Durian, known as the 'king of fruits' in south-east Asia has, to put it mildly, a distinctive odour. "Dis-STINK-tive" would be more appropriate, many might say. 

"How can you put something that smells so bad in your mouth?" a non-durian lover once asked me. Well, what about washed rind cheese, I countered?

Durian has some pluses though. It makes up for its ugly look and whiffy aroma with a creamy sweet flesh. In fact once people know the taste-sensation in store, many quickly go from 'ugh! what's that dreadful smell?' to 'durian! where is it?'.

On a recent trip to Penang, Malaysia, as we leave Batu Ferringhi on the north of the island we know what we are craving. Durian. But it's a problem. If we buy one of these huge thorny khaki beauties from a roadside stall the hotel will never let us inside with it. If we eat it in the rental car, the company will have a fit.

Around the north-western tip of this lovely island, often called the Pearl of the Orient, the jungle is tangled with creepers, denser than on the eastern hugely-developed side. Here, nets hang hammock-like beneath giant jackfruit and durian trees to catch the heavy fruit, and somewhere in the shadows grow nutmeg and clove trees.

We drive on, past crude wooden roadside stalls sheltering mounds of this football-sized fruit and are finally rewarded with the answer to our craving.

The 10 hectare Tropical Fruit Farm at 250 metres altitude, overlooks deep jungled valleys that disappear kilometres away into a glimpse of water and the haze of Georgetown, the capital, on the east coast. It should be called Eden because almost every known tropical fruit grows here.

In the farm shop we discover dried and fresh fruits, bunches of rambutans and mangosteens, pineapples and tiny bananas in crates and there is a whole stand of local nutmeg oils and balm. In a chilled cabinet, spotted and weirdly coloured Vietnamese dragonfruit and other fresh fruits are laid out ready to combine on fruit platters. A spiky mound of durian lies on the floor to one side, and instantly we know what we will be ordering. The durian season runs from the end of February to August. It's April, so we are in luck.

But first, the tour, we decide. Led by farm's horticulturalist, Sukar, we are taken on a lengthy stroll through the plantation which grows a staggering 250 tropical fruit species. There are 40 varieties of rambutan alone. It's like a living fruit museum.

"And the number is growing," he tells, straight-faced. We can see why - everything seems to grow here.

The idea of a museum is not as strange as it appears. Later, when we meet with Farm Manager, Mr Khoo, he explains the objectives. "When the farm was developed in 1993 the plan was to conserve rare and exotic fruit trees and to educate people about the gift that our land is blessed with."

Our group samples a fruit with the flavour of rose syrup, a bean from South America that tastes like ice cream, and others so sour they cause us to shudder. However, after eating the red lozenge-shaped miracle fruit, we can revisit these and they taste sweet. A miracle, indeed. 

Sukar points out dozens of fruits we never knew existed as well as the more familiar breadfruit, mangosteen, custard apples, jambu, bright red dragon fruit on their cactus-like bushes - and, of course, durian.

"They smell like hell, but taste like heaven," Sukar says, adding that durian's name has nothing to do with either. "It just means thorny fruit."

The Tropical Fruit Farm is proud that it is totally self-sufficient, a leader in agri-business in Malaysia. It is almost totally organic and few chemicals are used; grey water returns to the ground, while fruit skins are recycled as compost.

"It's an example of what can be done," says Mr Khoo. He's a humble man, but obviously proud of the contribution the farm is making.

Back at the shop, assistants select a top-grade durian for under A$5 and chop it open to reveal smooth yellow segments. The rest they can leave to us. Seated outside at shaded picnic tables we pick out the creamy flesh, eating with our fingers overlooking that magnificent view and dropping the seeds into a basket below the table. Bliss! 

Time, then, to select other fruits from a display inside. A blend of yellow watermelon, abiu, jambu, nutmeg and pineapple arrives as tall chilled glasses of sublime freshly-squeezed juice, the ideal finale to our durian feast.

Penang's food is known and publicised around the world. Yet on that trip our strongest (in more ways than one!) food memory is of this ambitious project with its forever view, sticky fingers, and the lingering aroma of this most pungent king of fruits.

(Sally Hammond)

FACTFILE:

Singapore Airlines flies to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, via Singapore, 24 times a week, and several times a day from Kuala Lumpur to Penang.

Stay at Holiday Inn Resort Batu Ferringhi, www.holidayinn.com.

Book Online or Call: 1800 669 562. The Tropical Fruit Farm is about a twenty-minute taxi ride from the resort.

Singapore Airlines flies to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, via Singapore, 24 times a week, and several times a day from Kuala Lumpur to Penang.

Stay at Holiday Inn Resort Batu Ferringhi, www.holidayinn.com.

Book Online or Call: 1800 669 562. The Tropical Fruit Farm is about a twenty-minute taxi ride from the resort.

Tropical Fruit Farm, Batu 18, Jalan Teluk Bahang, Penang, Tel: +604 227 6223, This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it   Last farm tour 5pm.