No Stings Paradise

Derawan Island, Indonesia (map)

In this blog: travelling through rural Indonesia, staying on a tropical desert island, swimming with jellyfish, manta rays and turtles, and a spot of diving.

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Beautiful Derawan island

Our guesthouse built on stilts in the water - idyllic

Wild plants, short palm trees and mangrove forest on the shore of the huge brown river with mountains in the background. Tin huts, lagoons and small inlets visible every so often briefly. Fishermen wearing Chinese hats in small wooden boats. 

This was the view from the cramped speedboat we were on, heading from the island of Tarakan upriver on a long and disjointed journey en-route to the Derawan islands. The three 250hp engines chucked the boat along at a decent pace, whilst I watched with disbelief as some fellow passengers wore coats whilst I sweated profusely in the fairly humid near-30° heat. We reached the town of Tanjung Selor, and Rene (my Canadian travel buddie) and I headed to catch a share taxi to Berau, being told to wait despite everyone including the driver being ready to go. And for an hour or so for no particular reason we waited. Welcome to Indonesian time.

Finally we were on the road, heading through heavily logged hills which seem to have since been abandoned, now just covered in green scrub and burnt-out tree stumps. Very simple wooden houses raised off the ground lined the road which you could easily mistake for chicken shacks - even after India I was slightly shocked by this basic existence that these people lived. The road surface was sometimes good but often terrible - full of potholes and undulating as if the tarmac had been laid straight onto fresh mud, and the driver insisted on playing loud cheesy dance music all the way. We stopped at a remote cafe - a bare bones chicken shack which seemed to sell only dry old fish from a glass case and instant noodles. We stuck with the noodles thanks. Eventually we entered the city of Berau, looking in disbelief when our car passed a couple of men casually selling a few guns beside the road. What! Who knows what the story was there.

The driver dropped us in what seemed a very random spot and after a few minutes of confused charade-like exchanges, he made a phone call and almost miraculously a taxi then showed up. We were quoted £7 (140,000 rupiah) to hire it for the next 2.5hr journey to reach the port. It seemed too good to be true - we were sure we would be fleeced at the other end somehow, but unbelievably it was fine. 

At the little coastal town of Tanjung Batu we reached the port hoping to take a boat to our final destination of Derawan island, but it was now dusk and turned out to be too late. We decided to head to find a guesthouse but having no luck after half an hour of walking, a couple of locals then took pity on us and kindly offered to drive us a mile or so out of town on their scooters, so we took them up on it. We were taken to the most basic of guesthouses - so basic there was no sink and just a bucket shower, and a nights stay cost £1.50 each including a tea and donut for breakfast! We asked the owner where we go to eat that night, and without even knowing our names just handed us his scooter keys and pointed along the road to a cafe. Such trust and kindness.

Derawan Island

Bright and breezy the following morning we arrived at our home for the next few days - the tiny island of Derawan - after an exciting half-hour speedboat ride. To our surprise this was an island dominated by locals rather than tourists so unlike say Thailand, where the residents grew weary of Jonny Foreigner decades ago and just want your cash, the folk of Derawan were always full of smiles and 'hello misters' as you walked past. In fact most tourists who visit are on holiday from other parts of Indonesia itself, and we only saw six or seven foreigners in four days. Tourism often corrupts locals, but Derawan seemed as wholesome as it ever was.

We soon found an idyllic spot to stay - in a line of brightly painted terraced huts built on stilts out to sea, where both the front and back doors open to a deck on the waters edge - one of the best locations I've ever stayed in for sure.

It was warm but grey and dull, and we went for a wander to explore. The island is small enough that you can lap it in under an hour but we took our time, passing through a smart resort, a modest Muslim graveyard, and past the islands power station which surprisingly comprised mostly of solar panels - very progressive for a small third-world island I thought. We explored the beaches which were clean and extremely quiet and palm trees swayed overhead, which of course qualified it instantly as a proper tropical island. On a wooden pier nearby, kids tried fishing with line and unbaited hook and I sat to watch the shoals of fish swimming below, as well as gazing at the other islands in the distance, before without realising it dozing off for twenty minutes. This leisurely pace of life was as infective as rabies it seemed.

Walking back across the island on the sandy dirt roads, we passed the colourful wooden homes of the residents which were all tidy and well kept, and young kids played freely outside. Despite the small size of the island people were buzzing around everywhere on scooters, and strangely age didn't seem to matter with boys and girls as young as eleven taking to the roads in twos or threes. It was like real life Bugsy Malone.

Snorkelling

The waters around the island were full of beautiful tropical fish and coral, so that afternoon we hired a mask and snorkel and went for a look. Tentatively walking out through the shallow water I saw a stingray for the first time - the Steve Irwin killer - darting around and then hiding under a rock. The nearest coral to shore had been destroyed by dynamite fishing (yes really!) but further out was much better. There was lots to see, and with Rene's expert help I spotted lots of trumpetfish, boxfish, triggerfish, a miniature lion fish, sea urchins, batfish, a giant clam plus loads more besides. 

The highlight however was getting to swim with turtles - we spotted seven in total that afternoon, gliding gracefully underwater, and we were able to just keep up when followeing them. Getting out at a pier along the shore, we decided it was a perfect spot to jump off the two metre high deck, again, and again, and again. Rene mastered the backflip whilst I was satisfied with just learning to dive, which after a rather painful bellyflop I eventually somewhat did. Great fun.

Boat trip

This was truly a day to remember, action packed all the way. 

Derawan is part of an archipelago, a group of islands, and after a lot of asking around we'd managed to group up with two Taiwanese girls, Miow and Sushu, to charter a speedboat for the day to see a couple of them. Along with our divemaster and all the diving gear, we squeezed into the little boat and roared off into what was initially nothingness, just a flat empty horizon. After an hour or so later we reached Kakaban island which looks a little like a magnifying glass from the air thanks to the saltwater lake in it's centre. 

