The River

What next for are 2 young (ish) explorers?
A nice leisurely trip down the river after the daft excesses of mountain climbing? Rather!!!
Before we left for our next adventure, I took the opportunity to do some more scuba diving in KK. I won't bore you with all the wicked fish I saw, except maybe that I saw my first frogfish, have a butchers at that fella :) In fact when I get a minute of time, I'll set up a diving blog to record all the fish that I see. Nice! The best thing about doing the diving was that I met this couple called Frankie and Gino. I thought they looked familiar and it turns out they've been living in Brighton for the last 2 years, I still can't place them though. Anyone know a couple called Frankie and Gino? Anyway they're the kind of people who we'd be friends with at home, well sound! There's a lot of idiots (I'm being polite) we've met whilst on our little jaunt, so its really refreshing to meet some normal (ish) people :)
I'm also counting as normal, an Aussi girl called Anna that we met on a trip out to one of the islands, apart from telling me my new mask was crap, she turned out to be just as sound and we'll be sure to pay her a visit at her undersea palace below Perth (she works at an underwater viewing facility south of Perth, so no, she's not a mermaid queen).

Kinabatangan River is wildlife central smack in the middle of Sabah. Drive inland for about 3 hours from Sandakan to a place called Sukau and you're there. Much of that drive is along a bumpy nightmare of a road, surrounded on all sides by the wreckage of logging and huge Palm oil plantations, not a great sight, but they've got to make a living out of some of the land I suppose. It's difficult coming over here and not despairing at the decimation of the rainforests, but on the other hand we've destroyed most of our wild areas, so who are we to speak.

Thankfuly some of the rainforests are now protected and the river is a corridor of life left untouched through the plantations. We stayed at a place called Sukau Tomanggong Riverview Lodge, a simple place, but incredibly beautiful. It's places like this that make you realize how lucky we are to be able to come to Borneo and see the things we're seeing. Sitting on the river bank, beer in hand, watching monkeys over the other side of the river and hornbills flying over your head, is what life is all about!
After settling in at the lodge we were quickly on our way down the river in a small boat, just the 2 of us plus our guide and boat driver. We were in for an amazing 2 hours of wildlife spotting, I thought we'd seen a lot at Baku, but that was nothing compared to this experience. Within a few minutes of leaving we spotted some Proboscis monkeys sitting in the Mangrove trees nibbling away on the young leaves, noses wobbling.
You can never get bored seeing these monkeys, but after a while we set off down the river again and then saw some of those nasty long tailed macaques. Without having to beat them off with a stick, we carried on our river venture, hornbills flying overhead. Along the way we saw a type of bird called an Oriental Darter, looks like a heron type thing, also saw lots of egrets around the rivers edge. The guide, Addy, took our boat to a particular place on the river bank and in a tree a few meters into the jungle was an Orang Utan, asleep in its nest. Addy must have known that there was a nest here and we were just lucky that this time it had something in it. You could see a bit of orange fuzz and a big hand lazily hanging out of the nest and even though this was all you could see, I was still pleased that we'd seen a bit of an Orang Utan in the wild. Suddenly there came a massive banging sound and the little bit of orange fuzz turned into afull grown, huge,adult male Orang Utan, looking a bit pissed off that it had been woken up. The boat driver had gone around to the tree and had started banging on it as hard as he could, a sure fire way to wake an Orang Utan up. The big ape sat there in its tree looking resigned and we were able to get some pics and get a good look at it. Absolutely superb! We'd been hoping to see some wild elephants as well and they'd been seen only the other day, but unfortunately our luck ran out, which was a shame, cause they're pygmy elephants, a type only found in Borneo. Still, on a walk through the jungle the next day, we saw some elephant footsteps and poo, bonus! Carrying on the river cruise, we saw lots more birds, Chris and Tina, you would love it here, even I'm liking the birds, we saw a sea eagle, a buzzard and a storm stork. We also came across some pig tailed macaques that looked a lot more placid and friendly than their long tailed, evil brothers. That was our first of 3 cruises and we'd already seen 4 types of monkey, 2 types of hornbill, 6 or 7 other bird species and a monitor lizard.
The next morning we were up bright and early to go on a dawn river trip. Mist rolled across the river making for an atmospheric ride. We saw plenty of birds flying about and saw monkeys scampering about in the trees. The boat pulled up under a tree at one point and Addy pointed out a snake curled up in the branches, very cool! We also saw a couple of Orangs in the trees, but it was from a bit of a distance and they just looked like black blobs. Later that day we went for a walk through the rainforest with Addy. I should point out at this point that it was my birthday, so thanks for me emails, cards and presents! I was also to receive another present on the walk, though I wouldn't discover it till much later. The walk was hot, sweaty and a bit muddy, all the things we'd come to expect from the jungle and was fairly pleasant, we didn't see a lot of animal activity, except for a few insects and a monitor lizard. We were sitting down enjoying some beer back at the lodge, we'd had a shower and were chilling out. Sam suddenly noticed some blood on the front of my shorts. Alarmed I went back to my room to investigate and discovered to my horror that a leech had got me, on my old man!!! A jungle birthday present! The leech had long gone, but I'd picked up another leech on my leg earlier in the day and removed it before it could do any harm, so I knew it was a leech. It must have shimmied its way up my leg looking for something juicy to have a drink from and it hit the jackpot! That was my first leech bite and although it didn't hurt I don't fancy another one....in that area :)

The final cruise was at night and allowed us to see some owls, the first owls I've ever seen I think and with the aid of a torch powered by a car battery I was able to get a photo. We also saw some leopard cats which are basically normal size cat types, but with leopard colouring. Of our 2 hour cruise, half of it was spent moored to the bank as the engine wouldn't work, I was seriously thinking we were going to be spending the night out there until Addy got it fixed.
The wildlife around the Kinabatangan river was simply unbelievable! It's one of a growing number of experiences that will stay with us forever and if anyone is thinking about their next holiday, its holiday of a lifetime type stuff here in Borneo :)

More wildlife photos, no leech shots ;)

Hamble Climbs The Mountain.

