Jungle run

 We got to sleep in today, getting up almost at 8 am. With an afternoon departure to KL and only a jungle trek planned, we could afford to do so and we all know how much Kris likes her beauty sleep. And it was the first time since Japan when I had a really hot shower. Almost scalding, since I like extreme temperatures in general (I like my beer so cold it shatters the enamel on my teeth and my coffee so hot that it melts my intestinal tract). Breakfast was nothing to write home about. The famed KRS special turned out to be two badly scrambled eggs with pale toast, a lukewarm hot dog and a saucer worth of baked beans. But c'est la vie. We packed up to go on our trek, but wifey insisted on leaving her bag behind: she did carry more than me (surprise surprise), although to give her some credit, she was carrying our shampoo, my deodorant and my toothbrush.

Jungle boy ...

Our trek to Mt. Pachibumbum (I can’t actually remember the name of it…) began at around half past nine with weather calm, partly sunny: a perfect hiking weather. As already mentioned, Cameron Highlands enjoys a much different weather than the rest of Malaysia, due to its high altitude (at about 1000 meters above the sea level). The temperature was probably a balmy 25 Celsius with relatively low humidity and a nice breeze going on. Our hike took us through a rather rough terrain: moss covered tree roots, slippery rocks, mud, moss pits and probably my least favorite: wet clay, slippery as hell and a nightmare to get off your shoes and pants. Around us, a jungle, but a different type than experienced on Sabah. A mixed type of a forest with very occasional palm trees and more temperate type of trees, even with few conifers mixed in. We followed trail number 10 which was takes you to the top of the mountain, unfortunately it wasn't that well marked. Krysia seemed to remember the instructions from yesterday, but I didn't pay any attention (as usual) so at times it was a bit of a blind run: “Do we go left or right? You don't know? Why don't you know? Ok, lets go right. Why not? Well if you think we should go left than lets go left”. But after about three hours we were rewarded by reaching the top with magnificent views of the highlands.

... meets a jungle girl

What comes up must come down, and so did we. But contrary to the belief, the way down isn't always easier. With at least three paths we could follow (and later on another fork in the road to make it four) we chose one that seemed most downward. A logical assumption that it should be the quickest way down. Unfortunately it seems we chose a path used by water during seasonal floods, i.e. a river bed, filled with wet rocks and slippery clay, often with sharp drop-offs and meter deep holes. Once we were out of there, it was a path through bushes, tall grasses and short palm trees, ferns with thorns, a tangle of few hundred year old tree roots and sometimes what was worst: fallen trees too high to climb over with a 50 meter drop on one side, a vertical wall on the other and an opening underneath through which we literally had to crawl through. My honey wanted a jungle trek, well... she got a jungle trek. Although at one point when she slid down the path and was hanging ass down over a sharp drop hanging on to some roots I think even she thought “Darn, maybe I should've gone to Starbucks instead”. Finally we popped out of the jungle and into civilization a bit after 1 pm. It was still ways to go before we reached the main drag in Tanah Rata, but we were happy, satisfied and hungry (not to mention dirtier that shit shoveling stable boys).  


Finally at the top

Hunger was easily taken care of by returning to Kumar restaurant. And once again, Kris asked for “NOT spicy dish”. Truth be told, I though that lamb with cashews curry was quite mild, but her tongue was still burning. But their naans and tandoori meats are simply phenomenal and quite beyond description. De-lip smacking-licious! And halfway through our honeymoon, the probiotics Kris is taking are working beautifully. She hasn't had a single major belly problem yet. Yesterday she asked me innocently “Do you really think it's the probiotics that are helping me?” and I though of all the instances when even in Western Europe she can get a Delhi belly from eating eggs, fruits or in fact anything. Yes! Probiotics work, and if this sounds like an advertisement, than consider it so.

With still some time left, we stopped at a cafe for some drinks. Thing to remember: in Asia they really do love sugar. If something COULD be sweet, consider that it will be. If something SHOULD be sweet, assume it will have a pound of sugar. I'm not a big fan of sugary in my liquids, but I guess one can get used to it. Going back Kris went to pick up her bag from the guesthouse and I went to get snacks for the road: some more cut fruits (mango and dragonfruit did us just fine) and a couple Chang beers since I finally found a place where they weren't a total ripoff. Our bus to KL by Unititi (please read it out loud a few times, ha ha ha) was already waiting and a few minutes past four we departed on a bus which wasn't supposed to exist.  Malaysian buses of the VIP type are really ultra comfortable. It's like traveling business class on the airplane. Seats three to a row, wide, reclining with footrests, blazing AC and blazing sentimental or funky Indian music. We took a break midway, a perfect opportunity to have a snack. Pau (same thing as bow in China) with curried beef and curried chicken hit the spot as a road trip food. Arriving at Puduraya station, we picked up our luggage (still intact) and went across the street to our Citin Hotel: close and not too expensive. Nothing special, but can't beat the convenience. Unfortunately there was a movie on at the hotel which meant we didn't get to leave the rest of the evening. Oh well, I'd already seen the Petronas Towers at night. Good night.

W wielkiej dżungli,potężnej dżungli ...

