Tramping tales from Penang - August 2017

 Our flight from Borneo brought us into Kuala Lumpur for a night in the Airport Hotel Sama Sama, as we arrived back too late, to make a connecting flight to Perth.  We had stayed in this hotel on a previous occasion and found it suited us perfectly. Either, we have aged or the hotel had undertaken refurbishment! When it came to bedtime and switching off the main lights – we could not do that! Perhaps the jungle had addled our brains as we searched long and hard for a switch, to no avail. Short of a domestic blow-out, George called the front desk expecting them to just tell us. No! they would send someone up which made us feel more sheepish.  It transpired that next to our bed was a small lap-top looking thing. It had a plan of the room lights enabling one to do it remotely. The square on the wall was a touch screen! All too hard for our tired brains to cope with a most technically up to date, hotel room. Next morning,  we had further choices, choices, choices! A bountiful breakfast almost overwhelmed us after the sheer simplicity of Jungle breakfasts.

When the notification for payment of our International flights had arrived from Dial-A-Flight, Dan who was generously picking up the tab, noticed our man Bailey had kindly noted that if we returned to Perth on the 24^th or 28^th of August we would save 600 pounds. As we could not fly on the first date we had planned to return on 25^th. Although Dan would have saved the money, he persuaded us to fly on the 28^th and go to Penang. We DID!  Dan still saved money and we spent a little more…  The fact that Justine and Daniel had gone to Penang persuaded us.  It was a short flight away and it conveniently left at a good time after breakfast. All we had to do was walk out of the hotel to our departure gate. Easy!

Map of Penang

We had used Hotel Booking.com after a long search through different internet companies finding hotels in our price range that seemed central to Old George Town and finally come up with Glow Hotel as our best bet as they had airport pick up. Our hefty luggage prevented us from using the bus service. Glow’s quick response to our emails eased any anxiety and they always ended with ‘Have a Glowing Day’! At Penang airport, Ravi was waiting for us with a sign! Born and brought up in Penang, he was enthusiastic about his country pointing out places of interest on the ride to our hotel and full of snippets to where best to go and what to do. Turned out he wasn’t part of the hotel but a company used by Glow to collect their guests. Reception was quick, friendly and incredibly helpful as they got us on our way to our room on the 8^th floor.

 View from our bedroom

As soon as our luggage was in the room, we took off in the direction of our window view to ‘pound pavement’, find our bearings and explore. There wasn’t much to the pavements. Thanks to cars and motor bikes taking up space on broken sidewalks we found ourselves weaving in and out of all the obstructions to the noise of motorbikes haring en-mass up the roads. Stalls selling durian fruit were plentiful and further added to the congestion of sidewalks.  Tables were even available for serious fans of this King of Fruits and, judging by the busy trade going on, durian was in peak season.

Thankfully traffic lights had timers, giving drivers and pedestrians an indication of the next crossover exchange. This alleviated Lea’s nervous disorders when it came to traffic flow.  Eventually the humidity and street noise drove us into the Pragin Shopping Mall where we wandered from floor to floor until we reached the top of an escalator that brought us into an open reception area with no more shops. Somewhat bemused, we were about to return the way we’d come when a woman approached and told us we had reached the ‘House of Music’ – a History of the Penang music scene. She offered to have someone one come and explain the basics. We didn’t have the heart to say ‘no thanks’ and leave. Instead, we paid our money, were directed behind a curtain and shortly after a young man arrived and with the help of posters told us how the fusion music of Penang had resulted from its multicultural people. Before we knew, we were caught up in a well laid out and documented history with ear-phones to listen to music examples gaining a thorough understanding. Personalities came to the fore and the LP library was extensive with a variety of record players across the eras. We were rapt! A young girl took over and her enthusiasm was infectious. Turned out she was a classical guitarist completing a six-month work experience to gain confidence from public speaking and use her English. She was lovely especially when she took us into a music studio and began recording an interview with us.  We gained much from this unexpected find and hours were spent in there.

   House of Music

We returned to the streets and immediately felt the onslaught of heat and humidity as we kept walking with the sights, sounds and smells of busy streets assailing our every sense. Looked over Times Square with an eye to dinner. This was a very modern and incredibly spacious shopping centre with a huge promotion for China taking up pedestrian/corridor floor space, all beautifully done. We could have been in China! With our legs aching we looked for the tall Government building Ravi had wisely pointed out to us as a good landmark to finding ‘home’ and like homing pigeon made for that. However, hunger and thirst was catching up with us, and, we were certainly not brave enough to eat ‘street food’ despite long looks at what was on offer. Restaurants all looked closed up at that early hour. Once we had collapsed on our bed any thought of returning to the street was out of the question. George popped down to reception and discovered the hotel only served lunch and cakes in the café. He grabbed a ‘special’ pack of Tigers and we stayed in the comfort of our room and ate the rest of our pad-kos (road food) - brazil nuts washed down with cold beer. Not the best ending to our day – tomorrow will be better!

We’d consciously hear the call to Prayer by the muezzin for Fajr (early morning), Maghrib (sunset) and Isha’a (night) and we found ourselves listening to the unusually deep baritone voice sweeping across the area.  Despite the early hour of Saturday’s melodious call we rolled over and slept until 9. Reception helped us locate Old Town on a map and called the far cheaper ‘Grab’ car rather than a taxi for us. Grab is a Uber equivalent and again, like Uber, the driver was very helpful and the trip easy and economical. He dropped us in Armenian Street, the heart of the UNESCO World Heritage site. First up, we had to EAT!

My Armenian Café caught our eye, obviously new and different in that the walls were covered in packing crates which put Lea in mind of one of her favourite Lift the flap children’s book ‘Dear Zoo’ by Rod Campbell.  Turned out the inspiration came from the film ‘Madagascar’ and we admired the animals. We came in for breakfast and ended up enjoying a massive sugar hit of delicious salted caramel and chocolate cheesecake with our tea/coffee, instead. 

Armenian Street

Rejuvenated, we happily wandered the streets noticing the variety of shutters in all sizes and stages of decomposition and weathering on buildings. This weathering added something to the atmosphere of the area; it did not detract from being heritage listed.

Intricate tile work outside colonial era shophouses, narrow walkways and alleys. 

Little shops chose to feature a creature. Here, all things owls … another all things cats.

George was waylaid by an old man with his trishaw while he loitered outside a shop Lea was in, offering   to take him round the street art, for which Georgetown is famous for.

Neither of us could turn him down despite our qualms re his age and our joint weight! We were in for the ride of our life and the best spent money- we didn’t even haggle such was our respect for this fine old chap.

At the first mural, having no expectations, we politely sat and quietly admired it until he insisted we jump out and interact with a ‘Boy on a chair’ and take a better photo, then indicated others in the area. No sooner back in our trishaw than the clouds opened and down came the rain. Undaunted our chauffeur, leapt down from behind us; pulled out a canopy ensuring we remained dry! We had no brolly or wet gear thus we couldn’t have been luckier to be on the trishaw at that moment in time.  Once, we left the quiet street and entered the hustle and bustle of many lanes of traffic and weaving motor cyclists - the horror of putting our lives in the old man’s hands amid wet roads overwhelmed us both. Just as well, the canopy kept us oblivious of a good deal as our vulnerability, when cars stopped a hair’s breath from our knees, set our hearts beating wildly. In hindsight, drivers were most considerate and aware really. 

          

It is hard to do justice to the Street Art hidden away in many odd spots or side streets and unexpected corners and walls.  We’d never have experienced the richness of it all, if we’d gone looking on our own.

Lithuanian artist Ernest Zacharevic, has the most photographed 

and delightfully playful murals in George Town. 

He was invited to Penang over the George Town Festival in 2012 and given the theme ‘Mirrors George Town’ which to our mind, was wide open and difficult. This young artist produced exuberant and humorous children scenes, to the streets. Once seen, never forgotten for their joi de vivre.

Other artists were invited to add cat themed art to the streets in the hopes 

of creating more awareness to homeless strays. These are just a few!

Years later the city council commissioned steel rod caricatures of 

Penang’s ‘Way of Life’   from a local company ‘Sculpture at Work’.

