Last day Borneo, Abdul Rahmen National Park
Route down (or up in dark) Mt Kinabalu
Starting descent
Sunrise at summit, Mt Kinabalu
Forest path up Kinabalu, 2500m ish
View from Mountain hut, overnight stop 3200m
Pitcher plant on mountain, grows well on the not so fertile mountain soil, as it feeds on insects
Porters legs, carrying food etc to the restaurant. Paid about 3.5 Ringgit a kilo, (about 80 euro cents), this guy looks like he earns alot! Takes him about 1.5 hrs to get to the base camp.
View from hotel, morning before climb.
Evening view, clouds suddenly clearing
Canopy walk view, Rain forest near Sepilok centre
Jungle kingfisher, not wanting to fly away at night
Orang-utan, snacking
Creepie Crawlies on the jungle walk
Dawn river view, Kinabatagan River, Borneo
Palm oil plantations, they go all the way back..
Preparation fish restaurant, KK
Mammoth carps, (or something similar), fish restaurant KK
Dragonfly, orchid gardens, KL
Our kayak on secluded beach, Pulau Pangkor
Sunset at Pulau Pangkor, Christmas Eve
Christmas eve evening glow
Boy on rock, sunset, Pulau Pangkor
Rainstorm, Pangkor
KL tower, and petronas towers (just)
Apocalyptic sunset view of KL from KL tower
KL old and new
Drifting down the river, out of Taman negara, towards KL
jungle view from hostel room, Taman Negara
Leona and massive ancient tree, Taman Negara
Flooded (floating) river restaurants
Mossy forest, Cameron Highlands
Boh Tea Plantations, Cameron Highlands
Cuddling a Rafflesia in the jungle, Cameron Highlands
4x4 jeep track, to get to the flower
Canna's and Tea plantation
Lunch break for the Tea pickers, (or cutters)
Tea and scones old chap!
Bustling Georgtown eatery, Penang
Phone booths, Georgetown
Leona about to get the hair done at a fancy hairdressers in Georgetown
Hello everyone!
Warning!
Very long. Get some tea, snacks, beers, whatever, you may need it.
Proof read a little, sorry about any confusing or long winded bits.
Well Christmas has flown by, and im still stuck on an island somewhere back in December, re read this just now, writing on another island now in January, re read this just now, in Australia, thank god just finished!
Actually, there was not much more from Thailand to report, the last few days were spent on Koh Lanta, at the same couple of beaches, snorkeling and getting sun-burnt and general lazing and grazing, and also avoiding snakes (well one), bats (sleeping), and elephants (no not wild, they were just someones pets or something) and a short trek along a small river trail leading to a much hyped waterfall, which ended up being more of a damp squib than anything remotely gushing. I guess it has to rain a little in Thailand before that happens.
The last day in Thailand did involve some bodily movement, basically to and from minibuses, two short ferry crossings and 3 minibus changes through drab, smallish Thai towns, which became all quite tedious after the third change. But that's what you get when you want to go to these Islands. The destination was Pulau Penang (or Georgetown, or Butterworh, the 3 names seem to be inter-changable, colonial influence I guess), but to cut to the chase, they're all in Malaysia, reasonably close to the Thai border.
So after paying our fine, (one day overstaying in Thailand), getting the mandatory 10 ratan cane lashes (which the border guard seemed to want to do himself, judging by his bulging eye movements, whilst painfully, brutally stamping our passports), we doubled checked our luggage for narcotics (whoops death sentence for that in Malaysia).
We entered and drove down the miraculously new and improved double lane highway. Not that the roads in southern Thailand were bad, but these roads seemed to pay homage to a State income and investment level, much higher than that of Thailands. But of course there is alot of Oil and other natural resources to exploit in Malaysia, and alot of the Malaysian people weve met on the way, in China and in other countries, were linked in some way to these 'businesses'.
The first stop, was, as mentioned, was Georgetown, and was surprisingly massive. The old town, where we we going to stay was what we expected, but as we arrived, and on the way into the old-town, it was something else, unexpected, new and big, the new Georgetown, slowly burying the small, quaint, hinting colonial past old Georgetown, slowing rotting underneath an increasingly Malaysian identity. Anyway, that seemed to have happened about the time Malaysia became independent, in the late 50's, no sign of anything colonial on the way in, just loud, proud, brash colours and cars, typical of any affluent major asian city. Although of course not so big, only a couple of million here I'd guess. The city itself is on an island, but as we arrived at night, it didn't seem so, as we drove across a massive 4 lane mega-bridge to the old city.