With our diving gear on we left the speedboat into the deep blue below. This was my first dive as a qualified scuba diver, having completing a PADI course a couple of weeks before so it was liberating to be able to move about of my own free will without instruction. A few hundred metres away from shore, the shallow water dropped down suddenly, and we followed the near vertical wall of coral downwards to as deep as 22m below sea level. There wasn't a great deal of fish and he light was a bit dull, but there was  some huge fan corals and interesting features to see anyway.

Stingless jellyfish

After the dive we walked inland over a rocky volcanic ridge to the lake at it's centre - a very special lake, for this was one of only two places in the world where you find stingless jellyfish. With no natural predators around, these jellyfish evolved over hundreds if not thousands of years to loose their sting and are now completely inert.

Despite all you've been told about them being harmless, it's very difficult to make that first move and actually touch one of them. Just like doing a skydive or cuddling a tame tiger - you know it should be safe but your brain won't quite let you do it without having a wobble first. But once I did it was a very special and perculier experience. 

Jellyfish have no eyes so you'd often just feel one bumping into your skin accidentally, strange at first but you get used to it. Once you touch them with your fingers you find they feel just like silicone; all rubbery and squidgy and you soon find yourself picking them up and moving them around like pawns on a chessboard. Rene went as far as kissing one, but reckons there was actually a tiny bit of sting in it - enough to get him on the thin skin of his lip! As tempting as it was to stay all day it was time to get back in the boat and head onto the second island - Sagalaki. 

Despite the dark skies and rain, Sagalaki still looked beautiful - a small uninhabited coral cay that I managed to walk right around in twenty minutes. We snorkelled just offshore for a while where there was a great variety of fish and coral to see, and on the island itself we were shown a crate containing a dozen baby turtles which were born that morning, who wriggled around much faster than you'd expect of a creature so stereotypically slow. 

The grand finale for this big day was one to equal the jellyfish though - swimming with manta rays. The seas just off Sangalaki are known for these huge, very strange looking flatfish, which have the shape of a stealth bomber but the majesty and grace of a bird as they move along underwater, and they can grow to huge wingspans, apparently up to seven meres. We were fortunate enough to be able to spot one from the boat and jump in to swim alongside it - this one was about two metres wide and easily outswum me. After bobbing around for a minute or two I was suddenly faced with three of them coming towards me - despite their size they're completely harmless, but I didn't know that at that moment! Upon spotting the approaching pack I tensed and really wasn't sure what to do so hurriedly shuffling sideways, only for them to change direction and take off. Phew.

Almost horizontal

It was 6.30am and I rubbed my eyes, wondering what was going on as cheesy ballad music loudly blasted through the guesthouse. I tired to ignore it but it was impossible so stepped onto the balcony to see a lone builder next door merrily painting away. I felt a bit rude telling the locals what to do, but I'm sure I wasn't the only one rudely awoken and after a bit of sign language via his next door neighbour all was back to normal in Camp Derawan. The ignorance!

We decided to have a day of nothing to make the most of being on this desert island, which as ever turned into two days. Listening to music in the shade, drinking tea, watching purple crabs climb the decking and boats passing by and looking at divers heading out to sea, and reading my book - this was all Derawan demanded of me and for that I was grateful. We hung around some of the time with a proper Australian lady in her forties who stayed next door - Marie - who was a air stewardess for Quantas. She wasn't the brightest nor seemed to listen to anything we ever said, but it didn't really matter as she was good fun, kind and friendly. She was also very helpful when I stepped on a sea urchin in shallow water - a spiky creature that lies on the sea floor that is covered in sharp venomous spikes, which was a painful moment. With a bucket of hot water and a pair of tweezers all was soon back to normal though.

I spent late afternoon both days reading on the beach to the south of the island, leaning against a huge piece of driftwood. Barely a soul passed by in two or three hours, except a couple of large local groups of women and girls who wanted their photo taken with me - just as I found in India, foreigners are truly a novelty in this part of Indonesia. The sea was so calm to be almost mirror like, and only the odd fishing boat put-putting it's way across the horizon broke the view and total peace. It was heaven, a level of relaxation only being on an island can bring.

Fishy business

Finally in this extra-long, slightly smug (sorry), but hopefully not too tedious blog, I thought I'd mention the food. With little forms of employment on the island but fishing it was no surprise that seafood was plentiful. We ate seafood every lunch and tea time for £1-2 a meal - at different times crab, battered calamari, cuttlefish in sauce, baked whole fish, fried shrimps, garlic coated squid - all served with rice and side dishes and all fantastic, though dissecting the crab required the skill, dexterity and patience of a surgeon, which I'm most certainly not. 

The Derawan archipelago was a proper pain to get to so I'm not surprised it's off the tourist trail, but that makes it as fantastic as it is and I hope it stays that way for anyone who make the effort to get there.

Indonesia - so far, so good.

Swimming with turtles - a great experience

Stingless jellyfish

Swimming with stingless jellyfish - very bizarre

Coral during snorkelling

Local ferry/speedboat to Tanjung Selor

Kids playing marbles at Tanjung Selor

Speedboat to Derawan island

Baby turtle, hatched that morning

Tiny Sangalaki island

Main street on Derawan, where nothing seemed to ever happen

Leaving Derawan. Local ladies wanted their picture taken with us!

In Indonesia

Tarakan island, Indonesia (map)

In this blog: arrival in Indonesia, a stroll about town, and a backstreet karaoke bar

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Malaysia to Indonesia ferry

Arrival in Indonesia

A country of over seven thousand islands, the fourth largest population in the world, and so many volcanoes you could call them a little greedy - I've arrived in Indonesia. 

