Monkey see, monkey don't see

Our driver was waiting as promised at 5 in the morning. My wifey's really improved her getting up and getting ready ability when she is forced to do so. I guess maybe the occasional bitching that she got earlier on is working (okay... I'm asking for a beating here, I know honey). Kota Kinabalu airport is absolutely charming. An example of modern, open, industrial architecture mixed with Islamic and Malay elements just fits. After a quick check-in we had plenty of time to grab breakfast before the flight. There wasn't anything open yet, except for “billions served” restaurant. Just to report that Egg & Sausage McMuffin tastes the same in Malaysia as it does in Poland, the US or anywhere else around the world. I was thinking that perhaps due to halal rules the sausage wouldn't have pork, but instead lamb, beef or chicken, but it didn't. Standard pork patty.

Yesterday I booked our tickets to Tawau on Malaysian Airlines: a traditional carrier. Surprise, surprise: they had a sale. For 99 RM the tickets were only ten percent more expensive than the ten and a half hour bus, so it was no contest. We would save a whole day worth of traveling. We took off into the sky over Sabah's lush, green rainforests. After a short, peaceful hour-long flight we touched down on the eastern coast of Borneo.

A stressful situation for Kris happened right upon landing. While I went out looking for a bus to Semporna, she decided to nip out to the loo. Lo and behold, everyone left the airport and the door was closed behind her. Five minutes: no darling wife. Ten minutes: no tardy wife, and the first bus has already left. Fifteen minutes: no annoyingly late missus, and I'm having to convince the bus driver to stay and wait for us while I go look for her. What do I see? Krysia standing inside of the airport behind closed doors looking very unhappy. Finally the door was opened for her and we jumped on the bus. An hour later we were in Semporna.

In front of Dragon Inn

The driver dropped us off at the Dragon Inn, which interestingly enough was one of the places I considered staying in. Leaving Kris with our luggage I went to check out potential diving and accommodations and it turned out that there was nothing nicer and a better value than the hotel we were standing in front. A simple, wooden room with a bathroom, A/C and TV in a floating hotel which was emulating the exorbitantly priced resorts on Kapalai or Mabul. Charming, absolutely charming at only 77 RM (about $25 per night). Choice was made, now was time to look for diving options. I was dead set on Scuba Junkies, but read wonderful reviews about Big John Scuba which was located just next door. With all the Sipadan diving permits gone for the next few weeks, we might as well go with the convenient and well reviewed shop. Tomorrow we would have an intensive 3-dive day.

Semporna: a gateway to Mabul, Kapalai and Sipadan is an apt term, since you can't get to the islands from anywhere else. But if has this magical ring to it, as in Semporna itself is magical. Honestly, it isn't. The place is horribly smelly and dirty, although not so loud as we're used to in Asia. Our Dragon Inn is absolutely the nicest place not just in terms of accommodations, but also in terms of esthetics. The rest of the town is a muddy, smelly shithole. Not just that, it is filled with strolling, tired looking backpackers, usually just gathering in the same bar for an expensive drink and even more expensive international food.

Which started me thinking: I did the backpacker circuit for a couple of years on three continents so I understand the draw of it: inexpensive travel, meeting other backpackers, having someone to eat with, often someone to sleep with. Almost ten years later, I'm reexamining the whole idea. What's the point of staying in absolutely dingy accommodations with five other, often unwashed, roommates just to save a few bucks, when the next minute you're wasting that money on spaghetti or beans on toast... in Borneo. What's the point of going place to place and never even meeting a local? True, not that we've done so much socializing so far. Japan was great for both people, my friends and the atmosphere. But Philippines has discouraged us from talking to anyone around, lest we'd be scammed. Yet with my former backpacking experience, I definitely choose a mixture nowadays.

We found a place called Mabul Cafe for some food and drink. Not bad considering the price; Kris really enjoyed her lamb stir fry. With no night dives happening tonight (either due to bad weather or lack of interest) there was a question hanging in the air between us. What the hell do we do today? It's only 2PM, we still have a whole day ahead of us, but outside of going back to our hotel to sleep or eating ourselves to death, there is nothing to do. There are no tourist attractions or places to visit. There is no beach and worse: outside of this one backpacker place, there aren't even any bars here. You're really starting to feel the Islamic culture when (it's Ramadan now) alcohol costs a fortune and there aren't many places even selling it. What to do, what to do?

I remember seeing a website advertising the Borneo Proboscis Monkey tour. Mabul Cafe has free internet, so a quick check confirmed that the tour was on, and it was leaving everyday at 3:30. We had just enough time to catch it if I acted quickly. A booking place was just outside of the cafe and after quick negotiations for the driver to pick us up from our hotel instead of the meeting place (we had to go change into long pants first and time was short) we were on our way. In less than an hour we were heading out into the jungle. Located some distance from Semporna lies a center on a river which offers monkey and bird watching cruises. We were welcomed to the center with banana leaf wreaths, a fried banana (finally I get my fried banana!) and a glass of juice which tasted a bit like Fairy dishwashing liquid dissolved in soy milk. First we got a look at bunch of macaques fighting over pieces of bread being thrown to them while a pig-tailed macaque bull tried in vain to scare me by running up to me and baring its teeth. Come on monkey, bring it on homeboy. I got big teeth too.

The hunt for the Proboscis began. We were cruising on the river surrounded by mangroves looking for any signs of this endangered animal. Apparently they have a habit of coming down to the river right before the sunset to snack on river crabs. At any noise or a sign the captain would cut the engine and we'd float closer and into the mangrove roots. Yet no monkeys would be seen up close with the exception of a few macaques looking at us from the trees. Despite the obvious failure of the main objective, the cruise was absolutely wonderful. To experience the rainforests up close and personal, this must be a bit how cruising the Amazon or Orinoco looks like. Bird calls, monkey calls, fish bubbling underneath the surface. Aah... heaven. Upon our return we were treated to a barbeque dinner, or rather I was treated to dinner and a half (read: shrimp, fish and squid which Krysia wouldn't touch). We forwent the glass of soapy juice this time and opted for sodas instead.

A cultural note. Our guide was a Muslim. During Ramadan, which we are in the middle of, they are forbidden from eating, drinking or even smoking between sunrise and sunset. What was a bit funny that Kris didn't know that the most devout Muslims don't even swallow saliva, but instead spit. Wife thought our guide was a disgusting old man spitting left and right, when in fact he just had a very strong will. At 18:24 sharp the spitting stopped, he grabbed a bottle of water and a cigarette and with a big grin on his face lit up and took a swig.

We returned to the hotel at around 8 by which time we were quite tired and bug-bitten. It was time for a shower and bed to get a good night sleep before diving.