Crying Christmas tears in Kuala Lumpur

By Callum Taylor

It had now been around a week since Marta and I had left the wild untamed jungles and villages of Indonesia. The urban sprawl of Singapore and Malacca had ensured we were now well and truly back into the city life. Kuala Lumpur was waiting for us along with Christmas which was just a couple of days away. We were interested to see how Christmas in a country like Malaysia was celebrated.

Kuala Lumpur

We arrived to KL late in the evening and made our way to our AirBnB in a suburban apartment. The Grab driver took ages to arrive as we watched him circle the bus station endlessly. He tried calling for help but our nonexistent knowledge of Malaysian meant we weren’t of any assistance. Grab and Uber drivers must hate tourists.

On the way it seemed as if KL was just endless clusters of high rise apartments. The city centre was nowhere in sight but 20+ floor buildings were in abundance. Eventually we made it to our place though and settled in to our home for the next few nights. The owner and his family were away for the holidays so we had the whole place to ourselves.

Welcome to KL. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Waking up the next day we decided to simply walk around the centre seeing the main city sights. A quick walk to the local supermarket for breakfast supplies saved us from the horror of having local fried rice or chicken for breakfast again. Not saying the food tastes bad, just that we were still recovering from the three tonnes of rice we consumed in Indonesia.

Market central. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

A taxi to the centre brought us to the buzzing marketplace on the border of the old and new part town. Tourists and locals strolled through the market streets trying to decide whether that poorly made Chinese imported gift was worth it or not, while the merchant assured them it was of the highest quality at a special white-person discount. A nicer indoor market was just around the corner though so we went for a stroll inside before stopping for lunch at a nice traditional food restaurant.

Afterwards we walked to the site of many old colonial buildings and one of the world’s biggest flagpoles. Here there was also one of the world’s oldest cricket clubs where only men are allowed entry. A visit to the only square in the city followed before we decided to head back to the apartment.

Nice clock. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

For dinner we had been invited out by a friend we had met earlier in Kota Kinabalu named Safwan. He had promised to show us around KL when we arrived and act as our guide. He picked us up in the evening and took us to a local restaurant where we enjoyed some Malaysian cuisine and talked about KL, Malaysia and our lives back home. A visit to one of his favourite shisha bars followed where we finished up the night.

Ol mate Safwan. Photo: Shisha bar employee

The next day Christmas had finally arrived. We spent the morning skyping my family and crying over the fact Santa clearly got lost trying to find us this year. For those who know Catalan Christmas traditions, you will also be able to appreciate Marta’s disappointment at not having a log shit out any presents or chocolate.

From what we had seen online, Christmas in Malaysia was essentially the biggest day of the year for shopping. Once we had finished speaking to people back home we decided to venture out and see what all the fuss was about. The internet wasn’t wrong.

It was absolute chaos in the streets and in the shopping malls. We had barely enough room to stand in some places. Why anyone would want to brave this and shop on Christmas I have no idea. What was impressive though were the festive displays. The malls had gone all out in trying to make the most extravagant Christmas display and it was interesting to go from mall to mall just to see them.

Christmas bling at the local mall. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola.

With no interest in shopping or suffocating in the stampede of people, we spent the rest of the day just walking around the city. We visited the famous Petronas Towers, got caught in pouring rain, and dried off with some cake at a small cafe. To finish off we headed to a local bar for pizza and beer.

The grey highlighting our Christmas emotions. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

With no presents and no family to celebrate with, Marta accurately summed up the day with this quote: “I feel like if Christmas was a family, then I am an orphan”. For all this lack of Christmas spirit though there was one shining light. Marta’s temporary resident visa application had been approved and we just needed to be in Australia for her to receive it. My parents had deposited some money as a Christmas gift into our account, so we used that to book us flights home for a week over new years. Vegemite was calling us.

Getting Christmas-ey at the local pub. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

With a few days left now before we would depart Malaysia, we decided to actually go and see one of the main attractions of KL. The Batu Caves were just a short train ride away, so we aimed to make a day trip out of it. Missing the train by five minutes and having to wait 45 for the next one didn’t help but soon we were on our way.

Two minutes into the train ride and Marta and I had basically been put on the brink of death from pneumonia. All public transport in Malaysia likes to put the air conditioning on Antarctic apocalypse mode, putting a seemingly 300°C difference between the inside and outside temperatures. We managed to find some jackets though and just survived the journey.

The Batu caves were essentially just a home for monkeys, Hindu statues, and visibly overweight and unfit tourists. The caves themselves were a steep climb up a number of stairs where many people came close to dying from huffing and puffing. Inside it was a little bit of a let down. Instead of simply preserving the original site, it appeared as if it was being developed and altered into a fake idea of a temple. The historical structure was still there, but now new pieces were being built in the cave which took away the shine a bit.

Sweaty but happy to not have been attacked by a furious macaque.

After walking back down the stairs and having a quick look around at the bottom we decided to head back. Luckily we didn’t have to wait long for this train and we were in KL within an hour. It was our last night in the AirBnB apartment so we now had to go and make sure we were packed and ready to move to a new hotel. So for the rest of the day we relaxed in the room.

Our next hotel was more centrally located and for the rest of our time we just basically waited until our flight back to Australia. The neighbourhood was a real mix of cultures, particularly Chinese meaning plenty of good food around. A nearby shopping mall with an oddly controversial children’s character statue was the real highlight of the area.

Not overly amused by the child-friendly bong. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Our friend Safwan took us out for another meal on our last night where we got to enjoy some delicious local chicken satay before saying goodbye. It was great to have someone show us around and take us to places we probably wouldn’t have seen.