Huge and dissected by the equator, Indonesia is as diverse as countries get and could really be a collection of countries - it's a bit like if you were to include France, Estonia and Bulgaria as part of the UK. Having heard about this country over the years thanks to said volcanoes, sweat shop clothing factories, ferry disasters, the huge population, illegal migrants into Australia and so on (all negatives!) I've had it on my rough plan since the start. 

Our travel gang is now down to just two with the other pair jetting off in different directions, and I'm now travelling just with Rene Boulanger - a 24 year old Canadian from the city of Edmonton for the next few weeks until our plans take us in different directions. 

To go the short distance from Malaysia into Indonesia meant taking a ferry along the north east Borneo coast since there's no connecting roads. We set off from our previous stop in Tawau, Malaysia and rushed to catch the 10.30am ferry only to find the info we read was wrong and it didn't actually leave for another hour. Having rushed I was now a sweaty mess, and stood in the departure lounge on my own under the ceiling fan desperately trying to cool down, whilst Rene made friends with a German couple who were heading the same way as us. 

The ferry was dead quiet and surprisingly nice inside, with every passenger curiously handed a complementary can of soya bean drink as a refreshment. The journey was uneventful bar seeing loads of bamboo platforms way out at sea, which looked like oil rigs but were actually some sort of fishing platforms we guess. 

We passed hundreds of these mysterious looking platforms - for fishing?

We neared the docks in Tarakan and the excitement set in. Whenever I arrive in a country I always love those first moments - rapidly taking in how everything looks, the sounds, smells, the buildings, signs, people, whether it's calm or chaotic. In this case it was mad. We docked in Tarakan and for some reason had to clamber along the outside of the boat then across the deck of another whilst eager porters pushed past to unload the various luggage and small cargo on ours. It was back to chaos, but only briefly thankfully.

First impressions of Indonesia 

Tarakan is an island a little way off the coast of mainland Borneo, and for us just a necessary stepping stone for travel to the mainland. After passing through immigration, the four of us stood outside and looked at each other with the look of 'what now?' since neither guidebooks nor the internet had yielded any information on this out-the-way dull little place. English seemed to be less commonly spoken straight away. We agreed a price for a taxi and found ourselves ripped off straight away, when at the other end the driver told us the price agreed was for just two people and not the four of us. With each of us only £0.60 out of pocket, it was a fairly painfree lesson in vigilance.

Everything looked a tiny bit downtrodden compared to Malaysia, but not nearly as much as I expected. We went to the ATM and excitedly withdrew 1 million rupiah each before remembering it was just £50, then wandered around for half an hour looking for a place to stay within our price range. We found nothing but expensive business hotels so asked a young security guard outside an office block. He racked his brains for a moment then despite being on duty, in broken English kindly offered to drive us to find a place. We could tell he had no reason to fleece us, so hopped in his people carrier and after a couple of attempts he soon found us a perfect little hotel down a side road near the airport. The bed even had a sprung mattress, something I'd barely encountered for months, heaven! The staff barely spoke any English, and it was obvious foreign guests were as rare as hens teeth there, as they made a proper fuss over us and even asked for a group photo with them the next morning. A picture was building that after an easy few months of people being able to speak my native tongue, things were about to get a little more difficult. 

Backstreet karaoke 

That night after dinner the Germans suggested grabbing a beer somewhere so we went for a wander. None of the local shops sold alcohol, but a guy pointed down a road at a building before slowly riding his scooter to lead us as we walked behind. It was a strange looking bar - more like a warehouse or a nightclub from the outside, and we tentatively wandered in. It soon became apparent this was not a normal bottle shop or a bar. The walls and ceiling were completely black save for interestingly a load of Guinness banners, and the lighting very dim. There were no tables to sit around, and instead we were led to one of the bench seats which faced a projector screen at one end of the room like a cinema. This all looked and felt very strange, and it soon became apparent that we were in fact in a karaoke bar - something that is popular throughout Asia.

We were given a warm beer each (you have to ask for cold apparently, pah!), and a slip of paper - 'write your song here' the guy said. We had no intentions of doing karaoke, but he was persistent so we caved. There were only fifteen of so locals present including a ladyboy or two, and most of what they were singing was awful Indonesian ballads. Even the security guard came in from outside and had a go, in fact he probably had the best voice of all. The choice of western music was fairly limited but I soon found a couple of crackers which on reflection were strangely fitting - Green Day 'Time of Your Life' and Metallica 'Nothing Else Matters'. Us three lads collaborated on the microphone singing our hearts out, and received an applause from the small crowd at the end - it was a lot of fun. Very few foreign tourists pass through Tarakan, and I can't imagine any have ended up in this little backstreet place making it all the more of an authentic local experience. As far as karaoke can be called a local experience anyway. 

Karaoke time - we stuck with the English songs

Me, Christoffer and Rene giving it some beans

Back at the hotel we exchanged details with the Germans and talked blogs - they told of how they'd had custom graphics professionally designed for their blog, bought a new MacBook Air computer for it's weight and power, upgraded their GoPro camera from last years version, and travelled with four other cameras, with her writing and him editing their photos and videos along the way. It was all very professional for a pair of backpackers, a little too much I wondered, and further proof that Germans can't do anything by halves! They were a very nice couple and you can find their blog here.

Catch up

We had planned to move straight on the next morning since Tarakan was just a transit hub, but late that night we realised we actually had no idea where we were heading for since we'd not read too many details about the country. With a nice hotel to chill in, we decided to stay another day. Rene read everything about Indonesia he could, whilst I sat in a near trance in the cafe next door for much of the day, tapping away at the keys to catch up on writing.

