I’ve been banging on about the mangosteen fruit to anyone who will listen for years. It’s a very rare, almost mythological fruit that, according to legend, is the tastiest thing on Earth and has been the cause of countless quests and disputes over the centuries. Queen Victoria once offered a reward of £100 to anyone who could bring her one of these notorious and desirable things.
My borderline obsession with the mangosteen has existed for long times and I’ve searched for it through Africa, Asia and Latin America over the years – all to no avail. Until today. Having asked at every fruit stall that I’ve seen since I left London, this glorious woman at a beer stall down a track at the end of Cenang Beach on Langkawi delved in a bucket she had at the back of her shop and produced a mangosteen in the palm of her hand.
Cue slightly over-the-top and no doubt baffling hysterical excitement from me. You can see that I’m still slightly in shock here:
Simply delicious. Consistency rather like a lychee, flesh tastes a little like a peach but sweeter, small stone in the middle. Nothing at all like a mango.
With the mangosteen under my belt, all I need to do now is land on water in a seaplane and the two main objectives of this trip are completed. Then I can ditch the whole ridiculous enterprise and return home.