Date night with Safwan. Photo: Satay bar waiter

Finally it was time to fly home though. We departed at night, arriving to Perth in the early morning. Home comforts were a welcome return, and being able to spend new years with friends and family was better than being stuck in a tiny village and, following on from Christmas, becoming ‘New Years Day orphans’. Soon enough however we would fly back to KL and be back on our way to Spain.

A pawsome day out in Malacca

By Callum Taylor

Stepping out of Malaysian immigration, we were now officially on the same piece of land as our final destination in Spain a mere 11,000km away. Just a few buses, the odd train, a taxi here and there and we would arrive in no time.

Peninsular Malaysia was evidently a different world compared to East Malaysia in Borneo. The endless forests and wild nature of Sabah and Sarawak hugely contrasted with the major highways and urban environment of the major sights of the peninsular. We were more likely to get stuck in a huge traffic jam here than come across a pack of rogue macaques.

Getting stuck in a traffic jam is exactly what happened to us. After changing to a new, much more luxurious coach as the bus from Singapore didn’t cross the border, it wasn’t long before the traffic was causing more headaches. Like in Singapore, the Christmas holidays had meant everybody was driving somewhere. What was meant to be a four hour drive in total from Singapore was now looking like it would take at least six.

Not quite the sight we would arrive to thanks to the traffic. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Malacca

We arrived in Malacca at around 9pm well after sunset. Just when it looked like our transport problems were over though, our taxi driver drove in endless circles around town looking for our hotel. You cannot fault the kindness of these people for trying their best to drop you off directly in front of your accommodation, but 99% of the time our Google Maps is more accurate than their knowledge of the city. We eventually made it after half-begging to driver to let us out once we knew we were close.

Where the taxi left us, but not our hotel. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Fortunately the owner of our place for the night was expecting us late so he was there to welcome us in. We dropped our bags and immediately went out for dinner. The local Jonker Street food market had shut down though and after a long, unsuccessful search for an open restaurant, we were forced into going to McDonalds.

Just as we were about to dig into our future obesity, a kamikaze grandma decided to blindly drive across four lanes of traffic and in front of an oncoming van. Luckily the van was able to slow down enough to ensure there wasn’t a serious accident, but it wasn’t enough to stop the collision altogether. We ran over to see if everyone was ok and fortunately it seemed as if nobody was hurt. Crazy that the first car accident we see comes at night when there is hardly any traffic compared to the chaos seen on the roads during the day.

After finishing the meal we headed back to our room. Along the way we came across a number of brightly coloured rickshaws complete with flashing lights and loud children’s music driving tourists around. Thanks to these we now had this song stuck in our head all night while trying to sleep.

Hello Kitty on the prowl at midnight. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

The next day we planned to get the afternoon bus to Kuala Lumpur, meaning we basically had half a day to get out and see Malacca. So after an incredibly delicious breakfast at the hostel we left our bags and started exploring the city.

The historical part of town was just down the road from where we stayed. Old red colonial buildings built by the Dutch were the main attraction here, along with the picturesque nearby river. The place was buzzing with tourists and it was a shame that we couldn’t have stayed a bit longer to sit down at a cafe and enjoy the place. A walk up to the top of St Paul’s Hill to see St Paul’s Church gave a good view of Malacca and also helped burn off the cheeseburgers from the previous night.

Malacca Old Town. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

We continued on walking through the city, occasionally stopping at a shopping mall to cool off from the heat and humidity. The city centre itself doesn’t have a lot of interesting sights, so we kept moving until we made it to the ‘floating’ Malacca Straits Mosque.

Getting our muslim on. Photo: Callum Taylor

Technically it’s not floating, but it is known for being built extending out over the water. Marta and I both needed to change into the provided mosque-appropriate clothing to go inside, which greatly pleased Marta as she could wear her first proper headscarf. After a quick walk around though we had seen everything and taken more than enough selfies so we returned the clothing and went to the nearby cafe for some lunch.

It was here that Marta and I discovered the magic of steamed buns. We had seen them around in Malaysia already but hadn’t gotten around to buying some. What a mistake we had been making. We ordered five different types and savoured every bite. Where had these things been all my life?

Steamed happiness. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Now that we had seen most of the city’s attractions, the most exciting point of our time in Malacca was upon us. A few days prior to arriving Marta had done some research on things to see and do and discovered that there was husky cafe here, creatively named the huskitory. Essentially it was just a place to sit and play with dozens of huskies. There’s no way Marta would be missing out on this.

We took a Grab from the mosque to the cafe where Marta nearly exploded from excitement. We had to wait for our session though so I was afraid she would break through the door in anticipation. When our time arrived she was straight in. I’m fairly confident that if someone had gotten in her way they would’ve been brutally wounded.

Not sure who was more excited, the dogs or Marta. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

The dogs finally came out to much excitement and I think Marta nearly peed herself. Food was the easiest way to get their attention as they didn’t seem to care for you if you were empty handed. Selfies were being taken from every angle, there’s no point visiting without one. Husky photos are also guaranteed to get major likes on Instagram. The real highlight was still to come though.

 

Once the dogs started to become noticeably tired they were led away back to privacy. When the staff members returned though the mood in the room became 100x more exhilarating. On each arm of each staff member were husky puppies. Everybody got to hold a puppy and I think it was at this moment that Marta found true happiness. Unfortunately, as they were puppies the interaction was only brief and reluctantly we gave our puppy back. It was now time to go.

Why have children when you can have a dog.

Saying goodbye to the huskies was tough for Marta but she remained strong and held back the tears. It was time for us now to find the bus to Kuala Lumpur. A quick taxi home to pick up our bags and then we were on our way to the bus station. It was likely that there would be awful traffic again as it was now just two days from Christmas. Hopefully we would arrive at a reasonable time.

