Advertisement
Published: January 26th 2008
above the clouds
view from the balcony at "base camp"The National Park leaflets for Mount Kinabalu proudly describe it as "The highest mountain in South-East Asia", but then put in brackets " (not including Papua)". This is a sneaky and cheeky way to boost it's reputation. It's like saying "Madonna is the biggest selling female artist in the world (not including Mariah Carey)". Or, "I am the fastest runner in the world (not including Ben Johnson, Lynford Christie.. etc)" The reason for excluding Papua is that the three highest mountains are found here. So technically, Mount Kinabalu is the fourth highest, which is far less impressive. However, it does stand 4,101m tall, and I climbed.it. And let me tell you, it's no pushover. (I could have just written 4,100 metres for the height instead of 4,101m, but the last metre was the most difficult to climb, and so warrants inclusion)
The night before climbing Kinabalu, we all ate a "Steamboat" dinner. This is a fabulous concept, which is thought to have originated in Mongolia, but is also very popular in China. In the middle of the table is a gas burner with a large pot on top. The pot is divided into two halves, one containing a chicken broth,
ready for action
Rita, Brenton and Kimmy P are primed for the climb and the other a spicy "Tom Yum" style broth. Scattered around this pot are plates containing raw ingredients. One plate contained chicken strips, beef, prawns, squid, fishballs and pieces of white fish. Another plate contained fresh rice noodles, thick wheat noodles and beansprouts. Yet another contained spinach and other assorted greens. Then in small dishes were minced garlic, ginger and chopped chillies. You throw any cobination of ingredients into the broth of your choice, leave to cook, and then serve in bowls as a tasty noodle soup. The liquid is plentiful, and as you cook more stuff, the flavour becomes richer and richer. You also get eggs, to crack into the broth and serve as poached eggs, or to swirl round to thicken the soup. Delicious.
The next morning we set off with fresh legs and bulging daypacks. Although it was hot and humid at the bottom, the summit would be freezing cold, and so I had packed my sexy thermals, sweater, fleece and windproof coat. Plus everyone had assorted sweets, biscuits and cakes to help our ascent and boost our waistlines. Tania was our main source of sugar, having packed a two-kilogram bag of boiled sweets. During our
Mount Kinabalu
the view from our plane as we flew over it ascent, we kept hearing Tania cry out "does anyone want any lollies?" For those of you who don't speak Oz-lish (the language of Australian mixed with English), lollies are sweets. I actually picked up a lot of Oz-lish on my trip from my travelling companions, mainly Jaime.. eg instead of something being fantatsic, it's "heaps good". Someone who is a nutter is a "whack job". Previously, the main Oz-lish I had learnt was from Alf Stewart on Home and Away, and Dame Edna Everage.. But apparently no-one in Austalia actually says "strewth", no-one calls anyone a "flaming galah", and certainly no-one calls anyone "possum".
Anyway, back to the hike. Day one was tough. There were two initial routes, and we were following the harder one. The terrain was tough, we were always going either up or down, and there were hardly any flat parts. We were climbing over tree roots, large boulders, as well as manmade steps which were built for giants. It was very tough on the knee joints, and halfway up, I busted my right knee. Thankfully Kimmy P came to the rescue and donated her walking stick to me. Then Tania and Rita came to help,
the summit looms behind us
still a long way to climb.... and bandaged my knee. I could not bend my knee much without pain, so I developed a technique of using my left leg to lead, and then drag my right leg up each step, with the help of the stick. It sounds slow and awkward, but I soon got into a good rhythm.
After almost NINE hours of climbing, we reached our overnight lodge at a height of 3,300m. Tania's bag of lollies was down to one kilo. I call this an "overnight lodge", but that is a very loose term. Sleep was minimal since we had to get up at 1:30am to start the climb to the summit. In fact, for me, sleep was non-existant. I had two cups of tea early evening, and this was my downfall. Everyone else was shattered and went to bed in our dormitories by 8pm. I went to bed shortly afterwards and tried to sleep, but my caffeine-laden head was having none of it. So I put my MP3 player on to help soothe me to sleep. I listened to two Ricky Gervais podcasts. Still awake. I tried entire albums by Kate Nash and Jack Johnson. No luck. I listened to Morcheeba
my poor aching legs
Bandaged and carrying a walking stick. This is what happens when you get to your mid-thirties and Zero 7. Still awake!! Then everyone's 1:30am alarms started going off. How could I climb a mountain on no sleep? The Answer - by eating a power breakfast! The lodge was serving a pre-climb breakfast buffet, so I tucked into cereals, fried rice, fried noodles, french toast and dodgy sausages. This was washed down with a litre of industrial strength coffee. I was ready!
And so we set of in darkness, a trail of headlamps snaking their way up the mountain. It was slow going, and plenty of people overtook me and my dodgy knee. But I was determined to make it to the top. Apparently a bloke with a prosthetic leg made it to the top of Everest. If he could do that, I could make it to the top of this little peak with my gammy leg. Everyone was motivating each other, and in the distance I could hear Tania shouting "does anyone want any lollies?" I was fine for lollies, although if someone could have produced a chairlift, I would have been very happy. I reached the summit just before 6am, groaned a sigh of relief and almost collapsed. It was cold enough to freeze
a tough climb
after five hours climb already, our legs were aching the balls off a brass monkey, and I was wearing all my layers. There was a sign at the top, to indicate you had reached it. I think it was pretty obvious that we'd reached the top. There was nowhere else to go! But to my suprise, next to this sign was a bloke, completely naked except for a snorkel and mask!
Now, back to that phrase, "cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey". Do you know where that phrase comes from? There is a widely circulated explanation which some of you may have heard. During the 18th century, Naval ships stacked their cannonballs in pyramids on top of a grooved brass platform known as a "monkey". In cold weather, the brass stand would contract, casuing the balls to fall off the top of the pyramid. Makes sense? No, it does not. This explanation is a load of bollocks. Brass bollocks. Let's examine the flaws in this:
Flaw 1 - No-one in their right mind would store cannon balls in a pyramid. At the first sign of rough seas, if the base tipped by more than 30 degrees, the balls would fall off. People have
at the summit
it's 6am, we're freezing cold, but overjoyed to have reached the top after eleven hours of climbing pyramids in their minds because that is how pirates store them in cartoons
Flaw 2 - The expansion coefficent of brass is so low, that the temperature would have to drop by a ridiculous amount to even shrink the brass by one millimeter
Flaw 3 - The Navy used wooden boards with holes cut in them to store cannon balls. Not brass. And these holders weren't even called "monkeys"
No-one actually knows the true origin of this phrase. It may just be a vulgar phrase coined by illiterate sailors, much like "cold as a witch's tit in a brass bra". Anyway, enough of my random ramblings (for now).
Three hours later and I’m back at the lodge, tucking into my second breakfast of the day. More calories, more grease. In fact, enough grease for me to simply slide down the rest of the mountain. If only it was that easy! Immediately after breakfast, we headed down without any further rest. We all cursed the mountain on the way down. “Damn this mountain”, “why did we sign up for this?”, “I’m never climbing another f***** mountain again”. Thighs were aching, knees were creaking, and morale was scraping the ground.
dawn breaks
A smile from Rita, despite the long descent ahead Tania had done Everest Base Camp several years ago, and she said this climb was tougher. The terrain hadn’t been harder, but the pace had been tougher. Everest, apparently, is a well-paced multi-day hike with plenty of stops for rest and acclimatization. Whereas we had just hiked for twenty hours in one-and-a-quarter days, and had ascended to 4,100m metres without acclimatizing. But we made it, and felt a fantastic sense of achievement.
After the hike we stayed in a dormitory at the “Poring Hot Springs Resort”. A few of us went for a late night soak in the springs, to the delight of my legs. The majority of our group were limping, and to get down stairs we had to do this strange waddle, which must have looked hilarious to anyone watching.
This part of Borneo was home to the world’s largest flower, the Rafflesia. It is a parasitic plant which has no roots, stems or leaves. It is rare, but can grow anywhere, and having no season, can flower at any time. However, each plant will only grow one flower per year, and this flower only lasts a week. This flower can grow up to a metre
the long trek down
going down was almost as hard as going up. The knees were suffering... wide, and weigh as much as ten kilograms. It also smells like rotting flesh, to attract insects which it devours. One of the local men knew where to find one, and charged us an extortionate fee to see it. After a short stumble through the woods, we found our prize. It was quite impressive, although was probably only half a metre wide. But try and use it as a buttonhole, and you’d probably fall over. We found out later that this might not have been it’s original location. Sometimes the locals find a flower miles away, and transplant it somewhere closer to reap money from the tourists.
By our resort was a canopy walk, which was quite cool. I said the most ridiculous thing at the top though. I heard Brenton say something about being 400 metres high. I thought he was talking about the height of the canopy platform. I then looked across at a tree that was more than twice the height we were stood at. “If this platform is 400m high” I said, “then that tree over there must be almost a kilometer high”. Brenton then pointed out the canopy is only 20 metres high, and
the flyfish crew
wet, battered and tired but still smiling! I realised my stupidity. A tree that is one kilometer high?? What was I thinking.
Next we headed back to Kota Kinabalu, where we spent the next day on the island of Manukan. Here we discovered a fabulous aqua-adventure known as the Flyfish. You’ve all seen the “banana boat”, an inflatable yellow sausage which is pulled behind a speedboat while people sit astride it and hang on for dear life. The flyfish is similar, but takes things to another level. It is an inflatable platform made up of three banana boats joined together, and up to six people can ride on it. The speedboat tows the flyfish at high speed, running into the wind. The wind gets under the platform, and then the whole crazy contraption takes off! The boat then slows down and speeds up, causing it to slam into the sea and then fly again while you try and hang onto the straps on the back! And when it takes off, this is no gentle flying carpet. The whole beast almost goes vertical, making it very difficult to hang on. Exellent, excellent fun.
We also spent some time relaxing on the beach. I like the beach,
but one thing I HATE about the beach is the sand. Unfortunately, it's also the main thing that defines a beach. I hate putting on more suncream and finding sand on your skin. It becomes an exercise in exfoliation rather than skin protection. And if you manage to cover yourself in suncream without coming into contact with sand, the wind then blows and covers you with a fine layer once again! (and of course, water resistant cream is the usual choice, but how do you wash it off your hands?) So we all discussed possible replacements for sand, and came up with the following alternative beaches. An astroturf beach? It would look a lovely shade of green, and you could play golf and cricket on it. A leather beach? Hmmm, not a winner this one. Too expensive to build, and would get too hot in the sun. There were some others, but I think we're stuck with the basic, sandy beach for now.
Whilst in Kota Kinabalu K I bought some cheap, under-the-counter DVDs, which included the latest cinema releases like “I Am Legend”. In some countries, the quality of these DVDs are terrible, filmed by some bloke in
a mosque outside Kota Kinabalu
Islam is the predominant faith here the cinema with a camcorder. But these seemed to be the real deal. They were crystal clear, had subtitle options, deleted scenes and special features. How did they got hold of these? The DVDs would not even be out in America for months. It was only the covers gave the game away that these weren’t originals. The covers had perfect art, cast listing, copyright statements etc. But they had used really inappropriate review quotes! For example, on a copy of “Derailed” (starring Clive Owen and Jennifer Aniston) was the following quote from a film magazine
“A servicable thriller with a limp twist. Aniston and her "friends" should have renewed their TV contracts”
You would not use this to advertise a DVD!
One night in Kota Kinabalu turned out to be a monster session, where we got back at 3am and started splashing around in the hotel pool. I must apologise to Jaime - she passed out sitting in one of the lifesaving rings and was drifting around the pool. She was too good a target to resist, and she woke up spluttering when I tipped her ring over. Sorry about that. The funniest part of the evening,
the biggest flower in the world
The Rafflesia. This was about half a metre across however, was actually the taxi ride home. We caught a Kareoke Cab! The guy had a small TV screen in the front of his car, and we were singing the Greatest Hits of Lionel Ritchie all the way home. Oh what a feeling, when you're dancing on the ceiling.
And so this part of my Borneo tour was at an end. It was time to say goodbye to Kimmy P, Brenton, Lovely Rita Meter Maid, Steamboat Sally, Haylo and Jaimo. But the rest of us were traveling on. To be continued…
Advertisement
Tot: 0.095s; Tpl: 0.024s; cc: 10; qc: 19; dbt: 0.0593s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Lochaber
non-member comment
Excellent
Kudos on the quality post and excellent photographs. Keep up the good work!