But then, finally arriving, it was a little like stepping back in time, but with a modern spice. Cute old Chinese trading shop facades, archaic guttering/flood systems, and crumbling buildings incorporating 3 cultures with their distinctive aromas and music pounding from small shops cluttered with whatever was the days rave, welcomed us to what was the start of our Malaysian episode. Interestingly, the 3 cultures, being Malay, Indian and Chinese, and some other ex-pats thrown in for good measure, have lived together in relative harmony (since the 1965(ish) riots), and all are pretty relaxed religiously, and accept the others religions, albeit sometimes grudgingly, and in general the 3 cultures mix amiably, but also remain proudly separate.
Ingredients I guess for a great variety and fusion of food, politics, culture and whatever else brings the three majorities together.
I guess for us the major thing we noticed was the food, not wanting to get too complicated of course, but the Indian food here was second to none, (after India of course!), then there was the traditional Chinese and Malay food. So although being in Malaysia, Georgetown (and most major Malay towns for that matter), had distinct districts for each culture. So of course the variety in major towns was massive, it only started to get dull in the countryside (as is often the case), where meals tended to be 'homely' at best.
Being our first stopping point it was of course a chance to try the dishes that were renowned here, and Penang (the island where Georgetown is), has a couple. A special Laksa, a soupy fish concoction, very delicious, and something called Rojak. A strange fruit salad, with a palm sugar sauce, with a slight chocolatety flavour, peanuts and of course bits of squid. Why didn't I think of that? It was weird. One bite fruit, one bite squid- odd combo, made weirder by the fact that I didn't realise there was squid in there- it was a surprise initially!
The next day we headed for the Cameron Highlands, an area in the mountains with a reputation for its jungles and tea plantations. Well jungle is of course relative in Malaysia, as over 70% of it has been destroyed, so the only chance to see prime, primary jungle, is in small pockets of national 'jungle' parks, like in the Cameron Highlands. Although 'small' pockets is a little unfair, (some parks I think are about 4000 square kms, or more), in comparison to what used to be here, they are really small pockets.
We arrived in Tanah Rata, the base for excursions into the Highlands after a 5 hr bus ride, through an amazing landscape, amazing mainly in its man-made madness. The road led firstly through humongous marble quarries, matching anything for size we'd seen in China (and there, in parts, they'd leveled almost whole mountains..) More madness included, for instance, the highway that carved and snaked its way through a mountain range, where in some places the amount of earth, trees and rock removed hardly seemed to be able justify the two lane road leading us into the country. Seriously; 200 x 400 metre slightly sloping, near-vertical drops of earthworks in order to allow for 20 meters width of road. And that was over a 30km section of road, at least. The next man-made disaster was the vegetable growers 'patch'. After making the initial rise, the mountain plateaued out a little, and that's were the plastic started. A little like on the coast in the south of Spain, rows upon rows of plastic sun shields/ evaporation catching 'greenhouses' stretched for miles into the distance.
So where massive trees measuring 10-15 metres in diameter (until as little as 15 years ago), stood, now stands rows of potted strawberries (which taste like watermelons), aubergines and who knows what else vegemalia.
Malaysian tourists however, we were told, don't worry so much about that, and come in high season in their droves, from as far away as Kuala Lumpur (a 8 hr drive I think) to taste the 'delights' on offer here. An amazing waste, but the veggies gotta grow somewhere.
Anyway, managing to avert my eyes from the shining sheets (Dominion Rd reference there DAD..) we arrived in Tanah Rata. We stayed in a really well run hostel, formally some sort of traditional English boarding school, complete with the old toilets. It was really nice, and from there we could watch the thunderstorms and mist roll in. Being the rainy season (which kind of comes and goes it seems in the mountains), the air was heavy with moisture, but vibrant in atmosphere and colour.
The first day we went on a long hike, initially through jungle, then twisting roads, up towards one of the oldest tea plantations of the region, Boh Tea.
The jungle in the nearby area still remains in part of the landscape around the Highlands, and several well marked, 'paths' lead through it for varying destinations. The trek we chose led through thick, fern-rich vegetation, heading basically down a hill meeting up again with a connecting road, which led back up the other side of the valley to the tea plantation.
