Author: rr_admin

We arrange transport from Kota Kinabalu to Mount Kinabalu.

(Note: this entry contains no original photos because we accidentally deleted the photos from our camera. We offer grateful attribution to the entire online universe.)

Departing at 6:30 AM from Kota Kinabalu, we get a van ride to the park.

It’s 4,095 metres high.

(In reality, we never see the mountain this free of clouds.)

Unlike other climbing we’ve done, this trail is steep. CRAZY steep. We’re in pretty good health, but I’m soon puffing like a steam engine. We fight for every metre of ascent. The thinning air doesn’t help.

All supplies for the lodge up top is carried up by porter. They pass us as if we’re standing still.

There was an earthquake on Kinabalu recently – 2015 – that killed 18 people. You still see parts of the mountain face that have collapsed.

We persevere and make it to the Laban Rata lodge for a meal and a sleep.

We meet up again with Nico and Annabelle, a hybrid Italian-German couple who travelled up with us in the van. (Interestingly, they speak fluent English with each other. Not surprising, since Nico attended Cambridge and Annabelle, who works for IKEA, spent 8 months in Australia at one time.)

We awake at 2:00 AM, have a quick breakfast, and head upwards again in the dark. At a near-vertical incline again.

After an hour, I reach my limit. I can scarcely take twenty steps without stopping for a rest. I look up at the near-vertical headlamps twinkling above us, turn to Maria and say I don’t think I can make it. Thankfully, there’s no argument and we turn back to the lodge. Silver lining: we get to go back to a warm bed for the next few hours.

Everyone says that going down is harder than going up. We disagree. Sure, it’s tough on the knees, but at least there’s no energy-sapping scarcity of oxygen.

Reaching the bottom, we undergo  a minor odyssey trying to get to Sepilok, our next destination. In theory, it’s possible from the outskirts of the park to flag down a bus travelling from Kota Kinabalu to Sandakan and ask to be dropped off at the Sepilok junction.

We rendezvous with Nico  and Annabelle again. Together with Blake, a pleasant woman from Oklahoma currently teaching English in China, the following happens:

• We successfully flag down a Sandakan-bound bus. 😊
• But it’s full. ☹
• They pick us up anyway. 😊
• We have a four-hour bus ride to look forward to sitting on the stairs. (It’s a multilevel bus.) ☹
• But as soon as we get on, a torrential downpour begins. At least we’re dry. 😊
• About 15 minutes later, the bus breaks down. Totally. ☹
• Nico makes friends with a taxi driver who drives us into Ranau, where he’s sure he can use his contacts to fix us up with a hired van ride on to Sepilok. 😊
• Despite his attempts, we draw a blank. No drivers available. ☹
• Our taxi friend finally convinces someone to take us to Sepilok. 😊
• After we stow our luggage and cram ourselves into the van, he turns the key. Nothing. ☹
• We can’t even rent a van and drive ourselves. We head out to the main road, to the bus stop. As luck would have it, our original bus comes along and picks us up! 😊
• At around 10:00 PM, we’re dropped at the Sepilok junction. There is no other transport at this hour. We have a two-and-a-half kilometre walk in the dark to Sepilok, with all of our luggage. ☹
• This is not a great hardship after the punishment we’ve had on the mountain. Setting off – we all have lights – we soon arrive at Nico and Annabelle’s booked guesthouse.😊
• We look for our guesthouse, Blake looks for hers. We can’t find them. It’s now nearly 11:00 PM. ☹
• We ask a man outside his property about the whereabouts of our lodgings. He drives us in his car to our respective guesthouses and we all arrive at last. 😊

As a coda to this tale, while we drive along a dirt road, we spy a large black snake crossing the road in our headlights. The snake takes its time. I’m about to jump out and shoo it away when it moves on. I ask a guide the next day what it might have been. He thinks it was probably an equitorial spitting cobra, even though it was night (these cobras are diurnal, apparently) .

Here’s a link to an amusing encounter that an expat family has with one of these puppies.

Sight or Insight of the Day – Mount Kinabalu

Time passes. We grow up. We grow old.

I love regaling people with the story of how I trekked up Mount Kenya, the second-highest mountain in Africa, in 1987. Easy as pie. I was more than thirty years younger, of course.

It was hard to throw in the towel on this ascent, but what the hey, this is not an endurance test. As I mention in an earlier post, you gotta know when to fold ’em.

Flew from Kuala Lumpur to Kota Kinabalu, the capital of Sabah – one part of Malaysian Borneo (the other part is Sarawak).