Way back, in our heads, Basketball was a game Americans played against their garage doors… Until our daughter, Justine began playing basketball at school and was picked for Natal Under 18’s in Pietermaritzburg. We decided we’d better get up there and watch a big match. The noise of rhythmic clapping and stomping and the high-speed bouncing of ball from one end of the court to the other caught us by surprise and we were soon involved in the excitement. Justy was passionate about the game and soon played for the Natal Under 21’s as well.  When she came home for a weekend bringing her dirty laundry her mother was horrified by the large number of socks amongst the basketball kit… mostly borrowed as she’d forgotten to send to the school laundry! Once, Justine's  children were all at school she returned to basketball and began coaching and encouraging schools to play the sport. Even under extreme chemo, her will and passion to continue nurturing the game and support the teams she had developed at their matches or practises, continued to virtually the end of her life.  Thus, when we came across this gem by Ernest Zacharevic, with a young tourist about to interact in a slam dunk as his friend photographed him, it became a meaningful moment.  A fun moment!  The photographer turned and showed Lea the active slow-motion photo taken on his mobile phone camera.  She was blown away and asked for a copy. He turned to his friend – the basketballer for permission. Out of nowhere, grief hit with force and Lea struggled to explain that her daughter had just died – to their credit their understanding was immediate and it was e-mailed it to us. Sadly, my camera didn’t cope with all the action and that particular photo went missing!

‘Sister and brother playing basketball’

Of course, we could not pass up the monkey amongst our photos; particularly as Lea captured Monkey man looking at his reflection.  (magnificent monkey eyes)

That old man interacting with this Street Art took us on a memorable, 

magical hour-long excursion for 50 Malaysian Ringgits (£10) in his Trishaw

Such was our exhilaration we were sorry when it was over. It certainly rates as the highlight of our trip to Penang. Hunger pangs again.  We’d heard much about the good food in George Town and up until now with our minds occupied by art we hadn’t noticed any place to eat in. Before we could really look around for a suitable café, the skies opened again and we were forced to take refuge in the closest place, set behind palm trees and stepping stones. Turned out to be a bakery with seating. We chose from the glass counter and dried off with tissues as they prepared our toasted garlic breads … which turned out to be over-done rather than succulent!

Once the rain had settled to a drizzle we left for the Jetty. Mindful of the water swirling down roads   headed for choked drains, ducking umbrellas on narrow almost non-existent pavements and slippery spots.

Chew Jetty Scenes

 Chew Jetty is a settlement of wooden houses on stilts with shop fronts in some cases, overlooking a narrow passage of rustic wooden planks. This walkway, capable of becoming incredibly congested. We were lucky that light rain kept many away in the temple shelter as we carefully took our walk down Chew Alley.  This jetty is the more famous of the clan jetties where migrant families of the same name live together in an area and in turn, become a living heritage that exists to this day.

The rain had effectively cooled down the humid conditions that we didn’t mind braving the traffic and walking home towards evening time by our clock not the sunset! Not far from Glow Hotel, standing out with its huge, bright red signage ‘De Happy’; we found a massive open barn-like structure with tables ready and stretching back a long way. Welcoming staff at the entrance way, happy to serve us at that relatively early hour.  There, we tucked into our best meal yet in Penang. Tasty prawns for Lea and  George chose beef in a black pepper sauce – both served with fried rice and garlicky bok choy washed down with large Tiger beers. YUM!

Our plan for Sunday was to have reception order another Grab for us and head for Penang Hill. There we’d catch the funicular to the top and enjoy a day on the summit with its flower garden, mini bird park and owl museum and come home by bus. However, when we were dropped at the Train entrance with military supervising the turning circle – we were staggered by the queues. Massive queues to buy tickets for the funicular and another massive queue waiting for the funicular. We observed for a bit then looked at each other and said ‘not for us’ simultaneously.  We walked back to the turning circle wondering where to go next and how to get away from there.  Almost immediately a Penang Hop-on Hop-off double decker drew in and we dashed over to catch it. Only to sit in the front seat on top deck for fifteen minutes. With a route map in hand we decided we would do a round and orientate ourselves. Two routes - the city and at the interchange, the beach. Thereafter, depending on bus timing we’d either have High Tea at the famous Great Eastern & Oriental Hotel or a walk in the Botanical Gardens followed by a gin and tonic refresher at the famous colonial hotel before taking the last leg back on our ‘24hr HoHo ticket’ to Komtar, as the closest stop and easy walking distance to Glow Hotel. All sorted so we thought!

George dug around in his backpack for the Penang Tourism pamphlet, Riva had given us on arrival, as the HoHo bus pulled away. Too many tourist places to visit but with this in hand we'd probably ‘see’ many and that would be good enough for our fleeting two days. Being a Sunday, the streets were heaving with Sunday markets as we made slow progress to Kek Lok Si, a monumentally large temple with a commanding view out to the coast from the foot slope of Penang Hill. Built over a period 1890 to 1930 on 30 acres of land – it is said to be the largest Buddhist Temple in SE Asia. We could see the 7 storied, handcrafted ‘Pagoda of Ten Thousand Buddhas’ and the striking Four Heavenly Kings Pavilion from our bedroom window.

From our seats on the bus, the magnitude of this ‘Temple of Supreme Bliss’ loomed above us. 

We recognised many of the George Town landmarks we’d walked the previous day and a bit and, thanks to more traffic congestion, we were glad when we finally reached Gurney Drive, the seafront promenade well known for its open-air hawker place and Gurney Plaza. The tide was well out and the exposed muddy flats reminded us of the first time we saw Cairns beach front – a very disappointing look; water makes a big difference! The HoHo Interchange was here and we hopped off to wait for the Coastal Hoho. Discovered there would be a wait and decided we would find lunch in the imposing Plaza- British India.    Food of every description seemed to be on offer, lots of Malaysian dishes that we were overawed by the choices. As we neared the far end of the massive food hall we spotted a big sign for Cendol. A bell rang in our heads – Yahya had told us to be sure to try a Cendol! We knew nothing about the dish - it seemed to have green beans and sweet corn within.

We ordered one, and a passer-by said, we’d never regret buying 

it as Cendol was the ultimate in flavours!

First up, it wasn’t savoury but a dulled sweetness and chilled. We discovered ‘cendol is popular nationwide and this moreish, sweet dessert has attained an almost revered status’. Somewhat like a knickerbocker Glory culturally changed; it incorporated finely shaved ice, coconut milk ice-cream, sweet corn and soft reddish- beans but the green strips were not green beans… They were green jelly strips handmade out of pandan leaves (screw-pine) with a firm springy chew not like we know sweet jelly to be. This, was the all-important cendol. All, was topped with a key ingredient - smoky, caramel like gula melaka (palm sugar) to sweeten.   Cendol is considered to offer an incredible reprieve from the heat.  It did not prove to be a signature dish for our palates!  We tried a few more, tasty ‘things’, no idea what, before dashing back to the Interchange. The Beach Decker came in minutes later and we climbed to the top and sat up front again. On the opposite seat, an Australian from the Gold Coast   we’d notice on the previous Hoho, sight-seeing from the top of a bus, like us.

We thoroughly enjoyed the Beach route along the narrow road in places, with the canopy of trees swooshing the bus as we wound our way along the coast. We had a good sighting of Malaysia’s first ever Floating Mosque. Another big structure with a seven-storey minaret. Miami Beach followed by Batu Ferringhi which was obviously the tourist mecca with huge hotels- we even spotted a Hard Rock Cafe. We felt a measure of relief that we hadn’t come to this area as it just did not have the authentic Penang feel compared to our side. 

Beach Scenes along the route.

We finally reached the entrance to Penang National Park and turned around. A good part of the afternoon had fast disappeared and we still had to get back. Oh no, after thinking we were homeward the HoHo turned inland for the last two stops of Taman Rimba - The Forest Recreation Park and Museum and finally Entopia, a lush tropical sanctuary and vivarium for the ‘little dwellers’ on our planet - butterflies, dragon flies and fireflies.  A twenty-minute wait followed; the driver disappeared and we sat in the hot sun. George thought he could see a sculpture of a water buffalo mauling something… at the entrance door to Entopia. He scurried over to take a closer look… 

Eyesight failing? He found two magnificent sculptures of a Rhinoceros Beetle 

and Big Black Beetle about to lock horns. 

 George couldn’t resist a photo of our HoHo as he came back.

Looking at our watches as we pulled off on the home stretch of this Beach route we realised these Stops at the popular, most visited landmarks in and around George Town all required lengthy visiting times often a good day to to see around hence the twenty-minute intervals and distance covered was not going to allow us to accomplish what we had planned. On the plus side, we’d seen a lot more of the George Town region. However, as we reached the Interchange the thought of more hours didn’t appeal. The Australian leapt off saying she was catching a taxi as she’d had enough. We endured a re-run up to Penang Hill, Kek Lok Si and round again. After six hours on the bus we alighted at Chowrasta. It had looked a busy and interesting area, first time round. From our map, we saw we could stretch our legs and find our way home. The crowds had disappeared and shops were closing. Thwarted yet again! We strolled home, taking a huge interconnecting overpass only to find it was under construction in the direction we needed to go. By the time we neared our landmark UMNO building our bellies were rumbling and George ever the homing pigeon for the familiar wanted De Happy beef!  The staff recognised us and welcomed us back.