In the jungle I was 'lucky' enough to spot a relatively rare (for its size) krait snake. Later I found out it is extremely dangerous, many times more venomous than a cobra, so I was glad, that I had a quick look at 3 metres, as apposed to a long look with it's fangs in my hand. So after a long humid trudge down through the jungle it was a long, sweaty trudge up to the tea-rooms (the carrot dangling before our noses of course), for a afternoon tea with scones- all very frightfully English of course, with an Asian touch.
But the scenery as we wound our way up the hill was magnificent, and as tea grows best only over 1500metres or so, the air was clean and clear, and the rain-season clouds gloomily, spectacularly threatening in the distance. The tea was delicious, and the view was great, we could spent the whole day there, but unfortunately what goes up must come down, and my poor old knees were feeling the 8 or so kms down the downward spiraling paved road, every step. But no problem, as soon as we reached the junction we hitched a ride (as by know we were quite far from base-camp), back with a jovial and talkative jack-of-all-trades who managed to entertain us on the road back.
By now (thank god we were in the car), the clouds had really opened up and we experienced what was to be one of our many, 'tropical downpours'. Rather heavy. Relatively short, but very sharp, these rain-bombs come quickly, but with normally enough warning that one can grab a banana leaf or something, because otherwise you may as well swim home. The size of the drops seem to be golf-ball size, and sound like it as well, while visibility suddenly narrows to 10 metres or so. Pretty impressive, and combined with the fact that after 15 minutes of that its sunny and 30 degrees again, you don't wonder why plants grow so well here.
The next day we headed of on a jeep tour, as most things of interest cant be seem alone, unless your a jungle-man and can survive for weeks on end on roots. Which I'd give a go of course, but we opted for the Jeep.
It was an old (well used perhaps a better term) English Land-Rover, which our driver/herpetologist/plant/local peoples expert proudly told us took part in the world record event of 'the most Land-Rovers gathered at one spot at the same time' record (over 4000 I think). Malaysians it turns out are fanatic Guiness book of Records readers, and will do anything to be in it, hence this rather bizarre record. It also turns out the Cameron Highlands has the highest density of Land-Rovers in the world, outside the English Army Barracks.
Anyway, we would soon find out why there are some many jeeps here, because we were soon careening into the jungle, up a series of seemingly near-vertical tracks, which were no more than a muddy mess, the perfect play area for 4x4 buffs. But our driver was a real expert and navigated his way to our drop-of point, somewhere in a large protected area of jungle, we we then continued on foot to go deeper into the jungle in search of the Rafflesia flower, the worlds largest flower.
Using the local Orang-Asli's (indigenous malayisans), who search in the forest for the buds of the flowers, so they then can lead tourist groups like us too them, we had another slippery slidey trek for about an hour to the flower-site.
Known to the locals for a long time, and later 'discovered' for the Western world by an English expedition in the early 1800's, the flower is massive. It can grow to 1 metre in diameter, and weigh up to 10kgs. Its like a weird flesh eating stinky parasitic sponge of a flower, the colouring nearing something you might see on Grand-ma's veranda, but truely amazing.
The specimen we saw was (only) about 80 cm's across, so just a baby! Evidently (according to our guide), the bud takes up to 5 years to grow, needed exactly the right growing conditions (not too much water, not too little, and the same with sunlight), and is an extremely sensitive plant, which on flowering lasts only one week, before it starts to rot and wither and eventually turn into compost.
After taking the obligatory head-beside-the-flower photos, we slithered back down, slapping mosquitoes away, to the next stage of the trip, off to another tea plantation, for another cuppa, a well deserved one at that! Well, you can never have enough tea, and of course the views, this time from another tea-cafe, were better than the day before.
The fog and rain then started to roll in, which fitted well to the next place of interest in the day, the mossy forest, (it's what they call it here), situated at 2000 metres, the highest point accessible by road in the region, which by then, we were thankful we were able drive up there- (starting to fade, with all that tea and scones!).
But the forest, well, unsurprisingly, was mossy, and very beautiful, calm and serenely wet.
It was interesting as at a certain altitude of course vegetation changes, and on mountains the water absorbing moss cover, which covered rocks, trees, whatever it can cling to, plays a very important role in the earths ecology, in retaining fresh water, and releasing it, helping form rivers, lakes etc. This fact, it seems, has lead to the Malaysian government taking more notice of mountains' importance, and moving to protect them. Not a very common principle in Malaysia, environmental protection, as since the Colonial days (where a very bad example was set), a pretty much smash, grab and get rich principle has been applied to the environment.