Kota Kinabalu seems to have two major industries: fishing and shopping. There seem to be more enormous shopping malls than can be justified by the local population. At the market, both are combined – shopping for fish.

This ray for sale resembles an F-117 stealth aircraft (see below).

Because it’s Chinese New Year, every restaurant in town is brimming with families devouring mountains of fish and shellfish. We eat seafood as well while we’re here.

Our mission is to arrange travel to Mount Kinabalu and points East.

That done, we walk the waterfront in search of a place to enjoy a cold beer with a sea view.

The town is very modern.

We visit the Sabah Museum on the outskirts, a good introduction to all things Sabah. For example, at the northern tip of Borneo is where Magellan‘s fleet, on their voyage to circumnavigate the globe, was said to have stopped for 42 days to repair their ships.  Huh. Who knew?

(I can’t vouch for the truth of this. The museum also calls Magellan a Spaniard, when he was in fact Portuguese, of course.)

Sight or Insight of the Day – Kota Kinabalu

This is Oreo VII. He lives downstairs from our guesthouse.

Everywhere we go, we run into black and white cats who are mellow beyond words and love the attention that we lavish on them. We immediately dub them ‘Oreo’. This one is the seventh to wear that moniker.

…at least according to Wikipedia. From Ipoh, we arrive in Kuala Lumpur by train. (To get in the mood, we re-watch the heist movie ‘Entrapment‘ while in Tanah Rata.)

Still haven’t been to the Petronas Towers – tickets are difficult to get. Maybe when we return here from Borneo in a couple of weeks…

We take a monorail (!) from the station to our guest house. We stay in the Bukit Bintang area, well known for its nightlife and street food.

KL is different than when I was here thirty years ago.

Nice collection of stuff at the superb Islamic Arts Museum of Malaysia.

We visit the bird park. Rainbow lorikeets amuse us by bustin’ serious moves.

Palm cockatoo, from New Guinea. This one loves his rock. He can even fly around his cage carrying it.

Leaving for Kota Kinabalu in Borneo. Check out my new lid: I left my trusty Tilley hat in a KL taxi.

Air Asia is our airline of choice. Mainly because it’s cheap. KL is their home base.

And we didn’t even see a single kuala!

Sight or Insight of the Day – Kuala Lumpur

We discover medical tourism.

Maria develops pain in her shoulder. We end up going to the Prince Court Medical Center for treatment.

Turns out Malaysia is a huge medical tourism destination. Now we know why. Coming from Canada, with its Soviet-style provision of healthcare and its day-long waits in dingy emergency rooms, we’re blown away by the sleek professionalism, welcoming service, and state-of-the-art equipment available here at a reasonable price. (Compared to, say, private care in the United States.)

No need for signs that say ‘Please don’t assault our hospital staff’ either, or clientele that look like they belong in prison.

When we leave Tanah Rata, we take a morning bus to Ipoh. A very cool small city with a thriving arts scene and burgeoning interest from foreign visitors.

Tin mining was big business here from the 19th century on.

The building on the right, Ho Chin Pet Soo, was a club for Chinese mine owners. Chief amusements: opium, gambling, and hookers. Such are boom towns the world around.

The building on the left was the original home and factory of a local self-made herbal tea magnate.

We stay in the Abby Hotel, in an enormous room that has AC AND a fan, lots of space to spread out, and a great rooftop terrace from which to watch the sun go down.

The walls throughout are decorated with murals.

The Old Town is a warren of narrow alleys and colonial office buildings.

It’s like a mini-Georgetown.

Sight or Insight of the Day – Ipoh

We discover that trains are great in Malaysia. We decide to travel by rail to Kuala Lumpur.

Ipoh has a wonderfully colonial-looking station.

Buying tickets is a breeze. The train we book happens to be ‘silver’ service, as opposed to ‘gold’ service.

On day three of our stay in Tanah Rata, we tackle trail No. 9. It begins on the outskirts of town.

At the start, the trail is conveniently paved with bricks.  Eventually these give out and become a muddy track, with frequent downed trees to negotiate around.

We come across interesting botanical specimens.

There are no markings on the trail, so when it begins to deteriorate, the going gets rougher.

This plant has striking blue leaves.

Something that looks like a coffee bean.

And giant prehistoric-looking ferns. Here’s one in the fiddlehead stage.

Eventually, the trail peters out into an up-and-down titanic struggle against steep hillsides and thorny brush. 

We get so lost, we abandon what’s left of the trail and bail out at a vegetable farm.