"You'll never climb mountain with these ankle!" Exclaimed Lillian, the pedicurist. I should realise by know that a simple trip to a beauty parlour comes with a hidden price-tag - that of a swift personal insult. Perhaps to the Chinese, leg oedema is an unknown phenomenon, but to the Croom, it has been like a close personal friend for the last 5 months. It didn't end there, after 45 minutes of scraping, filing, and de-hoofing with a pick-axe, Lillian went to great lengths to tell me how dirty my feet had been. Not really listening, more observing she hadn't actually cut my toenails (? the reason I went in) at least their prehensile qualities were a nice pearlescent pink...."and there were lot of yellow to scrape off..." she droned. O.K. Lillian - I get the message. Well Lillian, if you'd spent the last 6 months trawling in the filth I have, you may be in a similar boat. Coiffed, bedecked in gold and middle-aged she may have been, but Lillian was nothing if not shrewd. "Take this," she said reaching for a tube of algae. At 25 quid a throw, she seemed to think I could afford it. The pedicure was a mere fiver, though I'm sure she considered mine more surgical than most and now she was to reap the rewards. She was wearing glasses, so it wasn't exactly danger money she was due. Still, she did some kind of swift manoevre which involved me emptying my purse on the counter. "But Lillian, I need some money left for lunch!" "It's O.K. - you eat in Malaysia for 10 Ringitt!" I left, algae in hand, more determined than most, to climb Mt. Kinabalu.

Mt. Kinabalu stands 4,097 metres above sea level. It is the highest mountain between the Himalayas and New Guinea and billed as "one the easiest to climb," (by who? Tenzing Norgay?)That was about all we knew. When I initially mentioned to Andy that we should climb to the Pinnacles in Gunung Mulu National Park, he'd said it was a ridiculous idea and we just weren't up to it. So when, between us, we came up with the notion of climbing Kinabalu (which is much more difficult), I began to question our sanity. I didn't question it in time though as we booked the thing with a hangover. After arriving in KK after the sobriety of Brunei, we went for it in rather a big way. So here we were - big mountain, few bars of Fruit 'n' Nut (what a find) and a couple of those hand-warming pouches. Courtesey of the Filipino night market, I'd developed a touch of the Borneo Belly and this didn't do much to inspire confidence in my strength for the exertions ahead.

The mountain was first conquered by Sir Hugh Low in 1851, but they reckon it was more difficult in those days. I think not - especially given that it grows 5mm in height each year. He might have had almost a metre less to climb up, but it was the impermeablilty of the jungle which posed the difficulty back then. Obviously, with all the deforrestation going on, we were going to have an easier time of it. It was also believed that the spirits of the dead inhabited the mountain and so the porters of the 1851 expedition brought baskets of crystals and teeth as talismen. In order to appease the spirits, the porters performed prayers, fired guns and ensured the sacrifice of 7 eggs and 7 white chickens. Low gave his name to the peak of the mountain and also to the mile-deep gully where a group of climbers became stuck in 1994 and had to remain for 3 weeks until they could be rescued!! At only 9 million years old, the mountain is relatively young. It formed when an igneous mass pushed its way through the ground and you can still see the glacial effects on the mountian's surface in the form of striations. Oh, Ken Griff would be loving all this!

Kinabalu Park, a couple of hours from KK, provided the base camp. Placed at 1,000 metres above sea level, the change in climate was already palpable and as I shivered my was through the night, I imagined us developing frost bite in the hut accommodation provided at 3,000 metres up the mountain, where we were to spend our second night. We knew that the weather was key to our enjoyment (and accomplishment) of the expedition and as we watched the clouds roll in over the summit, we hoped the mountain spirits were feeling charitable. The morning of the ascent, we met our guide, Vardsley - a young 16 year old wippet with limited command of English. He seemed very sweet, but I was hoping for a wiry old bloke with a beard who knew how to survive on moss and make a bivouak (well, you never know). Inspired by the records set by the youngest and the oldest to conquer the summit - 5 and 95 respectively, we set off on that beautiful morning with a clear view of Mt. Kinabalu and all its majesty.

To begin with, it was a load of steps fashioned from tree roots and the odd plank of wood here and there. It transpires that there are actually 2,500m of the blighters. Not blessed with the longest of pins, I'd always likened my legs to those of Hambel from Playschool. No knees to speak of, the only way of telling where the join is, is to watch where they bend. And at least at the beginning of the walk, that's what they could do. It is expected that most people ascend to Laban Rata, the accommodation at 3,000 metres, within 4-6 hours. It was pretty tough going and we made good use of the shelters along the way. Though we had brought minimal stuff with us, our thermals and the emergency suplies began to feel quite heavy within half an hour. Vardsley came good at this point and offered to carry my backpack - what a beauty. It made things much easier. We spotted the occasional pitcher plant along the way and there were a few squirrels scuttling around scavanging for food, but otherwise, we were concentrating on each footstep as it was pretty rocky most of the way.

After about four hours, we were beginning (well, maybe not just beginning) to get rather knackered. The uphill was relentless and the steps steep and unforgiving. As the air began to thin, it became harder to catch our breath. Of course if you've climbed mountains before, you're used to the added pressures of altitude sickness. Just at the right time, we met a couple of Northerners and we managed to chivvy each other along no end. Hannah was from Yarm and Phil a Darlo lad and together we soldiered on. You definitely moan less when there are other people about! The previous day's climbers passed us along the way on their descending aspect. Most looked O.K. but some were in a very shabby state indeed. "Dear me, they must be very unfit," I mused as we went cheerfully about our uphill business.

After this, we just took it nice and easy and had very frequent rest breaks. From the start of our climb, we'd seen the trees change from dipterocarp to alpine and as we got higher still, the trees decreased in height and began to look a bit dead. They weren't the only ones, but spurred on by the beautiful view which was opening up before us, we began to feel more hopeful that we were approaching our goal. At this point we were above the clouds and we could now view the rock faces of the mountainside. Far in the distance was our base camp...but even further in the distance was our destination. Some 7 hours later, we reached Laban Rata. O.K. so this put us in the not-so-fit category, but surely it's better to enjoy oneself than prove a point. This formidable Scooby Doo house (what house? There hasn't been a house here for hundreds of years?) perched on the mountain did nothing to welcome us... we were in for a long night.

