Kota Kinabalu - Holiday in Borneo

To be honest, before booking our trip, I'd never even heard of Kota Kinabalu, the largest city in Sabah, Malaysia's northern section of Borneo. But when I read that one of the hotels in Kota Kinabalu had its own orangutan rehabilitation centre, I knew we had to visit. Angela and I arrived at the huge international airport courtesy of Malaysian Airlines from Kuala Lumpur, and as we taxied in, I couldn't help but be excited at the thought of being in Borneo.

Borneo is actually made up of three countries: Malaysia, Indonesia and Brunei, and is the third largest island in the world. Before arriving, I'd always imagined Borneo to be a place of unspoilt rainforest, of steamy jungles, of headhunters, and of wild, exotic creatures, but as we drove along the main highway, my imaginings were clearly slightly skewed. I could see no rainforest as such, only large expanses of palm trees, which because of the oil they produced, had replaced the rainforest. There were certainly no headhunters about but there were plenty of people. Some sat at roadside stalls peddling fruit and vegetables, others sat in ramshackle cafes, shaded from the sun under corrugated metal awnings.

As we drove onwards, large billboards advertised luxury apartments but underneath them were tiny shacks, often built on wooden stilts. We soon hit the countryside which was dominated by yet more palms, but this time with a backdrop of hills and mountains. Not far was Malaysia's highest mountain, the appropriately named Mount Kinabalu.

The Rasa Ria Shangri-La Hotel was opulence to the extreme. It had its own private golf course for God's sake, as well as its own private beach. The hotel had been built a considerable distance from Kota Kinabalu town, and therefore gave the impression of being totally secluded, which it actually was. But the resort had one incredible plus point, and that was the orangutan rehabilitation centre which was part of the hotel. Angela and I wasted no time in securing ourselves a place on a viewing for the following morning. For the rest of the afternoon we idled about doing nothing in particular except watching a gorgeous sun setting over the South China Sea.

That evening, while wandering an outdoor walkway within the hotel complex, we came across something lying in our path. At first we thought it was a leaf that had fallen from one of the nearby trees, but upon closer inspection it revealed itself to be a bat. We paused to look closer at the creature, lying there unmoving with its wings outstretched. Perhaps it was inured? Or was it resting? I stooped down and carefully picked it up and as I did so it opened its mouth to reveal a tiny but impressive array of teeth. I placed it in a nearby plant pot, to get it out of harm's way, but was surprised when the mammal immediately clambered out and flew away into the night.

The next morning we made our way down to the nature area of the hotel complex, and with forty or so other people, we watched a short DVD about the rehabilitation process for orangutans. It started with the destruction of rain forest, the natural habitat of the orangutan. Angela and I were shocked to learn that over seventy percent of Malaysia's rain forest in Borneo had been chopped down to make way for palm trees. Inevitably the orangutans were the losers in this game, with many infants becoming orphans in the process. This was why the rehabilitation centres had become so important. They taught these young creatures how to look after themselves, how to forage, and how to survive. After the DVD ended, a ranger took hold of a microphone and addressed us.

“There are five orangutans at this rehabilitation centre, all aged between three and five years old. Of the four stages of rehabilitation, this centre caters for only Stage One. Once our orangutans complete this, they are sent to Sepilok Rehabilitation Centre for the final three stages.” Sepilok was the most famous of the orangutan centres in Borneo and was Sabah's top tourist destination after Mount Kinabalu. “Okay,” said the ranger, “now we'll take a short walk into the forest until we reach the viewing platforms where hopefully you will see some of these beautiful creatures. Follow me please.”

The steep walk up the forest trail was only a short one, but I was still sweating like a pig when we arrived at the viewing platforms. Everyone crowded together, cameras at the ready, while the ranger stood some distance away with a bucket of fruit. We were told to keep quiet and while a hush descended, the ranger cupped his hands and shouted something into the forest, presumably to entice the orangutans to come to feed. Silence followed and so after a moment the ranger repeated his call.

Suddenly there was a loud rustle of branches, and our collective sense of anticipation was turned up a notch. The ranger spoke again into the forest and we all craned our heads towards the treetops, hoping to catch a glimpse, even a tiny one, of a precious ape. But there was nothing, only the occasional sound of snapping branches. Ten minutes later we were finally rewarded. “There!” someone said and we all swiveled our necks to catch our first sighting of an orangutan. There it was, high up in the foliage, and then it was gone.

I lowered by camera and rubbed my neck. Some small children behind us were getting restless, crying and fidgeting. Another ten minutes passed and the only thing keeping us going was the odd snatch of ginger fur high up in the forest. “They should have a small child on standby for situations like this,” I whispered to Angela. “Get him in the orange suit and make him run through the undergrowth making monkey sounds.” The ranger, perhaps sensing our disappointment came over and explained that maybe the orangutans had seen a snake and this could explain their reluctance to come down.

But then, incredibly, one orangutan decided that the lure of melon was greater than the risk of serpent attack, because it quickly descended a tree trunk, swung Tarzan-like across a rope, ran up to the bench where the ranger was now sat, and grabbed one of his fruit temptations. He then quickly clambered up a tree and disappeared from sight. This spectacle belittled the actual translation of the word 'orangutan'. Old Man of the Forest that little chap certainly wasn't.