We get lost along the road, too, despite having navigational doodads on the IPhone. Before we have to resort to cannibalism, we flag down a passing taxi (thank you, God!) and ride in luxury. We save a 13-kilometer walk, mostly uphill, back to Tanah Rata. You gotta know when to fold ’em.

Sight or Insight of the Day – Tanah Rata

We spy some pitcher plants.

These are carnivorous. Besides bugs, they also chow down on any small  vertebrates unfortunate enough to fall in. Why does this make us think of the Little Shop of Horrors?

From Georgetown, we take a bus to the Cameron Highlands.

We book a room at Father’s Guest House, a quiet, slightly Alpine-looking place off the main road in Tanah Rata.

It’s, um, high.

We walk the boardwalk in the Mossy Forest, a cloud forest north of Brinchang.

They don’t call it the Mossy Forest for nothing.

There is a lot of tea here. We visit a tea factory and plantation.

Strawberries are grown intensively. Half the area in the valley seems to be covered in plastic-roofed strawberry grow-ops.

Hiking is big, too.

Atop an observation tower in the Mossy Forest. You can see here my recent buzzcut, courtesy of an overzealous barber in Georgetown. My hair hasn’t been this short in decades.

Sight or Insight of the Day – Cameron Highlands

There are lots of Land Rovers in the Cameron Highlands. Hundreds.

Many well-aged and full of character.

This puts the germ of an idea into our heads: if we end up in South Africa again, we purchase a Land Rover from some farmer (city dwellers see them as status symbols rather than practical workhorses, so would probably want more $. Sort of like North American urbanites and pickup trucks.) Then we drive it to Kenya. And back.

Hmm…

Welcome to Georgetown part II.  When in Rome and all that – because Malaysia is a big producer of batik, we go shopping for some new duds to replace our de rigueur elephant print articles bought elsewhere in Asia.

We also visit a museum of batik painting.

Walking around, we bump into Georgetown’s interesting street art everywhere.

Some people burning baseball-bat-sized sticks of incense in a Chinese temple, possibly in preparation for Chinese New Year (February 16th – Year of The Dog, FYI).

We take another bus ride out to the Penang War Museum. They don’t allow durians on board. They’re banned from our guesthouse as well. Maria is determined to try one. I’ll pass.

The bus ride is an hour and forty minutes through different neighbourhoods. Lots of high-rise apartments, many with more interesting designs than we see at home in our own particleboard palaces.

The Penang War Museum itself is a private museum. The location was a fortified position built by the British before WWII to repel a Japanese attack from the sea. (They attack from the rear instead.) It spends the occupation as a Japanese base – the usual atrocities are committed: torture, beheadings, etc.

After the war, it is abandoned and reclaimed by the jungle, until its private owner uncovered the original structures and added some cheesy and fantastical additions.

The original stuff is pretty cool. Also, we get a great view of the bridge.

This isn’t the Penang Bridge we came over on – this is a second bridge, the Sultan Abdul Halim Muadzam Shah Bridge. Why Penang would need a second bridge at such Hellish expense is beyond me. My guess is they were smooth-talked into it by the Chinese to keep Malaysia in hock. Or the Sultan really wanted his name on a bridge.

It’s 24 kilometres long.

Sight or Insight of the Day – Georgetown Part II

Easy moneymaking idea for some local entrepreneur: import a container or two of Pathein umbrellas from Myanmar to Malaysia.

We bought these in Mandalay a few months ago as parasols and use them daily.

At least a dozen people a day here comment ‘Nice umbrellas!’. Using umbrellas against the sun is popular here as well, but they’re the usual el-cheapo Chinese-made kind.

 

After leaving Koh Phayam, we catch a night bus to Hat Yai and a van to Georgetown, on the island of Penang in Malaysia.

From the border, we travel impeccable four-lane highways and cross the 13.5 kilometre Penang Bridge to arrive here. Georgetown is like a combination of Miami Beach and Havana, Cuba.

We love it here. Its eclectic mix of ethnicities combined with lots of nifty colonial architecture is right up our alley. And it’s so clean, which panders to our bizarre Western idiosyncrasy of  preferring order over squalour.

As usual, we do a lot of walking.

Always something interesting going on.

We visit the Blue Mansion, former home of Cheong Fatt Tze, an early Penang tycoon.

It’s now a swanky hotel & restaurant.

We get an entertaining and informative guided tour by a voluble and very funny local lady.

Outside are some old rickshaws. These are real rickshaws from the old days, not the prettified modern tourist version. We imagine skinny coolies sweating between the traces while hauling people around town.

In search of the lost museum.

Some young mosque-goers.