Sustained with a pot of crap tea and a bite to eat (actually not so hungry afterall - one of the symptoms of altitude sickness is nausea and loss of appetite), we made our way to our unheated hut at Panar Laban - another 10 minutes further uphill. This was to be our overnight sanctuary. A spartan corrugated-iron shed with a couple of bunkbeds and a horsehair blanket for company provided the essentials. Luckily, the other bunk remained empty overnight and the only person to witness my dash from shower-to-bed was my ever-loving. Dressed only in towel, head-torch and hiking boots, I looked a picture and despite promise of a hot shower, I had to contend with alpine-fresh iced water. Of course, this was not the brightest idea as it froze my buttocks for several hours. At this point, Andy refused to let me into his bunk for a de-frost. He's all too familiar with my cold-retaining Thermos action cheeks.

Fully dressed and with sleeping bag, three blankets (nicked from other bunks) and a bottle of mineral water filled with hot-water (genius - thanks Katie) down my top, I tried my best to get some kip. Trouble with altitude (although only at 3,000 metres), it makes you pee a lot. So every hour or so, we'd brave the elements again and christen the mountain. It's easy to get dehydrated, so you have to keep drinking - which obviously doesn't help your quest for sleep! After maybe a couple of hours kip in all, Andy made us hot chocolate and a quick dab of Maxalon (anti-sickness med), a couple of paracetamol for both of us (pounding headches are also symtom of mild altitude sickness), I was ready to get it over and done with. You need to understand here that we'd risen at 2am in order to reach the summit for sunrise! Ludicrous, I know. And so off we went with Hannah & Phil into the darkness of Kinabalu.

It's not easy when you've got someone's arse in your face and you're trying to haul yourself up a sheer rock face with a rope attached to the mountainside. The one in front of me was big enough to keep me fascinated enough to distract from the image I had on occasion when I allowed my torch to shine left or right of our path. It appeared as a sheer cliff descending into nothingness...I only worried what might be revealed once the sun rose. Given our stirling time the previous day I wasn't optimistic about us reaching the top of Borneo in the usual 2-3 hours. It's best to be realsitic about these things. It seemed that the roped areas were never-ending and some parts were very steep. On occasion, a magic sheepskin-glove belonging to Vardsley would appear and he would take my hand for the dangerous parts. Thank God the weather had and still was, holding out. Though it was freezing, it was dry and this was most important. The wind too was not so strong - another bonus when you're dangling precariously from a precipice. It wasn't long before Phil started puking. The Thai Red Bull he'd had for breakfast had done him no favours and the mountain gods seemed angry. My mountain rescue medicine did nothing for him, so we did the honest thing and left him to it. Some time later, they caught up with us. Thankfully young Phil was transformed and ready for more.

Our vista became illuminate as the sun eventually rose. It revealed the sharp grey limestone peaks of the mountain - notably "The Donkey's Ears," which had seemed so distant on our night spent at basecamp. Sabah opened up before our eyes and then, it all went a bit queer. Andy's face looked really yellow. "No pet, I feel fine!" he reassurred me. He might have done, but I did not. I suddenly fely very weak and dizzy and next thing I know, I'm having a lump of chocolate forced into my mouth and being made to eat it ( a first for everything). Like some kind of diabetic moment, within minutes I felt so very much better and decided it was high time to get on with things. The Donkey's Ears might have been giving me the two-fingered salute and the mountain Gods angry, but it would take more than that to defeat Hamble. I'm so very glad that Sherpa Masters had the wherewithall to film my decline.

To cut the 4 hour ascent story short, we made it to the summit. Well, to tell the truth, I stopped about 20m from the actual marker flag because it was really windy. A death had occurred a few years ago, which concerned me somewhat. Vardsley said it still counted though and that we were both elligible for the highly-esteemed colour certificate (at 10 Ringgitts). Had we been unsuccessfull in our mission, we would have only received the black-and-white version (at 2 Ringgitts). Hurray!! We'd done it. Now the only thing left to do was get back down. Leaving Panar Laban at 10.30, I figured would give us an ETA of about 2pm i.e. our descent time would be half that of our ascent. On the way back, The Ears seemed to be giving me the thumbs up.

How more wrong can you be? The descent was, by far, the most agonising of all. In retrospect, the climb up was very enjoyable...funny how one can have such amnesia when it comes to 2,500 steps. My discofort was being compounded my too-long toenails - that pesky Lillian! In desperation I trimmed my nails by pulling off the excess, which helped immesurably. Our pace seemed to be 500m per hour. This would never do. At this rate, we wouldn't be back to base until 5pm, we would have to speed up. Andy had lost the will to live and there was another 3.5km to go. At the 3km marker, I sprained my ankle. Not that I did anything to it, it was just the repetitive strain of all those steps!! En-route we encountered a girl who had badly hurt her knee. She was notable because she was the only person we managed to overtake. There was also a girl being carried down by a porter, who appeared to be in agony of sorts. Another casualty was a middle-aged man who cheerfully reported "Weak Legs!" as the reason for two porters supporting him on either side and dragging him down. Weak legs? We also heard reports of a Frenchman who smashed his face and teeth in as he was trying to run down a scary bit.

The record set for both ascending and descending is 2hrs 41 minutes. At our own personal-best of 22 hours, we might have been the third-last people to pass the final checkpoint, but we hadn't, like some, turned back on day one, we weren't one of the injured, and we were still speaking to each other. Result. Unfortunatley, a longer-than-expected journey to Poring Hot Springs, didn't quite deliver the luxurious spa experience we'd both been hoping for. The 20 quid-a-night room was shabby and it when you were in bed it actually felt like you were lying in a pie. They (twin beds again) were shrouded in brown faux-leather padding on all sides. The Hot Springs were O.K. - quite relaxing, but very dark. Having made it down the "Big Hill" in one piece, I didn't want the embarrassment of injuring myself tripping over a hosepipe. The communal shower had a flying cockroach and mozzies for company. We bumped into and had dinner with Stuart & Katie who we'd met a couple of days earlier. A well-earned beer and curry session sorted us out and we hobbled off for an early night. As I massaged my platinum-priced algae into my Hambles whilst sitting in my pie-bed, I felt pleased to have proved Lillian wrong. We might not be headed for K2, but maybe next time we'll train for it...the morning after was pain as neither of us had ever known. Andy had to dress me and the only hope of my doing stairs was on my bum. Oh, the dignity...

Top of the Mountain: A short film depicting Sam's decline.