In-between and after though, we went for a little stroll to sort a few things. Along the main road through town poor locals sat beside the road every couple of metres, selling petrol in one litre drink bottles for passing motorbikes despite a petrol station not being too far away - a desperate looking existence. Motorcyclists passed quickly shouting 'hello' and 'hello mister' to us, the only white boys in town being an obvious novelty to them. I bought an Indonesian SIM card for my phone with guesswork being the order of the day for picking one, and nearby was was surprised to see a few bakeries, where I bought some strawberry flavour banana crisps out of curiosity, which tasted like deep fried sugar and little else.

Tarakan was a gentle and fun introduction to Indonesia, the people were friendly and helpful, and I was filled with promise that it wasn't going to be mad, dirty and chaotic as the odd person has suggested to me before. Let's hope this wasn't just a pleasant blip.

With a local ladyboy, or manlady, or drag queen.
Orr just man who liked makeup. We weren't sure!

Rene, myself, the hotel manager, Christoffer and his wife Kerstin
The hotel manager was desperate for a pic with us,
they don't see many (any?) foreigners there it seems

Photos - Brunei and Malaysia II

Grab a cup of tea and sit back - for here's a couple of recent photo albums

Brunei - here

Malaysia II - here

No Facebook account needed to view them

Final Thoughts On Malaysia

I had no plans to come to Malaysia on this trip, and when I did decide to, it was completely last minute and only supposed to be for a couple of days. This somehow ended up turning into four and a half weeks which is partly a testament as to what a nice country Malaysia is to visit, but also due to the fact I meant such a good gang of other travellers at the start in Kuching who I spent the following month travelling with. 

Such a last minute change of plan might seem very unplanned but that's half fun of travelling - the spontaneity that isn't possible in 'real life', the fact that you're free to go wherever the mood takes you. It's good to have a rough plan, but even better to screw the plan up and go the other way.

The Borneo gang in Mulu National Park

I'd spent a couple of days in mainland Malaysia five years ago so knew roughly what to expect, but my time here surpassed those expectations by a long way. It's a nice country with nice people, good infrastructure, interesting sights, and a level of order you wouldn't expect in what is still classed as a developing country (though not for too much longer realistically). It was a refreshing contrast from my travels in India beforehand, in particular the lack of rubbish, conmen and noise, but ironically despite this, India is still in my mind the country I'd recommend first as a travel destination - it's just so interesting and different. The crazy encounters I had there on a daily basis just don't happen in Malaysia, and despite it making travel here a little more boring, is defiantly a good thing for the people who inhabit that land.

Malaysia is calm, mostly clean, and well developed, though in rural areas there are clearly still a lot of poor people living simple lives, and I say that without really getting that far off the beaten track to see real rural life.

British influence 

The British colonial influence is very obvious in many places, and English is commonly spoken to a good standard as a second (sometimes first) language by many people. As ever, I question what colonial-era Britain did to countries around the world, but from what I understand in Malaysia is was generally good, and helped it develop to what it is today. Certainly you only hear people say good things of Britain, and their love of English Premiership football is bigger that any foreign country I've visited - all over the country you see people are wearing club shirts, driving round with stickers on their cars, and see people watching the game in outside cafés.

Food

These outside cafés are everywhere, and very popular among locals for a cheap meal. The food is part native, part Chinese and whilst I've found it to be nice enough, it can eventually get a bit boring and repetitive - I much preferred Indian food (see, there into again). Despite the seemingly endless combinations of rice or noodles served dry or in soup, beef or chicken, this veg or that veg, this sauce or that sauce... it all seems a bit samey - it makes me realise just how varied our diet is at home these days. That said, I had some excellent stuffed rotis - an bread freshly cooked and stuffed with whatever you fancy, had some great fried chicken and fish, and loved the fact that Chinese Bau - stuffed steamed breads are available everywhere as a snack.

Kota Kinabalu

People

The population is a mixture of native Malays who are the most dominant, as well as Chinese and Indians who have emigrated over hundreds of years, and I found them all to be really nice people - friendly, helpful, and always willing to help. At no point did I get annoyed or insulted, irritated or conned by anyone I met, and I felt safe the whole time in Malaysia. Because it's a Muslim country, most women wear headscarves but I never got the impression that the women were treated unequally, or in an inferior way. Whereas in India the woman are often shy and seem locked-away in traditional roles, Malaysian women are very smiley, chatty and helpful

Travel

The country is set up well for tourists, sometimes too well which means things occasionally feel a bit restrictive or over-tourist as a backpacker, though I guess straightforward for a holidaymaker. It's not mega cheap to travel compared to many other Asian countries, beer and supermarket food both being comparable in cost to the UK, but relatively speaking is still good value except for some of the more touristy things targeted at Westerners. Dorm beds were generally £4-6, a meal in a food court £1-2.50 dependant on size, a small beer 50p to £1. If you're driving though, fuel is bargain basement at 40p per litre for diesel, and just a little more for petrol!

Because of Borneo's huge rivers and sparse population, there's not too many roads on the island, and sometimes it was cheaper and easier to take a ferry from town to town along the coast. Buses however were amazingly good quality, and great value at something like £6 for a 4 hr journey.

Group travel

Travelling as a group of four has proved to be a great experience. It was very fortunate that the four of us arrived in the right place (Kuching), at the right time, with similar outlooks on life, levels of energy, and places to visit in mind. The long narrow shape of Malaysian Borneo naturally means people follow a similar path unlike in India where backpackers were often going in many different directions, if you met them at all.

I've always said in the past that four people is too much to travel together and I still believe that for longer term travel, but for a month it worked out perfectly well. We were different enough to make things interesting and learn from each other, but not different enough that there were clashes of personality. Tof was by far the most laid back and generally followed what the others wanted to do, but it was impossible to think any less of him for this since he was such a funny, likeable and pleasant guy. Max, the youngest of the group at 21 was a clever guy who'd done a lot in his tender years, and a typical German with destinations read up on, a plan usually in mind, and a phone close to hand to enquire or book things. Occasionally I found this a little too full on, but overall I appreciated it as it was great to not have to organise everything myself for once and he was always democratic with it. Rene just floated along the whole time - he always knew something about everything and had things in mind, and when he wasn't fifty metres ahead of everyone, he was fifty metres behind taking a picture of something, or maybe just asleep upside down somewhere, another great guy to hang around with.

