I still don't know what to make of this place

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Ok, so the trip over to Borneo didn’t start out the smoothest. I left Singapore with lots of time to get over to Johor Baru in order to catch my flight to Miri. But…I got stuck in traffic leaving Singapore, stuck at the border when the Malaysian authorities ran out of immigration forms, and then once I got through, I couldn’t find the bus station that would get me to the airport. Lonely Planet gave this great little piece of travel advice on saving money by taking the bus, but the departing location was not on the map. Go figure. So, in order to insure that I didn’t miss my flight, I flagged down a cab and decided to spend an extra couple bucks in order to cut the stress down. At 30 ringett, I thought that the price was fair and appreciated that the initial price was not something exorbitant, so without the usual bantering back and forth about the price, I just accepted his bid and got on with the trip to the airport. I should explain that the usual motus operondi of SE Asian taxi drivers seems to be quoting a price 5x what it should be, feigning surprise that you don’t want to pay this, and then ‘conceding’ by stating, “OK, how much you pay?” At this point I would usually inform then that due to their greed and attempt to rip me off, I “pay them absolutely nothing” and then I shut the cab door. However, today I didn’t have time for this, so I was doubly appreciative of being offered a fair price. Unfortunately, in keeping with true SE Asian form, the airport was practically in a different region of the country, and the road to get there was clogged with traffic. By the time we got to the airport drive, it was within minutes of the check-in counter closing. Then, of course, the driver does not have change for a note that is 3 times the 1 trip fare, so we have to go find change. I rush up to the check-in for Air Asia, but the counter with my city’s name on it is nowhere to be found. I hope in line for the Kutching flight, and ask the lady if she can get me my boarding pass. I am then informed that Air Asia does not have any flights to Miri that day. So, I hand over my ticket confirmation, after which I am informed that “Sir, this ticket is for yesterday.” What da you know; she was right. So, I find out that they fly to Miri every other day, and that since they flew yesterday, I only had to wait until the same time tomorrow to get there. Not wanting to repeat the experience the next day, I resolved to stay at the airport and read until my flight, which was now about 23 hours away. Thus, I settled into a comfy chair in a fast food restaurant (I kid you not, this was a nicely upholstered arm chair in a McDonalds type establishment). There was just one such chair in a Sea of uncomfortable ones, so I ordered one of the cheapest items on the menu and read until they closed later on that night. I found a ‘string’ of chairs upstairs at the ticket sales area that were all attached in typical airport style, but thankfully missing the usual armrest barriers. I curled up there and rested until the airport police came by to let me know that they were locking up for the night. Oh well, the airport was on the smaller side, so it should not have come as any great surprise that it didn’t stay open 24/7. However, this was a perfect opportunity to utilize my splendid hammock investment. Being a developed country, Malaysians install wheelchair ramps in public places. The outside ramp leading up to the airport drive from the parking lot had a perfect u-shaped turning area that was the perfect width for hanging the hammock on the handrail. So, I slept for the night and then got up when people started arriving for the first flight. There was a hidden cheap eatery downstairs under the departure area of the airport, and I grabbed a bite to eat there first thing. I think the hot girl working at the counter there thought I was kind of on the cute side too. When her boss tried to charge me 6 ringett for breakfast, she ended up yelling at him and my total changed to 3 (not a bad price for a tray full of airport food). A good life lesson for me: be nice to people and they will fight your battles for you. Well, maybe that is a bit of a stretch, but the moral of the story is along those lines. And then, without further drama, I boarded my flight to Borneo.