Kota Kinabalu

Kota Kinabalu (KK) is the provincial capital of Sabah, the other half of Malaysian Borneo and is where we've been hiding out since we left Brunei. KK is a long sprawl of a city resting besides the South China Sea and to be honest its not the best place we've been to. In its favour it does sell alcohol and after a 3 day drought in Brunei, we were eager to start beering it up again. We toured KK's restaurants and bars, managing to avoid a limpet stringer by the name of Greg who'd clamped himself to us one night in Miri and who I'd spotted here in KK, luckily before he spotted us! Reminiscing about Japan, we ended up in a Karaoke bar which had the worst selection of songs ever, Michael Bolton and Sea-lion Dion having the 'lions' share of the menu. The only interesting thing about KK is its Marlin statue on the sea front and its cracking sunsets. Other than that, it's a bit of a nothing place, not a lot to do here except use it as a base for our adventures.
First up was a spot of Scuba diving around some small islands 15 minutes off the coast. Sam hasn't dived since Vietnam and unfortunately has developed a fear of diving. We thought that she might try a dive here and see how it went. The night before our dive however, we could here it raining heavily all night and rain tends to mess up the visibility underwater, so when the alarm clock went off, Sam decided that she definitely wasn't going to do it. I walked down to the dive shop and a small group of us jumped into a speed boat and headed out to the dive site. As the sea got choppier, the clouds grew blacker and the rain / hail started to hammer down on me I was sooooooo relieved that Sam had decided to stay at the hotel. The weather was terrible and even I was fairly nervous, wondering what my fellow divers thought about the conditions. When we arrived at the dive site, just next to a little island, the rain was so hard that I could see only about 100 meters around the boat. As I was wondering how bad it was, a girl next to me said 'what's that grey thing in the water', turning we all looked and there was a turtle popping its head up to get some air, at the same time I looked up and saw an eagle flying overhead, even in crap conditions, that's what's good about Borneo!
After agreeing that the boat would give 3 big revs of the engine if the weather deteriorated further and also before I vomited over everyone we got our kit on and jumped over the side. The visibility below that surface was 8-12 meters, surprisingly not to bad, but what a boring dive. Loads of dead coral everywhere and we also came across a massive net with lots of dead fish in it....great. I saw a few Nemo's and a decent sized batfish, but that was it, my worst dive ever. Luckily the second dive of the day was loads better. By the time we'd had lunch, the weather had brightened up no end and we relocated to a different dive site. The visibility was about the same, but the coral was in a much better state and there were plenty of fish about. After diving down to 20 meters, we swam along and came across a pile of tyres on the sea bed. These had been colonised by all manner of critters, a nice stonefish sat in the middles looking all stoney, I saw my first crayfish and some really cool looking shrimps that I later discovered were called Durban Hinge-beaked Shrimps. After the tyres, we swam over the reef and saw some nice lionfish, cuttlefish, angelfish, nemo's and always a winner, a turtle.
Our hotel in KK is called Borneo Backpackers and is ok, nice decor etc, but at times populated by annoying English lads and unhelpful staff. Before we encountered KK induced depression, we took ourselves off once again into the hinterland and this time we thought we'd test our fitness to the limits by walking up a mountain, stupid? Yes we certainly are, I ain't never climbin' no mountain again!

Next time on the Andy and Sam blog: Hamble Climbs the Mountain

Cakes 'n' Booties

Can I first of all point out this is not an ultrasound of my womble!! So calm down everyone - mine is well and truly barren...(phew)
I've been harbouring two massive secrets for far too long now. This blog is dedicated to good tidings and congratualtions to 4 people very close to our hearts.

The first secret, is that we are about to become Auntie Sam & Uncle Andy once again. My brother Math and his wife Louise are expecting their first baby in November! It is truly exciting and while we won't be home in time for his/her arrival, we will be celebrating Kiwi style! Here it is all snuggly and warm at five months old. Poor Mum has had sickness and headaches and all sorts to contend with while Dad has been away diving which has given him opportunity to think of amusing baby names such as "Stella" (after his favourite beer). I remember Mum telling me during an online chat some months ago whilst we were in Cambodia. We toasted the moment with a couple of bottles of Angkor beer - how about "Baby Angkor?" It would be original... We still don't know if it will have pink or blue booties, we'll have to wait another four months to find out. Well done you two!!! We're over the moon!

Secondly, another reason to wheel out the champagne (and didn't we have trouble trying to find some in Kuala Lumpur?) is that there has been a proposal. A proposal which, I might add, was quickly and graciously accepted. (Again, this does not involve me, so chill out). There we were on the beach in the Perhention Islands (or rather there I was - Andy had gone off for a dive), when I happened to look over to "Beer Corner" where Em & Andrew were having lunch. It appeared as though Andrew had fallen over, for there he was on his knees in the sand. I thought nothing more of it, but thought how in love they looked on walking across the beach together. As they approached me, Em flashed me her big shiny ring, which startled me somewhat. After much "He didn't !!" "He did!" "You're not??" "We are!!" I only finally believed them when I saw that Andrew was a bit pale and wobbly. And Em was probably the nearest she'd ever come to speechless. We celebrated that night with warm chardonnay (sorry guys)...we'll get the Verve in in January '07. Enjoy the Charles and Diana shot and lets hope the ending is more favourable ("Whatever love means") and that Andrew won't run off with a Rod Hull lookalike. So there it is, two happy stories for us all to rejoice in. Congratulations to you all. Let the panic over trust funds, cakes and dresses commence...

Bored in Brunei

"Lets go to Brunei for the weekend!" Sounded very exotic, especially as I thought Brunei was in the Middle East somewhere. Must be something to do with the oil connection. Well, it was on the way, so we popped in...and quickly popped back out the other side. As one of the smallest and richest countries in the world, it's a bit of a funny place. After 48 hours we legged it in search of something interesting to do (and O.K. we were desperate for a beer). You see, the old Sultan has made it a dry country, though we have it on good authority that he gambles and drinks like the best of us. This gem of gossip came courtesey of our taxi driver at 6:30 this morning. A mental Chinese on speed, he was well into his sixties and an avid ballroom dance teacher. Compared to us two who were wilting and knackered on the back seat, he cut quite an animated character who enjoyed gesticulating with both hands as he drove us to the ferry terminal. We might not have been in the mood for his banter, but this was actually one of the most amusing things that happened to us during our 48 hour in Negara Brunei Darussalam.