Na ten dzień,zaplanowana została druga wycieczka,w program w której wchodziły między innymi wizyta w wiosce zamieszkanej przez rdzenną ludność,trekking przez dżunglę oraz prezentacja największego kwiatu na ziemi – raflezji. Jak na złość okazało się że akurat teraz roślina nie kwitnie,więc i wycieczki nie opłaca się robić. Niezrażeni,postanowiliśmy samodzielnie pobuszować w zieleni. Dostaliśmy 'namiary' na niezbyt wymagajacy, 2-godzinny szlak. I teraz pytanie czysto logiczne: mając na uwadze nasze wcześniejsze doświadczenia w zdobywaniu informacji oraz fakt że są one podawane odwrotnie proporcjonalnie do prawdy – ile trwał nasz trekking i jak bardzo byliśmy zmęczeni?

Zaczęło się – jak to zwykle bywa – niewinnie.Jako że szlak miał być dobrze oznaczony,szukaliśmy początku jakieś 20 minut. W końcu, po przejściu przez kilka prywatnych ogródków,udało nam się dostać na wybraną trasę. Miło,łatwo, sympatycznie. Przez gąszcz drzew nadal było widać pobliskie domy. Niemniej jednak była to namiastka przygody, więc już się uśmiechałam od ucha do ucha. Pogoda,jako że jest to teren górzysty, była idealna. Ciepło,słonecznie,ale co jakiś czas orzeźwiał nas zimny powiew wiatru. Dość szybko doszliśmy do miejsca gdzie szlak miał się rozdzielić na nasz i inny. Inny był,a nasz...miał zakaz wstępu. Grzecznie przestrzegając przepisów, poszliśmy więc w drugą stronę.Szybko jednak okazało się, że ścieżka zaczyna schodzić w dół – a nasz szlak miał prowadzić na pobliską górę. Z dołu, zobaczyliśmy że 'zamkniętym' szlakiem jednak jacys śmiałkowie szli.Postanowiliśmy zawrócić i spróbować. Znak musiał chyba tam stać od bardzo dawna (swoją droga był troche zardzewiały i porośniety mchem), bo wkrótce zobaczylismy dalsze drogowskazy, które upewnily nas że idziemy w dobrym kierunku – czyli pod górę. Pod bardzo wysoką i stromą górę. W tym momencie łatwizna się skończyła. Ścieżka przemieniła się w schody ułożone z gałęzi,oczywiscie o róznej wielkości,wysokości i szerokości. Sprawy nie ulatwiał fakt,iż wszystko było pokryte mokrym mchem i liściami – poślizg i bolesny upadek,lub też ześlizgnięcie się z wąziutkiego przejścia ,było tylko kwestią czasu.(co oczywiście udało mi się zrobić). No cóż...chciałam przygody to ją miałam.

Po dwóch godzinach,doczłapaliśmy się na sam szczyt. Widok niewątpliwie był wart wysiłku. Chwila chwały i czas schodzić. Nie chcieliśmy eksperymentować ze ścieżkami z drugiej strony góry (nie mielismy zbyt dużo czasu),więc zgodnie z wczesniejszymi sugestiami obraliśmy pobliski szlak,który prowadził w dół i w połowie miał się łączyć z nasza pierwszą drogą. Początek był prosty,aby już po kilku minatach okazało się że ścieżki praktycznie nie widać,a my przedzieramy się przez gąszcze,haszcze i inne zielone,wysokie szcze.... natrafiliśmy na strumień,stwierdziliśmy więc że pójdziemy wzdłuż niego, w końcu woda zawsze 'schodzi' najprostszą drogą w dół. Po 30 minutach zobaczyliśmy coś co przypominało rozwidlenie. Prosto, zaczynała się w miarę normalna ścieżka. W prawo był znak wskazujacy trasę do naszej miejscowości. Trasę prowadzącą praktycznie pionowo w dół w jeszcze większe i wyższe trawy. W pewnym momencie czułam się jak Alicja w labiryncie. Postanowilismy zawierzyć w oznaczenia 'drogowe' i przedrzeć się w głąb,w poszukiwaniu scieżki. Nasz (a właściwie Bartka,który ma jakiś 6 zmysł) wybór okazał się trafny i po niedługim czasie wróciliśmy na szlak. Nie ułatwiało to jednak sprawy. Ścieżka najwyraźniej brała udział w jakimś projekcie konserwacji natury,bo co na nią spadło tak leżało. Zaczeło się więc przeskakiwanie,przechodzenie,przepełzanie i okrążanie. Wspominałam już że było ślisko,stromo i wąsko? Moje buty i spodnie przybrały kolor błotnego brązu,a bluzka i plecak mchowej zieleni.

Była to jednak jedna z najfajniejszych wędrówek jakie kiedykolwiek miałam. Kiedy cali umorusani,spoceni i zmęczeni wrócilśmy na główna drogę do naszej miejscowości (tak udało nam się wydostać z gąszczu) czułam niemałą satysfakcję. Nagrodą był przepyszny indyjski obiad. Jako że wyprawa zajęła nam dwa razy dłużej,dość szybko się zebraliśmy i udaliśmy się na stacje autobusową. Autokar 'widmo' już czekał i wydawał się dość realny.Kiedy się wygodnie usadowiłam w siedzeniu,byłam pewna że nie śnię ;)

Cameron Highlands

Cameron Higlands okazało się strzałem w dziesiątkę. Mogę z całą odpowiedzialnością polecić to miejsce każdemu miłśnikowi natury,przygody i adrenaliny.

