More Toitles!

On Monday we took the same bus back to Sandakan that we had taken down, and just like before, it broke down. The cabin once more filled with steam from the radiator, and we pulled over to hose down the bus. I think they have it factored into the time table at this point.

The next morning we headed for the protected Turtle nesting grounds off the coast. The island serves as a hatchery for both Green Turtles and Hawksbills, so there are turtles crawling onto the beaches year round. Luckily for them, there is a curfew on tourists being allowed onto the beaches after sun down.

We sat in the office for a few hours that night until the Ranger spotted a nesting mother, and then went out to watch as the eggs were collected and deposited in the hatchery. Then back to the beach to let loose that night's hatchlings.

We got up at 5 next morning to watch the sunrise over the Ocean, and found two Green turtles blocking our path. Keeping a respectful distance, made a wide arc around them, and watched as they dragged themselves back to the more comfortable seas.

It was back to Kota Kinablu then to do sweet f-all, and relax. That was the plan, but instead we trekked through the rainforest on the island some shite show called Survivor was filmed on, and had a bath in the mud volcanoe. That was actualy quite nice. Not as warm as you'd think though. Erin's flight back to Tokyo was at midnight on Sunday, so left the island early that morning and spent the day in Kota Kinabalu stocking up on bras, as they had a good brand on sale there, and the ones in Japan are shit quality, apparently.

Click here for some photos of the hatchlings, amongst other things.

Sipidan

We'd heard so much about this island. From some that it's one of the top 5 dive sites in the world, and from others that it's on of the top 10. Either way, it was the best diving I've ever done. We spent a week in the town of Semporna with Scuab Junkies, taking the boat out every day, and coming back knackered every evening. It was brilliant!

Erin did her open water course, while I did the Advanced course, and we met up on the fourth day as dive buddies.

The other sites had more life than I hgad seen before, even in Thaialnd, but it was at Sipidan that I was blown away by the sheer density of aquatic life. In every direction there were fishes darting in and out of the coral, with Turtles joining the scene, gliding gracefully above.

As I looked over to the side, I think everyone could hear me exclaim as I saw my first shark in the gloom.

But there were more to come. Sipidan was an incredible diving experience. I could go on and on about everythign we saw. Instead, click here if you want to see more.

Are you America's next top model?

"No, I'm sorry, I'm not. Are you Malaysia's next top model?"

"Emmmm... Yes, I am!"

And so the interrogation from the teenage girls continued.

That was Saturday night and and we were staying with a family in a small village of Orang Sungei, "People of the River", who of course, as well as boats, also had dodgy satellite dishes. Electricity was for two hours a day though in certain buildings. Our main guides were some local kids with ridiculously good English who put on a show for us that night.

The "traditional" dance, was only as old as Malaysian state and I assumed it would be some type of plastic tourist show, so I was pleasantly surprised to see the boys and their friends in front of us on the jetty making mistakes, forgetting their steps: clearly just having some fun.

We arrived at that village from further up the Kinabatangan river, after spending 4 wonderful days at Uncle Tans jungle camp. Resort it is not, but I found the presence of a mat on a raised wooden surface, a mosquito net, and something resembling a Chinese prison cell as accommodation, to be far more luxurious that what I had prepared myself for. And the cacophony at night to be very soothing.

That place is wonderful. The local lads who work as guides all have some mild levels of insanity, with an infectious enthusiasm. They organise treks through the jungle at night and during the day, and rides of dinky boats up and down the river in the morning, afternoon, and after dark, where all the cool kids in the wildlife world hang out. Erin and I were lucky every time we went out and the amount of wildlife we saw was almost overwhelming.
Orang Utangs: We saw them up close at the Sepilok Rehabilitation Centre (they do good work, the centre that is...) but, of course, seeing a Mother and juvenile eating in the trees right above your head is a different story. Probiscus Monkeys, Long Tailed Macaques invading the camp at all hours trying to steal...everything! Horn-Bills, Kingfishers aaaaannnndddd CROCS! Yeah! They really do look a hell of a lot like logs...

Before heading back to the city, we stoppped off at the Gumantang Caves, and saw where the Bird's nests are harvested (now controlled with quotas) for Bird's Nest soup. Apparently the nest is made from some kind of scum that lies on the surface of the river. It's supposed to taste very good. I'll have to let you know later...

Important information I learned in the Malaysian Rain forest:

The most expensive coffee beans in the world are those that are first eaten by the nocturnal, and very rare, Civet cat, shat out, and THEN collected by the Coffee bean.....farmers...

Adult Male Orang-Utangs look very happy when they are peeing from trees onto unsuspecting trekkers and have ENORMOUS bladders. Mountains of Guano smell like... spores... Best not to breathe too deeply.