In order to bring booze into the country, you have to apply for a special license. This enables you 12 cans of beer and a bottle of the hard stuff for personal consumption only. Now, we weren't that desperate but we knew that because of the enforcement, it would be the first thing we fancied. A similar experience to being on-call for the weekend. Except being on- call is a lot more fun. Maybe this is unfair, there is more to tell...

The other thing of note was that Andy ordered a "Club Sandwich" for lunch yesterday. Looking forward to a sarnie packed full of delights and held together with cocktail sticks, he was a little disappointed with the ensemble that was set before him. There instead of the usual fillings, was a pile of dry toast. There with the toast was a little dish of marmalade and another of honey. This was complimented with a side of chips. Of course it was rather hilarious watching the poor feller explain that "where we come from, that's not a club sandwich." The explanation of there being "no ham" (there's a wonder) did nothing to appease a hungry Andrew. Realising I'd have to share my chicken murtabak soon shut me up.

Apart from that, we took a water taxi driven by a serial killer. In fact they all look like serial killers. I don't know if this has anything to do with "Wolf Creek," but you certainly look at people in a different light. If you haven't seen it you must - especially before we reach Oz (except Mum & Dad). Based on a true story, it's about three backpackers who break down in the middle of nowhere and are 'rescued' by a mental. It's in the post to Heidi as we speak. But really you don't have any other choice in Brunei...there are no land taxis and the buses are quite confusing. Set on the river is a series of very interesting stilt villages, an area known as Kampung Ayer and often decsribed as "Venice of the East." I note they also said this of Hanoi. We set about exploring the villages along the wooden walkways as our request to be taken to the Palace had been unsuccessful. We hopped aboard, and the little feller said he's take us to the Palace. Upon reaching the Palace, he just stopped the boat in the middle of the river. Explaining that we wanted to get and have a look around the place, he said there was nowhere for us to alight. Excuse me, but are we back in Thailand? O.K so he didn't murder us but with his T-shirt over his head like that, he was doing a good impression of a sea-bandit.

So while the Sultan is rolling in money, the stilt villages clearly are not. There are 28 villages in Kampung Ayer and around 30,000 people live there. Despite their appearance on the outside though, they're actually quite nice inside - with satellite T.V. and everything else. The people were certainly very friendly, especially the little kids. I worried that they could all swim, as it looked very easy to fall in...no wonder booze is a no-no. In addition to brightly painted homes, there were shops, cafes and businesses. Juxtaposing the ramshackle, is the majestic Omar Ali Saifuddien Mosque (above) which is named after the 28th Sultan. It was the nicest mosque we've seen so far in SEA and very photogenic as the clouds rolled over and warned us of an impending thunder storm. I wanted to go inside, while Andrew elected to stay on the periphery. It wasn't long before I was presented with a massive black gown to make me decent. Although it was very hot and itchy, it was still preferable to all the stares I'd been getting wandering around the town. Though I dress quite decently, I can't bring myself to cover my arms when it's 40 degrees hot. And it doesn't do any good - they all seem to be gagging for it.

Knowing we were in for rain, we headed by water taxi to the Brunei Museum. I sold it to Andy on the basis of there being a stuffed animal contingent on display. Speeding off in a water taxi, the feller gave me an umbrella and proceeded to put on a So'wester. As we soildiered on into the looming darkness, the weather changed dramatically and the storm commenced. Soaking wet and wind-blown, we arrived at the museum resembling North Sea fishermen. To make things worse, the taxidermy collection was under rennovation and we had to endure the "History of Oil" instead. There were some rather gorgeous Qu'aran in the Islamic Art section which was full on very beautiful antiques, but little else besides. Oh, apart from a group of mannequins demonstrating a male circumcision. Not that it was graphic or anything (not in Brunei!) but you could tell from his face.

That evening we were too knackered to explore the country's nightlife. With no bars or pubs and no nightlife, it's a pretty quiet place, so we had a heavy pizza session instead. This induced a meat-feast-related coma which lasted for 11 hours and even then I had to haul myself out of bed...could there have been some Cambodian influence in the recipe? Forcing ourselves, we worked out the bus system (there are no bus stops, you just flag one down wherever) and headed for the Jame'asr Hassanal Bolkiah Mosque. A stunning example of Islamic artistry, we wandered around its exterior in awe of its opulence. And thankfully there was nobody there to shroud me in black and hide my womanliness! We also had a jaunt around this place - lets call it the "Pink and Green Mosque" as I don't know it's name.

Even though it was the Sultan's 60th birthday, we didn't see the processions or fireworks that were supposed to be happening. His picture is all over the place and I think he's quite handsome. Sort of looks like Andy when the beard's right. He's got a brother - Prince Jefri or someone, who was exiled to England for squandering several billion of the country's wealth. Ballroom-dancing-"look-no-hands"-speed-freak says it was something to do with very expensive prostitutes... Other sources suggest he was purchasing bog brushes made of gold and lots of fancy hotels, a 50-metre yacht called Tits and a fine pair of speedboats - Nipple I and Nipple II!

While we may have only been to the capital of Brunei - Bandar Seri Begawan (or BSB as it's known), we'd seen the main sights. As oil is the big earner here, the surrounding areas of rainforest and rivers remain in pristine condition as logging is not big business (thankfully). However, we're making for Malaysian Borneo again as we already know it's gorgeous and they have bars stocked with ice-cold beer...

Mulu

Mulu is the main National park in Sarawak, famous for its ginormous caves, beautiful rainforests and difficult walks up to and around its mountains. Sam had been ill with 'flu for about 3-4 days and seemed to be on the mend, so like any caring boyfriend I stuck her in a tiny plane and sent her for some hot, sweaty walks in the jungle. Unfortunately the minute I had booked the accommodation and flights, she had a relapse and so had to spend the rest of the day doing Suduko flu'd up to the max, in various modes of transport and then in our room at Mulu. Luckily our room, which was in a longhouse, turned out to be a lovely air conditioned retreat from the humidity and was in fact the perfect place to stay whilst ill, even more than our place in Miri.