My only beef with travelling as four has nothing to do with these great people, but the fact that with any four people on such a trip you move at the pace of the slowest person, instead of one shop to stop in you have four, instead of one destination in mind - four. It's harder to be alone if you fancy a bit of space, the fact that you don't think for yourself as much means you sometimes miss out on seeing certain things, and you don't get to meet locals in the same way you do on your own. Such things have been documented time and time again, just like the pros and cons of travelling on your own (which breeds real independence) or as a pair (where you can share planning, problems and fun). That said, I feel fortunate that for a month these things never became pressing issues as they could have, and that we had such a good laugh together - the pro's outweighed the cons for sure.

Diving on Mabul island

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THE MALAYSIA AWARDS

Just like at the end of India, I thought I'd again pick out the highlights and lowlights of my time in Malaysia, which goes to prove how different the two countries are since this list is tiny in comparison!

Best Experiences

Winner: Hiking Mt Mulu - the three day trip up the 2,300m mountain was tough, fun, challenging and rewarding in equal amounts.

Runners up: adventure caving at Mulu National Park, seeing the worlds biggest cave at Mulu National Park, DIY rafting at Mulu National Park, watching late night street racing in KK, night nature walk at Lupa Masa Jungle Camp.

Worst Experiences

Winner: sleeping in open huts on the Mt Mulu hike

Runners up: sleeping on the floor of a bus, being awoken to see an armed Policeman in front of me.

Favourite places

Winner: Mulu National Park - only accessible by plane, and full of wonder and adventure

Runners up: Kuching, Lupa Masa Jungle Camp

Worst Place Visited

Winner: Semporna - we only passed through for an hour or so, but what a smelly dive

Runners up: Tawau

Best accommodation 

Winner: Dillenia Guest House, Miri - modern, good facilities, great owner

Worst Accommodation

Winner: Camp 3, Mulu National Park - a cold, bare floored, open sided hut 1,300m up a mountain

Runner up: D'Cave, Mulu National Park - a lashed up, large open-door dorm room which was noisy. Amazing views though!

Most Shocking Moments 

Seeing live chickens wrapped in newspaper for sale in a market, Sibu

Seeing live tiger prawns being sold in plastic coke bottles, Tawau

Waking up to see an armed Policeman stood in front of me on a bus, Lahad Datu

Best things about the country

Tropical rainforest everywhere

Huge meandering rivers

Huge caves

How developed it has become

How laid back it feels

The people

Worst things about the country 

Deforestation

Palm oil plantations

Rubbish in some smaller towns

Samey food

Things I expected but didn't see:

Wild Orangutangs - only saw them in a sanctuary

Other wild mammals - I expected to see more in the wild

Things I saw that I didn't expect:

The huge variety of exotic looking insects

A pit viper sleeping in a tree, Lupa Masa

Poor people in basic wood huts, Mabul Island

The End of the Road

Tawau, Malaysian Borneo (map)

In this blog: the last day in Malaysia, the end of the travel gang, and a flying trip to a national park.

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Tawau is the end of the road, both metaphorically and literally.

A bit of a grotty little city in the north East of Malaysian Borneo, Tawau is located literally where the main road along the north of Malaysian Borneo ends - Indonesian Borneo is just over the border nearby and the next nearest road is a hundred miles with nothing but jungle between. It's also the end of the Borneo travel gang - the group who I've been fortunate enough to have travelled with over the past month - German Max is heading to Japan, and Belgium Tof is off to the Philipeans, leaving just Canadian Rene and I to head over the nearby border into Indonesia in a day or two. So no, end of the road doesn't mean I'm heading home - there's more wandering in me yet!

The final breakfast - Myself, Belgium Tof, German Max and Canadian Rene

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After our diving trip, we left the coastal town of Semporna (aka Stinkporna thanks to it's unpleasant aroma of rubbish and fish), and took a minibus seventy miles away to another coastal town - Tawau. It was a nice sunny evening, and we drove through nothing but palm oil plantations for the whole journey. Green and pleasant, but awful compared to the tropical rainforests they've replaced. 

Tawau was a dull concrete box city with slightly grotty backstreets and a rubbish lined seafront. It's definitely not a tourist destination in it's own right and isn't like the other more pleasant Malaysian cities we visited further west, but serves as a handy jump off for the ferry to Indonesia and the nearby airport. It was by no means hell, but it wasn't paradise either.

The lack of decent cheap accommodation meant we stayed in an ageing guesthouse with peeling paint on the walls, but very pleasant and helpful Chinese owners who made up for it. As it was Tof's last night, after dinner at one of the many outdoor food courts, we grabbed a beer and sat on a picnic bench by the rubbish-lined waterfront. When we arrived, a friendly Malaysian family was just finishing off a KFC to celebrate Mother's Day, and talked to us in broken in English for a few minutes before giving us each a slice of chocolate cake, which was nice of them. The four of us then sat down and yarned away for an hour or two, picking out our highlights of our time travelling as a group, a nice end to a fun month travelling together.

The following day we'd planned to go to Tawau Hills National Park, but with other distractions somehow didn't end up leaving until 3pm, saying goodbye to Tof at the bus station on the way. It was a bit vague how to get to this park, with some people saying you can bus it there, and others saying it was taxi-only, which we found to be the case in the end. Our driver was a guy in his early sixties who spoke very little English and considering he does it for a living; a terrible driver - his face glued to the windscreen, foot on and off the throttle all the time when not constantly braking unnecessarily or getting us lost. We got there in the end after again passing through nothing but palm oil plantations, though with only a couple of hours of daylight left to actually see the park.