Of course when alot of country is still very poor, there is often not any better solutions for the people trying to earn a crust.
Although normally a guided tour is not always so beneficial, here, the whole day Jeep tour was extremely rewarding, and not only did we visit some amazing places, but also because the guide was not only fluent in English, but was passionate, engaging and highly informative, and could answer any of the bizarre questions I'd fling at him (to Leona's eternal embarrassment) which is not always the case. Normally I just get funny looks.
The next day was another day for journey, and I got to get a good look at Malaysia's environmental policy, being mainly 'Jungle destroy, Palm-Oil plantations make!'. Quite sad, but well, I guess most of the products we buy in the western world these days is made from palm-oil, so we hardly help the matter. But if i don't see another Palm-tree of this variety ever again, I won't be sad. Literally billions of the tings. Acres and kilometres and miles square. We drove yet again for hours through these plantations, almost impressive in their size, but unlike rice fields of the same dimension (which also I guess have been cleared from Jungle at some stage), the monotony of the trees quickly led to book reading.
With rice paddies and fields, there was always something going on in them, animals, people working, varying degrees the growing stages to see, colours, and of course, rice is the very staple of life (for humans) in Asia, it seems life wouldn't function the same without it. So rice plantations (to me) are a necessity for life, and the forest and habitat destruction for them seems to me to have a purpose, whereas, with Palm-oil, Im not so sure, there is surely another solution. I've also recently heard that Korean or Japanese scientists are working closely with the Malaysians to manufacture a kind of petrol from Palm-oil. I guess that doesn't bode well for Rain-forests of the world.
Speaking of Rain-forests, that was of course where we were heading, to Kuala Tuhan, a tiny village, situated on a bloated, muddy, fast flowing river, directly opposite the Taman Negara National Park. The park itself (as the tourism board advertises), is the world's oldest rain-forest, older than the Amazon even, at 135 million years. It's amazing to be privileged enough to be able to set foot in it, that it's still even there. Thankfully, such parks are protected (although I recently heard that in such a park in Indonesia, a law to allow mining inside such a park was passed by government recently, I guess if you can line the governors pants with enough silk, anything goes.). Anyway...
Rain forest of course isn't called that for no reason, and as we were there slightly out of season, well, yes it was damp, but that added to the leech plucking fun of it all! The forest itself and even in its wet state is an extremely beautiful and somehow scary place to be in the middle of; vines, flowers, ferns, rattans, massive wooden trunks supporting towering trees, and the wonderful smell of wet forest, a mix of earthy, damp, bustling and bursting vegetation. Of course as long as you know where you're going and it's not TOO wet, its a wonderful place to be. More my kind of thing than Leona's it must be said, but she bravely followed me into the dingy depths, without complaining, well, that was until the leeches started taking a liking to our blood. Weird creatures, painless, but disgusting, and I was picking them off our feet for half an hour after we emerged, wet as drowned-ships-rats from the forest. Leeches seem to have an uncany ability to work there way under,through and around clothing and shoes, and by having two attachable ends, they kind of wave one end in the air, waiting for something to latch onto with there suprisingly sticky bodies. Something only their mothers could love.
So the next 2 days were basically a wet fun-fair of day and night jungle and river exploration, and as our hostel had no heating or anywhere really to hang our sodden clothes, we had to be a little imaginative where to hang our stuff to dry (inside the mosquito net for instance). So after two days of sweating it out in the humidity of the jungle, the pong from our room was something a stag would've been proud of!
Leaving the stink-room behind we headed off to Kuala Lumpur, first by an interesting boat journey down the river, to another town Tembelling, for a connection with a mini-bus, then to another bus to the capital, where we arrived in the early evening. I guess you could say it was pretty much the complete opposite of where we had been- from a water-logged township of barely 1000 people, to another mega-modern, rough around the edges, business centre of KL. Altough grandly displaying Malayisa's wealth with buildings like the Petronas Towers, the city has still all the crumbling corner-shops, car over-loaded road systems and general chaotic living typical and exciting of the tropics (and it has a fancy monorail).
Drier and about 10 degrees warmer, we soon dried ourselves out, and set off in direction of the KL tower, for a sunset view over the city, and the Petronas towers. From up there, I think the viewing platform was about 350 metres or so above ground, and we had a great view of the sprawling, jumbled city.
