Dajia Hao,
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After 2 weeks in Penang, Lotus Bud and I decided we needed a holiday.The local Chinese doctor strongly advised that I convalesce somewhere far away from Durian. Six nights in Borneo should do the trick.
Durian stall at Balik Pulau
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I needed a small backpack, so, while driving around the Kampongs of Balik Pulau looking for ‘Red Prawn’ Durian ( I would inject that stuff ), we found a cheap bag shop. I bought a really cheap pack – I thought, if it lasts the 6 nights in Borneo it will owe me nothing.
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Next day we left our apartment, said goodbye to our neighbour, ‘ Bama ‘ ( I call her the President ), picked up my pack and it literally fell to pieces.
We had a harrowing drive to the airport racing with the clock, found a park and then ran to the Check-in Counter like contestants on the Amazing Race.
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“Sorry Sir, your flight departure has been delayed by one hour”.While Veronica sat sipping her Cafe Latte at Coffee Bean, I sewed my bag back together.
We passed through Airport security like the Invisible Man and his imaginary wife. The dude on the x-ray machine was so engrossed in telling a pretty wanita about the great nasi lemak he had that morning that he didn’t notice us, our bags or the 2 litres of nitro-glycerine we smuggled through in our water bottles.
Welcome to Malaysia.
This is a very laconic country.
When we arrived here from Australia over a month ago, I found the padlock was missing from my suitcase when I took it off the carousel.
Not wanting to be the next Shappelle Corby, I immediately notified the nearest Security Guard. He just waved me on. I persisted.
“My padlock is gone, anything could have been planted in my case.”
He looked at me like I was beginning to cause him grief. He eventually motioned toward the Lost Property counter and suggested I go and report the theft of my padlock.
“Sorry Sir, your flight departure has been delayed by one hour”.While Veronica sat sipping her Cafe Latte at Coffee Bean, I sewed my bag back together.
We passed through Airport security like the Invisible Man and his imaginary wife. The dude on the x-ray machine was so engrossed in telling a pretty wanita about the great nasi lemak he had that morning that he didn’t notice us, our bags or the 2 litres of nitro-glycerine we smuggled through in our water bottles.
Welcome to Malaysia.
This is a very laconic country.
When we arrived here from Australia over a month ago, I found the padlock was missing from my suitcase when I took it off the carousel.
Not wanting to be the next Shappelle Corby, I immediately notified the nearest Security Guard. He just waved me on. I persisted.
“My padlock is gone, anything could have been planted in my case.”
He looked at me like I was beginning to cause him grief. He eventually motioned toward the Lost Property counter and suggested I go and report the theft of my padlock.
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So we are back in Borneo after 7 years.
What a wonderful city Kuching is. The Sarawak River snakes through the city with the Old Chinatown on one bank and the majestic Mosque and Palace of the White Rajahs on the other. An evening spent down at the waterfront sipping rice wine and eating fine Malay food is almost perfect.We’re staying at an Iban operated hotel. 70 years ago the Iban were still Headhunters but nowadays they prefer to take our money and let us go.
What a wonderful city Kuching is. The Sarawak River snakes through the city with the Old Chinatown on one bank and the majestic Mosque and Palace of the White Rajahs on the other. An evening spent down at the waterfront sipping rice wine and eating fine Malay food is almost perfect.We’re staying at an Iban operated hotel. 70 years ago the Iban were still Headhunters but nowadays they prefer to take our money and let us go.
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Manager of the Iban Hotel
asking a guest to leave.
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We shared breakfast with a group of loud Americans. One guy was telling everyone about a recent trip to Kazakstan where he saw a family drive by with a cow in the car. He said he didn’t know how they got it in there with all the kids but it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.No trip to Borneo is complete without staying at a Longhouse.
We chose a Bidayuh village called Annah Rais, up in the mountains near the Kalamantan ( Indonesian ) border.
