You’re in Kuching and have two or three days to play with. You want a bit of everything: some snorkelling, pristine forests, lovely beaches, fresh food and a touch of local culture. Semua pun mahu! (Everything also want!) That’s your rallying cry as a value-for-money-seeking Malaysian. So where do you go?

One option that fits the bill is located at Tanjung Datu, the westernmost tip of Sarawak. Here, the state’s smallest national park offers a rare combination – coral reefs and primary forests within 100m of each other. And you get to stay practically at the park’s doorstep in the fishing village of Teluk Melano – a mere three hours from Kuching by van and motorboat.

But before getting there, I was in for an encounter with some honeybees, a small motorboat in open seas and Edward Mansel, the state’s Best Tourist Guide of 2002.

We set out from Kuching in the morning and arrived at Sampadi, a plantation of fast growing Acacia magnum trees, within an hour. These “instant forests”, normally grown for paper pulp, lack biodiversity. But they do have one plus point – honey.

“The state agricultural research centre has set up a pilot beekeeping project to provide extra income to local farmers. The honey produced here is one of the best in the world,” explained Mansel, formerly a senior manager at the centre.

With such an authoritative source of information at hand, we discovered how bees are protected from ants, what temperature to pasteurise honey at, and a unique aphrodisiac – just pop some live bee larvae into your mouth – ahem, for men that is. Less adventurous (and raunchy) folks can sample delectable honey straight from the comb. Ah . . . the hidden delights of agricultural tourism (agro-tourism).

Another hour’s drive brought us to the little town of Lundu, where the coastal strip of south-west Sarawak begins. After lunch at the market, we soon rolled into the charming seaside town of Sematan, some 30km down the road. At some old but very well-preserved Chinese wooden shops, we stocked up on beer, before boarding our little motorboat for Teluk Melano (the word teluk in Malay means “bay”).

“A road could be built there,” said Mansel. “There would be big hotels instead of the little homestays. Then the locals would be lucky to get a job as hotel gardeners.”

The homestay programme there was first conceived by the Fisheries Development Authority to eradicate rural poverty.

“There are people in the coastal areas who live below the poverty line of RM300 per family. Some only earn RM3 a day,” noted our guide.

After 45 minutes of riding through calm seas, the majestic sweep of the coconut-fringed bay greeted us. A few fishing boats bobbed about the long jetty while crisp sea breezes tousled our hair. Welcome to Teluk Melano.

In time, we were introduced to our host family over some tea and kuih before setting off on a languid walk around the village.

“You learn how to relax when you come here. There’s no need to be like some Singaporeans. Every five minutes they must do something,” smiled Mansel.

“The people here are very generous. When we first started this programme, the villagers would give their heirlooms away. Nowadays, we try to encourage them to make handicrafts as souvenirs instead.”

Apart from the main beach, there are a few small isolated bays and beaches a short walk away. Visitors can also walk inland to see the pepper vines or try their hand at spreading out peppercorns on mats for sun-drying.

The villagers are Sarawakian Malays who earn a living by fishing and planting pepper. If you really push on inland, you’ll reach the Indonesian border in half an hour – but it’s not an official crossing point.

About half of the village’s 40-plus families are participating in the homestay programme. Three years ago, Borneo Inbound Tours and Travel, in a joint venture with the Sematan Fishermen’s Association, started bringing in guests. Tourist traffic has grown to the modest number of 400 (for 2002).

Probably the best thing about this down-to-earth tourism programme is that the money goes not to some fancy foreign hotel chain but to local people who really appreciate it. And they get to be their own bosses (of their own homes and boats!) with minimal capital outlay. Any “development”, in terms of facilities (accommodation, recreation) and experience (in handling the tourism business), will presumably be self-grown instead of being subsidy-fed.

After a dinner of fried fish, curried vegetables, large anchovies and superbly fresh belacan, we adjourned to the seaside teratak (resting house) for some beer.

“It’s a neutral area in the village,” pointed out Mansel. And of course, this is Sarawak, which is renowned for its more open-minded and tolerant attitudes.

Next day, a 10-minute boat ride brought us to the state’s smallest national park at Tanjung Datu. Not only is its size (only 14 sq km) unique. Here, the hill forest meets the sea directly. Unlike elsewhere in the state, there is no intervening zone of lowland forest, peat swamp or mangrove.

The brilliant aquamarine waters, imposing rocky outcrops and soothing forest were the perfect setting for a tropical paradise. Too bad we had to return to Kuching that afternoon. However, during the normal three-day programme run by Borneo Inbound, a full day is spent at the park snorkelling and jungle trekking.

Tanjung Datu is not officially open to the public for overnight stays. Instead, the government promotes the homestay programme at Teluk Melano.

This preserves the environment in two ways. For one, it’s always better to minimise buildings in a national park, especially a small one where the beaches are important nesting grounds for olive ridley and hawksbill turtles. Bright resorts and noisy tourists (as found on the islands of Pulau Redang and Pulau Perhentian in Terengganu) are not exactly the kind of reception turtles want when laying their eggs.

The homestay programme also protects the park indirectly.

“When locals have enough money from tourism, they don’t need to chop firewood or poach animals in the national park,” underlined Mansel.

“Various studies have shown that national parks cannot succeed without the cooperation of the people who live nearby.”

So there we have it. The semua pun mahu quest manages to combine everything – agro-tourism, cultural-tourism, adventure-tourism, eco-tourism – in one package.

And in the process, it provides poor rural folk with an independent, dignified livelihood and helps preserve the environment. What better deal could there be? W