I'll Be There Dreckly: Kicking Back In KK

Kota Kinabalu, Malaysian Borneo (map)

In this blog: late night boy racing, a train from Leeds, some pool and plenty of chilling out

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Kota Kinabalu (KK) waterfront 2014

Before WWII, Jesselton was a small coastal town of wooden shacks and palm leaf cottages administered by the British as part of it's British North Borneo colony. After being bombed to pieces during the Japanese occupation, it got rebuilt and is today called Kota Kinabalu (KK). It's a prime example of how far the world has come since then - a clean, green and modern if not slightly anonymous-looking city, with all the shops and amenities anyone needs and could be in anywhere in the developed world. Whilst a little short of character and sights, it was a pretty laid back city and a good place to kick back and catch up for four days after a busy couple of weeks on the road.

In fact kick back was an understatement - with a nice garden room out the back of our hostel to hang out in, the travel gang of Max, Rene, Tof, and I barely seemed to move for the four days. I also found myself following their lead of living life three hours behind; getting up late then having breakfast at 11, lunch at 4, dinner at 10 and going to bed at 2am. Yes, KK was another holiday from a holiday, something that's needed every so often.

Sure I lazed about a fair bit, used the internet, and chatted to some other hostel guests but as ever I couldn't just sit and relax - the first day it was head down for seven hours writing blogs, another full afternoon I spent sorting out and uploading pictures from the past few weeks, another morning making a quick video, and the final morning doing some research and planning ahead. Yawn. Somehow the other guys didn't seem to have nearly as much to sort as I and once again I questioned whether I put too much time into these words and pictures, who knows but I think I'll appreciate it all in the future. It was also good to Skype some friends and family over a couple of evenings, something that doesn't happen often enough due to the need for decent wifi, and the awkward time difference whereby evening at home is the middle of the night for me.

There was still plenty of time for playtime though.

Food and drink

The first couple of evenings we went to a small open-fronted local cafe-bar where they sold the cheapest beer in town, full of curious friendly locals and playing nothing but music videos on the TV by this awful rapper called Pitbull. We walked through the Filipino market one night - an obvious sign of the many immigrants in town since the Philipeans isn't too far away, where as well as all the other usual produce strange looking fresh fish were laid neatly in piles by the many vendors, all shouting over each other to sell sell sell.

We ate in a local Indian owned restaurant near the hostel almost every lunch and dinner time, getting to know the staff so well they'd come straight over chatting away like old friends. They served fantastic roti's - the Malaysian version of the Indian bread, stuffed with egg or meat and even sweet versions covered in condensed milk which numerously looked like KKK hats on a plate. After a few days the limited variations of rice, noodles meats and veg dishes got a little dull and repetitive though, and a trip to a pasta cafe nearby was a welcome break.

In the local caf with local Jesse, German Max,
Canadian Rene and Belgium Tof

Boy racing and beaches

Through a friend of a friend of a friend, German Max met a local Malaysian guy called Jesse, a 26 year old guitar teacher with long black dreadlocks who proved to be a really nice guy. Most evenings he was kind enough to take us out to a few local spots around the city which we'd never have visited otherwise, and we got to see KK in a different way to most cities. The second night he drove us to a pool hall a few miles away in the suburbs - a large modern place above some shops popular with locals, where somehow I became king of the table winning about five games in a row - most unusual and finally proof that all that time in my youth playing pool at my local Colin Park Club was not in vain.

Max had heard talk of illegal late night street racing in KK and was keen to experience it. He talked Jesson into taking us along after pool and at around midnight we rocked up at some traffic lights by an suburban cross roads, and with a few beers and snacks in hand found a spot beside the road to watch. Malaysia has two native car companies which are also occasionally spotted in the UK - Proton and Perouda, and it transpires that the modified car scene is pretty popular here with the main cars being the Proton Saga - a family-sized box of a car, and the Proton Savvy - its runt of a little brother. The drivers grouped together in the lead up to the traffic lights before time after time squealing away head to head and off into the darkness, in reality hilariously slow except for the odd Mitsubushi Evo or Porsche which came along and destroyed them. I felt eighteen again, and whilst it's not something I'd normally be interested in there's always something engaging about seeing a foreign equivalent of something familiar. Good fun.

Late night street racing

Watching the street racing - Jesse, Max, Tof and Rene

The city

Whilst a lot of time was spent in the hostel, we did manage to get out and about to see a bit of the city. The central streets were pleasant enough but waterfront was the place to be, where we had a look in a busy 5-a-side football centre, saw a dead boxfish lying on the pier, looked across to some nearby islands, watched some teenagers learning skateboard tricks, and joined in with the locals watching the sunset.

The last afternoon with none of the others interested I headed to the State Museum of Sabah for a look, getting a little lost on the way then randomly bumping into Rene who then came along, eventually getting there with just half an hour to closing time. We made do just looking at a couple of interesting then-and-now, and local tribe photography exhibits which showed again how much the city has grown and modernised. Outside, was an old steam train imported in the British colonial days which had a 'Made in Leeds' plaque on it's boiler; a surprising but pleasant find so far from home.

Despite being a couple of miles from the centre, whilst walking back by chance Malaysian Jesse drove past with the other guys in the car, another strange coincidence, so he picked us up and took us to a nice nearby beach in time for another great Borneo sunset. As we left I suddenly realised my sunglasses were no longer on my head - a fairly decent pair with nostalgic value if nothing else. I checked all around, in my bag, car, on my head again, pockets; nothing. We drove back the same way and I got out to retrace my steps near the museum. Nothing. After five minutes I reached the museum and searched around outside before a local asked what I was looking for, then popped inside to the security desk, and handing my sunnies back. See, I told you Malaysians were nice people.