And so, our Penang sojourn ended, the next day was airport time. A very interesting driver collected us and on the way out to the airport spoke of the island’s way of life, its independent island Government and its diversity. He spoke seven languages - we were impressed. It was back to Kuala Lumpur and through to Perth. Thankfully only a five-hour flight as our seats were the worst ever experienced. They backed onto the mid-aisle toilets subjecting us to ceaseless flushing noise. Constant opening and closing of not only that door but the toilet door opposite which was more unpleasant as odours wafted across.  And, inconsiderate people queuing for toilets leant against the seat in front of Lea, their bulk or movement interfering with her movie viewing. We were glad to land and have that final leg behind us.     

We were back in Australia...

Tramping tales for August 2017

      In search of Pongo pygmaeus - the jungle dweller.

Source: Audley itinerary

Borneo

Source: Audley itinerary

Our determination to visit Borneo goes back a long, long way – all the way to 1974 in fact, when our good friends Alan and Meg Kemp came back from working in Borneo.   By that stage, Alan was recognised worldwide for the outstanding work he had done on Ground Hornbills in the Kruger National Park and was becoming heavily involved in co-authoring a book about the Hornbills of the World. The rhinoceros hornbill is Malaysia’s national bird and the Malaysian Government had invited Alan and Meg to make a study of hornbills in Borneo.  On their return, they plied us with stories about the jungles of Borneo, they told us about their experiences whilst sharing accommodation with head-hunters sleeping in the longhouses of the Iban people, and how frustrating it had been studying birds which they heard, but could not see, due to the density of the canopy of the towering forest trees. They presented us with a book called “In Search of the Red Ape” - the beginning of it all ...  A mesmerising account of a simply fascinating part of the world that warranted placement on our ever growing “bucket list”. Prior to this we’d had two attempts to get there, which failed for various reasons but this time, on the third attempt, it proved lucky as usual!

The book we read - “In Search of the Red Ape” also accounts for the title given to this story of our own adventure In Search of Pongo pygmaeus - the forest dweller (a species not to be confused of course with “Pongo pommiensis”, the Pale Ape, which one commonly finds in the UK!!).

Sunday 13^th August    -

“D-day” … the day of our departure for Borneo, began with a few last-minute jobs like mowing the lawn at Westfield Farm for Daniel, as he was away in France with his children. That painful farewell was over but we had very special people popping in to wish us well beginning with Lenny and Elaine bringing presents to add to our frightening load.  The delivery of a very touching, hand-painted card of an iris by Natasha, from “the Ramsdens next door” expressing the very same sentiments we also felt so deeply, at present. Sharing the grief associated with the passing of our beloved Justy has created an unbelievably strong bond between us along with the incredible support we’d received from Emma English, who arrived on her trusty old bike; from Tina McCormack; Dan and Claire Scott, Emma Tilby and of course, Elaine and Lenny travelling down to Norfolk that day.

Whilst sitting outside beneath the grapevine on such a nice, warm sunny day in the presence of so many good friends an impromptu party developed – with people finishing off puddings left over from the marvellous dinner we’d been served up the previous night at Matt and Sue’s; while some of the hardened drinkers saw their way clear to damaging a bit more of Dan’s stocks of beer! Come 3.00pm however, it was time to leave, the tears to flow and the last hugs. 

Matt kindly drove us to the local Humberside airport and within no time we were aboard a small City Hopper, winging our way to Amsterdam feeling safe in the knowledge that we were finally underway. Or so we thought … Once aboard the massive Boeing 747 (Airbus) destined to take us to Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia – an eleven and a half hour, journey ahead of us - we were pleased to hear the Captain’s assurance that we would be taking off in six minutes time. The next announcement advised us of a delay as two passengers with the same name had been allocated the same seat and the matter being sorted out. In due course, having removed one of the passengers, a check had to be conducted to ensure nothing had been left in the overhead baggage compartments. Consequently, everyone was asked to take down their hand luggage and place it on their laps whilst a search was undertaken. With everyone growing increasingly anxious yet another hour passed amongst repeated apologies from the Captain. Government was now handling this security breach. Another hour followed until, shortly before midnight we were all asked to disembark. Too many security factors for the Captain to risk taking off without all the luggage in the hold being removed and everyone having to re-board!! By that time, the staff required to do so were off duty so everyone aboard the plane would be required to return to immigration before being allotted hotels. With 400 tired and anxious passengers to accommodate KLM had an unenviable job on their hands and all this took another couple of hours of standing around or sitting patiently on the carousels in the arrival hall, waiting for vouchers to be issued and hotels to be allocated.

At 2.30 am we landed up on the 4^th floor of the Hilton hotel, handed a “midnight snack” of a brown paper packet containing an anaemic looking sandwich, a coke, a chocolate bar and a small naartjie!

Exhausted, we simply fell into bed. Borneo was still a long way off and we weren’t really making a great deal of progress! Worse still was the knowledge that our connecting flight to Kuching would now be missed and the itinerary in place, would have to be revised.

              

Monday 14^th August - 

The first thing we did upon wakening was to send an email to Hannah Alderson at Audley, the UK travel company who’d set up our trip to Borneo and alerted her to our predicament. Meanwhile, breakfast in the “Bowery” at the Hilton went down very well – gorgeous crispy bacon and hash browns, honey in the cone and beautifully hot tea- all that means much to ‘the man’!

Hannah phoned and assured us that once she knew the flight number of the plane scheduled to take us to KL at 4.00pm, she would advise Audley’s partners in Kuching (Diethelm Travel) of the delay. We also mentioned that after a long-haul flight the prospect of spending our first night in an Iban longhouse on the Lemanak River, 300km from Kuching, may not be a good idea … but agreed to keep the option open until our arrival. Predictably, we spent the rest of the day killing time, sitting in the foyer of the Hilton Hotel or, after passing through Schiphol’s security and immigration for the second time, sitting in the departure lounge waiting to re-board the very same aircraft we had reluctantly abandoned the previous day. On re-boarding, we found a letter of profuse apology from KLM on every seat along with a box of “stroop-wafels” (caramel filled waffles)!  Needless-to-say there were more apologies from the Captain and another hour-long delay before taking off. Followed by a long, uncomfortable, sleepless night. A night brightened in George’s case, by listening to the sound of the “Highwaymen” on his earphones, deliberately played repeatedly while Lea watched films.

Tuesday 15^th August –

With a mass of bustling people, chilly air-conditioned interior, lifts to different levels, crowded train between terminals and lack of seating, Kuala Lumpur airport was not George’s idea of fun. Having missed our connecting flight to Kuching, we encountered our next problem. Our luggage had not been put through to Kuching as we’d planned. It turned out to be a separate leg and along with collecting our baggage we had to buy new tickets.  All this took time trundling our trolley full of luggage from floor to floor making enquiries. Our opinion of KLM sinking by the hour whilst wondering how, and when, we would ever be able to claim the compensation they had offered, in cash not vouchers! By 2.00pm we were sitting at the departure gate for Kuching killing time once again. However, shortly before the appointed hour we were told to move to another gate – a gate which happened to be at the opposite end of the terminal. After we’d rushed there, we were informed of another delay!   “The joys of airline travel” … We were so tired we could hardly keep our eyes open and the chilly air conditioning in the airport added to our misery. The thought of a long journey into the jungle followed by a night on the floor of a long house bothered us.

After another tedious, frustrating day, we finally began circling around Kuching preparing to land. In what little light remained, we had our first glimpse of Borneo. Large meandering forest fringed rivers, oxbow lakes and muddy deltas in the near-shore area. We had arrived but not before clearing immigration once more, having our photographs and fingerprints taken again and re-claiming our formidably large pile of luggage.

Given the understandable confusion concerning our whereabouts over the last few days we had half expected there would be no-one to meet us at the airport as arranged. We found a taxi to take us to the Waterfront Hotel in Kuching, a 20 / 30-minute drive away. Once there, reception was quick to advise Diethelm Travel (Audley’s partners) of our arrival and in next to no time their representative, Doris, arrived to welcome us and discuss our plans for the morning. All we wanted to do was lie down flat and go to sleep and that didn’t happen until after 10.00pm. We slept better knowing that if all went according to plan we were scheduled to catch our first glimpse of Pongo pygmaeus next day!

Waterfront Hotel, Kuching.

Wednesday 16^th August -

The view from our bedroom window

After a good night’s rest, it was gratifying to open our curtains and look down on the Sarawak River with Kuching’s State Legislative Assembly building, resplendent beneath its glistening “payung” (golden) roof, on the opposite bank; and to later emerge into the warm (28⁰C) humid air of Borneo knowing that we had all morning to relax.  We bought a cheap bag for the princely sum of £2 to lessen the load in George’s back-pack.

