
Sunset over beautiful Borneo. Source: Getty Images
Proboscis monkey, Labuk Bay Proboscis Sanctuary Source: Getty Images
Lapping up the orang-utans at Sepilok reserve in Sabah and boating in the jungle. Source: Getty Images
THE brief was simple: a family holiday, somewhere unusual, somewhere memorable.
"It
has to be outside Australia," said my eldest princess, a teenage travel
snob. "And somewhere warm," announced the middle princess, who is 12.
"Where we can ski," added the littlest princess, 9.
That's why parents should never consult their offspring about anything
other than whether their teeth are clean.
Having discussed it with my true love we settled on North Borneo,
the fabled home of head-hunters (I don't mean the corporate kind) and
the current home of the orang-utan, the world's most intelligent
primate (after man, of course, although you don't see orang-utans
starting wars in the Middle East or watching The Biggest Loser.)
Borneo would be different, I thought. An experience. An adventure. We'd take them on a jungle safari and to a beach resort and to animal sanctuaries.
My true love began making the plans, which involved various jabs, prescriptions, malaria tablets, insect repellent, walking shoes and binoculars.
"Will I be able to update my Facebook page?" asked the middle princess.
"No."
"Are there any malls?"
"No."
"Will there be leeches?"
"No."
(NB. I was wrong on all three counts).
Land Below the Wind
Borneo,
the world's third biggest island, lies just above the equator and just
below the cyclone belt, which is why the name means, "Land Below the
Wind."
Malaysian Borneo, otherwise known as Sabah and Sarawak,
makes up the northern third of the island and is quite sparsely
populated compared with many Asian destinations. The traffic is light,
the roads are good (ish) and you can self-drive or take a package tour.
We chose the latter and flew into Kota Kinabalu, a modern city, rebuilt
after being devastated in World War II.
KK is a strange mix of
traditional markets full of handicrafts and exotic fruits, which exist
alongside iconic Western outlets such as Starbucks and McDonald's. The
princesses were particularly impressed when they discovered Converse
trainers for a third of the price they are at home.
When it
came to restaurants, we were spoilt for choice. Wandering through an
open-air restaurant emporium, we peered into tanks full of weird and
wonderful sea creatures, which could have been alien or turned inside
out. Chilli crab is a local speciality – a meal to savour because it
takes so long to eat – but the whole steamed fish in ginger and garlic
was equally impressive.
Our next introduction to all things
native was at the Mari Mari Cultural Village, 25 minutes' drive from
KK. Normally I'm not one for reenactments, but this three-hour tour was
infectious because the performers were obviously having so much fun
dressing up as head-hunters and giving us lessons in bamboo-pot
cooking, fire starting, rope making, stick dancing and hunting with a
blowpipe.
A fatwa on squat toilets
Among the traditional delicacies we sampled was the rice wine, which
tastes a little like watered-down Scotch. The problem with drinking
liquids, of course, is that this ultimately leads to bathroom stops. My
princesses had already declared a fatwa on squat toilets and I had
visions of spending nine days hunting out Western-style commodes.
Fear not – they adapted. By day four, princess No.1 announced, "I'm
getting really good at squatting. I can even aim." I did wonder what
was happening before this, but didn't go there.
After leaving
KK we travelled to the tip of Borneo where the South China Sea meets
the Sula Sea. That night we stayed in a traditional Rungan long house
with a thatched roof and bamboo slat floors set on poles above the
ground. We slept under mosquito nets and were woken at dawn by roosters
crowing and chickens scratching at the earth beneath us.
The
landscape slowly altered as we headed south. Oil palm plantations and
groves of rubber trees gave way to rice paddies and then virgin forest.
Something from Land of the Giants
Dominating
the skyline was Mt Kinabalu, a stunning granite massif rising to 4095m.
This is the highest peak in South-East Asia and the centrepiece of
Kinabalu Park, a World Heritage site and home to some of the most
unusual and beautiful plants in the world. Now I'm not a flower person
(my idea of gardening is to wield the weed killer like Dirty Harry),
but when I set eyes on the world's largest flower, Rafflesia, I was
seriously impressed. The huge red bloom, a metre across, has tentacles
and a gaping mouth like something from Land of the Giants.
Rafflesias are so rare that local farmers keep an eye on each bud,
watching them grow for 12 months. They bloom for less than 48 hours,
which is when the landowners cut a path through the jungle and charge
visitors 20 ringgit ($6) to view the event.
We had a long
drive to the east coast through vast oil palm plantations that seemed
to stretch for as far as the eye could see. Here was evidence of why
Borneo's primates need protecting. For the past 500 years their habitat
has been under threat – first from logging and now from cash crops such
as rubber, cocoa and oil palms.
Perhaps the most unusual of
Borneo's mammals is the proboscis monkey – particularly the male. When
God gave these guys a nose, he just kept giving. We managed to see
feeding time at the Labuk Bay Proboscis Sanctuary, which was like a
convention of Jimmy Durante look-alikes.
Next morning we
visited the Sepilok Orang-utan Rehabilitation Centre outside Sandakan.
Established in 1964, the centre takes care of up to 3000 baby
orang-utans orphaned by logging, land clearing and hunting. Most of the
primates are eventually released into the wild, but some never make the
transition.
Feeding time is twice a day. We chose the morning
and watched as six orang-utans and dozens of the smaller macaque
monkeys swung through the trees and shimmied down cables to where
handlers were waiting with bananas and milk.
The orang-utans
seemed to almost change colour as they emerged from the shadows,
turning from a dark brown to orange. With four fingers and an opposable
thumb, their movements, mannerisms and behaviour are incredibly similar
to our own – perhaps too much so. Obviously orang-utans don't limit
their swinging to the trees, but I did feel as though we'd stepped on
to the set of a jungle porn movie.
Leech Socks
Now
we were ready for a proper safari. Our base for the final three days
was Sukau Rainforest Lodge on the Kinabatangan River, situated in a
26,000ha wildlife sanctuary that has 10 species of primate, as well as
pygmy elephants and more than 200 birds. Designed along the same lines
as African safari lodges, Sukau has comfortable accommodation and
buffet-style meals.
The various activities revolve around early-morning and late afternoon
wildlife cruises on the river and its tributaries.
"What are these?" asked the middle princess.
"Leech socks."
"Why do I need leech socks?"
"We're going for a trek in the jungle."
She was not impressed. Even my true love looked askance.
By the time we set off, I was accompanying four women in full purdah
who were surrounded by a toxic cloud of insect repellent. Only one
leech made it through their defences.
Princess No.1 had a small
panic attack, but later complained that the leech bite was fading too
quickly and she wouldn't be able to show her "war wound" to her friends
back home.
In case you're wondering, we did get to see
orang-utans in the wild – three of them. Two of them were "cuddling" or
they could have been "wrestling".
I also discovered that "in the wild" does mean farther away.