Since Sarawalk is a semi-autonomous province, it has its own passport control. Rather random to be within a country and go through passport control and get another stamp. Which brings me to the numerous stamps from Malaysia; I entered from Thailand, Indonesia, Singapore, flew to Sabah, and then went to Brunei and stepped back into the country before flying to the Philippines. I got very good and filling out the immigration forms. But enough about that, onto the new semi-autonomous region of Malaysia. While waiting for the bus at the airport drive, another helpful soul made an appearance in the journey. I found the airport bus stop. Only problem was that there was no schedule listed, and I was the only one from the last few flights waiting for a bus. This, without the help of Sherlock Holmes, lead me to believe that the bus was not a local favorite means of transport. Now, I had just spent about 24 hours in the other airport, so really, time was not of the essence. But still… Enter helpful person. A

woman asked me if I was waiting for the bus. I answered in the affirmative, which prompted her to tell me that her friend that she dropped off had mentioned that she should give me a ride since the bus may not come for a long time. Ok. I initially had Chiang Mai esc related hesitations about accepting, but had a much different feeling about this gal then the other man. Turns out, she had a bible on her dashboard. Not a sure thing, but surely a good bet. She dropped me off at a hotel that she knew was about 100 yds from my guesthouse. Within 30 seconds of walking toward the guesthouse, I ran into someone from the guesthouse who was out getting groceries for tea. Since the guesthouse is apparently hard to find, she took me to it. Honestly, the guesthouse was great, but the city didn’t have a whole lot going for it. Not that I really expected it to. And, after the all too complicated process of flying over to a different part of the same country, I didn’t feel like doing much anyway. So, I stayed in and watched pirated DVD’s with a couple from Sweden. The Da Vinci Code and Blood Diamond. The next morning, I took the multiple buses to get to BSB. The country really reminds me of Southern Florida: swampy, little canals and a really lush jungle. The 3 busrides that took 5 ½ hours proceeded without incident, until I was 10 miles from the capital. Our bus’s transmission went out, and we ended up stranded for a grand total of 15 seconds before our driver saw another bus coming and flagged it down for us. He refunded the fare we needed for the other bus. Honestly, never expected to have this kind of experience in a country with so much oil money. The only other country where my bus broke down was Cambodia, and even there they were able to get that one going again. I will say this for the drivers though, nicest bus drivers of the whole trip. They know exactly where backpackers want to go, and move one right along to the next bus in the journey to BSB. I even got dropped off at my hostel, the only hostel in the city (run by the government). While it was nothing luxurious, it did have air conditioning, and came in at a little under $6 USD a night. Reception clearly had the thing down to a science. I got a bunch of glossy brochures when I checked in, and the run down of the do’s and don’ts. I started my exploring with the National Museum. Amazing place, wish they would put up some more signs directing people towards the entrance. I found two other tourists wondering around outside trying to get in. We found it by walking close enough to the wall that the frosted glass unsigned sliding door opened. Really a cool place to wonder for a bit. It was free, and an amazing showpiece for the grandeur of the kingdom. However, despite this and a few other cool buildings, there is not that much to do in this city of just under 300,000. Contrary to the official government publications, the national mosque was closed to non-Muslims both on Friday (Muslim day of worship) and the day before. Other than admiring the outside of the mosque, taking in the nice museum and walking around the small city, BSB does not have that much to offer. And yet, it was cool. It was a little piece of sovereign randomness in the middle of Borneo Malaysia that is, as so many Asian t-shirts say, “Same same but different.” It is its lack of anything terribly different that makes this city so cool. Sure, they have a huge palace (that one can only visit during a two day yearly holiday) and some buildings commensurate with a country that hosts a sultan worth Billions of $$$, but overall, it is just a little enclave that seems out of place in the middle of the jungle. Not worth spending extensive amounts of time in, but fun to visit for a day.

The most direct way of getting over to Kota Kinabalu is by ferry. Of course, my ticket didn’t include the 1 Brunei dollar terminal fee, so I had to bribe the soldier at the fee collection counter with almost a dollar in Brunei pocket change and 1 USD just so I could catch my ferry. What is it with these Asian people and feeling professionally obligated to compartmentalize the passage fares into subcategories paid separately? I would ask but I fear that any accurate answer I got would just point to some corrupt decision a while back. Honestly,

is there any healthy reason for airport tax, terminal fees etc to be paid in cash as one heads to the mode of transport rather than when one buys a ticket? I digress.

Kota Kinabalu may be a solid base camp for seeing the surrounding sights, but the city itself, other than the fact that it is a large city on the coast, really does not have that much to offer. I stayed at the very comfortable Step-in Lodge, and then flew out to Manila the next day.

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