The palm oil plantation literally went right up to the ticket booth where we paid - there's no land wasted here, and just a few metres later we were in tropical rainforest. Like our other recent experiences in the jungle, we came across ballworms on the ground (which roll up like a hedgehog when you touch them), macaque monkeys, the sound of a thousand cicadas filling the air, and our good friends - leeches - I managed to attract about ten of them this time, though removed them all pretty easily without any blood shed. One even hung about and got me in the car afterwards! 

The world's tallest tropical tree, Tawau Hills

A surprise highlight was that the forest contained the tallest tropical tree in the world - 88 metres tall and a real beast with huge buttress roots. Nearby, we heard the call of gibbons, though didn't managed to spot them. After a nice walk through the jungle along the river, we went back to the park HQ, and sat watching the monkeys fighting with each other, whilst we listened to the soundtrack of the jungle. It wasn't long enough really, but we were satisfied anyway.

Back at Tawau, we went out for stuffed rotis (bread) and a farewell drink for Max, stopping to look in a Chinese run outdoor cafe on the way where their live seafood was packed tightly in tanks, including Tiger Prawns which bizarrely appeared to live their whole lives in 1.5l Coke bottles. We bought a beer at a little shop across the road, and the owner held out an identical bottle of Tiger beer in each hand. 'This one 15 ringgit, this one 9 ringgit' he said. We were a little perplexed, they were identical, so was one a fake or maybe out of date? No - 'this one with duty, this one without' he said - in this shop, tax evasion was your own perogative!

So there we have it, even in a town as dull as Tawau there were still a few things to keep us amused. Tawau wasn't the most beautiful memory of the end of Malaysia, but fortunately the other great things we saw and did over the past month easily push it into the shadows. Indonesia here we come!

Tawau Hills National Park

Live Tiger prawns in Coke bottles - pretty nasty

PADI

Mabul Island, Malaysian Borneo (map)

In this blog: a rude awakening, learning how to scuba dive, and swimming with turtles.

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I felt someone pulling my leg. 'Steve, wake up' Tof whispered, sat on the floor of the bus whilst I sat asleep on the reclining seat. It was 3.30am and I was now in that period of confusion you get when awaken prematurely. I rubbed my eyes, then looked up and understood why Tof woke me. A couple of metres front of me in the passageway of the bus stood a Malaysian Police officer with an M16 assault rifle strapped across his chest. Was this some weird dream? No, this was really happening. 

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We were on a nightbus heading for Semporna, having got on at the small service town of Renau. There was only one bus, and with diving booked for the next morning we had to take it, the only trouble being that there were no seats left - 'that's fine, you can sleep in the passageway' said the driver, and before I knew it we were on board, the wheels were rolling, and having had no time to think I had no choice but to lump it.

I hate night buses; you miss out on seeing great scenery but most of all, I can never sleep properly on them. Reluctantly I tagged along with our Borneo travel gang who wanted to save time and money by doing it this way instead of the day bus, but once onboard I wished I hadn't. After half an hour of talking and laughing about what was happening, the reality hit me - I had eight hours ahead of trying to sleep on the slippery lino floor of a bus which was constantly twisting and turning on the windy Borneo roads, with no bedding and just a small air pillow. Whilst the bus itself was really high quality, the floor was as you might expect a terrible spot to snooze and after three hours I'd not slept a wink. At a service station the driver very nicely cleaned the toilet, only to walk back along said passageway with his sopping wet shoes leaving marks everywhere. Our beds! We dried the floor ourselves, but I was extremely grateful when soon after, a couple of passengers got off at their stops and I could take finally lay back on a recliner and eventually doze off. Until the point as mentioned earlier when like the other passengers, I was rudely awakened. 

We were at a security checkpost and as far as I know it was just a routine search since we weren't too far from the Philippeans. The Police officer worked his way back the bus asking for everyone's ID, and firmly without being rude looked at my passport and blurted 'what's your name?', 'why are you here?' 'where are you going?' before promptly moving on. When he posed these questions to Rene, he joyfully ended with 'welcome to Malaysia'! It wasn't scary, but was certainly unexpected. As if this didn't wake us up enough, the bus driver insisted on continuing to play rock and dance music through the bus speakers all night long. Oh, the ignorance! Why, oh why, oh why.

Mabul island

Gone diving

We arrived at Semporna at 5am, and sat half dozing in a 24 hour cafe nearby for a couple of hours before heading to the office of Billabong Scuba - for we were going diving. After an introductory dive in Jordan last November, I was really taken by diving - the sight of the beautiful coral, the exotic fish, the sensation of floating stresslessly deep underwater. However, unlike the other guys I was travelling with, I didn't have the necessary PADI licence to be able to dive in anything other than playschool conditions, so I decided the time was now and signed up for a 3-day PADI Open Water course, thankfully getting on a course there and then thanks to a cancellation. At 8am, we were on a speedboat heading forty-five minutes out to the small island of Mabul, our home for three days.

It turned out to be a pretty small island; you could walk right around it in twenty minutes, and it was fringed by shallow sandy waters which later dropped off suddenly into the ocean. It was a slightly strange place in that almost all the buildings including our hotel stood on stilts in the shallow waters, which stood side-by-side to the homes of very poor locals who etched out a living fishing in rickety little boats. I felt uncomfortable walking around the village, not cause of safety, but just in the knowledge that whilst I was swanning about in comfort able to spend my day at leisure, these poor folks lived next door in such basic living conditions. It's a situation westerners often face in developing countries, but you just have to deal with it - it's not your fault and it's not theirs, we just live in two different worlds.