Nigdy wcześniej nie słyszałam o tym regionie. Zupełnie przypadkiem,natrafiłam na zdjęcia znajomej (a więc jednak facebook ma jakieś pozytywy:) i stwierdziłam że wygląda to na całkiem fajne miejsce. Ponieważ z przyczyn logistycznych mogliśmy tam zostać tylko na jedną noc,postanowiliśmy wyjechać z samego rana. Trochę obawialiśmy się o dostępność biletów,jednak okazało się że z racji sezonu bardzo nie-turystycznego, nie było najmniejszego problemu z kupieniem biletów tuż przed. Nasze główne bagaże zostawiliśmy w przchowalni na dworcu autobusowym.(2.5 zł. Za bagaż, za dzień to śmieszna cena za oszczędzenie kręgosłupa) i zaopatrzeni tylko w niezbędne minimum wsiedliśmy do autokaru. WOW!WOW!WOW! Jak nie wiele do szczęścia potrzeba – autobus właściwie przypominał biznes klasę w samolocie. Tylko 3 siedzenia w rzędzie,duuużo miejsca do wygodnego usadzenia czterech liter,prawie że do poziomu odchylane oparcie i podnóżek. Nikt nikgo(patrz ja i Mąż) nie popycha,nie szturcha,nie drażni.Zamiast przewidywanych 4 godzin,jechaliśmy tylko 3. Same plusy.A to był dopiero początek dnia.

Tanah Rata – miejscowość w której się zatrzymaliśmy ma niewątpliwie duży urok.Dość dziwne, bo jest to typowo turystyczna miejscowość,składająca się głównie z miejsc noclegowych,biur podróży i restauracji, a takich miejsc staram się unikać. Być może jest to kwestia chłodniejszego klimatu i przepięknych,zielonych gór tonących w mistycznej mgle. Możliwe też, że dzieje się tak dlatego,iż lokalni chcą jak najlepiej ugościć wszystkich przybyszów,a nie tylko zedrzeć z nich kasę.

Powyzsze trzy zdjecia:Cameron Highlands

Zaraz po przyjeździe zameldowaliśmy się w naszym pensjonacie,skąd od razu pojechaliśmy na półdniową wycieczkę. Nasz przewdonik – Velu,Hindus z pochodzenia – podjechał po nas lekko rozklekotanym jeepem i wraz z drugą parą zaczeliśmy zwiedzanie. Pierwsza była plantacja herbaty (to co przykuło moją uwagę na zdjęciach znajomej). Hektary labiryntów pomiędzy zielonymi krzakami.Wrażenie robi niesmowite.Velu stwierdził,iż mimo że jest to największy producent czarnego napoju w całej Malezji,to jakość jest bardzo kiepska,głównie przez fakt zbiorów mechanicznych. My jednak kupiliśmy małą paczuszkę na spróbowanie,coby sobie samemu wyrobić zdanie. Następnym punktem programu była góra Birchang i mechowy las. Pomieszanie scenerii z Jurassic Park i Avatara. Grube,powyginane w najróźniejsze kształty gałęzie,porośnięte mchem podłoże i całe mnóstwo najdziwniejszych roślin. To dopiero frajda dla takiego mieszczucha jak ja. Tak mi się spodobało,że postanowiłam koniecznie wybrać się na dłuższy trekking następnego dnia. Ostatnie dwie 'atrakcje' o ile bardzo sympatyczne,były mało przygodowe. Farma motyli i truskawek.

Dzunglowe korony.

Nasz powoz.

Gdy wróciliśmy do Tanah Rata była najwyższa pora na smaczną kolację, Tym razem odwiedziliśmy indyjską knajpką,która de facto oprócz dań z południowych Indii,serwowała jeszcze kuchnię chińską i malezyjską. Jak to dobrze że zamawiając,poprosiłam aby moje danie nie było zbyt ostre.Dzięki temu 'wypaliłam' sobie tylko pół buzi i (z krótkimi przerwami na orzeżwiające bananowe lassi) dałam radę zjeść całą porcję.

Wieczór spędziliśmy na poszukiwaniu autobusu powrotnego. W internecie i na plakatch jak byk było napisane że jest autobus do Kuala Lumpur o 16.00. Niestety,nigdzie nie mogliśmy dostać biletów. Albo dane biuro ich nie sprzedawało,albo uparcie twierdziło że tak naprawdę jest to autobus widmo i nie istnieje. Nie zrażeni (bardzo zależało nam właśnie na tym autobusie z przyczyn logistycznych), zrobiliśmy kilka okrążeń po miejscowości, licząć że w końcu ktoś zlamie pakt milczenia i wyjawi nam,jak dostać się na pokład. Kropla drąży skałę – 2 godziny później,w jednym z biur właśnie otworzyli sprzedaż! Sukces! Długo nie czekając,kupiliśmy bilety,dziesięć razy upewniając się czy aby na pewno ten autobus istnieje i odjedzie.

So who's this Cameron anyways?