Goodbye new friend. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Fortunately for us there were still plenty of buses available and we were able to be on our way within 30 minutes. Normally it would only be a 2-3 hour drive, but we were expecting something more like four. Thankfully we had a self check-in AirBnB so the arrival time wasn’t an issue. However long it took, I had my twisties, Marta had her nap, and Christmas in the big city was awaiting us.

Living the Life in the City of Cats

By Callum Taylor

Two days in Brunei had emptied our wallets so the sooner we returned to Malaysia the sooner our bank accounts could breathe again. The longest stretch of travel across northern Borneo was now upon us as our next destination was Kuching, 900km away by road.

Coming from Australia, 900km through mostly country roads sounds like a long but doable full days drive. Unfortunately its never that easy in this part of the world. From what we found online, this journey would require two buses and a minimum of 22 hours. Throw in another border crossing and we had a draining day ahead of us.

Our next leg of travel. Don’t believe Google Maps’ time estimate. Photo: Google Maps

The first bus we needed to take left from Bandar Seri Begawan bound for Miri in Malaysia. To our delight it left at 1pm, meaning we could wake up unreasonably late for once. It would take 4-5 hours in total which I think is the shortest bus of the trip since Bali. Don’t underestimate Marta’s ability to get a good nap in though.

After embracing the opportunity to sleep in we headed into the city to book ourselves a spot on the bus. The grand total of two other passengers meant this was probably unnecessary but my insistence on organisation meant we had no choice. Departure wasn’t for another hour or so though so we decided to kill time at a local cafe. After waiting for what felt like 726 days for them to bring out our bagels we only just made it back in time to leave.

Miri

We left on time for probably the first time of the entire trip and after a few hours we made it to the border back into Malaysia. Crossing was simple and soon enough we had arrived in Miri. Next order of business was meant to be finding an onward bus to Kuching, but first we were hungry and Google Maps said that there was a KFC nearby. My love of fast food overcame Marta’s disgust of fried chicken so soon enough we were essentially bathing in delicious Kentucky fried grease.

After recovering from multiple mid-meal heart attacks we headed back to the station to find a bus. The smaller companies seemed to be shutting down by now so there were less touts trying to butter us up with offers. A bit of research online said that at 8pm there was a VIP bus leaving which was at no extra cost, so of course we chose that option.

When the VIP bus finally showed up it was easy to see why this bus was designated as VIP. This was the fanciest bus I had ever seen. It was a huge double decker coach complete with big and wide leather reclining seats, personal TV screens with preloaded movies for every passenger and plenty of legroom. Like flying business class, or what I imagine it to be like.

Living like royalty.

The only problem with this leg of the journey was that it would take 18 hours to reach Kuching. Brunei to Miri might have been one of our shorter bus rides but this was easily the longest of the trip. At first it was comfortable but after a few hours the realisation sank in that Marta and I along with every other passenger would die of old age before reaching Kuching.

No amount of twisties made the ride easier and my attempt at getting some sleep wasn’t successful. Marta slept like a baby and fortunately for her had a great time. Miraculously, we survived the journey and we arrived in the early afternoon to the capital of Sarawak.

Kuching

Immediately it was apparent that Kuching was very different to Kota Kinabalu in Sabah. While Kota Kinabalu nearly felt like a western city in its centre with the big buildings and shopping malls, Kuching appeared to have a strong multicultural identity with influences from all over Asia and the west. A taxi brought us to our hostel and finally we had a bed again.

Now starving for lunch, Marta and I found a Filipino restaurant and thoroughly enjoyed our first meal since our Brunei bagel. A walk through town and along the waterfront followed, before we found a local pizza place for dinner which was incredibly good. We returned to our room afterwards in pouring rain ready to sleep after a long and uncomfortable 36 hours.

Bit of midnight monsoon grocery shopping. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

The next day was our only day to get out and properly explore Kuching. Like the other cities of Malaysian Borneo, Kuching seemed to be low on sights but big on having a nice atmosphere and vibe. We started off by having a better look around the waterfront of the river that divided the city.

On one side of the river was a big, architecturally interesting building that resembled a large umbrella shaped tent. On our side were many closed food and market stalls waiting for the evening when this area was meant to spring to life. Across the river was a newly constructed bridge and all of this together made for an impressive bit of city scenery, take that Elizabeth Quay. We crossed over the bridge and for the next couple of hours we simply walked through the suburbs of Kuching.

The big umbrella tent. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

For the first time in a while many of the locals looked at us with curiosity while the children burst out laughing after mustering the courage to say hello to us. A brief shower meant we had to take refuge undercover at one of the houses where the owner seemed quite pleased to have us sitting right on his doorstep. Eventually we were able to continue.

Bit of outer suburb scenery. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Lunch time came around and we decided to embrace the Chinese influence here and try one of their specialties. Originally we were looking for some steamed buns, but ended up buying a few baked pastries which were so good we went for seconds. Who knows what we actually ate but you don’t ask questions in Asia.

Heading back to our hostel we passed by a giant pink mosque and many market stalls. A little India mall followed and it was like stepping into a different culture every 100 metres. Kuching actually prides itself on its multiculturalism and it definitely shows.

Hot pink is the new black in Islam. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

We arrived back at the hostel and relaxed for a while until the evening when we would revisit the waterfront. Marta had to work on her photos and I had to catch up on my doing-absolutely-nothing time. Productivity is definitely something Marta is better at.

The sun was beginning to set so we walked back down to the river for the final time. The market stalls were opening up and the place was now buzzing with people. Kids chased bubbles in the square, families and couples were dining by the water, wannabe instafamous Chinese tourists took awful photos from every angle of themselves, it was a big change from the daytime. The newly built bridge was even a hit with the local population given it had been only open for a month.