Casting aside all Sam's plaudits about my own bravery, I left her in the room and went for a stroll in the jungle to see some caves. I'll fast forward this bit, because the next morning, Sam was feeling miles better and I was able to take her on the same walk I had been on the day before to see the caves. The a/c, a good sleep and my tender cardiac nursing care had finally paid off and after dragging the Sudoku book from her paws, we ventured forth into the wild jungle. In Mulu however, they've brought a little bit of civilisation to the rainforest in the form of a boarded walkway, which stretches for the whole journey to the caves. So not quite so wild then. While this may seem a little bit of a cop out to some, after having now plodded through several jungly walks, it did make for a nice change.

Walking through the jungle is an exhilarating experience every time, but you can spend a lot of your time just looking at your feet making sure you don't trip up and so therefore missing most of the wildlife en route. Not having to worry about falling over so much, meant we could spend the whole time searching for bugs. There are animals around, but you've got to be really lucky to see them. Noisy human walkways and shy creatures don't mix well. We actually did see some macaques ( evil ) and also managed to spot a couple of pygmy squirrels, the worlds smallest squirrel, which I think must be pretty lucky considering they're only a bit bigger than a mouse. We more than made up for the lack of animals though, with the insane amount of weird bugs we saw. What helped as well was that there was a hand rail running the entire length of the walkway which turned out to be some kind of insect highway.















Sam has turned into some kind of entomologist and can spot the tiniest of beetles to the hugest of caterpillers a mile off in even the densest jungles, how she kept spotting emerald lizards amongst all the undergrowth, I'll never know, maybe its her Sudoko enhanced mind? We spent about an hour or so slowly wandering through the trees yelping with excitement with each new insect or lizard we found, taking photos and little films. It was one of the most enjoyable walks so far I think, it was nice and cool under the canopy and we only met about one other person the whole way.

At the end of the walkway you come to the bat viewing area which is situated at the base of a cliff face where there's an enormous cave called Deer cave. Out of this cave at dusk stream 2-3 million bats, not all at the same time, but in groups of 10,000 or so, which lessens their chances of being eaten by the lurking hawks and other birds of prey. The previous day I did spy a hawk swooping into a mass of bats. Before the bat display we had a look around the two caves that were there, the first one was called Langs cave, named after a local Penan who discovered it. A small cave full of stalactites and mites and some nice jellyfish shaped formations, we'd seen all this kind of thing before, so didn't hang around in there too long.

We then headed to Deer cave, so called, because this was where the local tribes would catch a lot of their deer. This cave was spectacular due to its size and....its smell. The smell comes from the guano produced by the 3 million odd bats that were clinging to its roof and made for one of the stinkiest encounters this young nose has ever had. An intense ammonia smell that could have raised the dead and came very close to making our eyes bleed! We managed to soldier on through the ammonia cloud which dissipated after we were out of bat range, but the stench was well worth putting up with for the grandeur of our surroundings. The cave was ginormously humungous! You could have easily fitted Westminster cathedral inside with spare room for a few other churches too. It took us about 15 minutes to walk the length of the cave which was very dark, following a path that was lit up with fairy lights and in the glow of the lights you could see grim looking spider webs and the odd beastie lying in wait.

At one point we came across a hairless bat clinging to a post, surrounded be weird earwig type insects, a scene from your darkest nightmare! Apparently, we'd hit upon a bat cleaning station and the rank golden earwigs are actually chewing on bits of rank bat skin! Upon reaching the end of the cave we greeted by the sight of the jungle which looked amazing. Some time ago, the roof had collapsed allowing a hidden area of jungle to grow, like something from Jurassic Park. I could easily imagine us bumping into a pterodactyl. The cave continued on after this Garden of Paradise, as it was called, but we couldn't reach it from this point, so we headed back and sat down at the bat viewing area to wait for their dusk exodus. By the time the bats started flying out, there seemed to be more people than bats, no idea where they'd all come from, but it was all too much of a shitfight for us, so we meandered our way back to our room, spotting giant millipedes and other cool insects on the way.

Theres much more to do at Mulu than our lame efforts, but we're using Sam's illness as our excuse and we'd already booked our return flight. There our some hard walks you can do, namely the Pinnacles and the Headhunters Trail, the latter being a long walk following the route that Warring tribes used to take and the Pinnacles being 40 meter high, sharp limestone formations at the top of a mountain. We were flown over said mountain on our way back to Miri by the pilot, who kindly flew us within touching distance. We'd seen them the easy way, but there are many challenges ahead of us I feel...

Saya Suka Pedas Lagi!

It's been a while since I mentioned food. Rather unusual I know - it must be the heat. Malaysian food is rather tasty. The thing we first discovered was Nasi Lemak. This was first tested out in Langkawi and came wrapped in a parcel of newspaper. It consisted of a mound of coconut rice, with dollop of spicy chicken curry sat on top. We went on to discover the baby octopus, beef and prawn versions. Very tasty and kept you going all day. Going with the theme of portable foodstuff, we experimented with ominous morsels wrapped in banana leaves. Ranging from the barely edible to the downright unrecongizable, we soon learnt to give these a wide birth.

Nasi Lemak in other quarters involes a complicated mix of flavours and accompaniments. To compliment the chicken/rice combo, you typically get a kind of spicy jam ("spicy jam? The dirty..."), a boiled egg and a pile of little dried fish (ikan bilis). Nice all in all but a bit too heavy on the dead poisson flavour for me. I quite like saying it though "Ikan bilis!"

There is the usual array of Chinese and Indian eateries - mostly very lovely with a cracking array of seafood. One recent meal of note was a dish of soft-shell crabs in a tempura batter. Served whole (shell and all) we ate it with a soy/chilli/garlic dip. You then did a pick-and-mix of the veggies you wanted - very tasty. We were so impressed that we went back for seconds, except this time it all went wrong. I wasnt really sure what happened, but second time round, the crabs came rolled in a kind of Alpen mixture. Very weird and very wrong.

Talking of Ruby Murray, the best Indians we've found are the "banana leaf restaurants." You actually get a massive banana leaf instead of a plate and they just come round with all manner of pots and ladle it out. Mostly you eat with your fingers in these establishments - tricky first itme round. So tasty this eating-from-a-leaf lark, we have consumed our own body weight in dahl, chicken tikka and jalfrezi more than once. It's sad, but we still order the same as we would of a Friday night down Kemp Spice.

