My journey across <a href="https://www.thenationalnews.com/tags/malaysia/" target="_blank">Malaysia</a> begins in the bustling capital of <a href="https://www.thenationalnews.com/travel/2024/01/02/kuala-lumpur-is-emerging-as-asias-next-golf-tourism-hub/" target="_blank">Kuala Lumpur</a>. It is hosting the annual Gold Threads Awards, an initiative that aims to preserve the nation's rich cultural heritage of weaving, <a href="https://www.thenationalnews.com/world/asia/streets-run-red-as-floods-hit-indonesian-batik-manufacturing-hub-1.1161057" target="_blank">batik</a> printing, beadwork, embroidery and gold embellishment. The Hasanah Foundation organises the awards and also operates a programme that focuses on empowering artisans, often women, to earn a sustainable living from their crafts. I begin my journey at the National Textile Museum, housed in the monumental Sultan Abdul Samad Building. Originally the government offices of the British colonial rulers, the building is a late 19th century landmark of swirling, ornate Anglo-Moorish architecture. Rarely visited on the usual Kuala Lumpur tourist track, the museum is a hidden gem. It has a maze of galleries that are filled with rare antique Malay songket, a luxurious hand-woven silk fabric decorated with intricate designs of gold and silver threads. The galleries also contain dramatic ikat textiles interpreting dreams of the indigenous tribes from the island of Borneo. Wandering the halls, I discover delicate Indian saris and ornate beaded dresses and shoes. It is attire worn by elegant Nyonya ladies, who are mixed race Chinese Malays, primarily from Malacca and Penang. The combination of craft and colour inspires me, and I can't wait to set off travelling across Malaysia to see these workshops for myself. But first, there is an awards ceremony to attend. A glamorous affair, the Gold Threads Awards evokes red carpet fashion show vibes. But there are no chic models on stage. A parade of slightly overawed craftsmen and women are in their place. It's a fitting homage to the dedicated artisans keeping alive Malaysia’s intangible heritage. “These people are national treasures for us, just like renowned French haute couture houses who rely on the expertise of specialists to create and embellish their exclusive collections,” says Melinda Looi, a local fashion designer. Next morning, with the glamour of awards night over, I head to Kuala Terengganu on Malaysia’s east coast. It is the cultural heartland of the country’s ethnic Muslim Malays, and a paradise for holidaymakers, thanks to its 700 kilometres of uninterrupted palm-fringed sandy beaches. Resisting the temptation to hop on a quick flight and add to my carbon-footprint, I take the slow route. It is a lazy four-hour drive from Kuala Lumpur along the well-maintained East Coast motorway, passing through spectacular landscapes; dense jungle-clad highlands; rolling hills covered with criss-cross lines of palm oil and rubber plantations; and sleepy kampong villages. One of these landscapes serves as the perfect stopping point for a mid-journey break. I enjoy a hearty plate of nasi lemak, a local favourite of coconut-steamed rice, crunchy ikan bilis anchovies, boiled egg, peanuts and a fiery sambal chilli sauce. I reach<a href="https://www.thenationalnews.com/lifestyle/travel/shelling-out-inside-the-malaysian-resort-mixing-tourism-with-turtle-conservation-1.944624" target="_blank"> Kuala Terengganu</a> but base myself 50 kilometres outside the city at the beachfront resort Tanjong Jara. It is the ideal location to immediately immerse myself in Terengganu’s cultural heritage. It has grandiose architecture inspired by 17th century wooden royal palaces and exquisite traditional locavore cuisine. It is not surprising that many guests spend their whole stay ensconced in the resort, but early next morning my delightfully eccentric guide, Nazarul, who regales me the whole day by singing sentimental Malay songs and reciting pantun limericks, is ready and waiting to introduce me to the wealth of heritage crafts that Kuala Terengganu is famous for. As my idea is to “follow the thread” of the Hasanah textile awards, our first stop is an introduction into the fascinating world of songket weaving, a craft that's been practised here since the 15th century when it was initially used to produce sumptuous ceremonial costumes worn by Malaysian royal families. Fittingly, the spacious atelier of Yayasan Tuanku Nur Zahirah was founded in 2007 by the wife of Terengganu’s present sultan, to revive the art of songket while improving the livelihood of artisans. Today, it is overseen by her daughter, Princess Nadhirah. There is an almost mystical atmosphere in the workshop. The intense silence is broken only by the click-clack wooden shuttle working back and forth across the loom by Malay lady weavers who are demurely covered in batik headscarves. Their weaves are incredibly complex – which is why making songket proceeds at just two inches a day – but the finished articles are spectacular. Shahnaz Zakaria, manager of the atelier, explains: “Our aim here is not just to preserve our cultural heritage, but also to place the power of opportunity into the hands of our weavers. “That opportunity provides both regular income and the chance to take an active role in the shaping of their future by making the transformation from informal cottage industry to trading for international commerce.” The scene is very different when we arrive in the tiny village of Kampung Losong, where a tumbledown workshop is devoted to Malaysia’s other famed textile, batik. It feels a bit like stepping into a Victorian sweat shop, as the temperature reaches almost 50°C. Flames leap up from charcoal braziers heating cauldrons of boiling water for dyeing and around a dozen craftsmen rhythmically dip their handmade metal ‘chops’ into tubs of bubbling wax to stamp intricate patterns and designs on the dyed cloth. This is no big business enterprise as the fabrics go straight for sale at stalls in Kuala Terengganu’s central market, but I cannot resist buying a sarong right here where I can see exactly who made it. And at the very reasonable price of 25 ringgit ($6). From here we visit a master <a href="https://www.thenationalnews.com/mena/2022/07/16/blacksmith-recycles-scrap-metal-into-furniture-and-miniature-models-in-pictures/" target="_blank">blacksmith</a> who forges distinctive kris daggers and sports a wavy blade inscribed with mysterious patterns. It is sheathed in an intricately wooden and silver hilt, a precious heirloom for Malays that can have both spiritual and supernatural powers. Future transmission of this rare expertise is assured as the craftsman has an enthusiastic young apprentice called Hakimi bin Awang. “I wanted to learn a skill that would let me work artistically while earning a living,” he says. “As soon as I started learning here, it was if the spirit of kris-making had entered my soul.” The day finishes at Kuala Terengganu’s sprawling museum and cultural village, where a 136-year-old wooden royal palace – the Istana Tengku Nik – sits in the grounds. Inside, I am surprised to see a familiar face, one of the award winners of the Golden Threads, Azwarin bin Ahmed, who is demonstrating the meticulous art of Telepuk, delicate hand-stamped gold leaf embellishment on silk fabrics. “This is the perfect job for me,” he says. “I can explain my art to both local visitors and tourists, while creating my own designs using telepuk. I carve my own wooden motifs for the design – always graphic or flora as depictions of fauna are not permissible for Muslims.” Unlike the batik cloth sold in the local market, Azwarin’s creations are made to order and can cost up to 10,000 ringgit. Fortunately in Malaysia, thanks to the work of the Hasanah Foundation and others, there is an appreciation for these heritage <a href="https://www.thenationalnews.com/opinion/comment/2024/05/14/emirati-craftsmanship-has-plenty-to-do-with-arab-cultural-authenticity/" target="_blank">textile crafts </a>and timeless traditions. And a ready market of buyers, no matter the cost.