So Luxe. So Private. So Right.

Exquisite little gatherings are partially why Dato’ Mark and his family bought this invitingly lush 300-acre island in the first place. The other purpose was to create a five-star quality resort unlike anything else in the world.

And oh, has he succeeded.

Sylvia Sepielli, one of the spa gurus of the world, is here too. When Dato’ Mark envisioned having the most nurturing spa retreat in the world, he called on Sepielli, the U.S.-based mind-body healing guru, to create it. The result is Spa Village, an intimate enclave of indigenous treatment pavilions tucked between the jungle and the sea and connected by a network of flower-draped paths, lotus ponds, fountains and gardens. There are sleeping pavilions floating in the treetops, appointed with cushy pallets, silk pillows, herbal teas in Chinese cloisonné teapots and whatever other refreshing beverages one wishes to summon. There’s a lap pool, a movie-set library without walls, and dozens of spots to sink into a chaise lounge and drift off to the gentle music of the surf, wind chimes and the call of the long-tailed macaque monkey.

My home for the week is a stilt house over the sea, accessible by wooden walkways from the beach at Spa Village. Its spired roof line, rich red chengal wood walls and inset bamboo panels were designed in the style of Malaysia’s ancient Kampong villages. Walls simply fold away for a feeling of being at one with the universe.

My mission is to soak in the tranquillity, eat, sleep and consume potions that will release the toxins of too much chocolate, too many deadlines and too much time spent in airports. And, like every other guest, to be pampered and served by beautiful Malaysian, Indian and Chinese therapists, chefs, butlers and attendants dressed in sarongs or crisp ivory British Colonial uniforms.

As the spirit moves me, I can fish, snorkel, kayak, trek across the mountain and through the rainforest to the white-sand beach and green waters of Emerald Bay, or visit the quaint fishing village on neighboring Pangkor Island (Pangkor Laut means "little Pangkor"). Or I can just lounge on my deck and nod to the passing fishermen in their picturesque sampan-style anchovy boats.

On another day, my body is smoked in a thick cloud of incense in an ancient treatment called "Gu Fang Xun Shen." The Chinese herbalist asks the blessings of the four elements as the healing smoke helps release the physical and emotional aches and pains of life.

Between therapies, I may work out more stresses on the stony foot reflexology path or slip into an unoccupied nap gazebo.

Time passes. I vaguely remember the fragrance of sandalwood, lemon grass and ginger, a satiny-cool lime foot oil, coconut cream in my hair, and the tinkling of tiny bells to awaken me when treatments ended. I still can taste sensuous feasts of native seafood, curries, peanut sauces and the basket of freshly baked croissants, starfruit, boiled eggs and yogurt left at my door each morning. I recall very red sunsets and the picture-postcard silhouette of the stilt houses just before dawn. And when too many hours at the computer clench up my shoulders, I still can close my eyes and conjure up Beena with her brass bowl of warm sesame oil, and those muscles relax just enough to get through the crunch.

Pangkor Laut languishes off the west coast of Malaysia, a 90-minute flight from Singapore and 55 minutes from Kuala Lumpur. Its almost-as-decadent sister resort, Tanjong Jara, is on the southeast coast of Malaysia in the South China Sea.

Peninsular Malaysia, with its Malay, Chinese and Indian mix, is considered a world model in peaceful coexistence. Kuala Lumpur is a stunningly beautiful modern city; its silvery skyscrapers mixed with romantic Moorish architecture and British Colonial gingerbread, while most of the country is dotted with quaint Malay villages and undulating miles of palm plantations. Shopping in the traditional marketplaces is a wonderful adventure. You’ll find incredible bargains in batik fabrics and silk saris; pewter and silver; wood carvings; and treasured gold-threaded Songket tapestries. Don’t miss the succulent lychees, crisp sesame cookies and sweet coconut candies. Be very brave and try Malaysia’s most cherished fruit, the incredibly ugly durian. Despite its evil, almost unbearable odor and menacing green spikes, it’s filled with a divine custard-like substance, earning its place as "king of fruits."

The favorable exchange rate, currently at about 3.63 Malaysian ringgit (RM) to the U.S. dollar, can more than make up for costly airfares. Malaysia Airlines departs the United States from Newark, with connections through Stockholm; or from Los Angeles, through Taipei.

Rates at Pangkor Laut begin at about $1,500 (stilt houses at Spa Village) or $15,000 (the Estates) for a three-day stay. The Estates are sumptuous, open Asian-style island palaces similar to Dato’ Mark Yeoh’s own home. Tariffs there include dining, nonalcoholic beverages, laundry, and luxury yacht or ferry transport to the mainland port of Lumut. Spa services and therapies are available packaged or à la carte, starting at $90.