Tarantulas eat their young if they can't get a bird.

Long tailed Macaques are loveable BASTARDS who will one day figure out how to take a photo with the digital cameras they steal before they smash them on the ground. Some also have an unfortunate coke habit

Irish people are everywhere: I met two people from DCU who knew Ailbhe, Ross, Bernard, etc. etc. Bloody hell.

Oh, and I had great fun surprising Casey. We'd talked about our travel plans before leaving Japan, and realising how similar they were assumed that we'd just bump into each other in Laos or somewhere along the line. There she was walking towards me through the forest, and as she passed,

"Hi Casey"

"OH MY GOD!"

Yeah, I wonder who else is arsing around this corner of the world.

Click here to see the rest of the pictures, mine and Erin's.

On more serious note. The trip down the river was also a great eye opener into the destruction caused by Palm Oil. It was horrible. From any elevated position on Borneo, for as far as the eye can see, Palm Oil plantations have replaced the rainforest. I spent a lot of my time with the locals asking them about their thoughts on the plantations. The opinions were universal. Corporations are granted concessions to transform Virgin rainforest into plantations. Local people do not benefit economically from the plantations, and in fact their livelihoods suffer as fish stocks are depleted as general river health worsens, and much valued revenue from Eco-tourism fades. And the effect it has on other wildlife is even worse. Orang Utangs WILL be extinct in the wild within two decades at most because of the use of Palm Oil products to wash hands, instead of soup. The Rhino will be extinct in even less time as all attempts to breed them in captivity have failed. The list goes on and on, and is even worse in Indonesian Borneo. Google Earth it.

Palm Oil is not a sustainable biofuel, and will not help in cutting CO2 emmissions. Promoting the vast destruction of rainforest, and with it destruction of habitat, will only decrease biodiversity, increase CO2 levels over all, and destroy possibilities for sustainable economic growth in these developing countries. Like many other things, deciding whether to promote this or not begins at the Supermarket.

Mt. Kinabalu

I arrived in Sabah from Osaka on Friday afternoon, and met Erin who had arrived the day before. We had a nice look around the capital, Kota Kinabalu, and a nearby island, but were there for somethign else. We wanted to take on Mt. Kinabalu. Fuji was 3775m, and this was 4095m, so no worries. Well, maybe one. We didn't have accomadation booked at the final way point, and staying there is mandatory. Climbers rest for a few hours, and then tackle the summit that night to arrive just before sunrise.

We spent a day looking around the park at the base, which was had a really nice Botanical garden, and got permission from the ranger to climb to the final way point with the condition that if there was not even floor space for us, we would come back down. We agreed, and off we went with our guide (mandatory), a cheery local young man who much preferred getting paid to chat with us while exercising than working in a factory in Singapore.

On the way up, we were passed by a japanese woman in trainign for the race taking place the next week. She passed us again on her way back down before we had even made the station. The porters also put us to shame, carrying what looked like appliances on their backs!

We arrived at the final way point, but no joy. Even all of the floor space had been taken up, so it looked like we would have to go back down without reaching the summit.

Off we went, thiundering up the mountain, before our lungs reminded us that the air was a good bit thinner...

The dealine came and went, our guide was waiting behind, so onward and upward with two random Malay guys who trying the same thing. We got to the top and had the tiny summit all to ourselves. I took out my flute to celebrate by playing "Mary had a little lamb", but it was not to be. No matter how hard I blew, I couldn't get enough air through the flute to make the tiniest of sounds.

All the practice for nought. Should have taken up the violin...

With the sun swiftly setting, we raced down the mountain, getting past the second ranger station before dark. Out came the headlamps, and on came the sore knees. Our legs were in bits for the whole of the next week!

Click here to see more photos.

Last Random Snaphot

Sniff.

The final collecion of random photos that I've taken with my Mobile Phone, forgotten about, and then discovered on it's memory card months later. Click here for more.

Packing

It's getting late, and I'm going through a going through a very special old box in my apartment: a box of letters. I spent some time sitting on my couch re-reading them, some sent almost 2 years ago. I'm glad I did. I wasn't sure what I should keep, but I know I must keep them all.

At the impersonal level, if someone should ever care to write something about me, they would be an invaluable source. Far more informative than any e-mail, many of them have that feeling of intimacy that only a pen scratching into paper can reveal.

At the personal level, they are gateways to memories of old emotions. Emotions felt again, fleetingly, as I'm transported back to their time. I don't forget what happened after, or how those emotions changed, but that does not stop me from enjoying them for that moment. And so, I shall keep them all, adding to their box as the years pass, and reading them again when I'm feeling forgetful.