Nothing is more exciting than a bubble. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

We sat down for dinner at one of the cafe stalls and enjoyed some local cuisine. It was a very nice place to be as the last rays of light disappeared and the lamps switched on. The umbrella-tent building across the river was now lit up along with the bridge and it left a great impression of Kuching. Unfortunately for us we had to depart very early the next morning so we called it a night and headed back to the hostel.

Not a bad light show. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

On the way back I had Marta pose with a giant cat sculpture which some locals thought was hilarious. Kuching is actually named after cats for some reason, so we thought it was appropriate to photograph the Catalan in cat city.

Marta in her element. Photo: Callum Taylor

We arrived home and packed our bags for the next day. We planned to cross another border as we needed to re-enter Indonesia for a few days. Pontianak was the destination and the bus would take a solid 8-10 hours to get there. Unfortunately for us it was highly unlikely there would be another VIP bus. Back to economy class.

At 5:30am we groggily got out of bed and made our way through the darkness to find breakfast and then a Grab to the bus station. The bus turned out to be alright, not as bad as the 500 year old wheeled boxes we had been on earlier. We weren’t so enthusiastic about going back to Indonesia here, but it would only be for a few days and then Singapore was ahead of us. We said goodbye to Kuching and Malaysian Borneo and off we went.

Coco shakes and hotcakes in Kota Kinabalu

By Callum Taylor

Since leaving home in Australia a bit over a month ago, Marta and I had generally tried to avoid urban destinations. The only real cities we had passed through were Surabaya and Makassar in Indonesia, and we would rather bathe in durian juice than visit them again. Our first week in Malaysia had seen us stay in a couple of small cities, but we had still tried to stick to the natural attractions. Kota Kinabalu (KK) would be the first city to break this trend.

We woke up with another long bus ride on our minds. The trip to KK was scheduled to take roughly 7 hours, so we aimed to make it for the 11am service. After stocking up on oreos, twisties, and other foods essential for a balanced diet, we headed off to the bus station.

Not just roast chicken, roast chicken *dance*. Photo: Callum Taylor

When we arrived we were unfortunately made to wait an extra hour as the 11am bus was full. The dining options at the station ranged from convenience store to food poisoning express, so we opted to avoid uncontrollably emptying our bowels on the bus and waited out the hour with a bottle of coke.

Eventually it was time to leave and we discovered that we had just squeezed on with the last two tickets. This meant though we were on the back seat right next to the onboard toilet. Hopefully nobody else on the bus ate at the station before leaving.

Kota Kinabalu

For the next 7 hours it rained heavily on and off outside so there wasn’t much in the way of scenery to see from the bus. Marta slept anyway, except for when she woke up and needed to be fed. We arrived just as the sun had gone down and were greeted unsurprisingly with endless offers for taxis and places to stay. After weaving our way through the crowd we ordered a Grab and 20 minutes later we were at our accommodation.

Strangely enough, our room for our stay in KK was located inside a seemingly half empty shopping mall. It was an AirBnB room where I think the owner, who we never met, was also the owner of one of the stores in the mall. After some initial problems checking in, we were shown to our room which turned out to be very nice considering the dirt cheap price we paid. A walk outside for dinner followed before we called it a night.

The neighbourhood. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

For most people who have heard of or been to Kota Kinabalu, perhaps the first thing that comes to mind is the nearby Kinabalu Park and Mt Kinabalu. We passed through this area on the way from Sandakan, but poor weather meant we couldn’t see much of it. The 2-3 day hike up the mountain is meant to be quite spectacular and we would have loved to have done it. To our shock though, due to its popularity you need to reserve a day to hike nearly six months in advance. It is also super expensive, so not on this trip and not in the foreseeable future for Marta and I.

With no real plans for our time in KK we started the next day by simply walking through the city. To be honest, in the centre there were not really any amazingly unique sights or attractions. What it did have though, was cleanliness and a western-ish kind of vibe. For the first time since leaving home it felt like a city that would not be so out of place in developed countries.

After about an hour of walking and 59 minutes of Marta saying she was hungry for breakfast, we finally found a place which served breakfast that wasn’t McDonalds. One thing you do realise in these countries is that if your hotel doesn’t serve breakfast, don’t expect to find smashed avocado or a $20 deconstructed piece of toast easily. We filled up on bread rolls and kept on walking.

Thank god there was some shade. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Around an hour later in what felt like 60°C and 200% humidity, we arrived at the KK city mosque. Surrounded by its own personal moat and glowing white and blue in colour, it was an impressive building. Tourists were taking selfies from every angle, although it was mainly a lot of Chinese girls forcing their boyfriends to realise their duty of taking instaworthy photos. Fortunately for me Marta gets angry when I’m within 10 metres of her frame, so I just let her do her own thing.

The Kota Kinabalu City Mosque. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

We continued walking and realised there was nothing of interest up ahead. By now I think third degree sunburn was kicking in as well so we backtracked until we found a small cafe to stop for lunch. Two serves of fried rice later and we were too full to move so we took a Grab back to our room.

For a few hours we enjoyed the comforts of air conditioning and wifi. Eventually though we realised aloe vera and sunscreen were necessary so we walked to a nearby high end shopping mall in search of a pharmacy. As we walked in there was a live Filipino bamboo dancing show which was actually very impressive. As we walked out we were a live oily lobster show as we tried to soothe our sunburn pain with aloe vera gel.

Nearly as good as shows at Mandurah Forum. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

The shopping mall was located half way from our room to the KK water village, so we decided to continue walking. This village was basically a collection of shabby wood and tin buildings resting upon stilts over water where hundreds of people live. Wooden walkways connect the houses which we used to walk through the community. I have no idea how they managed to make this way of life work, but well done to these people.