 A stroll along a beautifully laid out and quiet river frontage.

On our way back to the hotel, through a narrow street, we had Lea’s fob re-attached to her gold chain with a small twist of 22 carat gold wire using the services of one of the many jewellers advertising their expertise. A fitting anniversary present for our 49^th next day as we head into Gold!

Having abandoned the night in a long house we had to move to a new room in the Waterfront Hotel- which they had thankfully found for us within their heavily booked hotel. At 1.30pm we were ready to be collected by our guide, Cornelius, a very likeable local, and taken out of town to the Semenggoh Wildlife Centre (SWC). Whilst our driver James concentrated on weaving his way through the traffic Cornelius gave us a brief rundown on the purpose of the SWC as well as some of the Orang-utan characters we could possibly meet, regaling us with stories about “Ritchie”, the once dominant male who had been known to bite the fingers off a ranger as well as his rivals; stories about bags and food being snatched from visitors, even the clothes being torn off a lady unfortunate enough to have the audacity of laughing at him!

To George’s mind the best story of all was about Delima (aka “Hot Mamma”) who, on hearing the cries of a baby that had been left in its stroller while the parents were busy taking photos, had come down from the tree to comfort it. The only problem was that Hot Mamma decided to take the baby back up to the top of her tree and look after it for the next three hours! The parents beside themselves with anguish. As a result, babies in prams are no longer allowed into the reserve!

  (Photos - courtesy SWC)

We were impatient to meet any of the inmates. However, when George saw busloads of people, congregating before the 3.00pm feeding session, his heart dropped. Far too many people … but there was nothing we could do about it.

Feeding took place in the forest on a platform 

(with ropeways attached to it from various trees to make access easier for the Orang-utans). 

The Ranger periodically uttering “Tarzan calls”.

Other calls echoed across the valley. The intention, to advise any Orang-utans in the area that it was “tea time”.  We learnt their non-arrival is regarded as a good sign because the SWC want released Orang-utans to find food for themselves and it is for this reason the food, provided twice a day is not varied. They purposely want the food on offer to be boring and monotonous.

No Orang-utans arrived early and we gained simple pleasure just watching large, attractively striped black squirrels cautiously trying to sneak up on the fruit, to the background sound of forest birds and cicadas singing all around us. It felt like being back in the top end of Australia especially when half an hour later, the trees began to sway and whisper loudly from wind announcing the advent of a rain storm. The heavy rain brought Orang-utan watching to an abrupt end! Those without rain gear stood packed together under the roof of a small shelter, watching the path we’d followed into the forest turn into a river, while those lucky enough to have brought umbrellas splashed their way back to the buses.

At least, we learned a lot more about Pongo pygmaeus from our visit to SWC.  Two subspecies exist, the one in Malaysia being entirely different to that in Kalimantan on the Indonesian side of the island. And how, on admission of an orphan Orang-utan the youngsters are thoroughly documented, placed in quarantine for at least ninety days, undergo all sorts of medical checks and their behaviours monitored daily. Only then are they introduced to a nursery where they are fed twice a day and encouraged to climb and play. Once they have acquired climbing skills they enter a “primary school “where they are let loose every day and allowed to climb and explore trees in the forest, introduced to jungle food and shown by a ranger how to build nests. In “secondary school” they are brought into the forest for overnight stays and learn greater survival skills, fed irregularly and closely monitored. The Orang-utans are only released into the Semenggoh forest reserve once their skills, health and behaviours have been carefully evaluated. They are then left to themselves, occasionally receiving supplementary feeds. Where possible they are monitored daily during this period but in fact are seldom seen again. Satellite / radio tracking has proved unsuccessful as collars are simply ripped off and transmitters in the form of implants are similarly removed.

  

This schedule is of interest as 18 of the 29 Orang-utans were born here.

 

Even more interesting, one of the orangutans born in the centre, Edwin, has at the age of 21, subsequently ousted 36-year-old Ritchie as the dominant male. Dominant males, weighing up to 100kg, are twice the size of females and have a unique physical appearance with prominent cheek pads and throat pouch. The cheek pads are flanges of fat and only develop, due to hormonal changes (testosterone?) when the animal is about 15 years old. Orangutans are solitary creatures. Once a suitable girlfriend, in season, has been selected by a male he will apparently drag her around, holding firmly onto one of her arms, for 2 to 3 weeks at a time! 

Returning to our hotel, Cornelius regaled us with more stories. How Ritchie had taken a dislike to some of the trainee guides, of which he was one, and how they had to lock themselves up in a hut while Ritchie walked around pounding on the walls and doors! He suggested that Orang-utans are very good at facial recognition as long after they have taken a dislike to anyone. They are remembered the moment they are seen again!

It was still raining when we ventured out of the hotel at 6.00pm but armed with an umbrella supplied by the hotel we made our way down to the river esplanade and the Magenta Restaurant established in what was once a fort overlooking the river.  Great meal upstairs in a quiet restaurant with good views.

                                               Magenta Restaurant overlooking  the State Legislative Building.                                             All aglow with fountains of ever changing colours and lights…

Thursday 17^th August

This morning, again in the company of Cornelius and James, we were on our way to the Sarawak Cultural Centre which lay about ¾ of an hour away. Once out of the city, we began passing through extensive mangrove / palm dominated swamps, crossed the Santubong River and at the base of Mount Santubong, a national park, spent the next three hours wandering around the 17 acre grounds of the multi-award winning Cultural Village established by the Sarawak Government to display and celebrate the ethnic diversity of the State.

  Map of village

We were taken to seven traditional houses built around a man-made lake. The longhouses of the mountain dwelling Bidayuh people, made primarily, water conduits included, of bamboo; the longhouses of the river dwelling Iban people, built of axe-hewn timber tied with creeper fibre, palm wood flooring and roofs of leaf thatch; the rough shelters of the nomadic jungle dwelling Penan tribe – the manufacturers and adept users of blowpipes; and the solid ironwood houses of the river dwelling / rice growing Orang Ulu people, with exterior walls made from bark; renown manufacturers of the Bornean guitar (sepe) and the makers of hand forged swords derived from locally smelted iron ore.

We saw the tall houses of the Melanau people who, frequenting coastal areas, are built on 8m high stilts tall enough to accommodate Borneo’s massive tidal range. They live on a diet of sago – a starch extracted from sago palms that grow in the coastal swamps and eat the borer beetle larvae found in the stem of the palms. Due to the threat of pirates, the floor of their houses is see-through. Large vats of oil and water kept constantly on the boil to pour down on anyone suspected of being a pirate. The Melanau people combat illness by carving little figurines out of wood and floating them out to sea on the outgoing tide.

We visited the fashionable ironwood houses of the Malay people are also built on stilts but they have indoor plumbing, curtains, prayer rooms and proper, comfortable looking beds; and the mud-floored houses of the Chinese, characterised by their household shrines and roofs thatched with palm fronds.

There were many interesting things to see and hear about (a music show put on in the village theatre included) but it was the making of blowpipes that really caught George’s fancy, particularly after having had a shot with a blowpipe and hit the target! Being well over two metres in length and beautifully hewn and polished from dense, dark ironwood it was how such uniformly sized holes could be hand–drilled through the centre that left George perplexed. It was all very well seeing the drilling platform from which the piece was worked (see photo below). Quite apart from the skill and patience required, how a hole could be drilled so accurately by hand remained unclear to him. Cornelius pointed out that nowadays an aluminium tube, encased in timber, is the modern way of making blowpipes. That, was cheating in George’s mind! 

        Blow pipe drilling platform

Street Cat Statue in Kuching

Kuching is known as the “City of Cats” … although Cornelius seemed to indicate that it all came about as a form of publicity for the city since it is similar for the word cat - ‘kucing’. We had seen large cat statues as we drove through town and had stopped to admire a cat sculpture down on the esplanade. In one of the indigenous long houses we came across a mother cat with a definite kink in her tail and her very young kittens still finding their feet, skittering around with little chunks for tails. Cornelius assured us many cats in Sarawak were born like that.

  

It was not surprising the Cat Museum was next, on our day’s agenda. The museum housed an extra-ordinary collection of cat-related subjects. Works of art from pictures to ceramics, to examples of cat philately, cat coffins, cat head rests, cat clothing and cat toys, even insights into the mystery surrounding the origin and function of a cat’s ability to make purring noises. There were descriptions of all the different types of cats in the world; accounts of record breaking cats such as “Towser”, a female tortoiseshell from Scotland who by her 23^rd birthday had killed 25 716 mice; or the record of a 4-month-old kitten in Switzerland that followed a group of climbers to the top of the Matterhorn (altitude 14 691 ft) in the Alps in 1950. In short, a museum containing anything and everything one could ever wish to know about mankind’s feline friends!  May not go down too well in Australia where “moggies” are generally not looked upon with great favour? 