A bit of satay always goes down well and when this comes with nasi goreng (fried rice), a fried egg, a chicken wing and a few prawn crackers, you're onto a winner. However, trying not to look scared in the Filipino market, we bought a bit of satay which I think was made from chicken knuckles (it was ever so crunchy). We then went onto have a very good dinner of unidentifiable BBQ fish, prawns and squid. Non too keen on the squid, Andy put me right off by pointing out I was about to eat the "beak." Accompanied by salad, rice and green mango and lots of fresh chilli it was a great bargain at about 3 quid. Unbeknownst to me at the time, it seems they also threw in faw days worth of diarrhoea at no extra cost! Very good for a hangover or if you're really Hank Marvin, is a massive bowl of Laksa. Each region has it's own variation but it's basically a spicy coconut-based soup with noodles, beansprouts, slices of "fishcake" (weirdest fishcake I ever had - sort of squeeky) and a sprinkling of egg (of course), chicken and prawn and there you have it - three days worth of calories in one meal.

We may have mentioned it already, but Roti Canai is a favourite Malaysian breakfast. A very healthy (fried) unleavened bread with a tasty curry dip gets you fired up for the day ahead. Murtabak is a variation on this and involves a sort of meat-filled pancake with a curry dip.

Next up, puddings...What can I say? I'm not sure how they came up with it, but wandering around on a hot sticky day, you're bound to come across people enjoying ice cream sandwiches. Importantly, these are not the wafer-enveloped delights reminiscent of childhood of Sundays round your Nanna's. Neiewwww!!!! Ingeniously, someone has taken the sandwich element a step too literally. Your Malaysia (and Singaporean, for that matter) is actually a couple of slices of Mothers Pride wrapped around a lump of ice cream. To make matters worse, they dye the bread. I think it comes in pink and green...

The next weirdest pudding is a corker. O.K. you get a load of crushed ice in a bowl. You then add the best part of evaporated milk. You then add a generous helping of condensed milk and a few squirts of monkey blood (not they real item). Not to bad so far? Sorry, did I miss out the bit where the crushed ice is placed on a pile of kidney beans, sweetcorn, macaroni and cubes of jelly? I can hear you all rumaging around in your lofts for long-abandoned Mr. Frosty to try and replicate this one. I haven't tried this concoction which appears to be christened ABC, I already know it will taste crap and stupid. Nice lady ladling it out though.

Many places (Halal) don't serve booze. We obviously expected this, but I tell you, it's still a shock to the system. There is also a habit of replacing pork-products with beef. Beef bacon is a bit funny, as are chicken sausages, but when in Rome!! The porcine market is rather underground and you have to head to Chinese quarters for such "special meat" delicacies. In fact, China Town is also the place to seek out booze.

To end on a positive note, they enjoy a bit of spice and Malaysian curries are good - especially a rendang. To keep you on your toes, the word for chilli is phrik, but rather than ask for this directly, it's probably more ladylike to exclaim "Saya suka pedas lagi!" (I like it hot and spicy). Obviously there are the ubiquitous noodle affairs and rice a plenty. Sometimes these are garnished with flower petals and I'm not casting nasturtians here. The beer is Tiger (of course) and this almost excuses the fact that it is thought to be a good idea to drink cold soya bean milk in a can.

6 Months Away!

Jungle Jim & Dora The Explorer

The right place at the right time. It all started with an overheard conversation in Kuching - something which often happens on the travelling circuit. People trying to outdo each other with their stories of how cheaply they did something, how close to death their adventure brought them, blah blah blah (sounds like our blog). Anyway, this one bird was (fortunately) very loud and she was regaling what a marvellous place the Highlands Lodge was and how its owner was a pilot and he's flown them off to some place in the middle of the jungle. It went on and on, so much so that even Andy took notice. Waiting for the taxi to take us from Kuching to the airport, I recalled the conversation and happened upon a leaflet for The Highlands. It just happened to be in Miri - our next destination. So with moist palms, we endured another domestic flight to save us an 11 hour (++) journey in the hands of a maniac bus driver.

As we reached The Highlands, we were warmly welcomed and happy to realise there was a room free. Overlooking the river, the lodge was beautifully serene and only had a couple of other people staying there. At only 40 RM per night, we'd happened upon something good. David, the owner was also about and began telling all about the surrounding areas. As luck would have it, he was due to fly to Bario the following day and asked if we would like to join him on his Twin Otter aircraft to venture out to the jungle! Given Andy's aeroplane terror, he was less than keen, but I managed to persuade him this was too good an opportunity to miss.

Bario is a tiny village in the middle of the Kelabit Highlands and is renowned in Sarawak for its pineapples and its world-famous rice. The Kelabit peoples were "discovered" in the early 20th century and at this time were a tribe who fiercely defended their territory from imposters. Otherwise known as the "headhunters" they were distinguished from the other 30 or so tribes in Sarawak by their elongated earlobes and the women have tatoos which cover from ankle to thigh. Earlobe elongation begins in infanthood by hanging heavy brass earrings and the male warriors have an additional piercing in their upper ear which is adorned by leopard's fangs. Traditionally, the Kelabits live in "longhouses." Within these many families live communally with open-plan living and kitchen areas. It is quite normal to wander into each others' territory and feed whoever might be passing through the village. As a foreigner however, you must have an invitation to visit. Would be be lucky enough I wondered?

As we boarded the tiny 19-seater, our excitement escalated. We sat quite close to David and his co-pilot so that we could see what was going on. Andy felt reasurred that he could what they were doing and if they remained calm, all would be well. We were taken on the sight-seeing route and passed over Mulu National Park and the Pinnacles - a set of bizarrely jagged limestone points sticking up though the vegetation. We then flew scarily close to Batu Lawi - the twin mountain peaks opposite. An hour later, we landed safely, had a cup of tea and our first taste of Kelabit pineapple. It was here that we met Peter, a local guide and Jenny who is the "adopted" daughter of Peter's family who still reside in a longhouse. David then introduced us to Munney (or Douglas as he likes to be called) and said we could stay at his place "De Plateau." Before we knew it, we'd been invited to have dinner at the longhouse with Peter and his parents, Jenny and her friends from Miri. Considering we'd made no plans, this was all coming together nicely!