Unfortunately, we ended up having to stay here a little longer as planned, as Leona's passport, amongst other things was stolen the next day. Apart from the free Internet at the tourism office, there was not too much to cheer about the next couple of days as we re-organised, re-shuffled and re-ordered and cancelled various bits and pieces. A couple of trips to the embassy, and the police station later, we had nothing to do except decide where to stay over the Christmas period, (it all happened on the 22rd of December), that wasn't KL, and still in Malaysia.
As it is the rainy season during these months, the only coast really to choose from was the west coast, and a little island group called Pulau Pangkor. As the east coast contains most of the more 'scenic' and beautiful beaches, we were a little disapointed at our bad luck in timing with the seasons, as the east coast would have been the first choice. Nether-the-less, we made the 5hr bus ride north of Kuala Lumpur to Pulau Pangkor.
The weather turned out to be scorching when we got off the bus, what was of course a good sign, and considering the amount of wet we'd already had, we took it as one. The west coast during rainy season, we were told doesn't experience so much rain as the other side, and we were taking a little bit of chance in terms of finding decent, cheap accomadation, on such short notice, as we later found out, as after a short ferry ride, the island was teeming with Malaysian tourists. It was to be quite an unusual Christmas period, no Santa's, no Christmas decorations, and instead sunshine, beaches and snorkeling. It turned out to be a great alternative to where we should of been (somewhere in Borneo), and was a really great cultural experience to share the beaches with the huge amount of happy, boisterous families, grandmas to infants, all enjoying which turns out to be their school holidays, and the fact that Christmas fell on a weekend this year, it was especially busy. We were lucky enough after asking around a little to get a room for one night, almost directly on the beach front, albeit a little pricey, but hey, it's Christmas. After the nightmare past 3 days, running around humid Kuala Lumpur, getting hotter, more agitated and despondent by the minute from the endless waiting and organising, the 'treating ourselves' theme became a re-ucurring one..
And then the rains came..I think the heaviest of the trip so far. 15 minute bursts of pure cataclysmic water. It was loud, roof-rattling, and would've done Victoria Falls proud! Although longer than normal, with short deceiving breaks in between, we sat put, put the feet up and waited for an hour or so until God was done, and then went our merry way, back into the emerging sunshine. Another bout almost caught us unawares on Christmas day, when an almost equally apocalyptic downpour interrupted our breakfast. Thankfully, unlike in other countries, the rain came and went quickly, and sunshine as normal returned, and we were able to head back to our books on the beach, our whatever the strenuous activity at the time may have been.
Christmas Eve and Christmas day, were perfect, apart for these small, wet interludes. The passing cloud cover led to some amazingly colourful sunsets in the evenings however, and we managed to find an amazing little, tables in the sand cafe/restaurant, that served even wine. Although Malaysian Muslims are relaxed when it comes to drinking (the fact that one can buy it almost everywhere), finding decent white wine (at our budget) in Asia is like finding a white rhino.
But we found the vingear-eske bottle went down rather well after a couple of tentative sips, the food was top notch, and we ended Christmas Eve with another bottle (it was Christmas after all), lounging back listening to the soft lap of waves on the seashore. That was of course the European Christmas, the next day we 'had' to get up again and do it all again for the Anglican Christmas! This time round consisting of Malaysian food, an ultra cheap but ultra delicious BBQ, in the midst of a clanging, smokey open air seaside joint, alive, vibrant colourful and a world away from anything Christmasy (apart from people in jolly spirits of course!).
We ended spending a good 4 days there, hiring motorbikes, kayaks, discovering the island, exploring lesser visited beaches, local townships and markets (a lot of reaaaally stinky dried fish, sacks and sacks of the stuff), finding deadly snakes (Leona almost walked into what I thought was a viper hanging out in a tree (my snake knowledge thanks to Wikipedia has improved..), horn-bills (Toucan like birds), macaques, mammoth monitor lizards and a strangely large amount of wildlife, given the development and amount of tourism on the island.