   Cat Museum

In stark contrast was Kuching’s Natural History Museum, our last port of call for the day. It was full of moth-eaten examples of Malaysian fauna in antiquated glass fronted cabinets, displays of birds all mixed up with butterflies and moths (some of the butterflies cut out of paper and the wings hand painted); near illegible annotation and everything in dire need of a face lift and modernisation. The fact a new museum building was under construction next door at least suggested we weren’t the only ones who thought so.

As the day drew-to-a-close we walked down to The Drunk Monkey on Cornelius’ recommendation for a pre-dinner drink. A spot, to be remembered for the malaria pill George had brought to take with his dinner. As he took out his wretched hankie to blow his snozzle, the foil wrapped pill fell out of his pocket. When Lea suggested a coin may have dropped out of his pocket, he knew immediately what had occurred. Took out his glasses to look for the pill not realising one of the lenses had fallen out of the frame! As we began looking for the pill Lea spotted the lens behind his foot and asked him not to step back. George merely glanced at the glass and kept looking for the pill unaware it was his for a good while longer.  What a to-do! Talk about an absentminded old idiot… We had a good laugh when we realised the pill had amazingly dropped down a narrow pipe. Irretrievable!

Bit later, we moved on to find our anniversary dinner, 

shared Peking Duck at Kuching’s well-known Bla-bla-bla restaurant.     

Friday 18^th August –

The day was spent flying from Kuching in the State of Sarawak to Sandakan, in Sabah, via Kota Kinabalu.  Once in Sandakan, with Venus acting as our guide, we were taken to M.Y. Nature Resort run by the company Special Interest Tours (or S. I. Tours for short) where we were to spend the next two days.

 My Nature Resort -  a pleasant surprise

First, was the appearance of the resort. Neatly built cabins on concrete stilts, set amongst towering trees, lush vegetation dripping wet from the rain we’d just driven through; clouds of mist rising from the canopy of the rain forest; colourful swallowtail butterflies flitting about; masses of bougainvillea and crab-claws in flower; a sparkling blue swimming pool in the centre of the development and, apart from a few members of staff, almost no-one else to be seen. The only upset, after two young porters had wheeled our luggage to our spacious, well-appointed room, was Lea’s discovery that in George’s haste to repair a zip shortly leaving the UK George had inadvertently stitched her black jump suit into the fabric of the suitcase – a garment that would now have to remain stitched in place until we reached Australia!

Flying squirrel

Second, and certainly the highlight of the day, was to witness the flights of some Giant Red Flying Squirrels which, just before dusk, took off from the top of the tree they live in beside the resort, and go zooming on outstretched “wings” to trees sometimes as far as 80-100m away! We were told that Serpent Eagles are often on the look-out for these squirrels at dusk and that several of the resort’s population of flying squirrels had already been caught.

In time, we discovered that S. I. Tours (with its logo, the footprint of a Clouded Leopard) and all three of the resorts we were destined to stay in, MY Nature Resort included, were wholly owned and run by a young Chinese woman named Amy Chin. The success she has made of the business after 25 years, not to mention her pluck in tackling such a truly daunting task, left us full of admiration.  

Saturday 19^th August –

The next morning, with 8 other guests, we set off in a minibus, with Venus our guide, to the Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre (SORC) a few kilometres away from MY Nature Resort.

Not unexpectedly, this very well-known Sanctuary was alive with people. George was a little taken aback initially, to be told that those carrying cameras were required to pay a “camera fee”, over and above the entry fee. However, with all the funds collected being used for the betterment of the Orang-utans, it was for a good cause. No charge for using phone cameras though! On our way to the Centre’s Nursery Building across a long board walk through the jungle, we encountered our first Orangutan, looking a little forlorn, sitting on one of the boardwalks.

Inside the nursery building were large glass windows with seating to observe 

the outside play area with jungle gym containing ropes to swing on, car tyres and feeding platforms. 

Despite signs for silence the place was abuzz and very busy. Here, amidst distracting human behaviour we observed 4 or 5 young Orangutans playing around and/or hanging upside down while on the platforms, a couple of adult females sat eating bananas and oranges. All the seating available in the building was taken up by the gabbling mass that the whole experience was artificial, annoying and zoo-like that George did not even feel like taking photos! It was only when a large pig-tailed macaque arrived to have some bananas and began pulling faces at the crowd of humans staring at him that things got interesting, only to be ushered along by Venus to observe a feeding platform deeper in the forest.

There, another sign saying SILENCE, had no effect whatsoever. People continued to chatter at the top of their voices and drop things on the deck of the platform. Twenty metres away a basket full of bananas and oranges had been dumped on a platform built around the base of a large tree and it did not take long before a female Orangutan, with a baby clinging to its belly, appeared. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing to watch, even when several pig-tailed and long tailed macaques came to steal what they could. Afternoons are said to be quieter and since our ticket was valid all day we decided we would return in the afternoon. Hopefully, there would be less people around.

Across the road was the Bornean Sun Bear Conservation Centre founded by Dr Wong Yi, who we met briefly outside the Centre he’d established, to protect these widely maltreated animals from continued exploitation. Sun Bears, also known as Sun Dogs because of their small size and doglike bark, are persecuted by Asian countrymen who not only keep them in appalling conditions to extract bile from their gall bladders.  They sell the paws and skins (the striking white collar on the neck of the bear being particularly sought after) at good prices to none other than the Chinese.

Long tailed macaque and sun bear composite

There were 43 Sun Bears at the Centre, observable from a tall walkway overlooking the sun bear enclosures, electric fencing employed to prevent them from climbing out. Several bears could be seen sleeping up in the dizzy heights of branches, very like koala-like in Leas mind. While others were found wandering on the forest floor.  Also in attendance, sitting on the walkways, were long-tailed macaques waiting to snatch anything from unwary visitor – Rangers repeatedly warned people not to make eye contact with them.

Photos taken through a telescope and Lea’s phone camera with the help of a ranger!

Back at our resort, Lea suddenly leapt into the air a when long slim, striped snake, quietly sunning itself on the driveway, whipped up and twisted away, back into the jungle, at the proximity of her footfall - giving her a scare, as we went to lunch.

Returning to the SORC in the afternoon we found that with fewer people around, viewing of the young Orang-utans at the Nursery building was far more enjoyable.  

Their delightful antics reminiscent of our hands-on stay we had 

in Zambia’s Chimfunshi with young rescued chimpanzees. 

There was little to be seen at the feeding platform in the forest. “People problems” were still sufficient to be off-putting and distracting – arguing over blocking the views of people sitting behind them, until a ranger had to intervene – in short, just more evidence of so-called intelligent human beings behaving badly.  

   

That evening with Terry as our guide, we returned to Sepilok Orang-utan Rehabilitation Centre for the third time.  Terry had introduced us to the flying squirrels the previous evening. After collecting a local ranger at the SORC, we could hardly believe our luck when we came across an Orang-utan sitting in the bus shelter! It was a great moment for George because if he’d been on his own, he’d have followed his inclination to quietly sit down in the shelter, and slowly make friends. Monkey-man felt a strong sense of empathy, a feeling that was upset by the ranger advising him not to get too close, and to step back when the animal approached, “fist walking” on its knuckles. Whilst feeling no fear at all, George regretted having had to obey … but that is just how monkey-men react sometimes!

Ape in a bus stop!                         

Shortly after, we came across another Orangutan who’d decided to spend the night on the verandah outside the Centre’s locker room. Having one of its arms outstretched through the railings George took a serious look at the unusual structure of its hand.   Apparently, a few orangutans having grown up in the nursery, like to take over the Sepilok Visitors Centre overnight, rather than make nests up in jungle trees.      

With dusk fast approaching, a sighting of two Black Hornbills flying overhead and later a Rhinoceros Hornbill, things had got off to a good start! It continued to improve as we watched at least five flying squirrels doing their inspiring leaps from the top of the tall Dipterocarp trees that surrounded the Nursery building. With unusual sounds of cicadas filling the air, making a most unlike cicada noise – more like an orchestra warming up; we followed the boardwalk (for the umpteenth time that day) seeing a collection of creatures. Some large frogs; a tree-hole frog peeping out of its hiding place; hammer-head worm (on the handrail); several different types of spiders (some busy web building); a small whip scorpion; a light green viper coiled in the branches of a tree above us and to crown it all, as we got to the end of our hour long walk – the sight of a Slow Loris climbing a tree.