 

The sun was now setting so we decided to walk back to our room. Along the way we came across a coconut milkshake place which I think both of us can say was an iconic moment in our trip. Forget coffee, forget beer, forget banana nesquik, this was the number one drink of our lives. Just a simple coconut milkshake with small pieces of coconut jelly for only $3 made for one life-changing beverage.

With our skin on fire and our legs turned to jelly after walking 394km during the day we both collapsed straight onto bed. There were two new guests in the room next to ours who thought talking until 3am was a good idea. Marta slept through it but I couldn’t find a way to ignore it. Definitely not a peaceful sleep that’s for sure.

Waking up with the knowledge that breakfast wasn’t easy to find meant one thing, McDonalds was the way forward. Luckily for us it was only five minutes away by foot, so within 15 minutes we had a hotcake and mcmuffin feast sitting in front of us. I don’t know how we would survive this trip without fast food.

The plan for today was a visit to the Tunku Abdul Rahman National Park less than 30 minutes away by boat. The park consisted of multiple islands and was a huge tourist hit for KK. We planned to visit Sapi island, one of the bigger islands. The ferry terminal was about 2km away so we decided to walk and soon enough we were out on the water.

Typical tropical island paradise. Photo: Callum Taylor

Unfortunately, along the way to Sapi the water was flooded with rubbish. Malaysian seas were clearly not too different to those in Indonesia. When we arrived to the island it was easy to see where it all came from as well. The place was saturated with tourists. You were lucky to find a grain of sand on the beach to yourself. We decided to escape the masses of people by doing a lap of the island through the jungle.

Everyone here only came for the beach so beyond the sand we had it all to ourselves. A few giant monitor lizards popped out every now and then along with surprise spider webs. It was actually a nice walk ignoring the humidity.

Dying. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

A couple of hours on the crowded beach followed. The underwater scenery was pretty non-existent but the water was warm. Most people there didn’t seem to have any swimming ability so once we were beyond the shallows it was just us and a few people learning how to dive.

Eventually though there was only so much lifeless water to look at and so many people to deal with that we decided to head back to the city. We waited at the jetty to be picked up for nearly an hour with no news. It seemed as if our company had forgotten us. A Malaysian man named Safwan travelling with his mother seemed to have the same problem as us, so it can’t have been a language barrier issue. Fortunately Safwan was able to talk to a boat which had docked and we were allowed onboard to head back to KK.

Our new friend Safwan. Photo: Safwan

On the way back we got to know Safwan. He was a dentist from Kuala Lumpur and he spoke very good English. We exchanged numbers and he offered to meet up with us when we made it to Kuala Lumpur later in the trip.

Upon our arrival back to the mainland we headed straight back to our accommodation to lay down and possibly nap for 3 days. We probably wouldn’t have moved for the rest of the day but the thought of another coco shake dragged us out of bed. While we were at it, we thought we may as well find some dinner, and for the first time since leaving Australia we found good pizza.

Could not have been happier to have this for dinner. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

God bless the pizza franchise named Pezzo. The pizza turned out to be so filling that even one shared between Marta and I left us struggling to move. The walk home was only a few hundred metres but it felt like a marathon. Hopefully for us sleeping would burn off a few calories overnight.

For the next few days Marta found some journalistic work which I won’t go into now as she will release it in due time. What it meant though is that I slobbed around eating burgers and baked goods while Marta was out in the field doing her thing. Who was having a better time? I’ll let you judge.

A restaurant in KK warning me about all the bad food I was eating.

In the end our stay in KK extended from three nights to six. It became our longest stop in one place thus far, and although there really wasn’t much to see and do, just being in a city with first world facilities was a welcome respite from the past month. It turns out there is actually a once-weekly direct flight to KK from Perth, so this was also the first place we could have flown home directly from if we needed. Knowing this, maybe one day we will return. For now though, our immediate plans were to enter our third country, Brunei.

A date with the locals at Sandakan’s wildlife sanctuaries

By Callum Taylor

The alarm sounded at 6am and Marta and I groggily rolled out of bed. Instead of a morning cruise down the river again we had another cruise in Mr Choy’s van back to Sandakan. Why people choose to do anything this early I’ll never understand. We quickly filled up with the free breakfast at our lodge and then we were off.

At first it was only us two in the car but along the way we picked up a few locals. Unfortunately none of the imams we shared the car with to Sukau joined us, so there would be no sharing of fried banana. Marta would have been devastated but she was too busy sleeping the whole way back to care.

Back to Sandakan. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Sandakan

We arrived in the city and decided to go with the same backpackers accommodation we had used previously. It was too early to check in but there was a room available for the next two nights. In the meantime we could help ourselves to their free breakfast. Getting two free breakfasts in a day, we were getting better at this backpacking game.

Our plan for the next couple of days was to visit the wildlife sanctuaries that surrounded Sandakan. We had seen what the wild environment had to offer, now we wanted to get up close with the local animals. There were three sanctuaries, one for proboscis monkeys, one for sun bears, and one for orangutans. We planned to see all three of them.

Looking happy. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

After enjoying our free brunch we overheard some other guests asking about the bus timetables to the sanctuaries. We had just missed the bus to the orangutans, but the bus to the proboscis monkeys left within 20 minutes. Despite probably smelling awful as we had no clean clothes and hadn’t showered, we decided to go for it.

15 minutes of awkward powerwalking later we made it just in time. The bus however, wasn’t so much on time so the sweat cocktail we had both become was all for nothing. Eventually the bus showed up and the two of us along with one other tourist hopped onboard.