Since we did our homework yesterday, we could sleep in a bit. After a quick shower, repacking into our small backpacks for two days and another breakfast at KL's worst hotel we went to Pudu Sentral station. At the luggage storage a daughter of the owner was already waiting for us. Amazing how people here will wait for your business even if it's only for 8 ringitt. Since the road was supposed to be long we got some snacks to get us through the ride. Cameron Highlands seems strong on the backpacker trail and the bus was mostly white. Lots of French here for some reason as well as the traditional mixture of Dutch, Germans and an occasional Australian. The road to Tanah Ratah was uneventful, with a short pit stop to drain the lizard and before we knew it we were there. Took just a bit over three hours, as opposed to the four and a half to five hours advertised. Word of advice: never count on the schedules being right around the equator. Once again it's that polychronic approach to time. When you expect to travel for a whole day, you end up at your destination in a few hours. When you expect to be somewhere in an hour, you might end up there in six. From the station it was a short walk to our guesthouse selected by Kris. I had a look at the same one a couple months ago and it seemed like a good choice. We were struck at the sheer number of guesthouses in Tanah Rata. Next time here, or for anyone visiting: don't bother booking a room. There are so many accommodations available it's ripe for picking. Our room wasn't ready, but our landlady turned out to be an extremely competent lady who spoke flawless English and was ready with a limitless supply of good information. She booked us on a half day trip to tea and strawberry plantations, a jungle trek and a butterfly farm and suggested a good restaurant for lunch. Leaving Kris' heavier bag behind we went to fill up on South Indian fare at Sri Brinchang. Krysia specifically asked for a mild curry, but it wasn't to be. Her tongue burned, though heavens know why: her curry was actually very mild. Only enough to kill half of Polish population. After lunch we checked in with our tour office next door and were picked up by Velu in his rather run down 4x4. Together with two traveling Yanks we went on a picture crazy bonanza at the tea plantation. The views are wonderful, but according to Velu, the tea is absolute shit. Instead of hand picking the leaves, they just trim them with machines together with the branches, stems and an occasional spider nest before roasting it all together. We purchased some to try at home. Whether it's true or not remains to be seen, but I have my doubts as to accuracy of the information given by our guide. Velu did not seem to be very fond of Chinese Malaysians or aboriginal Malays. This seems to be a trend here that even though population is quite mixed and seems to live in peace and harmony, they don't particularly like each other or speak fondly of each other. Chinese have snapped up a lot of the land and property and are the richest part of Malaysian population, Indians being the workhorses, and Malays just kind of keeping to themselves with their Islam and headscarves. Next came photo opportunities at a view tower on Mount Brinchang and the jungle trek. Well... a mini trek in reality. We were offered a choice of “hard” or “easy” trek and despite the majority opting for easy (Kris wanted the hard one, I said “whatever” and the Yanks were concerned about the state of their pants and wanted easy) Velu seemed to understand that we are to go on the hard trek. What it actually involved was about twenty minutes walking on top of 220 million year old pile of fossilized moss, tangled tree roots and top soil, which felt a little bit like walking on a hard mattress observing pitcher plants, smelling various tree leaves and bark, all of which can be found in an Indian curry dish, all while wearing silly hats made out of ferns and taking photos. Quite a lot of fun, but really, calling it hard would be a stretch in anyone's dictionary. Kris enjoyed it immensely and wanted to go on another trek tomorrow. The butterfly farm was next, which turned out to be a rather large hothouse willed with a variety of flora and thousands of colorful butterflies sitting, or sometimes even flying. Some nice exposition of snakes and a variety of bugs was also included. The final stop was a strawberry farm, which quite honestly sucked. The only interesting part about it is, since Cameron Highlands have a much cooler weather than the rest of Malaysia, organic strawberries are grown here. A very interesting farming system where bags of top soil are suspended above the ground on a wooded lattice with water irrigation system installed, and then strawberry bushes are planted directly inside. So what you're looking at is like something out of Space Odyssey 2001 film, strawberries growing in mid air. They are bloody expensive here, and quite honestly, without much flavor. When we got back to Tanah Rata we were presented with a dilemma. We had to leave tomorrow, because we've a flight to Bali on the 7^th. There is too much risk to take the morning bus at 8:30, because if it does take the five hours as advertised, we're going to miss our flight. But while looking for a late afternoon bus, everyone told us something different. “1:45 last bus”, “2 last bus”, “5:30 last bus, but it goes through Ipoh and it takes 6 hours” (meaning we'd miss picking up our luggage at the bus station). What about the 4 pm bus we were counting on? “Canceled”, “No go”, “Maybe”, “I don't know”. We asked about it at the bus station and the company rep said “No bus, because no customers”. Normally that would be enough information to go on, but taught by experience, I went online to check the online reservation system and the bus already had 5 tickets sold. So we decided to hang about and eat some dinner at Kumar, an Indian place right next to Brinchang. Once again, food was delicious, if on a spicy side for my wife. Although to be honest, they could not get the chutney or the mint sauce right. After dinner we went back to the bus station with my laptop to show the sales rep (who was different this time), that there was a bus at 4 pm tomorrow, and lo and behold the answer was “Of course there is. I already sold seven tickets for it. You want go?” Oh the humanity of trying to get pertinent information from the locals. I said it once and I'll say it again: if it's in their best interest, they will give you the information, if it's not they will either give you disinformation (very common in the Philippines) or simply play stupid and not give you any info. Moral of the story, check, check, check and then check once again.

Organic strawberry farming in Cameron Highlands.

