waiting on a monitor lizard — four feet of shimmering silver from tail to flickering tongue — to amble across the road.