The name of the sanctuary was Labuk Bay and it was about an hour and a half away. From what we had read online the place had been set up in order to provide a space for the monkeys that was protected from habitat destruction. Given Borneo’s reputation for tearing down the natural environment to make palm plantations, this was quite an important place.

Upon our arrival we were told there were two main sites where daily feedings ensured there would be plenty of monkeys around. You might not agree with purposely feeding wild animals, but at least the place was a safe haven for them. The first feeding session was in an hours time so we headed straight to the viewing site.

There must have been twenty or so proboscis monkeys all sitting around the platform awaiting their food. Big males sat back with a watchful eye as their harem of females wandered about. Seeing them up close gave us the chance to see them and their noses in all their glory. If the noses don’t scare you enough, perhaps knowing the males have permanant erections might.

No shame. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Proboscis monkeys weren’t the only monkeys waiting around though. Small silver-leaf monkeys perched themselves on the handrails seemingly content with watching the world go by. They appeared so harmless and friendly, right up until they started passing their babies around.

Could be or could not be the baby’s mother. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Small, scrawny, and bright golden yellow in colour, the babies made no secret of the fact they wanted to stay close to their mothers. Repeatedly though rival childless monkeys would casually, but peacefully, make an attempt to temporarily steal them away. The mothers would only make a half-hearted try to stop them, meaning there were a lot of constantly screaming babies being stolen against their will. It looked traumatising but really it was just an efficient nanny system letting the mothers take a five minute break from their annoying kids.

Once feeding time began the proboscis monkeys really became active. Males claimed certain patches of food for them and their families. Any male which came too close was given a stern warning and politely told to **** off. One monkey even came screaming down the walkway we were on, just avoiding charging through me by centimetres. Once they all found food though they went back to their calm state just sitting around eating.

Watching all the monkeys eat made both Marta and I hungry. Unfortunately, the trip here was a little more expensive than we had calculated so our remaining $7 had to find a way to feed both of us. To our delight the entry door had a visa/mastercard sticker on it. To our disappointment though, the eftpos machine ‘didn’t work’.

We spent every cent we had on water and fried rice, which really is no different to what we had been doing for the past month. If we were hungry or thirsty before making it back to our backpackers well then we would just have to die.

After lunch we were invited to watch a short movie explaining the history of the sanctuary followed by the feeding at site 2. The other tourist who had joined us on the bus earlier however needed to head back to the city, so after five minutes of feeding we decided to head back.

We spent most of the afternoon relaxing and finally showering. That night we made the most of the waterfront and had dinner on the boardwalk instead of going to McDonalds. When we aren’t greasing up on fatty western fast food we dine like royalty, all in the same clothing though.

The waterfront. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

A great night’s sleep left us feeling in Marta’s word ‘fresh as a cucumber’ for the next day. Marta was particularly excited as it was orangutan day and she had never seen an orangutan. The sanctuary was called Sepilok and was only half an hour away by bus. By 9am we were on our way.

Like Labuk Bay, Sepilok offered two feeding times per day. Sightings however were not guaranteed here, the orangutans come and go as they please. We were therefore advised to get their early for the morning feeding and have the afternoon session as a back up in case no orangutans showed up.

When we arrived for the morning feeding session we were greeted by a sea of tourists and selfie sticks. We were far too late to stake out a good spot, I imagine Kmart on boxing day would be a fair comparison. This didn’t matter in the end though as no orangutans appeared. We would have to wait until the afternoon for a second chance.

How we felt when the millions of tourists would leave without seeing an orangutan. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Since the sanctuary was closed between feeding times we would have to wait outside for the few hours to pass. Fortunately, the sun bear sanctuary was located right across the parking lot. Marta had also never seen a sun bear so what a day she was having.

Not quite the smartest animal. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

The sun bears were worth a quick look around. They seemed like pretty unintelligent animals. In saying that though it was hard to tell who was more of an animal, the bears or the tourists. After a couple of loops around the tree top viewing platform, it was time to head back to the orangutans.

Before we could even get to the main orangutan viewing site we spotted some leaves rustling in the trees. Maybe only 10 metres away or so there was a big male. Marta whipped her camera out and threw all the children in her way to the ground. This might have been a sanctuary but this was still a wild orangutan. For around 10 minutes he hung around, watching us watching him until he swung his way towards the feeding platform.

Our newfound friend. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Compared to the morning session, this time there was less than half the amount of tourists eagerly hoping for a glimpse of an orangutan. This time they were all in luck. In addition to the one we had just seen, a mother and her child ventured down from the trees. For the next hour or so they enjoyed their meal while swinging through the surrounding trees. It was definitely worth sticking around for after the morning disappointment.

Monkeying around. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Eventually we had to leave to give the orangutans their privacy. One of the last buses back to town was about to leave and we made it just in time. Soon we were back at our backpackers for our last night in Sandakan.

Along with Sukau, the past few days had been an awesome wildlife experience. We had seen the nature that Borneo was famous for, both in the wild and up close. Now it was time to visit the cities. Our next destination was Kota Kinabalu, the capital of Sabah and probably the biggest city in our trip since Surabaya in Indonesia. In the meantime though, we celebrated once more with Mcflurries.

 

Crocodiles, monkeys, and million dollar nests in Sukau

By Callum Taylor

Sandakan might have been a very comfortable stop for the night, but both Marta and I were excited to get back into nature. We had been on transport non-stop nearly since the Togians. Reading online about what we could see in Sukau sounded like the place would literally be a breath of fresh air

Sukau might have been renowned for its abundance of wildlife, but the fact that near Sandakan there are a number of sanctuaries means that far fewer tourists venture here than you would expect. Therefore, finding useful information online for independent travel turned out to be quite difficult. Joining a tour wasn’t hard, but we prefer to arrange things ourselves to have a bit of freedom.