With our enforced 'detour' out of the way, it was back to Kuala Lumpur, to pick up the Passport, and hopefully finally get out of there. The city had loads to offer, loads to see, but once you have one bad experience somewhere, I guess it becomes like a sour slice of lemon. A bit nasty bitting into the pips. The good news was the Passport was ready and everything went smoothly. The bad news was, as we had no arrival stamp, we weren't sure how we were able to 'legally' exit the country. As we were leaving to Borneo the next day (which handles itself immigration-wise, like another country), we thought we'd better ask. Sure enough, we had to go to the Immigration Office the next day, to get a special 'chop' (official jargon for a stamp), to be allowed to travel anywhere. Well, thats when the bad news hit the fan.
No-one likes an immigration office, I've had my share of them in Berlin, but here was something else. Situated in the completely new (started in the mid 90's), government-town called Putrajaya, we winged it out there in a taxi to get the chop. Luckily, as the city is designed to house the entire seat of the Malaysian government, everything was new, the road was large, and the streets were mainly empty, so we got there in a hour, but time was of the essence, as we were to fly out at 9 that evening, and had to be at the airport at 7. The main reason, in fact that the governmental seat moved, was due to the congestion problems in KL, and the fact that they didn't have anything grandiose enough to sit around and fart in yet. The city was (it turns out) amazingly grandiose, with more to come, blocks and blocks of bureaucracy, towering Mosques, bridges, carparks, and of course, the Immigration colossus. Packed mainly with unfortunate Bangladeshi's, Pakistani's, Indonesians and anyone else trying to make a 'good' wage in Malaysias expanding economy, we literally forced our way to where-ever we had to go, which ended up being several counters. Thankfully, most Malay's can speak a little, to very good English, so we were able to make oursleves, and our situation understood. Little by little we worked our way through the waiting times and lines, until, just before close, and just before we ripped our toe-nails off, the Passport came back from an eternally plodding guy, whose job it seemed was to make people anxious by plodding around with a fat fist full of foreign passports stuffed in his sweaty, hairy palm. On more than one occasion I watched him drop photos, forms and who knows what else, my heart skipped more than a few beats. But, after all that, our Taxi driver still waiting patiently outside (with our luggage no less), we achieved the seemingly insurmountably impossible task of conquering Malaysian bureaucracy, without having to slip surreptitiously a hundred Ringgit in the Passport. Our driver, seemingly an expert on Immigration and Visa runs out to the town, filled me in, on the way to the airport on the in and outs of Malaysia politics, law, and a subject which he seemed to have a major in, Malaysian corruption. We arrived, finally at the airport, a little shattered, and a little early.
Without further ado, and a lot more relaxed, we were in Malaysian Borneo. It was a part of the trip that I didn't want to miss, which we otherwise would've, due to the Passport problem, and how many times will we have the chance to go there? So in KL re-arranged another return flight, but timewise basically a little shorter, we were delayed in the end by about a week. So we were behind schedule, but still ok.
We arrived in Kota Kinabalu, where we went about organising the next few days. We then took an evening bus to the Sepilok Urangutan sanctuary, arriving at 2 in the morning. The bus let us off at a the junction, in the middle of apparent no-where, and we eventually found our way via torch-light to our Home-stay. As the bus trip led us through the darkening night, through gradually thicker (what seemed like) jungle, I grew a little aprehensive, as to how it would all work out. I had visions of tigers, snakes monkeys howling gleefully as they tore us limb for limb, after getting of alone in the middle of the night, in the middle of Borneo. A brief respite from the nightmares came as we passed the magnificent Mt. Kinabalu. Although the dead of night, there was a semi-full moon, and the side of this more than 4000 metre mound loomed into view. The gigantic, billowing, pillow-like structure of the gloomily illuminated clouds were accentuated by the hard, dark, craggy slope of the mountain, and sitting, deliriously awaiting jungle-death in my little bus-seat, I was intimidated. And I want to try and climb that?
Sweeping histrionics aside, of course, we arrived, safe and sound, not one bite mark, at 'Uncle- Tans', a homestay well know as a cheap jungle trips specialist. As we were headed for the Jungle, it seemed a good idea to get experts, well, even semi-experts would do, if not for safety, then just for their plant and wildlife knowledge. We arranged a 2 night, 3 day jungle trip, traveling with several others along Borneo's longest river, the Kinabatangan, to a jungle-camp, for various excitements. Being that it was over New Years Eve, it was a fittingly bizarre part of the world to welcome in the New Year.