On the way back to the guesthouse we picked up some more local fruit. I just want my hon to try everything Asia has to offer, and it has a lot of fruit to offer. Some starfruit, mangosteen and once again rambuttan (since she forgot how it tastes like) from a nice Chinese guy who actually washed and cut up the starfruit for us. We also found a place, a first place during our stay in Malaysia, with cheap beer. 5.50 RM for half a liter of Chang beer (my favorite brew from Thailand) was a steal, so picked up a couple of these as well as two half liter Camel beers. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT??? 12% alcohol by volume in a can. This is not a joke. This beer was so strong, Kris couldn't drink it, saying it was too bitter. I actually enjoyed mine, but a can of this and a can of 6.5% Chang got me almost completely plastered by bed time.
Malaysia so far has turned to be a culinary heaven and diet hell. We've been eating a lot, because the food is delicious, spicy (for me if I want it) and inexpensive. A mixture of Indian and Chinese mostly, as well as a great selection of fruits. It's a bit tricky with Malaysian food, since it's Ramadan at the moment, so their food is usually not available at all during the day. But once we're back in Warsaw, I'm pretty sure the missus will want me to incorporate a lot more Asian flavors in my daily cooking. I think she's finally getting sold on more exotic flavors, and it makes me very happy. If she could only learn to enjoy seafood and sushi...

Kuala Lumpur bleh. Am I really a country bumpkin?

 

The breakfast at D’Oriental Inn was just what you’d expect: cold and nasty. But mandatory nutrition meant suffering through it and leaving the hotel to explore Kuala lumpur as soon as possible. This was my second time in this city, my previous visit happening in 2005. Didn’t get much of a taste for it 7 years ago, perhaps this time it would be different, although by the first feeling we got from the hotel it was going to be difficult. Got to admit, I was in a rotten mood this morning. Last night’s hotel disappointment didn’t let off yet.

Kris wanted to see Batu Caves, a complex of Hindu shrines on the outskirts of the city. We took a commuter train there (strangely enough the fare going back is twice as high as the fare there, but still a bargain, 1 ringgit there and 2 ringgits back) for about 45 minutes. Batu Caves houses several different temples, some of which are carved inside the caves, some are built outside. The whole place is just swarming with monkeys. Small, ugly, yellow toothed, filthy creatures I would gladly put a baseball bat to, if I had the chance. I tried to feed one, only to get a few hisses and an attempt to tear my face off. Next time I see one in the forest it will be a blowgun lesson for me. The stairs to the temple cave are an arduous journey. Not only many of them, but also very steep. Needless to say I was sweating buckets and by the time I got to the top my shirt has changed its color a few shades. The weather is absolutely terrible in KL in August. Hot, 30 plus Celsius, humidity at 100 per cent. You’re out of your air conditioned room for a few minutes and your clothes are already sticking to you. We wanted a breather after the caves and found it in a vegetarian Indian restaurant. Now there is hell for my meat-eating wife if there is any. Our food was actually quite good, naan with cheese and onion with bunch of typical dips: chutney, mint sauce and daal. But I get this feeling that she wasn’t THAT happy about it. Even an ice cream cone didn’t fully do it, especially that it started melting immediately.

Merdaka Square

From there it was on to Merdaka square, a more or less central place in KL, a place where they hold their independence day parades and nowadays a good place to watch the Olympics on a big screen. There is a nice information center next to it, where we learned what we already knew: there was nothing really much to see in KL that interested us, besides Petronas Towers. And once again, as in Borneo, there’s this tendency to screw the pooch (and if you aren’t Malaysia, you’re the pooch) by charging three, four even five times for any entrance of worth. If you’re a budget traveler, you’re screwed, but even if you’re not, it just puts you in a bad mood. You’re being ridiculously taken advantage of. 80 ringgit to go up Petronas Towers?? $26 per person is more than Empire States building in NY, more than CN Tower in Toronto or the Space Needle in Seattle. Screw you!

We headed to Petronas Towers. Those jewels of modern Euro-Islamic architecture were the tallest buildings in the world for a while and still hold the title as the world’s tallest twin towers. With smog present in the city and the ridiculous pricing, we decided not to go up to the observation deck, but instead joined hordes of tourists attempting to get a clear shot of you and the towers with no one else in view. With hundreds of people pushing, getting in each other’s way it was a challenge. A flash of inspiration brought upon my powers of observation and I spotted a wall behind which there was a street. We went to the other side and zip, zilch, nada. No people and the view: PERFECT. Our photo session brought upon smiles from passing cops and a bus full of Malaysians shouting “Model, model!” to us. Below are some of the results.

 

Nothing to put us in a better mood then some Malaysian food from an Indian restaurant. Nasi goreng rocks, although I warn seafood haters: the sauce is pungent with fish and dried mackerels top the rice so not for everyone. Kris once again went for the tried and tested Mi goreng (pictured) which doesn’t smell of fish so bad. We grabbed a dragon fruit and a couple big beers on the street before heading back to our hell hole. Tomorrow morning, we’re off to Cameron Highlands.

Borneo welcome to...

Podróżowanie w porze deszczowej ma jedną wadę – dużo pada. Bardzo dużo i bardzo mocno. Tak właśnie – burzowo i deszczowo – przywitało nas Borneo. Nie do końca byliśmy przekonani że chcemy poraz kolejny przemoknąć razem z całym bagażem,więc zgodnie zdecydowalismy się na taksówkę.