Not the best photo taken with a tiny digital camera – but these must truly be one of the strangest of animals in the animal kingdom. They possess a poison gland in the elbow (a modified sweat gland) which it sucks upon when harassed or threatened in any way, deliberately infecting its teeth in the process. Apparently, the poison is so toxic that the bite from a Slow Loris can prove fatal!   

  

Sunday 20^th August –

Before leaving the MY Nature Resort we took a stroll along their 1.5km board walk into the forest and were struck by how broken the terrain is inside some of these rain forests. The ground on which the forest was growing was a mass of steep ridges and deep gullies all of which must have made construction of the boardwalk a herculean task.

By 11.00am it was time to meet Yahya, our guide for the rest of our trip.  An hour-long bus ride took us to Sandakan’s harbour and the jetty of the Sim Sim village. With our embarrassingly large amount of luggage, we were very glad to be offered free storage before heading up the Kinabatangan River.

 Sim Sim Jetty: our boat on the right and the trade mark plants of a lady Boss!

Twelve of us climbed aboard a covered boat powered by two 85HP Yamaha engines and sped off into the South China Sea, fortunately very calm at the time. After half an hour, the colour of the water beginning to change from blue to brown. The helmsman began weaving and dodging flood debris and we sensed we were nearing the Kinabatangan River.

Being river lovers, we enjoyed every minute of the hour-long journey upstream,

 fascinated primarily by the fringing vegetation.

Palm dominated in the lower reaches fringed by tall mangroves elsewhere, the tallest George had ever seen and, perhaps in response to the profile of the riverbank, the transition between each assemblage was remarkably sudden. As we twisted and turned up the channel more and more flood debris was encountered and upon reaching the Abai fishing village, we slowed down to prevent the boat’s wake from upsetting the villager’s flimsily constructed jetties. Not far off was a police station where Yahya dropped off a newspaper to help keep them abreast of events back in civilisation. Shortly after, we pulled up alongside the jetty of the Abai Jungle Lodge, the establishment that was to serve as our home for the next two nights.

 Abai Jungle Lodge 

Surprising George, the whole development, consisting of over 30 cabins, is situated in a flooded forest in which the effects of the tide (impeding the outflow of the Kinabatangan River) was all too obvious.

How did they manage to pile all the foundations for the buildings, construct the walkways and safely dispose of sewage in a permanently flooded environment?

Septic tanks were in use, Yahya told him, but where to the leachate?  The muddy river water was used for our showers – cringe! (It was basically filtered though) Not a problem so the thought of that, did not detract from an otherwise remarkably comfortable and well laid out resort. After a brief “post-prandial siesta”, we gathered for afternoon tea and fried banana (Delicious! A signature dish for all SI Tour accommodation. MY Nature Resort served them over the sundowner hour). 

Before piling into an open boat, Yahya mentioned to Lea we were off to find elephant.  She thought he was taking the mick!  Sure enough, we set off upstream in search of elephant! Bornean pygmy elephants … and, as we travelled looking at the impenetrable nature of the fringing forest, we wondered how anyone could possibly hope to see anything so completely and effectively screened from view. Nonetheless, as if by magic, upon the sound of an elephant trumpet in the forest, our boat driver nosed the prow under the branches of an overhanging tree and there, right before our eyes, not five metres away were 5-6 elephants walking through the forest. With Yahya excitedly shouting “Woo-woo” George began snapping photos as fast as he could and continued doing so after Yahya, who had leapt off the prow, came back running to say another lot were coming! By now there was shrill trumpeting adding to the excitement, everyone feeling overjoyed by this good fortune.  African elephants would never calmly put up with the noise! The whole experience was exhilaratingly worthwhile.

On the way, back to the Lodge we watched some silver leafed langur monkeys, each sporting very long tails and a peaked hairstyle, one carrying a small ginger coloured baby.  Not long after we spotted our first proboscis monkeys; a tiny blue-eared kingfisher which allowed us to approach within a few metres, unconcerned about being brightly illuminated by torchlight. Yahya deliberately stayed out until after dark to show us an amazing sight. “Fireflies” (beetles) all winking away in a mangrove tree looking more like a Christmas tree. We have seen many species of fireflies but these – known as Congregating Fireflies - are static, and impressed us because we are more familiar with those species that flit around. 

  

Near the Lodge a small (1.5m) crocodile was spotted skulking on a mud bank beneath the mangroves, enabling us to watch it casually slither into the river. Our first jungle viewing deemed was a success.

All meals were included in our lodge stays.  Lunch and dinner comprised of soup, two mains – a chopped chicken and a fish dish with sides of fresh vegetables followed by some sliced fruit. Very simple but certainly tasty using a variety of different spices and flavours each time. Only the many bones from hacking the chicken into bite sized pieces were a trial. We’d wash dinner down with cans of cold Tiger beer.

The first night at Akai, delicious river prawns purchased by S I Tours from the local fishermen whose baited basket traps (marked by plastic bottles) were much in evidence along the river. Rain followed cooling things down nicely, and put an end to another near perfect day. Just the croaking of frogs, the soft patter of rain falling on the roof and the occasional splashing was all we needed to go to sleep. 

Monday 21st August –

Yahya had us up and out searching for wildlife at dawn. Not long after leaving the Lodge we came across a bachelor group of about 20 Proboscis monkeys performing spectacular leaps from one branch to another. The largest of them sporting a bright orange coat, bulging stomach. His long white tail looking as if it had been sewn onto his back, his nose already very prominent suggested he was waiting his chance to challenge the leadership of a troop.

Proboscis monkeys are a highly unusual species, endemic to Borneo, that possess two 

stomachs like a cow to allow more efficient digestion of their diet of leaves and fruit.

  

Apparently, they are often found in the company of long tailed macaques which made George wonder whether there was some sort of mutual benefit derived from their association (as is the case between impala and baboons). Yahya reckoned they had different diets and therefore were not in conflict with each other.

Later, we entered a magnificent ox-bow lake (Lake Pitas), cut off from the main channel, with huge expanses of wetland vegetation (a type of sudd) fringed by forest.

Of interest to George, was the presence of Salvinia and water hyacinth both thriving in the quiet, highly nutritious condition of the lake. There was much swirling of catfish, poking their whiskered faces out of the water, and fish-eating birds such as egrets and herons in abundance. Yahya pointed out a Wallace’s Hawk Eagle sitting on the top of a dead tree but the angle of the sun prevented us from being able to clearly see the markings.

By 8.30 we were back at the Lodge. Instead of going to usual dining area we were led beyond the cabins and out on to a boardwalk that opened out into a delightful ‘Jungle Platform’ where breakfast was served. Below, we discovered some teenage wild pigs noisily feeding in the mud and, of course, the occasional tit-bits provided by the chef. The wild pigs enjoyed wallowing around in the mud beneath boardwalks.

Most interesting and ingenious was the large stuffed dog, a Husky, standing on a table. Its purpose to scare away any monkeys that felt inclined to help themselves to breakfast. Playing the sound of a dog barking made more of an impression on the monkeys and, according to the Lodge staff, they have never had any trouble since. At lunch, the Husky is simply moved to the main dining room to continue to perform its valued role as a monkey scaring device. This approach naturally had George wondering whether Vervet monkeys or baboons would fall for this trick in Africa. Somehow, he doubted it! 

  

The next “activity” Yahya had us participate in was the WWF’s River Corridor project – a tree planting scheme designed to replenish areas along the edges of the Kinabatangan river which, for one reason or another, had become denuded of trees. We collected a youngster from Abai village (lying across the river opposite the Lodge) together with a dozen or more small seedlings in plastic containers. The idea was for each visitor to the Lodge to plant a tree on the river bank, onto each was tied a numbered tag that served to identify the person who planted it and acted as a record of how much money the Lodge had to pay the villagers for providing the trees. George and Lea duly planted their trees, mulched with some elephant dung they spotted nearby. 

                      George, ever the cynic thought the whole thing was little more than a ploy to make visitors                                                 feel they had done their bit for conservation, even offsetting the effects of climate change!  

To his mind, the trees were planted far too close together and instead of being placed on the forest fringe, were placed beneath an already well-established community. He would also have liked to know more about the self-generating capability of tropical forests (unaided) before getting overly enthusiastic.  Lea, preferred the idea that through the lodge, money had been generated for these remote jungle people in many ways.

Our visit to the impoverished village of Abai (population 200) was interesting. A small primary school, long drop toilets over the river floating on logs tethered to the bank, a reliance on fish and prawns from the river and tropical fruits from the forest for food and, in the event of illness, periodic visits from a floating mobile clinic. We came to realise just how important construction of the Abai Jungle Lodge had been for the villagers since many of them are employed there in one capacity or another; it also serves as an outlet for the prawns and fish they catch and has greatly eased access to supplies such as the fuel needed for their boats and generators.