We headed the next morning, before the trip started, for a viewing at feeding time at Sepilok Urang-utan Sanctuary, where we managed to see two juvenile Urang-utans, and countless other extremely intimidating and hungry Macaques in the pouring rain, a factor which not only dampened our spirits, but kept unfortunately the larger monkeys in the trees. The two 'wild' ones, (although the people at the sanctuary do amazing work to save these fast dying-out monkeys, i'm not so sure how 'wild' they really are), were truely amazing, human like, and although still semi reliant on human interaction, a mesmerising sight, to look into some ancient rain-forest, and see these beautiful animals chewing on some fruit, using a broken off branch of leaves as an umbrella. The rain passed, and we headed off firstly via mini-van (and of course more mega Palm-oil plantations), to the drop off point on the river.
The first experience was a short Jungle-river 'cruise', towards a site where a pack of Probiscus monkey's hang out. Very, very weird monkeys, extremely human looking, with their big noses, and big beer bellies. Not such a surprise then, that the locals nick-named them the Dutch-man, after the colonial Dutch, who had appeared a few centuries earlier.
The Jungle camp was an experience. Set in a swamp-like jungle setting, the six-people-to-a-room stilt huts, were simple (mattress and mosquito net) and damp. Nothing new there, it was still rainy season. Toilets were down the board-walk, (thankfully) another 100 metres away. The Lord-of-the-Flies-like boys who were to be our hosts, welcomed us with random singing and all-round happiness. A real case of cabin fever here it seemed, the isolation of the jungle, combined with lack of any girls, led to a certain small dose of insanity it seemed! It turned out to be a very pleasant stay, with hardly any rain, lots of animals to see and hear, plenty of beer, and a truely bizarre New Years Eve. Happy Birthday New Year was the popular song of the evening, led with much gusto by the 'boys', who had also brought 3 laviously tiered cakes from town into the jungle, which none of the boys ate, using them instead for an almighty food-fight. It was fun though, and a memorable way to see in the New Year.
The 3 days included several boat trips, down the main river, and also other smaller arms of it, at night, dawn, and dusk. Every time period it seems had or has a new animal to spot. The river is seen as one 'corridors of travel' for wildlife in the lowlands of Borneo, as much of the areas near-by the river have already made way for other, more lucrative 'plants'. This means that in this thin section of riverside, an abundance of wildlife still cling, sadly, onto an existence, trying to make life go on from this small space. The river and it's banks, and we saw all of these animals, is home to Crocodiles, Urang-utans, probiscus monkeys, cevit (night cat-like creatures), gibbons, owls, snakes, frogs, insects, countless birds and godknows what else and what they were all called.
We went on jungle walks, night jungle walks, night and day boat trips, and had a great time. The amount of wildlife here is amazing but scarce (no galloping hordes), and the area, although we were there in the wrong season (so we didn't see any), the home for pygmy elephants, and an extremely rare type of rhinoceros.
But the thing that most sticks in my mind is the Urang-utan, sitting quietly on his tree branch, munching fig-like fruit, as we gazed up at it, from the boat. About 20 metres away, it didn't seem too perturbed by us, and went about it's business, while we silently watched it from below. An amazing sight, and to see such a rare animal in the wild in the flesh (some say not more than 10.000 left in the wild, and they'll be extinct in 10-20 years), doing it's thing was spell-bounding.
We left the camp, exhausted, stinking and damp, but somehow elated, and headed back to the relative comfort of 'Uncle-Tans'.
After a rest we headed off to our next destination, Mt.Kinabalu, which I was due to climb, and the evening before I was due to go up, I was cursing my bravado. Leona had opted out of the 2 day, overnight experience (how long it approximately would take me), deciding sanely to enjoy the other, vertically challenged walking tracks and wildlife in and around the national park.
Most of the time Kinabalu's summit is covered in cloud, so I wasn't sure what to expect, until the evening before, when like for a curtain-call, the curtain of clouds spectacularly lifted, and gave us a view, high above, of what I was getting myself into. Thanks. It seemed a bit beyond my current, beer and food induced holiday-mode fitness levels, but whatever, it was now or never.
I got up early the next morning, said my last good-byes to Leona and trudged off in search of a climbing partner, someone to share the cost of the mandatory guide, who would take us to the top. Happily, I found one, unhappily, I attract idiots.
Although nice enough on the first kilometre or so, the slightly older (but in reasonable shape for a 46 year-old) gentleman, (gladly) ran out of breath to talk on the way up, which sadly wasn't the case on the way down, when he seemed to feel as fresh as a daisy, and privaleged me with his pearls of wisdom.