Sandakan central. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

After a short walk around the centre to see the city in the daylight, we (me) got furiously researching to plan our next few days. There was apparantly a daily public minibus to Sukau which we had seen earlier, but it didn’t leave until the afternoon. Fortunately, we found a man by the name of Mr Choy online who does the trip every day in his van and offers to take passengers for the same price as the public minibus. Calling a man named Mr Choy in a foreign country to transport you to a secluded jungle location with their white van is always a good idea. Luckily we did call him right away though as he was just about to leave. 15 minutes later after rushing to pack and check out, Choy had us on the road.

Choy turned out to be a super friendly guy who spoke very good English. We shared the car with about 10 other very devout-looking muslim men. Say what you may about people with strong religious beliefs, but they all became our friends for life when they shared their fried bananas for lunch with us.

Marta amused by the fried banana. Photo: Callum Taylor

Sukau

When we arrived in Sukau it was quite surprising how small the town was. Located right on a riverbank, no more than 200 or so people must have lived there. As we had no accommodation booked Choy dropped us off at one of the local B&Bs which looked fine to us. It was pretty basic, but for life in the jungle this was all we needed.

Upon checking in we were shown a list of activities on offer in the area and booked ourselves in for an evening river cruise. It was now early in the afternoon so this gave us a couple of hours to explore the area. After about 30 minutes though we had walked from one end of Sukau to the other. Not even one McDonalds or department store, why were we here?

Where are the pubs and clubs? Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

By late afternoon we were itching to get on the water. We were the only tourists around it seemed so we had the boat to ourselves. Cashed up middle aged white people pay thousands to stay with others at the fancy lodges further down the river, we paid spare change in comparison for a private hotel and cruise.

At first it seemed like none of the animals wanted to make an appearance. We cruised along the riverbank without any birds or monkeys in sight. Every rustle in the trees capturing our attention before we realised it was just the wind.

After around half an hour Marta was the first to spot something. Up in the highest trees she found a big family of proboscis monkeys. These are the terrifyingly ugly long nosed monkeys which are famous from Borneo. There must have been at least ten of them all swinging through the jungle. Once they noticed us however they fled. The 30 seconds we had watching them though was a much better monkey experience than having a rabid macaque try to steal everything you own in Balinese monkey jungles.

A very ugly proboscis monkey. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Finding these proboscis monkeys seemed to set off a chain reaction of wildlife sightings. Hornbill birds flew overhead with their huge colourful beaks. Other varieties of monkeys sat in trees overlooking the water. A python was even spotted curled up on a cluster of branches. Macaques were also abundant here, affectionately known to locals as the ‘jungle mafia’. It was awesome to see all these animals in their own environment.

Boofhead. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

The sun had set now as we headed back to shore. Our B&B also offered night and morning cruises, so we decided to go with each of those for the following day. One cruise definitely wasn’t enough.

By now we were starving and despite being able to eat at our accommodation, we decided to try out the only restaurant in town. Luckily for us, it was all the way at the other end of town. Walking along a narrow road in pitch black darkness with a river full of crocodiles only so many metres away is quite an adrenaline rush.

The restaurant turned out to be surprisingly good. It overhung the river and for being such a quiet village there were quite a few people there. Huge mountains of fried rice were served up to us which we both struggled to finish. Marta made friends with some local cats who I’m sure wanted her for her and not for her rice. After recovering from the meal we stumbled out and half-walked half-rolled back to our room to get some sleep.

Imagine a million crocodiles inside this river and walking next to it at night. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

The next day I unfortunately woke up as the first one to get sick during the trip. Marta will say I was fine but in reality I was on the verge of death with a runny nose and sore throat. With nobody to bring me back to health I started digging my grave. Fortunately it was time for our morning cruise so dying would have to wait.

The morning was less animal-rich than the previous evening, but the scenery was just as spectacular. The jungle was shrouded in mist which was only broken when rays of sunshine pierced gaps through the branches. Not many better ways than this to start your day.

Me on my deathbed with a creepily spectacular view. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

After returning to our room we had the rest of the day to again relax and recover in hope I would survive another 24 hours. We went for another walk around town, this time nearly being run down by stampeding macaques. Lunch at the local restaurant left us again feeling like balloons as we waited until nightfall for our final cruise.

Centre of town. Photo: Callum Taylor

Seemingly just after all our sweat had evaporated from our clothes our cruise guide picked us up and off we went. Sailing down the river in darkness knowing crocodiles surround your small boat is quite a surreal feeling. Only a couple of torches guided us between the logs which dotted the water.

Within minutes we arrived at a unique location. Dozens and dozens of small birds were flying in all directions. Kind of like how people drive in Indonesia. Behind the cloud of birds though was a very expensive sought after local delicacy, Birds nest. We had seen birds nest flavoured drinks around before, but according to our guide they were imitation flavours. This was the real deal. What we could see in front of us would cost thousands of dollars. I have no idea why it was so special, whether it was the species of bird or the location or the material of the nest. It made no sense but ok.

For the next hour we spotted the odd kingfisher hiding amongst the low lying branches. How our guide found them with his torch I have no idea. It was a shame that we were unable to take any photos because of the darkness. A crocodile head made an appearance just as we returned to shore so getting out of the boat was a bit of Russian roulette.

Since we were still bursting at our seams from lunch we opted to call it a night and went to bed. This was our last night in Sukau, we would return to Sandakan the next day. Fortunately Mr Choy runs the same service in the reverse direction, leaving early in the morning. We set our alarms for some awful time before 10am and drifted off to sleep.