Abai village scenes

The village of Abai had another very special meaning to George. On the wall near reception we came across a photo of Martin and Osa Johnson in their amphibious plane.  George vividly recalled the book - “I Married Adventure” which he, as a youngster, had so often paged through gun-toting Osa’s book, with its distinctive zebra-striped cover, while lying in the lounge of his family home. It may even have inadvertently accounted (in part) for his own spirit of adventure!   Here we were, in the self-same spot of the once well-known adventurers and film-makers, Martin and Osa Johnson who, in 1936, spent some time here making a film about wildlife and the customs and rituals of the indigenous tribes of NE Borneo. They had even landed the famous Sikorsky amphibious plane “The Spirit of Africa”, now renamed "The Spirit of Africa and Borneo” on the Kinabatangan River. 

 The photo that triggered a memory… Martin and Osa Johnson’s plane on the Kinabatangan River (1936)

The motion film the Johnson’s made called “Borneo”, included some of the characters they befriended at the village of Abai, back in the day. They left Borneo in Sept 1936 with 3 000 photos and 150 000 feet of film little knowing it was to be their last adventure as Martin was killed in a commercial plane crash in 1937, the same year as the film “Borneo” was made.

With Keith’s help, on our return to Australia we were quick to track down the film Borneo on Youtube: [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4weJAyuCrM ] – a film worth watching if only because of the striking contrast between the wildlife documentaries of yester-year (1935) and those of today. A transition from unbelievably poor to unbelievably good!

  

With the weather becoming oppressively warm as the afternoon wore on we were not surprised when it began to rain. Nevertheless, by 4.00pm we were back on the river again watching an entire family of proboscis monkeys gazing down on us from above, frustratingly difficult to photograph with a tiny camera. We saw a Grey-headed fish eagle at one point but the highlight of the afternoon’s viewing was spent watching an old, truly wild, female orang-utan feeding on the red coloured fruits of a large river fig tree. She was reluctant to openly show herself, preferring to hide from us onlookers behind her screen of leaves but every now and again we’d catch a glimpse of one of her long arms reaching out for another fig. By deliberately swaying the stem of the tree she was sitting in she would set up sufficient momentum to reach the clusters of figs on the stem of the fig tree. The presence of green pigeons feeding on the figs reminded George of the feeding frenzy he’d seen in Niassa. The fig tree’s local name “Queen of the Forest” comes from its value as a food supply for all sorts of Bornean forest dwellers.

The signals (flashing of a torch) from another boat out on the search for wildlife indicated they had discovered something worthwhile and, rather like tourists in the Serengeti do when a ‘kill’ is sighted, we were drawn to a spot where yet another orang-utan was hiding amongst dense foliage. All the guides on the river carry laser torches with them as a pointing device and use them to good effect to indicate where one should look. Needless-to-say, with such secretive beasts hidden in such poorly lit, dark locations, photographs are near impossible to take with a simple camera.

On our way home, with darkness rapidly approaching, our boat driver noticed another croc beneath the mangroves so we did a quick turn and got very close to it. A much larger croc this time, approx. 2.5m in length, which kindly swam out of its hiding spot and remained at the surface long enough for a few photos. The crocs clearly enjoy low tide as there are really no suitable places to rest up at other times.

Dusk on the Kinabatangan River

The night walk after dinner provided nothing of real interest apart from a very brief sighting of a Bornean Striped Palm Civet in a tree – a most un-civet like looking creature, more like the genet cats we are familiar with in Africa.    

Tuesday 22nd August –

A mother pig with seven piglets was the focus of attention at breakfast today 

before our departure for Kinabatangan Riverside Lodge, an hour’s journey upstream.

On route, we saw yet another Orang-utan obscured by thick foliage and later, a female and her baby, in full unobstructed view, feeding on figs. It was our best view yet of a wild Orang-utan and completely unexpected …

This lousy photograph illustrates just how frustrating it is not 

having the right camera gear when you need it! 

We began to encounter palm oil plantations (the Malbumi Estate), the river was beginning to narrow and sometimes abutted up against sheer outcrops of limestone. The plantations (which have a dreadful reputation) led us to start discussing whether the sediment laden nature of the river was a result of erosion from plantations in the catchment and learnt that being vast amount users of palm oil, Nestle’s have launched a massive tree planting scheme like the WWF’s river corridor project. Pay-back time George thought, as well as a desperate effort to save a bit of face; however when it came to the matter of soil loss we remained unconvinced palm oil plantations are entirely to blame. Considering, that once established the palms are in place for 20 years and throughout this time the overlapping crowns of each tree effectively breaks the impact of falling rain, there is also a dense ground cover of grasses and weeds beneath the palms that further assist in protecting the soil.  George wished he could see some aerial (or satellite) photography to understand what was going on especially as Yahya told him that the colour of the river water, pre-plantation days, used to be almost black (i.e. peat stained). 

 Kinabatangan Riverside Lodge

After lunch at the Lodge we took time to watch a few documentaries in their library about Orang-utans, the work of the Sepilok Rehabilitation Centre, and proboscis monkeys. As we returned along the boardwalk to our room a good-looking, long haired dog came rushing towards us panting furiously. In hot pursuit, three village dogs, until they saw us and instantly became more cautious. Lea shooed them off and they obediently left although the lead dog stayed within sight. She was obviously just coming into season and happy to sit at our feet away from the hounding of locals.  At odd times, during our stay, dog fights would break out.  When Lea enquired why the female hadn’t been spayed we discovered that this poor bitch had sailed up the Kinabatangan River with her Australian owners a couple of weeks before. When the yacht came to turn back, the dog was nowhere to be found and the owners departed without her.  Having seen Akai village breeds, much like ‘leatherback’ dogs in Aboriginal settlements covered in mange or the wombats of Narawntapu NP in Tasmania losing hair to mange from sleeping in damp, dank burrows; we couldn’t help wonder how this poorly equipped dog would cope with her coat in this high humidity. Sad!

       

Late afternoon, came time of our usual river cruise. What a memorable cruise it turned out to be! Yahya had heard elephants had been sighted downstream, near the Malbumi Estate half an hour away, which we’d passed earlier in the day. So back we went and sure enough there were about 12 elephants contentedly feeding on reeds and cane grass alongside four boatloads of excited tourists, all taking selfies of themselves with elephants in the background!  Being familiar with African elephants we could hardly credit that these animals were wild. They allowed us to get so close that George could have touched the outstretched trunk of one of them from the prow of the boat. All completely unconcerned and with the loud trumpeting going on in the jungle behind them, presented a marvellous spectacle all together.

Elephants galore!

Elsewhere we saw a small flock of Lesser Adjutant Storks – an endangered species - that at first sight much resembled our Marabou storks in Africa; and whilst nosing our way up a small tributary we encountered Orang-utan ropeways purposely strung across the river because, unlike proboscis monkeys, Orang-utans cannot swim.

 A proboscis monkey kindly provided us with a demonstration of how to use a ropeway. We spent time watching a female pig-tailed macaque diligently grooming her baby, her grotesque swollen posterior indicating, as in the case of baboons, that she was “in season”.

As a matter of interest, it has taken George a while to get used to taking off shoes whenever entering the dining room or bedroom at the lodges we have been staying at… Presumably to protect the floors? [NO George, there are many countries where it is customary to remove your shoes to enter a home or religious place – all shoes are dirty in more than the literal sense] When it came to rolled-up sarongs on our beds to wear at dinner … George drew the line and flatly refused! Lea tried on hers, it was far too short and skimpy for her girth so we let them be.   At our dinner table, we began talking to a lady from Denmark, writing up her PhD on doctor-patient relationships in Copenhagen. And, having worked for Medecins Sans Frontieres International in Myanmar and Sierra Leone, Anna-Marie proved a most interesting young woman, speaking on conditions in her work places that kept us seated long after dinner was over, conversing with her.

Wednesday 23rd August-

                             

With only the two of us now left in Yahya’s care he had us up at 6.15 to go for another boat cruise on the river. As soon as we were out on the water, our driver took us to see a large Keel Pit Viper, apparently a very venomous species, coiled up, as if comatose, in the branches of a tree. Much to our horror, George discovered his camera, having got a little damp the previous day, was no longer working! We returned to the lodge to collect Lea’s phone and George took the following photo as Lea anxiously waited for the prow of the boat to accidentally dislodge the snake, as it knocked against the tree.

