When It Pours, They Reign

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How To Solve A Problem Like Monica

Loyal readers may or may not recall a somewhat oblique reference to the slightly scary, women-hating, obsessive-compulsive German ghost lady who our heroes wound up sharing a dorm room with (amongst others) in Kota Kinabalu. Monica was an older lady of about 40-50 years, dressed in traditional white Islamic garb, whose activities consisted solely staying in the hostel all day, bleaching her clothes (including her shoes), and not speaking to anyone. Helen and the female staff at the hostel were less than complimentary in return, but, personable chaps that they are, Louis and Jamie took it upon themselves to make some polite small talk, as she seemed pretty lonely. It transpired that she had been travelling more or less non-stop since 1989, and this despite the fact that she didn't like going out in public places because there were "too many women" - apparently, the female population is outstripping the male, you see (far be it from our ever-polite heroes to disagree). Unfortunately, once they'd started a conversation with her, our heroes found they were unable to extricate themselves from it, to the extent that she even followed them to the bus depot to wave them off. But she wouldn't shake hands, despite the fact that she was wearing gloves anyway.

Every Which Way But Loose

Thankfully, the boys had also met a somewhat less mental bloke called Dan, a freelance marketer and sometime-cameraman from London town with a fondness for massages with happy endings, who was to accompany them to the Sepilok orangutan reserve on the other side of Borneo where Louis had volunteered some four years ago. So our heroes and their newfound friend Dan found themselves aboard a bus bound for Sandakan on the other side of Borneo, with the enticing prospect of a marathon journey ahead of them. Cut to some six hours later and they disembarked at the junction for Sepilok. Eschewing the offer of a taxi in favour of stretching their legs (error), the trio set off down the two kilometre road, laden with bags, just as night began to fall. Queue much nervous scanning of the road by torchlight for snakes and general jumping at anything that moved (Dan mostly - your heroes being much more, well, heroic, as you well know). So, unsurprisingly, when another taxi passed by and an English girl got out and offered them a lift to the Jungle Resort, they, er, jumped at the chance.

The girl in question turned out to be Katie, a finalist from Newcastle Uni who worked at the sanctuary in between terms and bore an uncanny resemblance to Becky Lidster, and it wasn't long before her and Louis were deep in sparkling orangutan-related conversation, much to the delight of Dan and Jamie (Louis even got an invite to go behind the scenes as an ex-volunteer. Many of the staff welcomed him back warmly, before later confiding to Katie that they didn't know who he was. Must be the new hair). Their roommate in the four-man dorm meanwhile introduced himself (in a weird hybrid Australian-American accent) as Turtle, who looked like a stoner reject from Tony Hawk's Pro Skater. Appearances can of course be deceiving; Turtle turned out to be a very sharp, switched-on, and above all friendly guy who'd moved Down Under from the States and alternated between teaching biology and working at Melbourne zoo. Fuelled by rice wine, the group soon found itself engaged in what might almost have passed for an intellectual discussion on the difference between terrapins and turtles (apparently terrapins live in water, whereas turtles live in sewers, eat pizza and use their ninja skills to fight crime).

The next morning, the boys set out for the orangutan reserve, which was all of, ooh, 500 metres down the road. These languid, long-armed simians are probably what Borneo is best known for, and Sepilok's sanctuary is one of the best places to see them, so it's a real honey pot for the Malaysian tourism industry. Being crammed onto a small wooden platform with 100-odd camera-touting spectators still did little though to detract from the enjoyment of watching the orangutans monkey around for an hour or so. The audience was even treated to a second act when a troop of macaques descended onto the feeding station to scavenge for leftovers, fight amongst themselves, and rut furiously, much to the amusement of our puerile heroes. Animals do the funniest things.

That afternoon saw a trip to nearby Batu Four, which translates as "Mile Four". Imaginatively enough, all the towns around Sandakan are named depending on how far away they are from that city, which pretty much tells you everything you need to know about them; row upon dirty row of characterless concrete blocks that the boys would have avoided like bad AIDS if they hadn't needed to use the Internet (connections in Borneo are few and far between, not to mention slower than Matt Damon). A thoroughly unblogworthy expedition, apart from an obscenely cute baby on the bus that developed a fascination with Jamie for some unknown reason.

Back at Sepilok, the cast of characters was further increased by a Californian dude called James with a wry sense of humour and a habit of fraternising with local ladies, a (very) energetic American called Megan, who teaches school on a tiny Pacific island called Guam (?) and English bloke of imposing stature who introduced himself as "Buff". Buff was travelling the "world party scene" so naturally Sepilok was on his list of destinations. Sure enough, that night the group went exploring in search of karaoke, but despite Sepilok's legendary, nay, mythical nightlife, none was forthcoming, so instead James spent the best part of two hours trying (and failing) to teach Buff et al (mainly Buff) a card game.