Przejazd przez Kota Kinabalu w klimatyzowanym pojeździe był niewątpliwie bardzo relaksujący. W porównaniu do miast na Filipinach gdzie na przemian widniały tylko centra handlowe,dzielnice biedy i ogrodzone drutem kolczastym osiedla mieszkalne, tutaj struktura miasta przypominała bardziej te zachodnie. Sklepy,bloki mieszkalne, meczety, parki itp. Po zameldowaniu się do hotelu, wyruszyliśmy na rekonesans. Było już dość późno, więc był to bardziej rekonesans skierowany na poszukiwania lokalnego jedzenia – zakończony powodzeniem.

Następny dzień zacząl się dla nas dość wcześnie. Właściwie to w środku nocy – bo już o 5 rano musielismy brać taksówkę na lotnisko. Ranny lot do Tawau na wschód wyspy, potem szybko na autobus do Semporny. Cała ,prawie dwugodzinna droga, to widok na plantacje palm olejowych. Reklamowana jako mała,urocza nadmorska miejscowość, Semporna bardziej okazała się być jednym wielkim targiem z małoprzyjemnymi zapachami. Co prawda nie ma tu tak usilnego nagabywania jak na Filipinach,zwiedzanie więc mogłoby być przyjemniejsze,o ile było by co zwiedzać. Kilka zdjęć reklamujących miejscowość zostało zrobione w praktycznie tym samym miejscu – 2 minuty i koniec oglądania. Na szczęście nasz hotel,wyszukany przez Męża, okazał się bardzo miłą odskocznią. Wychodzący na wodę (tzw. floating hotel), niezaprzeczalnie miał magiczną atmosferę. Do miasta przyjechaliśmy dość wcześnie, mając praktycznie cały dzień do zagospodarowania. Niestety, jedyną w miarę przyjemną opcją było albo:siedzenie w klimatyzowanym pokoju,albo siedzenie w klimatyzownym barze. I znowu na ratunek przyszedł Mąż, który wynalazł półdniową wycieczkę 'Proboscis Monkey River Tour'. Głównym celem, było zobaczenie małp z wielkim nosem,wszystkie jednak musiły się bardzo wstydzić, bo ani jednej nie zobaczyliśmy. Mimo wszystko cała wyprawa była bardzo udana: ponad dwugodzinny rejs motorówką po rzece, kilka innych ciekawych gatunków i pyszna kolacja podana na liściu bananowca na pożegnanie. Jedyną rzeczą która mi niesmakowała (krewetek nie wliczam – bo tego nie tykam) był lokalny napój – smakował jak mydlo w płynie. (I gdyby nie fakt że widziałam jak pili go lokalni – mogłabym się założyć że tak wlaśnie było.)

Jeden z wielu targow

Śniadanie serwowane przez hotel dość proste:kawa/herbata,tost z dżemem i smażony banan na którego się nie doczekaliśmy bo 'ciągle się gotował', co niestety zmartwiło Męża. Na szczęście szybko zostało mu to wynagrodzone całodziennym nurkowaniem. Wiatr, woda, słońce ...czego tu chcieć więcej. Główną atrakcją były żółwie – i tych faktycznie zobaczyliśmy kilkadziesiąt. Małe, średnie i te bardzo duże. Do tego dwie płaszczki, jedna barakuda z paskudną mordką i wiele innych ślicznych, kolorowych rybek. Moja kontrola nad 6 kierunkami (lewo,prawo,przód,tył,góra,dół) szła mi już dużo lepiej, dzięki czemu nie nokautowałam ani podwodnej flory i fauny, ani innych nurków. Ruch w wodzie opanowałam już nawet do takiego stopnia że możemy sobie z Bartkiem dokuczać nawet na głębokości 18 metrów :).

Powrót na główną wyspę,podziwiając zachód słońca.Na kolacje,ponowna degustacja lokalnych przysmaków. Spakowanie się, naładowanie wszystkich baterii do aparatów,kamer itd. i hops spać,jako że znów czekała nas wczesnoporanna pobudka.

'Nadmorski port'

Plus Semporny czyli nasz hotel.

Monkey business

I gotto repeat, Uncle Tan's is the place for food. We woke up to the smell of pancakes, fried eggs and toast. Pancakes Malaysian style with condensed milk and pineapple jam with a cup of coffee really hit the spot in the morning before you go see the apes. Our transfer picked us up to go to Sepilok Orangutan Sanctuary at 8 am. But in a style common to this part of the world, no one actually has any correct information and the place only opened at 9 am. We hung around the cafeteria with some drinks. I've already tried almost every drink available in this country: grass jelly (which I had before and am a big fan of), lychee, mango, water chestnut (nice), coconut, carbonated ice tea and winter melon, but Kris stuck to something safe, i.e.: Sprite.