Hello Malaysia

By Callum Taylor

When people think of Malaysia I’m sure that, for many, Kuala Lumpur (KL) is the one and only thing that springs to mind. A big city famous for shopping, its blend of cultures, and a pair of twin towers which highlight the city skyline. When people think of Borneo I’m sure thick tropical jungles echoing with the sounds of orangutans are the normal image they come up with. Little do they know that Malaysia and Borneo are partially one and the same.

Borneo is divided into three countries. Indonesia in the south, Malaysia and Brunei in the north. The Malaysian section is divided into two parts, Sabah in the east and Sarawak in the west. Culturally they are quite distinct from peninsular Malaysia where KL is located, with even Malaysia citizens from outside Borneo needing a passport to visit.

Borneo was originally not part of our plans. Choosing to visit Sulawesi though made it a necessity as backtracking to Java was the only other option and this wasn’t possible with our visa expiring. The new route meant we would cross the entirety of Malaysian Borneo from east to west.

Tawau

One and a half hours after departing Nunukan we arrived at the south eastern city of Tawau. Fisherman boats that looked like they had survived a nuclear bomb dotted the port, along with three billion seagulls. The standard Asian scramble to get off the boat began so 4 days later we finally alighted when they discovered that not everybody can get off at the same time.

Standard Tawau fishing boat. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

A long queue had formed for immigration procedures where the Malaysian citizens were allowed through first. Once we finally reached the front we surprisingly had our bags weighed and had to pay an excess baggage fee. This would have made sense if it was for the boat but this was to enter Malaysia, we actually had to pay money for bringing extra weight into the country. Like a fat tax for your suitcase.

After being stamped in we had officially entered country number two of the trip. Walking out of the port it was immediately shocking how much more developed this place was compared to Indonesia. Tawau is by no means a modern first world city, in fact it is probably the least developed of Sabah’s cities, but it was a big step up on the cleanliness and modernity scale.

Streets of Tawau. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

Our hotel was just a short walk away along the waterfront. We only planned to stay for one night as from what we had found online, Tawau wasn’t a tourism hotspot. After checking in though we could’ve easily spent more time there just in our hotel room. Unlimited super fast wifi, English speaking staff, free breakfast and a fully functioning western bathroom. We definitely weren’t in Indonesia anymore.

For the rest of the afternoon we aimed to establish ourselves in Malaysia. This meant buying SIM cards, getting used to the new currency, working out how to say hello and thank you, and making a plan for where we would go and what we would do. Fortunately Malaysian is very similar to Indonesian, so at least we could recognise the names of food on menus. Unfortunately we still made fools of ourselves at the waterfront seafood stalls pointing at food and requiring urgent medical attention at the slightest hint of spice.

Not sure if I’m so red from sunburn or from the spice. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

We decided that the following day we would depart Tawau by bus to Sandakan, the second largest city in Sabah. It didn’t seem as if many tourists came here though, so researching online which of the many bus stations we needed to go to wasn’t so easy. The first attempt at finding the right station to buy tickets didn’t work, all we found were touts yelling at us for other bus routes. Luckily the second attempt was more successful, we would leave at 11am for the 8 hour journey.

The sun was setting and we were both hungry for dinner. While both of us wanted to try the local food, the fact that we were in a city with more than just chicken/fish and rice meant we couldn’t resist the temptation of western food. Marta wanted pizza, I wanted burgers, we eventually found a compromise. A KFC was just a few hundred metres away. How is this a compromise between pizzas and burgers you might be thinking? Well, say hello to the Chizza.

The holy grail of fast food. Photo: Callum Taylor

If you haven’t heard of the Chizza before it’s basically a piece of fried chicken acting as the pizza base covered in cheese, tomato paste and pineapple. Sounds delicious in theory and looks great in pictures. In reality though, like all fast food, it doesn’t deliver on its promise. It was tiny and didn’t really hold together well at all. It wasn’t a total disappointment, but it still hurts to recall how severely our chicken-pizza fusion dreams were crushed.

A wonderful night’s sleep followed before we were woken up early for breakfast. After the KFC we didn’t mind going back to fish and rice. At around 10 we headed off to the bus station and were relieved to see a decent bus instead of the death boxes we were accustomed to in Indonesia. We departed on time for once and after weaving through the congested streets of Tawau we were on our way.

Standard roadside view in Sabah. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

It wasn’t hard to notice a difference in driving between Malaysia and Indonesia. There were no constant car horns ringing in the air and people seemed to have more of a regard for the lanes and give way signs. If I had to drive for some reason while we were here at least I might survive more than 10 seconds on the road.

Sandakan

Eight hours later and we pulled into the Sandakan intercity bus station. Unfortunately our Grab (Car sharing app similar to Uber) account wouldn’t log-in so we had to negotiate a fare to the city centre with a taxi. Lucky they saw we were trying to load Grab and we used that to our advantage. Soon we were on our way and after stopping to pick up other passengers along the way, we arrived at our backpackers accommodation.

We were located right in the city centre near a very modern looking shopping mall. The streets were still lined by slightly run down buildings but for the first time on the trip it didn’t feel like we were in a third-world country. There was even a thriving waterfront boardwalk full of restaurants. Why we ate at McDonalds for dinner then I don’t know, but the first McFlurry in weeks went down very well.

View of Sandakan waterfront from our hotel. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola

We were again only booked in to stay for one night, although we were scheduled to return later on. Our plan was to visit Sukau the next day, a small village a couple of hours away by car which was known for being an excellent wildlife viewing location. Endless monkeys, tropical birds, and crocodiles were found there, exactly what you imagine from Borneo. Until then though we enjoyed the comforts of city facilities and the feeling of fast food regret.

Cleaning fairy is permanently on strike on our trip. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola