Don’t worry, folks. the lizards won’t attack you unless they’re enticed.” Bernd Goodtink is a comical guide with mischievous eyes and an impish grin. From the bow of our Panama-style cruiser he gives us a running commentary on the surrounding sights. The aforementioned warning refers to the very large reptiles that slither on the nearby banks — and, supposedly, swarm the waters around us.

“He’s just kidding, right?” one passenger whispers skeptically to another. “These reptiles aren’t really Komodo dragons with deadly bites, are they?”

It’s difficult to tell. Thicker than sludge, the grimy river bisects this ancient Malaysian city. If these lizards really were the world’s largest breed with expandable jaws and razor-sharp teeth, we wouldn’t know until it was too late.

I drift along this muddy tributary that divides Melaka. Bordering the byway are jerry-built shanties that swagger like tired tin men. Their tarnished roofs are sheets of corrugated aluminum, and dilapidated frames are supported by toothpick-thin stilts. Some have been long-since abandoned and wait for a much-needed face-lift. Others, hosting lines of airing laundry, are clearly still occupied. Smiling women and wide-eyed children gaze inquisitively from their humble homesteads as we float on by. And beneath their sunny stoops are more of these scaly lizards.

For four decades Goodtink has provided tours and has integrated his sense of humor (we’re hoping) with Melaka’s history. We discover that this intriguing city was founded back in the late 1300s when a prince named Parameswara saw a mouse-deer kick one of his hunting dogs. He was so impressed by this animal’s courage that he decided to establish a city on that spot, naming it after a nearby melaka tree. Due to Parameswara’s prestigious position, within 50 years this second-largest Malaysian city-state became a powerful hub of international commerce. I reckon the prosperity may have also had something to do with its location, being perfectly centered along the strait that links China to India and the Near East.

While trolling beneath stone bridges and past the weathered “shohouses,” Goodtink lets us in on the current plans. Soon this entire riverbank will be transformed into a historical rendition of the 1700s. Authentic materials, like century-old bricks, have been imported for construction. These primitive huts will miraculously be replaced by Mediterranean-style abodes, and gallant gondoliers will paddle past the historical attractions.

“It’ll be like our own little Venice,” Goodtink enthuses. As we ply the perilous waters, I imagine packing my hip waders the next time I head to Italy.

Although it’s easy enough to investigate Melaka’s many historical sites on foot, I had literally wheeled by them earlier in the day, thanks to Aman and his healthy quads. The pedaled trishaw looked more like a shrine, and if its flowery décor didn’t draw the attention of every passerby, the golden oldies that blared out from the vehicle certainly did.

We breezed through the town square where well-preserved structures are reminders of the golden past. Period pieces such as The Stadthuys, initially erected in 1650 as the residence of the Dutch and deputy governors, stand as proudly as they did when first built. Its adjacent neighbor, Christ Church, established a century later, still boasts original handmade pews and a tiled depiction of the Last Supper. And A’ Famosa, a fortress built by the Portuguese in the early 1500s, is the granddaddy hallmark of them all. Although the structure sustained severe damage during the Dutch invasion, in 1808 a gent by the name of Sir Stamford Raffles saved the historic remains that may still be visited today.

Beyond the Old Dutch Town Square lies a bridge that directs us into Melaka’s Chinatown. S hop houses link up along pencil-thin roadways. Dazzling silks, songkets (fabric for weddings), brassware and rattan spill from their interiors. Taking time out from my tricycle tour, I checked out a few treasures. Beneath swaying lanterns and decorative dragons, I gawked over everything from antique gems to souvenir schlock.

Further up the block sits a mausoleum and the once-stately home of Hang Kasturi. This knight served Melaka’s sultan and was renowned for his expertise in silat, a form of Malay martial arts. From the looks of this place, he clearly got whatever he wanted!

Tokong, aka the Street of Harmony, presents a line-up of houses of worship sure to keep one on the straight and narrow — unless you’re weaving around in a trishaw. Among them is Cheng Hoon Teng, the oldest Chinese temple in Malaysia. Beneath its pagoda-shaped roof of vibrant hues, the intricately carved shrine glows with small lights and red lanterns. Recently restored, the temple has exemplified Chinese culture since its dedication in 1801.

Kampung Kling Mosque lies just footsteps (or pedal pushes) beyond. This timber post-and-beam beauty, built in 1748, boasts a triple-tiered ridge supported by four sturdy columns.

Last but not least is the Sri Poyyatha Vinayagar Moorthi Temple. Constructed in 1781, this sanctuary was the first Hindu temple in the country. The central altar houses an icon carved out of black stone. It was dedicated to Lord Vinayagar, a deity who had four hands and an elephant’s head. He also reputedly had the power to take on human form.

Back in the present on my river tour with Goodtink, I’m praying that these lizards don’t have this same talent. “Coming up on your right, ladies and gentleman, is Jennifer Lopez, and basking on the left bank is Madonna and Sean Penn.” It’s all part of his act; all just for fun. And though I’d love nothing more than to gaze into the eyes of Antonio Banderas, I look straight ahead and keep both hands safely tucked inside the boat.