Orangutan coming down for a feeding

We were hoarded in to watch a movie about the sanctuary before let in to watch the feeding at 10 am. Sepilok cares for orphaned orangutans, carefully nursing them to adulthood (which in case of orangutans takes 8 to 10 years) and then weening them off human love and releasing into the wild in the sanctuary. Only one orangutan came to be fed, swinging gracefully on lines suspended in the trees. But we were lucky enough to spot a next just above the walkway where a juvenile was taking a nap (apparently he just wasn't hungry). Seeing the crowd of gawking tourists, he decided to step outside for a photo session, yawning, flexing his muscles, then just hanging out, literally and metaphorically. Lovely animals with very intelligent faces and apparently much smarter than chimpanzees. Orangutans in the wild and captivity have been observed to create and use tools, and teach their young how to use them. These smart apes have a learning process very similar to ourselves.

Just hanging around

Yesterday Saidi, the manager of Uncle Tan's, suggested that if we only have one day we could go and see Labouk Bay, which is exactly what we did after the sanctuary. Half an hour transfer deposited us on the outskirts of mangrove forest right next to an oil palm plantation, where the owners saved a bit of the forest in order to preserve the Proboscis monkey. At half past ten we witnessed the first feeding with hordes of floppy nosed monkeys coming down their trees to enjoy a repast of bread, melon skins and Sabah vegetables. There were also some other monkeys around (perhaps someone can help me identify them by commenting below) and some interesting looking bird, which name I can't remember (once again, if you know, post it below). We finally got the chance to see the elusive Proboscis, our last outing ending in failure.

After the feeding came time for lunch. This was a low point of the day, because I came to realize that while in the Philippines we were simply cheated by everyone, here in Malaysia, the cheating is done in a state-sponsored way. For almost every attraction around there are two prices: the local price for Malaysian citizens, and the tourist price: three to five times higher. And I think it only hit me during lunch that paying almost a $100 for half a day trip for two people without lunch is kind of expensive. What upset me a bit more that Sepilok is mostly sponsored by the UK Orangutan Appeal, a charitable organization which collects thousands of pounds in order to support this place. So not only do foreigners sponsor this place and help save these great apes, they are then taken advantage of when visiting. It's sad to see that a Western organization condones this kind of practice. Very sad. For the next hour we just hung out in hammocks while waiting for a film showing about the Proboscis monkey. After the movie, which was done in a BBC-melodrama style (with soppy music while the monkeys were courting each other and making love, sweet love) we went to see the second feeding. The second platform is located much deeper in the forest, which results in a great number of monkeys being present. Not only there are many of them, they are also completely unafraid of the visitors, jumping around and completely ignoring us. Great photo opportunities, although we were a bit slow with Kris to get the “stupid tourist with a monkey” photo. My wife has a fantastic photo with a monkey's ass next to her face instead.

Honey, next time show a little reflex

We were dropped off at Uncle Tan just after lunch to my disappointment. Fortunately, there were still some fried bananas left (I finally got my fried banana!), which I had my fill of. A couple beers and rounds of pool finished off the evening, before we packed up and went to sleep.

Are there any apes in da house?

As far as early wake-ups we had a repeat of yesterday. The bus to Sepilok was at 7:30 and we wanted to at least give it an attempt to get our breakfast in at the earliest time. So after packing up and checking out, we were the first ones in the restaurant as the sun was rising. Once again, no fried banana, but today I couldn't care less. A coffee would do me just fine and then a jet dash to the bus station.

There are no jeepneys in Semporna. There are no rikshas and no trikes. And apparently there are no taxis. The reason why I wrote “apparently” will become apparent now: every car in Semporna is a make-shift taxi actually. As you're walking down the road, if the car honks at you, all you need to do is just turn around and wave at them and it becomes a taxi. The bus station wasn't far, but we just wanted a bit of creature comforts and for 5 RM this could be bought. Although I wasn't sure we were going to get there, when the door nearly fell out when the driver was opening it for Kris. Yet five minutes later we were getting tickets at the bus station.

To get to Sepilok by bus there are is one bus a day at 7:30. Oh true, the schedule says there is another one at 2 PM but it doesn't always run. Tickets cost 40 RM per person. As it was so early there were no stores open in order to buy any food so we hoped for a break in the journey. The road was long, slow and winding, leading us through acres and acres of oil palm plantations, coconut plantation and rainforests. Easy to float away into sleep. At a stop in Latam Datu, I had just enough time to jump out and buy us to jelly drinks: mango and lychee with coconut jelly floating in them, some dried bananas (the little girl selling it to me bewildered me with her smile and promptly gave me bad change, but this time I didn't mind too much) and some BBQ corn chips. Hopefully this food would keep us going until Sepilok. We ended up snoozing part of the ride so before I blinked it was Sepilok Junction.

Couple days ago I confirmed a room at Uncle Tan Guesthouse, which turned out to be just couple hundred meters down the road. While they were getting our room ready, we had our lunch. This place is an excellent bargain. For 100 RM ($33) you get a double room with a shared bathroom and all meals included. While the room is nothing to write home about, it does have a blazing AC (we got our room to 18 degrees in no time), the meals are just unbelievable. Local food with local flavors, lots of seafood, curries, Sabah Vegetable which I came to love so much (it's a kind of a fern which tastes like between asparagus, green beans and arugula. Served as a buffet, you can eat as much as you want, so I know we won't go hungry the next two days. Even wifey can find some meat on the menu without being bastardized by seafood flavors. We exchanged some money, settled in our room and upon a recommendation from the owner went to the Rainforests Discovery Center nearby.

Being tourists again

For a botany enthusiast, this place is heaven. So below I'm including some photos of interesting plants for those of you (especially you Dad) who are fans of flora to make your guesses as to what they are. For couple of hours we checked out their exhibition, the botanical garden and then walked on the canopy tour of the rainforests checking out different sights and sounds. We didn't see any monkeys this time, although we surely heard a lot of them, along with the constant smacking of geckos and nearly electronic sounds of the cicada. A rainforests is such a magical place after all.

Two hours later we were wiped out, ready to crash and definitely ready for a drink. Fortunately on the way back to the guesthouse we found a store. For me it's nothing new, but I was shocked to see that me and the missus finished off a two liter bottle of isotonic standing in front of the store. That's thirst I tell you. Back in the guesthouse we confirmed that we had seats on the bus going to Kota Kinabalu in two days, took an ice cold shower (actually... ice cold water here is a cool 25 degrees, so it's not so bad at all) and while hun was getting ready I grabbed couple games of pool with a fellow backpacker from Switzerland, then some ping pong with Kris. And they actually had some affordable beers in the guesthouse, so we finished one off quite happily.

Observing the crowd you could see that everyone was waiting for dinner, just hanging around the big common hall. A pretty standardized crowd of Western Europeans, Swiss, Germans and Dutch, in their 20s and 30s hanging around the world for anywhere from a month to half a year. Quite a few divers and as it usually goes on the backpacker circuit, a few of them hitting up the same places as we did, or will do. When the dinner was rolled out you could sense excitement in the air, everyone busily astir with plates and forks in their hands. No wonder: dinner wasn't a disappointment. Chicken wings done in a “super spicy” sauce according to Kris (mildly flavored for me, although eating two of the red hot chilli peppers almost brought tears to my eyes), pumpkin in coconut curry, Sabah Vegetable salad, Chinese eggplant in sauce and something that can only be described as a stir fried garden salad with scrambled eggs... weird. Watermelon for dessert. I had seconds... for the second time today. I need to go easy, or I'll start regaining what I've already lost on this trip, but with this tempting food, it will be very difficult.

Eight twenty and it's already pitch dark. Actually, it's been pitch dark for almost an hour and a half: the beauty or curse of equatorial locations. Almost a year round equinox. Internet isn't working so I've no idea when I'll upload this blog entry together with all the wonderful photos I have from today. I guess there is only one thing to do now: have on more beer and go get some shut eye.

So now here is your quiz dad (and others). Identify these plants:

      PHOTO 1: ____________________________

 

 

      PHOTO 2: ____________________________

 

      PHOTO 3: ____________________________

 

      PHOTO 4: ____________________________

 

      PHOTO 5: ____________________________

 

      PHOTO 6: ____________________________

 

      PHOTO 7: ____________________________

 

      PHOTO 8: ____________________________

 

 

Into the great muck open

Our hotel in the morning

Waking up at 6 is bliss when you have a full day of diving ahead of you. Although my day started off on the wrong foot when I did not get my fried banana for breakfast. The floating Dragon Inn Hotel we're staying (which is an exceptional value for its novelty and copy-the-luxury-at-almost-backpacker-price) does not have a big breakfast to start off with. Coffee, toast and a fried banana. So when I heard from the waitresses “Sorreee sir. Still cooking” after thirty minutes, I got pretty miffed. No one separates Bart from his food, even from a fried banana. Gimme my fried banana bitch!

Big John's was closed when we showed up at 7:30. Apparently polychronic attitude to time is common in all hot tropical countries. The girl showed up at the shop near 8 and we went through some of the bureaucratic procedures, the main one being me paying the remainder of our fee for diving. Our divemaster, Usman, who came highly recommended from diving forums showed up late as well. Very nice guy, although despite being an English teacher, I could barely understand a word he was saying. We picked up some partial equipment for our dives today and got on a boat to Mabul. After an hour of speedboating across the sea, captained by a 16-year old boy, we arrived at a budget dive resort and our base of operations for today. Although Mabul is nicer than Semporna, the nicest dive resorts cost an arm and a leg and only come in packages. And this one was a budget one, which meant... pretty much crap. I have to say that my decision to stay in Dragon Inn was a spot-on winner.

Boats going somewhere but probably not diving

I'm not going to go on describing every dive today, for I did that on the blog from the Philippines. Just to say: TURTLE BONANZA. On our three dives today we say about 20 different green turtles, from baby ones to massive adults (probably over a hundred years old). Nudibranchs, frog fish, one baraccuda, two stingrays (congrats to my hon for the good eyes), sea spiders, crabs, giant shrimp and a countless number of schooling pelagic fish of the smaller variety (not even counting the small stuff). Having said that, the reef is mostly dead. And this is a tragedy. I read in Sipadan almost 95% is still alive, here in Mabul and Kapalai, the number is closer to 25%. Visibility was bad, with tons of sea snow floating around, the ground pretty muddied up, but all in all these were three great dives. In between we grabbed some lunch at the resort which was included in the price. Although Krysia wasn't happy that her lunch was looking at her (fish with a head).

Evening presented us with another problem: money running out and we need some for the next couple of days, but unfortunately the exchange is closed, we're leaving tomorrow morning into the jungle. Great. We'll have to think of something. So after dinner we went back home to think of things and here I am on the computer. Goodnight.

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.