LUMUT, July 25 — With the lifting of interstate travel restrictions during the recovery movement control order (RMCO) period, we Malaysians are venturing out of our homes for long-awaited vacations.

Perhaps not what we had previously planned for — a trip to Hokkaido for lavender fields in full bloom or a waist-widening food hop in Bangkok — but it’s a getaway nonetheless. After months of lockdown life, who could blame us?

Baby steps perhaps. For some of us, caution has become part of life, the new normal as it were.

We aren’t as keen to leave the safety of our homes only to join the crowds in another city. But some fresh air would be lovely, would be a relief.

Why not return to nature, if only for a weekend?

A school of tiny fish wind around rocks in shallow waters.

We decide to head to Pangkor Island, where there are plenty of opportunities to walk and explore. And there’s much to discover — or rediscover, for those of us who are used to nature jaunts in our youth — in this forgotten paradise of dense rainforest and mangrove swamps, of inland streams and sun-bleached sandy beaches.

The waters aren’t the clearest — this is the Straits of Malacca, after all — but on a good day, the shallows can reveal wonders, like schools of tiny fish winding around rocks, in search of food or avoiding becoming food themselves.

Escaping predators seems to be one of the daily activities for the various fauna here. Pangkor is part of Malaysia’s vast biodiversity and wide array of ecosystems which has evolved over 130 million years.

Fishing is a waiting game... even for the birds.

In our tropical rainforests, there is a lot to eat and there is always a danger of being eaten, depending on how far down the food chain a species is.

Still, as we clamber over rockier terrain by the coast, we observe many waterbirds patiently biding their time as they stand guard over their favourite boulders. Ask any fisherman: fishing is a waiting game.

Apparently, this holds true even for the birds.

We look upwards. The sight soaring above us seems an impossible thing: white breast and tail feathers; black neck and wings; that long, downward curved bill; and above all that, the golden casque on its upper mandible.

The sandy beach is full of surprises, from crabs to even praying mantises!

Fruit bats hanging from tree branches.

What is flying above us is a hornbill.

The bird, recognisable even from a distance thanks to its eponymous "horn”, is something I recall from WWF (World Wildlife Fund) sticker albums I kept as a kid growing up in the 80s.

For some reason I’ve always identified the hornbill with Borneo though the peninsula is home to 10 species of hornbills, two more than the island.

What we have spotted is likely the oriental pied hornbill (Anthracoceros albirostris), the smallest in the Bucerotidae family of birds.

The beach is full of living things. Crabs clamber in and out of holes in the sand. There are even jade-green praying mantises, looking entirely out of place among the grains, though what do we know? We are the interlopers here.

The spiky silhouette of a sea urchin.

Birds and insects aren’t the only creatures in flight, hovering over us like little lords.

It is high noon when we spot fruit bats hanging from tree branches. Nocturnal mammals, they will have their rest now before waking up at night and flying on wings of webbed limbs.

Climbing down a craggy ledge, we find ourselves returning to the water where schools of fish flourish. In deeper waters, there might be blue line grouper, barracuda, queenfish and yellowtail.

But here, closer to shore, where the water is more brackish, we detect the spiky silhouette of sea urchins. Sometimes an entire colony of them, like a black plague drifting in the shallows.

Monitor lizard basking on a rock.

Forgive us but our first thought was, "Is this the same as uni?” Rest assured we didn’t try to harvest any for an impromptu sushi making session.

A large monitor lizard basks on a rock, not moving even an inch. It’s the time of day for it to warm itself. It’s too warm for us, the midday sun practically scorching, so we retreat to the cover of the trees, the forest, the garden.

And to welcome coolness in the shade. It’s a far cry from the air-conditioned comforts of our homes and of shopping malls, but this feels closer to nature and to freedom. We remind ourselves always to stay safe but this little getaway feels like it’s helping us stay sane also.