As well as the brave fruit-grabbing orangutan, there were two others in attendance, but they kept themselves high up in the trees, moving with speed through the branches, or else hanging off them like trapeze artists. They were a mischievous pair, and while the third orangutan attracted our attention by climbing down to ground level again, the two above snapped off a large branch which began to fall through the trees towards our heads. It flipped and turned but thankfully missed us, causing much hilarity from everyone. Meanwhile the one at ground level jumped into the ranger's arms where it curled itself around him in a manner so cute that everyone immediately forgave his naughtier pals.

The ranger produced a bottle full of juice which the orangutan greedily drank from, rather like a baby would do from a bottle. The whole scene was amazing, more so when we remembered that these animals were essentially wild. With the infant ape still clinging onto the ranger, we all made our way back down to the hotel grounds, happy with the whole experience.

The following day we paid a visit to Kota Kinabalu town, a large urban sprawl clogged with traffic. It was a modern city, with a smattering of skyscrapers, but its best feature was its location on the edge of the South China Sea. It was a clean but haphazard city. “It's like they just decide they need a new bank or something,” said Angela, “and just build it in the first place they come to.”

We visited a few malls that specialised in knock off DVDs, mobile phone accessories, and cheap clothing, but growing bored of them, we wandered outside, coming across a busy outdoor market known as the Sunday Market. It was thronging with Chinese goods and Chinese people. Like other markets in Asia, this one had a small section dedicated to the sale of live animals. Puppies, kittens, small rabbits, cute yellow chicks, and baby ducklings were all cooped up inside cages. Just along from them were tortoises and turtles lying at the bottom of dirty buckets, some reaching upwards with their tiny flippers. Angela could hardly bear it and we were soon out the other side, staring at one of the few actual sights of Kota Kinabalu - Atkinson Clock Tower.

During the Second World War, Kota Kinabalu was razed to the ground by allied bombing. Even so, some buildings survived, and Atkinson Clock Tower was one of them. Built in 1905, it was named after FG Atkinson, the first district officer of the town. It stood high up a hill shrouded in dense forest. Needing a drink, we made our way to a cafe, and while Angela went off to look around some shops, I went to the counter to place our order.

“One latte and one small bottle of orange juice,” I said. The young woman smiled, nodded and set to work. A doughnut came first, which surprised me, but I didn't get chance to query this unwanted addition because the girl had already moved to the coffee machine. She returned and put the latte and orange juice down on the tray. I gestured to the doughnut. “No doughnut,” I said, but the girl smiled and said the doughnut was free. She then passed me the bill. It made no mention of the doughnut but did have an item called 'glacier' on it.

“Excuse me,” I said. “What is glacier?” The girl couldn't understand me, so I pointed to the bill. She smiled and informed me that glacier meant doughnut. I said, “But I thought you said the doughnut was free?”

“Yes, doughnut free when you buy coffee!” she said, eyeing the other customers waiting behind me. I sighed but was not about to give up without a fight. I asked her how it could be that a free doughnut had cost me three ringgit? I pointed at the offending article lying there on the tray. The girl looked at the lonely doughnut and seemed genuinely confused. “Doughnut free!” she repeated and I finally admitted defeat and sat down with my doughnut and drinks.

Later still, I lost Angela's hat, which she'd given to me earlier to look after. Predictably, I'd mislaid it somewhere, which involved a mad dash through the markets, malls and streets of a hot and humid Kota Kinabalu, retracing our steps. We eventually found it, thank god, and things returned to an even keel.

The day after our day trip to Brunei, we booked ourselves on a little cycling trip organised by our hotel. For thirty-five ringgit each (£6) we were given a bike and a helmet. With about eight other people we set off on a not very strenuous ride towards a village located quite close to the hotel. Along the way we passed mangrove swamps which had a healthy population of tiny crabs, I noticed.

Very soon we began to pass houses, all brightly coloured and made from wood. Small children sat in the shade near these houses and chickens pecked in the dust. Our guide, a young man barely out of his teens, told us that a lot of the hotel staff lived in the village. He instructed us to dismount and we all followed him along a small wooden jetty which jutted out across a wide river. At the far end of the jetty was a platform, constructed on stilts which offered a good view of the river and a small stilt village which had grown around one of its riverbanks. Spanning the river was the largest bridge in Sabah, we were told. A juxtaposition of modern and old, I thought, spying an old man climbing out of a small fishing boat.

We rode onwards to a house to sample some local food and coffee, courtesy a smiling woman who had been waiting on our arrival. We all sat at a large table and were given a selection of food items that the woman had prepared for us. It was clearly a rehearsed deal with the bicycle tour, but we didn't mind as we tucked into them. We all then had a go at cooking a local pancake made with palm oil. Our guide then told us that the coffee we'd just drunk (which was very dark but palatable) was produced locally. He showed us a large pestle and mortar where the beans were ground. For the rest of the day, our last in Kota Kinabalu, we sunbathed; looking out into the azure waters of the South China Sea, and then the next day caught our flight to Hong Kong.

Strengths:
-Friendly and welcoming people
-Hot sunny weather
-Warm sea
-Interesting markets
-Orangutans!
-The Rasa Ria is a bit too secluded

Weaknesses:
-Expensive alcohol
-Traffic jams of Kota Kinabalu town

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Part of trip: South East Asia II

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