Uncle Tan's Lost Continent of Atlantis

There are a couple of budget operators that run jungle tours, but Uncle Tan's is one of the more reputable. More importantly, it's also the one that Lonely Planet recommends - standard. Dan put in a call, and a minibus picked the three of them plus James up that morning from the Jungle Resort and ferried them to Tan's HQ. Over a slap-up meal, the guys made themselves familiar with the other intrepid explorers, one of whom was John: a big rugby-player from with a personality to match and a penchant for quoting films (Jamie could soon recite large tracts from Anchorman, despite never actually having seen it). Even the disclaimer they had to sign which explained how the (quote) "Spartan" facilities at Tan's jungle camp were underwater did little to, er, dampen their spirits.

The jungle commandoes-to-be piled back into the minibus which took them some two hours out into the sticks, to a tiny ramshackle riverside village. Backed by palm trees, it was like a scene from Apocalypse Now, a surreality compounded when their pilot introduced himself as Tony Montana. "How'd you get that scar on your face, Tony?" Jamie asked. "Eating pineapple" came the reply.

The boatride took them deeper into the Heart of Darkness - well, into the jungle, at any rate - on a brown, massively swollen river, the result of torrential downpours over the last few weeks (turns out they don't call it a rainforest for nothing). Tan's camp had stood on the banks of an oxbow lake; now it stood in it. The huts themselves were up on stilts, but the raised boardwalks in between were almost knee-deep underwater. Barely visible above the waterline was a volleyball net and some goalposts (presumably football, now water polo).

Uncle Tan's would've been an ace place to stay if the best part of it hadn't been submerged. As it was, what our heroes saw just about compensated for the ordeal of staying there - just. Several river safaris took in everything from orangutans, proboscis monkeys, macaques, gibbons, birds (lots of birds), and monitor lizards (one swimming a little to close to camp for comfort). Our heroes even bravely (or foolishly, bearing in mind that crocodiles and snakes aren't uncommon) went trekking at night in waist-deep water, encountering frogs, spiders, scorpions, and a rhino which turned out on closer inspection to be a wild boar (it was dark at the time). The highlight though had to be a wild elephant (extremely unusual at this time of year) whose trumpet sent them into a paroxysm of excitement topped only by actually seeing it.

When not out on safari though, the conditions meant there was little to do other than sit around and play cards (El Presidente, naturally). To say the facilities were "Spartan" would be something of an understatement - the Asian-style squatter toilets were particularly fragrant. Nor was the wildlife restricted to the great outdoors, Dan discovering that he'd been sleeping on an ant's nest. Dan: "Will 100%!D(MISSING)EET work on ants?" James: "Dude, 100%!D(MISSING)EET will cure AIDS". It's just science.

It's Always Darkest Before Dawn

Sadly, after their time at Tan's it was time for the gang to head their separate ways: well, Dan, at least, who was headed to Sipadan to do some diving. And then there were four. Back at HQ, the quartet enjoyed their last taste of Uncle Tan's haute cuisine (chicken wings for a change) whilst recommending the experience unreservedly to those who were waiting to depart (the mad fools). And it was raining more heavily then ever.

During the squalor of the jungle camp, the idea of a proper, clean hotel with a hot shower had assumed a grail-like quality, and the boys had fixed their hearts on the Mayfair in Sandakan, which according to the Lonely Planet boasted a DVD player in each room and an encyclopaedic film library the likes of which ye have never seen. So imagine their disappointment when the Mayfair turned out to be fully booked (hardly surprising seeing as it was the only place that Lonely Planet gave a half-decent review). But all was not lost: instead they checked in to the Hotel Malaysia, which was decent enough. After some rotis and overpriced Carlsbergs, the gents retired to watch low-rent movies on cable. That anyone would make sequels to Dungeons & Dragons and Airforce One beggars belief; the latter's claim that the US Vice-President is "the second most powerful man in the world" even more so.

The next day, our heroes bade farewell to James and Jonny: truly, it had been emotional. Drying their eyes, they checked in to the fabled Mayfair and gazed in wonderment on the film library. Whole drawers of movies organised by type (action, comedy, monster) and even by star. Schwarzenegger, Stallone, Willis... And yes, that's right, a whole drawer of Seagal movies. Their excitement was shortlived though: Black Dawn turned out to be so bad that it put them off watching any more of the once great man's oeuvre. Steven was now so fat that he'd resorted to using a body double for his fight scenes, which frankly stinks. Even some better fare (Syriana, Ong-Bak, and The Sentinel) couldn't mask the overwhelming stench of skadge: Sandakan is total non-event, a rat-infested dump where pretty much everything closes by 6 o-clock (which is unheard of in Asia). Give it a wide berth, or pass through quickly (ideally whilst holding your nose).

Poring (Not So) Hot Springs

Glad to see the back of Sandakan, the boys hopped a bus to Ranau and then a taxi to Poring. Poring Hot Springs is pretty much what it says on the tin: natural hot springs that have been incorporated into a plush (by Asian standards) tourist-friendly National Park complex. Beyond the wide-ranging compound, there's absolutely nothing apart from a few small eateries and shops. Our heroes rocked up late only to find a slight discrepancy between the price of dorm rooms in the complex as listed in the Lonely Planet - 12 ringitt - and the actual price of 46 ringitt a night. Each. Once again indebted to the LP, our cheap-ass heroes instead haggled their way into the tiny Tong Ling cafe-cum-shop-cum-one-room guesthouse across the street for a bargain 35 ringitt per night between them. The Harry Potter and Spider-Man posters lent it the feel of a kid's bedroom (indeed the boys harboured a suspicion that one or more kids had been evicted in order to accommodate them) but it was clean, the cafe served good Western breakfasts and Asian mains, and the family themselves were lovely, in particular the bemulleted toddler who once again took a shine to Jamie, going so far as to give him a dead grasshopper as a present.

As for the springs themselves, the source of the sulphur-saturated water, which gives it the delightful aroma of eggy farts, is outdoors, so although it's usually hotter than the sun (well, warmer than a bath), by the time it flowed down to the various tubs (both indoor and out) unfortunately the rainfall had rendered it not so much hot as, well, tepid. It seemed that the most entertainment to be had was watching two dogs going at it in the car park, who then somehow contrived to get themselves stuck together facing in opposite directions, when who should roll up in a minivan but Dan! Together again, the trio ambled along the various nature trails (including a spectacular, knee-trembling canopy walkway which included a free special-bonus leech for one lucky traveller), got up close and personal with a placid if slightly depressed-looking orangutan called Jackie who comes down to sit with the workmen on a nearby building site, and had an overpriced and decidedly average burger at the restaurant.

The Englishmen Who Went Up A Hill And Came Down A Mountain

Dan departed (again) for Sarawak and Ko Ching, leaving Louis and Jamie to climb nearby Mount Kinabalu, the highest mountain in south-east Asia. Then again, perhaps conquer would be a more apt term. Or dominate. Or even just plain own. Well, actually, they would have owned it, if the elements hadn't conspired against them...

It went a little something like this: the duo hitched a ride with a fellow cafe-goer at Poring, whose car looked like it had failed the audition for The Fast And The Furious (flames, spoiler, the whole Max Power look). His driving wasn't much better either, gunning it like a good'un and overtaking at every opportunity, especially on tight cliff-top bends where he couldn't see what was coming around the corner (which seems to be pretty standard conduct out here, to be honest).

At the foot of Mount Kinabalu is another National Park complex, with accomodation, restaurants, and all that jazz, where would-be climbers stay and acclimatise before beginning their ascent. The forward-thinking pair had booked and paid for their room ahead of time at the office in Kota Kinabalu, and after checking in, there wasn't an awful lot to do apart from sit in the restaurant, play chess, and dwell on how much fun it wasn't going to be going up in the cold and wet. Morale was low, at least until they discovered themselves to be sharing a room with a pair of bubbly blonde Danish girls, and when they awoke bright and early the next morning it was actually bright (and early) for once: perfect conditions for mountaineering.

The idea is to share a guide amongst several people, and in a rare display of administrative prowess, our heroes found that they had been grouped together already, with a pleasant Danish fellow called Anders and a young couple named Anthony and Mei, who funnily enough they'd encountered briefly as they were leaving Uncle Tan's. Even more funnily enough, when Louis recalled his and Jamie's misadventures at the two KL terminals (and reused the same joke), it turned out that Anthony and Mei had avoided the same fate by reading this very blog! Oh how they all laughed. But then again, it was no real surprise. Our heroes are sort of a big deal. People know them. A short minibus ride later, Team Kinabalu were at the foot of the trail and ready to rumble, although not before admiring the ludicrously quick record times for the Kinabalu marathon - 21 kilometres up and down a mountain in two hours and fifty minutes, anyone?

Thankfully the first leg of trail up was only a mere 6 kilometres, but that was more tough enough, thank you. There were rest stops every 500m, which might not sound a lot, but our heroes can assure you that it is. The terrain was a mixture of big railway-sleeper steps which eventually gave way to rocks, as the rainforest grew sparser the further up you got. It was hard going, and not just physically - any able-bodied person could do it if they go at a steady pace, but the relentless slog of step after step after exhausting step can really get you down. If you're struggling though, just turn your gaze from the path and look out behind you at the view. All around is just a cloud sea - nothing is even remotely as high as Kinabalu - and it's almost like you could just float out and sail away on it, or something suitably deep and spiritual-sounding like that.

Anders sprinted off ahead - apparently in Denmark they leave newborn babies out on mountainsides to fend for themselves with only a pair of sandals - while the rest of the group reached the Laban Rata camp in a creditable four and a half hours, albeit cold, wet (from rain and sweat), and somewhat worse for wear. After drying off and a change of clothes though, the boys felt like a million dollars - which, coincidentally, was the price of everything on the menu, but in fairness though, this is largely because some poor sod has to carry it up there. In fact our heroes had passed several of them on the way, with packs bigger than themselves and calves the size of cannonballs. A spaghetti bolognese and a cup of tea or two (which of course makes everything better) later, it was time for an early night in preparation for the final push to the summit.

The plan was to wake up at the ungodly hour of two o'clock in the morning and ascend to the top in time for sunrise, before descending all the way to the bottom. Team Kinabalu awoke in the pitch black and freezing cold to hear what sounded like a tempest of biblical proportions raging outside the window. They gamely dressed and assembled downstairs, only to be told by their guides that the chances of getting to the summit in these conditions were less than good. They waited until three before setting out in the vain hope that the rain might let up, only to have to turn back on the orders of the park ranger. From Laban Rata to the top is smooth granite, and he wasn't prepared to risk anyone a) being washed off or b) getting hypothermia, and to be honest, neither was anyone else. Nevertheless, it was with a profound sense of disappointment (really) that our heroes retired to bed and descended the next day. Getting as far as they had was still a great experience and thoroughly worthwhile, but it was a shame to put in so much effort and not be able to reach the summit due to forces beyond their control.

Epilogue

After a slap-up English breakfast at a cafe across the road from the park entrance (much cheaper than the onsite eateries), Team Kinabalu went their separate ways. Together with Anthony and Mei, the boys commandeered a pre-paid bus back to Kota Kinabalu and the North Borneo Backpackers Lodge, where they were pleasantly surprised to find it full of people. The next few days were a montage of: sunbathing (badly) on Pulau Sapi, playing cards, watching films, eating at the Vietcafe, buying classic literature, Jamie introducing Louis to some Dickens (he's finding it harder than Dan Brown but will persevere, he says), finally watching Anchorman, plain old convalescing, and, of course, blogging. Oh, and Dan turned up, again (like a bad penny, that boy). Happy endings all round.

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Photos

Sepilok Jungle Resort
Lush.

King Of The Swingers
Jungle V.I.P.

Baby
Cute.

Uncle Tan's
Wet.

Facilities
Spartan.

Jonny
Naked.

Louis & Dan At Poring
Not tall.

Jackie
Dressed in cobras.

Tong Ling's Budget Cafe & Guesthouse
Mean machine. Too fast. Too furious.

Patio Doors
No stickers. Hazardous.

Plastic Bags
What everyone will be in this season.

Anthony & Mei
Bearers of the sacred tea.

View
Big time. Like a sea of clouds...

Mountain
Mountainous.

On Top Of The World
Only halfway in. I mean up. Well, actually it was more like three quarters...

Comments

[Kar Ven]

Proton Sagas
HAHAHAHAHAHA souped-up' Proton Saga with side emblems. God do i miss those ah beng racers

[tasha]

uncle tans
my parents stayed at uncle tans earlier this year, and went ont he night safari, having to wade waist deep in mud. i cant wait!! xx

[Jon]

Bloody good locking fella that Jon
Alright fellas, keep up the Good work. Remeber, you ARE a big deal around here. People know you. I miss your musk Jon

[Auntie Wiz]

old dear-new tricks
so sorry taken this long to make the bloggy thinggy work. Think you boys are marvellously intrepid. In my day it was the magic bus to Greece and you thought you were going some. The other 'intrepid one' is home on 02/03 and making 30 on 12/03. Looking forward to seeing you and the 2 who are 18, plus the strange cousin who lives in a big city down south.(possibly all in one room?) Will keep perusing the blogwhatsit love, your dear old Aunt