Lying some 1,000 metre above sea level and close to the Indonesian border, Bario is noticeably cooler and less humid than the lowlands of Miri. At last - some respite from the humidity and heat! If only to make the trekking easier, I was relieved. We made our way to De Plateau straight away we began to wreak havoc in the serene village of Bario. The can wouldn't start so we had to push to get it going. Within a few mintes, it broke down again, so Douglas had to take us individually on the back of his motorbike to his home. He designed his beautiful wooden home himself and it operates on a sort of "homestay" basis. "Don't worry Douglas," I reassured him, "You'll won't know we're here."

We spent that afternoon walking to the next village - a peaceful stroll with lots of pretty ferns to keep my macro lens busy, and a few frisky water buffalo to keep us on our toes. Upon our return to Douglas' house, we showered in cold but lovely water from the waterfall, before Jenny and the gang arrived to give us a lift to the longhouse. Bario Asal is the original (and oldest) longhouse in the region. We met Peter's parents, a wonderfully friendly and welcoming couple in their 90's! Peter's father still tends to his buffalo each morning and owns a pineapple farm. Here is Peter's mother after she put her earrings in when she realised they had company for dinner. And so began the feast preparations. The previous day, a wild boar had been caught and this was to form the basis of our dinner. The generator kicked in about 7pm but up until that point, the cooking had been going on in the dark. Meanwhile, we were shown around the tawa - an enclosed corridor which runs the length of the entire house. this forms the focus of the longhouse and is the plce where celebrations occur. We wandered along and admired all the old family photographs of the residents before coming out again at the end of the house. It felt very strange just walking though strangers living rooms but it wasn't long before we met another elderly gentleman who greeted us warmly and shook our hands. At dinner time, the boar was very tasty and along with the famous Bario rice (the best rice ever) and ferns, it made a great meal.

We had to be on our way however as it was an hours walk back to De Plateau (if we didn't get lost) and we had an early start in the morning. We'd been asked if we wanted to join the others for a trek in the jungle to a previously unvisited waterfall. We passed packs of dogs and wolves howling in the distance as the moonlight guided us safely home. It was late and so the generator had been turned off. By torchlight we prepared for bed. The outside loo was a bit dodgy and I had told Andy he must pull the red string in order to flush it. "I think I could have worked that one out," he replied and before long he was standing in the bathroom, being sprayed with great volumes of toilet water, with a piece of toilet in his hand. I was less than pleased as I stood there getting soaked trying to hold the offending pieces together while Mr. Know It All went off to find the mains tap. Unsucessful in his mission, I told he he would have to wake Douglas up. I just knew he wouldn't be able to find their bedroom, which I knew was located off the kitchen. He returned 10 mintues later - having failed his second mission. "Don't be angry with me..." he pleaded while I went off to finish the job. It took some time to rouse the snoring Douglas, but eventually we managed to wake Mrs Douglas who took over the task. She insisted we went to bed and leave her to it. We felt pretty awful, (especially as I pulled the mirror off the wall the next morning) but still managed a pretty good sleep despite the enormous dragonfly which repeatedly battered itself (eventually to death) against the window.

After snapping the mirror off the wall (yeah, you'll never know we were there), we set off on our expedition. First stop was to visit a Penan settlement in the jungle. The Penan tribe are semi-nomadic people whose very existance is currently under threat from logging. The export of tropical woods and the demand for palm oil is the driving force behind this devastation. Apart from several discreet pockets of jungle, the logging industry is relieving indigenous people and animals of their habitats. I read one statistic which stated that at the current level of deforrestation, 1,000 species per year is reaching extinction and that logging is ocurring at a rate of four times the sustainable rate (source unknown). Of the little I have learnt, it is apparent that traditionally the Penans are gentle people who rely on their rainforest not only for their everyday materials, but it also forms the foundation of their spiritual and cognitive world. Skilled hunters, they eat wild boar, fruit, vegetables and make much use of sago. Time is measured by the noises of the jungle, the position of the sun and the growth cycle of the sago palm. They listen to the forest for auspicious signs such as the sighting of a white-headed hawk flying from left to right before setting out on a long journey. The forboding call of a kingfisher might turn back an entire hunting group.

Hunting is still done with poisoned darts. The toxin (or tajem) is derived from the sap of a tree known as Antiaris Toxicaria and provides a potent cardiac glycoside called antiarin. Causing lethal arrhythmias, it is only effective if it enters the bloodstream. Darts without poison are sufficient to kill smaller animals, but once you reach monkey-size, you need something more powerful! Apparently, in the Amazon, they use a substance called curare which is a muscle relaxant and works by suffocation. Antiarin sounds preferable I think. Fishing is sometimes performed with the aid of a biodegradable toxin derived from some fruits, stems and roots. This inhibits respiration and ultimately causes death by suffocation. Is used occasionally and in localised areas, this poses no threat to the ecosystem. Conversely however, logging activity causes the rivers to become muddy and uninhabitable to aqauatic life, causing further detriment to the lives of the Penan.


After visiting the Penan settlement, we set off to the waterfall. Peter discovered it recently and reckons we were the first people to ever go there! This was to be our spot for lunch. No picnic for us - they had come prepared with chicken, boar and vegetables stuffed into bamboo and roasted over the fire. Ray would've been proud! After this, I foraged around the depths of my bag for some teabags and next thing I know, I was handed a bamboo-cup full of tea! Lovely.

We were pretty knackered after our days trekking, so we declined another invite to the longhouse's BBQ. We settled instead for a delicious home-cooked meal at De Plateau - local chicken, ferns, baby bamboo shoots (a bit like asparagus) and that famous rice. The people of Bario seem to consume pineapple at least four times a day! Whilst it is the sweetest we've ever tried, I'm not sure our stomachs could handle it!

So thanks to the chain of events which lead us to Bario on that day, we had a brilliant time and felt privileged to meet such lovely welcoming people. The others in the group were also great fun and we helped each other through some quite challenging parts of the jungle. Great thanks to Peter and his family for their kindness, Douglas and his wife for their hospitality, and Jenny for inviting us along in the first place. Also thanks to David for the smooth flight and sorting out our tickets. Also (excuse the spelling) to Hilda, Wem, Robert & Marte - the lovely Nederlandse mense - thank-you for teaching me the Dutch for barbed wire (prikelbras!!) Thanks to Douglas for the Tiger beer we had to secretly drink in the longhouse and to Alice for saying I looked like Linsay Lohan (pre eating-disorder, I presume?)