The first day of the course was theory based, and along with a great young Malaysian couple who spoke English as their first language (as some do), we watched the cheesy course DVD, then spent a few hours reading the course material. Diving is safe if done correctly, but can be dangerous if not so we learnt about how to plan a dive, who to go with, the required equipment, the composition of air and a thousand other things. Having not used my brain that much in the past ten months, it was a little frazzled by all the information come the diving quiz at end of the day.

Getting ready to dive

Dive 1

The second day we could finally get out in the water, but not after we'd been taught how to set up our own equipment, a fairly complicated and intimidating affair initially, but very straightforward once you know how. The three of use were taken on the dive boat by our instructor, Wong, who was of course always right (sorry), to a fairly shallow spot the other side of the island where we sat on the edge of the boat, and were told to simply fall back into the sea. In the water were taught how to use the mouthpiece (regulator), how to descend and ascend by adding or removing air from the jackets, how to remove water from your face masks whilst underwater (simple really), and how to get the right boyency. A basic but fun first dive.

Dive 2

After lunch we went out again, this time learning how to use someone else's mouthpiece (regulator) if you run out of air and how to safely ascend to the surface afterwards, amongst other exercises. We went for a short fun dive after this, and were fortunate enough to see two large turtles resting on the sea bed, one of whom gracefully swum off once we woke him up, which was a pretty special experience.

Before dark we independently went out snorkelling just offshore, where I saw the weird-looking trumpet fish amongst others, and again saw and swum above a large turtle for a while. Whilst I'd been on my course, my travel buddies of Max, Tof and Rene had been on a trip out to the nearby island Sipadan, which is regarded as one of the top five best dive spots in the world, and that night the showed me the videos, inducing one of how they came within metres of fifteen hammerhead sharks; some experience.

It was time again that night for more reading and revising, followed by a final exam. My brain was out of memory and 10pm was not the time to be doing exams, so I gently protested and managed to persuade them to let me defer to to the next day. Phew.

The final countdown

The last day at Mabul we set our for the third dive, which entailed some more advanced training such as removing and refitting all your dive gear underwater, and swimming without your mask amongst other things. It was all fairly straightforward, and most of it prepared you for emergency situations rather than just basic diving. 

'I'm OK'

On the fourth dive it was finally time for a bit of fun - training was over, and we were taken out to a spot where the shallow sandy plateaux suddenly dropped deeply into the sea leaving an steep wall of coral. We were free at last, able to do and see what we wanted and it felt great. The coral was reasonably varied, but the fish a little limited in variety but I didn't care, it was just great to have the knowledge and freedom to dive as you like, and we maxxed out at 15m below sea level. Back at HQ I finished off the multiple choice exam which thankfully I passed, and before I knew it that was it, we had to leave.

It had been a very different few days of this trip. A bit taxing on the grey matter but still relaxing in between, and we met some interesting folks from Holland, Malaysia and Australia who were good to chat with. The diving had been enjoyable despite the fact it was training, and the snorkelling a nice diversion especially being able to see the turtles. I look forward to being able to dive again soon away from the shackles of education, and with a ferry crossing into Indonesia coming in the next few days, it might not be too far away.

Stilt chalets on Mabul island

With our instructor, Wong - left

Former exploratory oil platform just off the island, 

now converted as a dive resort - novel idea

Mabul island as you approach

Heading out for the final dive

Starfish

In Hot Water

Lupa Masa Jungle Camp, and Poring Hot Springs, Malaysian Borneo (map)

In this blog: a stay at a remote jungle camp, a night walk, and some boiling hot springs

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Somewhere in there lies Lupa Masa Jungle Camp

With three days to fill before a diving trip on the other side of Sabah - the state which covers the north east of Borneo - our Borneo travel gang decided to head half way there, stopping on the way at the town of Poring where there was a couple of fun sounding places of interest. Natural hot springs and a stay at a remote camp sounded potentially amazing, but for once we left feeling a little blasé about the experience. 

We started out from the city of Kota Kinabalu around lunchtime, the weather being reasonably humid but a just pleasant-enough 30°, with a few clouds in the sky and a light shower late in the afternoon - a fairly typical day for Borneo. We left much later than planned - it seems to take forever to get going from somewhere when you have a group of four people of different paces - and then squeezed into a modern Nissan minibus along with a couple of locals, which set out along flat forested coastal plains before winding it's way up into the mountains. Logging was even more more prominent than the past few weeks leaving ugly scars all over the green rainforest, the mountains were higher than we'd seen recently, and we passed fairly primitive tin and wood hut villages, and roadside markets. A poorer side to a Malaysia than I'd seen before. 

After three hours or so we reached the service town of Ranau, and as we had to find our way up the dead-end road to Poring, got out to find the local minibus and taxi drivers immediately vying for our business though not with any of the urgency and desperation that I saw in India. With all of us having recently travelled in Asian countries where taxi drivers try their hardest to rip you off, we instinctively were all on high alert and bargained for the journey, but it turned out it wasn't really necessary as ripping-off isn't really a part of the Malaysian mindset. Arriving at the tiny hamlet of Poring way later than planned, we skipped the hot springs for the day, found a hostel and relaxed for the evening. 

Scenery on the bus journey there

A 53 year old lone Aussie backpacker was already in the dorm room; a cheery bearded chap called Rob who claimed to have spent the past thirty years on-and-off backpacking around the world. A character with this sort of experience often means in-your-face stories, one-upmanship, disgust at the use of guide books and other such snobbery, but Rob was very self-effacing - a really nice chap, and we all shared stories equally over dinner in a local cafe that evening. He's nearing the end of a year-out to travel most of south-east Asia and had some interesting stories to tell, having passed through the odd dodgy area. I was surprised to learn he travels by religiously visiting only the list of highly-recommended places in the Lonely Planet guide book and nothing else - something I thought only travel newbies did, as it often puts you on the beaten path that everyone follows, and whilst I prefer to forge my own route it does make sense in many ways.

Into the wild

A few days before in KK, a local had recommended visiting a remote spot in the jungle where thanks to deforestation in the surrounding area the wildlife population was more concentrated than you'd expect, so the next morning it was off into the jungle for the night at the nearby Lupa Masa jungle camp. After some patchy communication, the Camp manager met us in Poring to lead us to the camp, the man in question being a tattooed, dour, miserable Scottish guy in a football short called Mike who having formerly worked as a roofer and been made unemployed, changed career completely, married a local Malaysian girl, learnt jungle survival skills and now ran the camp on behalf of a British guy who owned it but never visited. 

Mike gave no introduction of himself, just some grunts and a snappy response to something he didn't like. His misery was infectious, and on the walk through the jungle we were all glum and silent, ocasionally looking at each other wondering why we'd bothered. He later told us that he was the perfect guy to run the camp as it takes a certain person to live so basically, his only flaw being that he had no people skills. He'd also not slept the night before. At least his honesty was refreshing even if he wasn't.

With Max, Rene and Tof, Hanging out in
the lounge area at Lupa Masa

Leaving the tarmaced road in Poring, we walked for forty-five minutes up pleasant narrow paths through the jungle, crossing bamboo bridges over streams and ditches and passing through a small banana plantation in a clearing, before finally reaching Lupa Masa - an isolated small collection of simple bamboo huts near a river - a really beautiful spot. Mike then became even less helpful, vaguely telling us of a couple of things to so before disappearing out of sight whilst we relaxed in hammocks, chatted and for some dozed for a couple of hours on a raised wooden deck. The nearby river was wild and untamed, and a good place to do some rock hopping and bathing in it's pure waters. We found a strange pleasure in the tiny fish which would nibble lightly at our feet and legs when you stood in the less turbulent shallow waters. There was a small waterfall nearby where you could stand underneath and even sit behind the falling stream, with the water falling with a weight that felt like a cross between being pummelled with stones and a therapeutic massage.

With the vague directions Mike gave us, along with a lovely French couple who were also staying at the camp, Belgium Tof and I headed off for what we were told was an hours loop walk through the jungle. The scenery was fantastic and it was a very pleasant walk, but the lack of clear directions meant we really had no idea where we were going and ended up turning back after an hour or so, having seen a few insects but none of the mammals we hoped for. We were all feeling a little deflated by evening, having expected an expertly led, all-inclusive jungle experience, so thankfully after a nice communal dinner of sweet and sour veg with rice, a night nature walk lifted everyone's spirits.

Night walk

Manager Mike led the group of us back along the familiar paths we'd been on in the day but things looked very different now. With his powerful head torch he scoured the jungle for things of interest, first of all spotting a palm civet, a small jungle cat with big eyes, sat high up in the trees, followed by a frog hiding motionless between some rocks, and a couple of large spiders sat on leaves. Looking up at another palm civet, someone suddenly realise right above our heads were four very pretty birds sleeping on a branch, a nice surprise. Further along was a lizard sleeping on the end of a small branch, positioned so as to easily detect the motion of any advancing snakes which might try and nab it in it's sleep. 

It was around this time that a felt an odd sensation and reached down to investigate, finding that a leech had somehow latched onto my leg, climbed up the inside of my shorts and attached itself to a very sensitive area! It was ever man's worst nightmare, but thankfully it had only freshly arrived and not yet had chance to do any damage so was fairly easily removed with a pinch of the fingers. Close call!

Pit Viper sleeping up a tree. We didn't wake him!

Near the end though things got much more interesting when he spotted a small green viper snake sleeping up a tree. Wow we thought, until five metres later we spotted an much bigger beast - a pit viper, sleeping curled up along the branch. It was a heck of a sight and finished the evening nicely. Back at the camp some went to bed, some chatted, and Mike tried to demonstrate how to start a fire using the traditional method of rotating one piece of wood on another using a string bow, completely unsuccessfully after nearly an hour. He'd better keep hold of the matches for now.

Sleeping on a foam mat in a tent under a bamboo canopy was a novel experience even if I didn't sleep amazingly well, and waking on a sunny morning to hear the river flowing nearby was very pleasant. After breakfast and another swim in the waterfall the next morning, we made our own way back to Poring village, heading for Poring Hot Springs. 

Hot springs

The Japanese historically aren't well liked in Borneo thanks to their brutality in WWII, and their development of the natural sulphurous hot springs one of the few positive things they did for the island during their control of the island. However the hot springs I visited in Japan a few years ago were head and shoulders above these, and we all left a little disappointed. One pool had water at air temperature, another so scaldingly hot you could only put your lower legs in for a few minutes, and the open air tubs pointless as you had to fill them yourself which would have taken most of the day had we bothered. There was just enough novelty value to keep us happy though, and it was a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours.

With a mixture of indecision and lack of information about bus times onwards, we whiled away the afternoon using the wifi in a nearby cafe, before it was time to get a lift to the nearby town of Ranau to hopefully catch a night bus to our next destination. It seemed every local was a taxi driver, willing to take us back along the dead-end road at an inflated price and eventually we hopped in with a pleasant chap in his fifties in a battered old Toyota, who had dance music cranked on the stereo, something which seemed very out of character when you looked at him. 

The tunes blasted out the whole way to our delight, until a mile or two from our destination the music changed, and he said 'ah, this is one of my daughters'. We couldn't help what came next, our hands involuntarily clapping along together to the music whilst we laughed hysterically - the song? 'If you're happy and you know it clap your hands'. It was a ridiculous but but fantastic moment, and I was left reflecting that the mildly disappointing couple of days hadn't crushed our spirits after all. I guess we were happy and we knew it. Clap clap. 

Huge dead cicada

Digs - tens under a bamboo canopy

Night nature walk

Night nature walk 

Four birds sleeping on a branch above us

Baby tarantula!