We take a modern city bus to the bottom of Penang Hill and a funicular railway to the top.  We’re rewarded with this great panorama.

Good food abounds at the hundreds of lively street eateries at night.

Sight or Insight of the Day – Georgetown

As a mini-excursion, we take the ferry across the busy straits to Butterworth on the mainland and back.

While in Butterworth, we see this Singapore-registered vessel, a small oil tanker.

On the way in, we notice a few crew at work – and a fully-dressed mannequin on the top deck. On the way back, we notice  there are in fact about a dozen of these dispersed around the ship. And rolls of barbed wire.

It dawns on us that this is an anti-piracy tactic. The mannequins give the impression there are more crew members, to dissuade pirates. The barbed wire is to repel attacks. Piracy and the threat of violent death on the high seas – Somalia’s gift to the 21st century.

It’s two years since our bunny Blackie ‘joined the angels’, as Maria likes to say.

Her passing was instrumental to this journey of ours.

Planned years and years ago, our departure was always conditional on Blackie, an integral part of our household, ‘not being around anymore’, as we euphemistically phrased it.

The plan was, I would leave IBM in September 2016, Maria would leave her permanent government post a year later, then we would stay put as long as Blackie was alive.

As it turned out, Blackie developed a tumour in November 2015. Shortly after we returned from a trip to Brazil in February 2016, her quality of life had reached the point where we had to say goodbye.

We were devastated. Grief-stricken. Neither of us could go to work for a week. Without Blackie around…

‘How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!’ – Hamlet

…so we felt. That was it, we thought. Our hearts weren’t really into working any more. We  began to plan our escape in earnest from this point in time.

We originally found Blackie abandoned by her previous owners in a park near our house on a freezing cold January day. We’d been Jonesing for a pet and she just turned up at the right time. ‘Luckiest day in her life’, people would say later. Luckiest day in ours, we think.

• Funny Blackie story – ever since learning she was a year-old female, we never though of her as anything but ‘she’, a little princess. But for ten years, our closest friends and family regularly referred to her as ‘him’ and ‘he’. Maybe people connect rabbits with males, as in ‘Peter Rabbit’ and ‘Bugs Bunny’.

We took her everywhere with us. For instance, to the cottage every weekend from spring to fall. 

In her first year with us, her front left paw became paralyzed and she suffered from seizures. We drove her to the Vet Sciences lab of the University of Montreal for an MRI. (Have you ever tried to get an MRI for a rabbit? Available in only 2 places in eastern Canada – Guelph and Ste. Hyacinthe, both connected to university vet science faculties.)

This condition couldn’t be treated, but it never got worse. She got around quite well on three limbs.

Very educational, living with a free-range bunny. She loved chewing stuff – carpets, bedsheets, clothing – and we learned to take it in stride.

We learned a lot about rabbit psychology. We learned what a binky is.

God, we were ga-ga about that bunny. Not a day went by in ten long years that we didn’t get a kick out of having Blackie with us.

We still exchange anecdotes about Blackie. We shake our malaria medicine container and are instantly reminded of how Blackie would rush to us from anywhere in the house whenever she heard this sound – to her, it meant she was about to get a papaya pill, a treat for her because they were sweet and chewy.

If she were still alive, we’d still be in Ottawa. She’s with us still in memory.

This is our penultimate full day in Buffalo Bay <sniff>.

We’re sorry to leave.  We’ll miss the dramatic sunsets.

No more squawking hornbills first thing in the morning.

And

Lots of other birdlife, including some kind of soaring eagles and pretty yellow things. Apologies for the ornithological incertitude.

Other interesting wildlife. One morning, all the beach dogs start barking furiously. A few dozen metres offshore we see a family of seals.

The bay is popular with the sailboat set. There are usually 8 or 10 at anchor. (Richard from the UK refers to the owners as ‘yachtie snotties’, but to be honest, we haven’t rubbed elbows with any.)

Good food, too.

But of course, that’s available everywhere in Asia.

Sight or Insight of the Day – on the way to Buffalo Bay

So we have to make our way to Ranong on the mainland and take a night bus south. Not too much of a hardship in Thailand.

In great contrast to buses and bus stops in Myanmar. The Burmese are wonderful people, but we recall one bus stop in particular that resembles a  puddle-strewn garbage dump in which a pair of heavy trucks had just unloaded a few tons of restaurant waste. And yet many of the buses stop there. (Lunch? No thanks.)

In Thailand, the long-distance bus stops look like Vegas at night.

Inside is an aircraft-hangar sized variety of food, drink, and shopping.