No sooner done, the rain came down and we decided it was foolish to subject ourselves to the wet especially as damp clothes took so long to dry. We returned to the Lodge chilled and promptly climbed back into bed for an extra hour.  

Our cruise resumed once the rain had cleared and we motored up the Menanggul River, a nearby, beautifully peaceful, forest-lined tributary carrying a distinctly different type of water – almost black in colour and sediment free.  A stretch of water that was once the route the Chinese used to transport swift nests from the Goomatong Cave – the site of which, we were to visit later in the day.  The improved clarity of the water also seemed to mean it was a good spot for kingfishers because we were quick to see three species - the large Stock-billed kingfisher, resembling a kookaburra except for its red beak and orange chest; a Blue-eared kingfisher like a malachite; and a Ruddy kingfisher. Other species of birds seen included Dollar birds (which we often see in the Top End of Australia); Racquet tailed drongo; Storm’s stork; Blue throated bee-eater and most interesting of all – the Bornean falconet, the smallest bird of prey in the world!  [How good did we feel on our return to Australia when, totally out of the blue, our son-in-law Paul, happened to ask if we knew what the smallest bird of prey was. We did!) It is about the size of an Indian mynah and it preys on butterflies. Elsewhere we watched a crocodile, with just its head showing, drifting alongside a raft of water hyacinth and were told that they use it for cover knowing that monkeys sometimes come down to the water’s edge to feed on the hyacinth flowers.  

  

Ever since watching a documentary on the harvesting of edible swift nests for bird nest soup George had, for years, been keen to see the Goomatong Cave.   This limestone cave system lay amid a 3 000ha forest reserve administered by the Wildlife Department. Although the harvesting of nests is an industry that has been going on for hundreds of years it is strictly controlled to safeguard both the population of swifts and other cave inhabitants such as bats. Every entrance to the caves had a guard in attendance. Harvesting is only allowed 3-4 months after the swifts have laid eggs to ensure that their young have flown by then.    

    

With harvesting only being conducted three times a year we were very lucky, and more than delighted, to find harvesting underway on arrival.  We were absolutely spell-bound at the sight and sound of the teams of people at work, many invisible, swaying 80m above our heads, at the end of long ladders being pulled this way and that by ropes, then lowering baskets of nests to their colleagues below. George could have watched and listened for hours and he had a strong desire to go up one of the ladders as the whole thing reminded him of old Ibu harvesting honeycombs from the branches of his sacred baobab tree in Niassa! 

There are three types of nests:

White nests (selling at $3 000 / kg) produced by the Edible Nest Swiftlet. Black nests (selling at $1 500 / kg) produced by the Black Nest Swiftlet and, the moss lined nests of the Mossy Nest Swiftlet.

All three are echo-locating swifts quite unlike the normal swifts one sees elsewhere. Yahya explained the nests were an acquired taste – with little flavour and glutinous.  Far from a stick or grass nest of our imagination!

 Photo of a photo of Swiftlet nests. Lighting no good for our camera even with Yahya shining a torch.

Days later, whilst awaiting our flight to Perth we wandered around the Kuala Lumpur International Airport, and came across small, carefully packaged boxes of “cave bird nests”, locked behind glass cabinets, selling for MR 2 399 (about £430) for 6/8 nests.

 

And, as for the rest of the cave inhabitants … things were just as fascinating. The slippery. guano covered boardwalk that led through the lower part of the cave was crawling with cockroaches and covered in tiny white droppings. The floor of the cave was similarly covered together with the remains of swift feathers, with only the central quill remaining, as the rest of the feather had been devoured by cockroaches. Yahya demonstrated that if one spat onto the floor of the cave the cockroaches buried beneath the guano would immediately come boiling to the surface forming a mass of saliva-feeding insects, not unlike a feeding frenzy of sharks.  Flying high above, having been disturbed by the nest gatherers, were masses of tiny horseshoe bats circling, and on the cave walls, all sorts of other creepy crawlies in the form of long legged arthropods (known as symphilids) and crickets.

An absolute entomologist’s paradise!

To further crown our last afternoon – on our walk back from the cave, we saw four more Orang-utans (both females with babies) and a bright ginger coloured Red-leaf monkey peeping at us from the top of a tree.  It was a perfect end to another very interesting day – and the Goomatong Cave experience was something we would not have missed for anything.

Yet, before sunset, Yahya was determined to take us on one last river cruise up the Menanggul River and show us a Flying Colugo – a rufous coloured lemur, endemic to Borneo, clinging to a tree trunk. What more could we have asked for. “Mission more than accomplished” bar our visit to the Sandakan Memorial.

Thursday 24^th August –

                             

With our bags packed and ready to be loaded onto the boat taking us back to Sandakan.

Breakfast was held on the front terrace of the Riverside Lodge and 

we were given pride of place in a private gazebo over the water.

Our last meal made all the memorable by the sound of Bornean gibbons calling on the opposite side of the river. It was the one animal we regret not having seen, if only because of the way they swing effortlessly through the trees. The ones we saw in Taman Negara years ago will just have to suffice.

 

And so, we left this watery world we had been living in … our early departure brought to a rapid halt moment later when a croc was spotted beneath the mangroves – a large one this time, some 4m long. It seemed reluctant to move, despite two 85 HP motors running 5m away and people taking photos, but eventually it slipped into the water and sinking, disappeared.  Being low tide, we saw a couple more crocodiles on our way down the river as well as a couple of elephants.

By 10.00am we were in Sandakan and taken directly to the Sandakan Memorial Park.  Why the Sandakan Memorial Park? The answer: In January 2007 whilst passing through the little town of Boyup Brook in Western Australia we came across a war memorial in Sandakan Park. Erected by an ex -POW of the Japanese Ted McLaughlin, a farmer in Boyup Brook to the memory of three of his friends who died in Sandakan and 130 of his comrades from Western Australia who perished in Borneo. He did not make the boat journey from Changi, Singapore to Sandakan due to illness. Instead he was sent to Burma.  It was the first place in Australia to create a memorial. There, we read about 2 400 Australian and British prisoners of war that had died at the hands of the Japanese in 1945 in North Borneo; only six, all Australian escapees, survived. It made such an impression on us that a visit to Sandakan was quickly added to our bucket list and today, ten and a half years later, we’d finally made it!    

  

Scenes from within the POW camp at Sandakan

The Park commemorates the tragedy, between January and August 1945 within sight of Allied victory in the Pacific War, that befell 2 428 prisoners of war that had been forced under the most atrocious conditions to build a military airport – on the site of the airport from which we were to shortly depart! The Visitors Centre portrayed the atrocities of death inflicted upon them – starvation, overwork, beatings and punishments; the three forced marches - “death marches” under brutal physical conditions of over 1000 POWs to Ranau, which lay 260 km away in the mountains. Apparently, Yahya’s grandmother had a vivid memory of it all as her husband had been beheaded by the Japs after he was accused of acting as an informer. As a result, she has an intense hatred of the Japanese, understandably so, as do many of the local people who recall having to hide their womenfolk in the jungle or in rolled up carpets to avoid them to being raped by Japanese soldiers.

     

We considered ourselves lucky to have had Yahya as guide. He took us to the airport, checked in our luggage for us and the company S. I. Tours even stood us to lunch. 

Our trip was all over, we were on our way home, Mission Accomplished.  We had not only found Pongo pygmaeus, the jungle dweller … but many other strange and wonderful creatures in the jungles of Borneo. We felt greatly refreshed by the whole experience that had been chosen as a forward thinking and distracting adventure for our journey home. Saddened at the same time by the fact that we would never be able to share our stories with Justy. She so enjoyed monkey stories and the one at the Drunk Monkey would have appealed to her too! 

We still had a night in Kuala Lumpur to look forward and three days in Penang before landing in Perth at the unearthly hour of 2.00 am in the morning where poor Sacky would wait to meet and take care of us.  

Notes:

1.     It goes without saying that we made a bad mistake going to Borneo without a decent camera nor a decent pair of binoculars! Consequently, several of the pictures used above are photographs taken of other people’s photos. Not knowing the origins of them we have been unable to acknowledge the source.

2.     For the expense outlaid on medication and the dire warnings of malaria, there was actually no reason to have worried about it. We never saw a single mosquito and even came across one family from Birmingham (UK) that, acting on the advice of their doctor, had been told to take no precautions at all.

3.     Before our departure the threat of leeches and need for “leech socks” was also overstated – Other than the tree planting on the bank - all the walking we did was on boardwalks and only one leech was seen by Lea when the man in front of her, put his hand on the railing, straight onto a leech as we walked along the boardwalk! 

  

4.    Should any of our readers wish to visit Sandakan in N E Borneo we would advise them to go directly to S. I. Tours (http://sitoursborneo.com/web/)