We managed to scale the first 3200 metres in under 4 hours, and as we were one of the first to leave in the morning, we arrived early at our respective huts.
The climb was, I found easy enough, but gradually getting steeper, and for prolonged periods. While the first 3 kms (2000m), had steep stairs and rocky sections, but was also mixed with short flat bits, the trek was relatively pain-less. The next 3 kms, only another 1200m or so, the air was thinner, the climb progressively steeper and with longer, steeper sections. Slugging up there, it was no Sunday stroll, but no Everest either, and I imagine there are harder, much smaller mountains out there to climb. I won't be on it thats for sure! I guess that's why alot of people (I think 40,000 or so) climb the mountain each year, even a Japanese grandma of 89 managed it. There is also an annual race (for money, no-ones that stupid to do it otherwise), up and down the mountain, and the winner, a Mexican I think, made it in just under 3 hours, 4095 metres, up, then back down as well- in under 3 hours..unreal.
So, although dauntingly high, and a sweaty slog, it's no K2 ( Not wanting to diminish my own super-human feats at all of course)! But at the end of the day, not just any-one makes it to the top. My partner for instance. That made me secretly feel better!
By making it to the 3000m hut/campsite, I had just passed the easy part of the trek. Feeling a little odd, because of the altitude I guess, I was able to rest it out on the veranda of the hut, read a book and relax for the next 5 hours, as a trickle of sweating, puffing would-be climbers arrived. The view, and I was thankfully blessed with a view- was sunny, clear, with some clouds and crystal clean air, and of the open, green valley underneath, I could even see where Leona was staying for the night. The savagely hot sun, however- turned me a little crab like, but all in all, the climb up the first 3000m were worth it.
For the rest of the climb, to the summit, the plan is, that you have dinner insanely early at 7 in the evening, and wake up again insanely early at 2.30 in the morning, have what they call 'supper', then go up into the blackness, the next 3 or so km's, or 800m, to the top, in time for sunrise, then roll back down, all the way to the base camp for a gin and tonic. Ok chaps, why not.
Reiterating that not every one gets to the top, my partner was one of those souls. (don't worry he didn't die). For all his arrogant rhetoric and hype, he unfortunately suffers from vertigo, and as soon as we reached the first semi-vertical rope-climb, he had to pull the plug. Our guide took him back to the hut, and I followed the Yellow Brick Road to the Top. It took me just under two hours to get there, which meant a chilly wait at the summit for the sun. After such a sweaty climb, when you stand still, in the icy-cold wind, it wasnt so pleasant, so I had to hide behind a rock and wait while about 120 of us in total gathered on and around the summit.
As the sun slowly rose, and the world opened out, I sort-of understood what might be the 'kick' people get out of climbing. Of course, the physicality of it, the exertion, the pushing your body to its limit, has a certain 'ring' and benefit to it. Ego as well, the - 'I went higher than thou' mentality. But I think it is and really only can be, the view. The clouds, the valleys, the green, the sea, the blue, all awaiting the first touches of blue, then purple, then orange, then red, (or the other way round), from the sun. Then a sudden sort of clarity, as the sun emerges from the horizon and unfolds everything beneath in daylight. Sublime, and cold. I didnt stay long, just took some photos, and (poor our knees), headed down..all the way down.
That took all in all around 4 hrs from top to bottom, where I met Leona, in the cafe, my legs quivering with exertion. My calves and my archilies had seen better days. But of course bulging with pride, Leona, on her knees, swooned at my return, and told me to get her a tea.
Of course, being on a tight schedule, we headed that evening back to Kota Kinabalu (or KK as it is locally known), a short 2 hour bus ride away, as we had to catch our flight the next evening back to Kuala Lumpur, then onwards, out of Malaysia, to Indonesia.
There was one day remaining in Borneo, and I awoke that day to what Germans call (losely translated) to a muscle-hangover. Well, it was, but my legs felt as if they had drunken about 3 litres of home-made Russian vodka. Not good. Thankfully, we had until the evening to relax, before our flight left, and off the coast of KK, where there are several beautiful islands, perfect for snorkeling, relaxing, and that's just what we did. Description not needed, just imagine again (how boring), white sands, crystal clear water, sublime tropical fish, and a few weird jellyfish.
We managed our flight, no problems with the passports, and we were off to Indonesia.