On the drive there from Kuching we passed a shop with two signs out the front. One said ‘Pet Rabbit For Sale’ and the other said ‘Fresh Rabbit Meat’.
We chose a Bidayuh village called Annah Rais, up in the mountains near the Kalamantan ( Indonesian ) border.
On the drive there from Kuching we passed a shop with two signs out the front. One said ‘Pet Rabbit For Sale’ and the other said ‘Fresh Rabbit Meat’.
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The Longhouse has almost 200 doors. An entire community effectively living under one continuous stretch of roofing with a bamboo verandah connecting the houses.
After settling in, we opted for a 3 hour jungle walk from the Longhouse to a beautiful three tier waterfall. The walk was hot and sweaty but very spectacular. At one point we walked within metres of a slash and burn area. The sound of the exploding bamboo and raging flames was quite frightening. We couldn’t help but get a small sense of how
overwhelming the horror of Victoria’s bushfires must have been for many.At the waterfall we ate rice and chicken cooked in bamboo before swimming in a rock pool at the base of the falls.
overwhelming the horror of Victoria’s bushfires must have been for many.At the waterfall we ate rice and chicken cooked in bamboo before swimming in a rock pool at the base of the falls.
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Our fellow travellers were 4 Singaporeans and a Japanese girl we named YoYo because she couldn’t stand still. Our night at the Longhouse included a cultural show that made tai chi look like a Bullfight.
Our MC, fat Mr. Edward, introduced each performance with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a beer in his hand. Each dance was performed by his Grandmother dressed in feathers and fighting to stay alive. Twice she fell asleep in the middle of a ‘dance’ and fat Mr. Edward had to come out and give her a prod.
The ‘guests’ were required to join in the last dance. We waved our hands from side to side as we took turns in holding Granny up. We swayed to the rhythm as the Bidayuh warriors sat around in their AC/DC and Slipknot T-shirts, texting their mates on their iphones.
Our MC, fat Mr. Edward, introduced each performance with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a beer in his hand. Each dance was performed by his Grandmother dressed in feathers and fighting to stay alive. Twice she fell asleep in the middle of a ‘dance’ and fat Mr. Edward had to come out and give her a prod.
The ‘guests’ were required to join in the last dance. We waved our hands from side to side as we took turns in holding Granny up. We swayed to the rhythm as the Bidayuh warriors sat around in their AC/DC and Slipknot T-shirts, texting their mates on their iphones.
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Back in Kuching, we caught a local bus out to Semingoh Orangutan Sanctuary. It’s worth coming to Borneo if for no other reason than to spend time with these awesome creatures.
Spent a night at Bako in a wooden hut.
Close to Kuching and accessible only by boat, this National Park is arguably the best wildlife experience short of an African safari.
At Bako, the ubiquitous and strangely proportioned Proboscus Monkeys look uncannily like me – according to several of my Malaysian ex-friends.
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We arrived back in Penang at midnight last night. Our holiday is over and, perhaps mercifully, so too the Durian season.
Malaysia is a culinary heaven.
This year we have a great kitchen in our apartment and Veronica has cooked up some smart local curries. The best part has been exploring our favourite markets for fresh vegetables and buying different spices in Little India.
On the other hand, China ( if you’re not on an organised tour ), can be a culinary nightmare. It can be so bad that even McDonalds seems like a good option.
We got chatting to a Chinese guy lately who told us he loved visiting Australia but he couldn’t find anything to eat. He added – “Thank God for McDonalds”.
This year we have a great kitchen in our apartment and Veronica has cooked up some smart local curries. The best part has been exploring our favourite markets for fresh vegetables and buying different spices in Little India.
On the other hand, China ( if you’re not on an organised tour ), can be a culinary nightmare. It can be so bad that even McDonalds seems like a good option.
We got chatting to a Chinese guy lately who told us he loved visiting Australia but he couldn’t find anything to eat. He added – “Thank God for McDonalds”.
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