|
|
| June 2009 | Page 1 Of 1 | |
|
Labaun Island Malaysian Borneo
Posted On 2009-06-21 , 12:50 AM
After stretching our biceps to pinging point after climbing Mt Kinabalu, applying lashings of tiger balm and walking down stairs backwards, we set off to Labuan Island on a fast ferry with the prime objective of wallowing in the warm ocean, soothing strained muscles, plus checking out the WW2 history.
At Kota Kinabalu we bought a 1st class ticket for NZ$12 on the Fast Ferry, a totally enclosed capsule which skimmed for two and a half hours east across the South China Sea. Labuan Island’s ferry terminal was pretty disgusting so slightly downcast we pressed on up town and were pleasantly surprised to find a clean tidy city with wide leafy streets, lots of new hotels and a relaxed population of 70,000 people.
Sighting the Tourist Office we booked at the ‘Horse Riding Centre’ 20kms down the coast – yeah, this sounded just like us right on a sandy beach, sunsets to die for, intimate, family owned and operated. The entrance truly portrait the name, no signage needed here, horse manure and a few anorexic horses, grazing on a few straws of hay, hens searching for grubs, rickety fences, plastic tables with mauve satin table cloths - yes you guessed - anchored down with tubs of plastic flowers right on the beach.
The accommodation was basic and comfortable, the staff relaxed friendly and all in the family. ‘Dollar’ was the head man and had a trail of side kicks trailing him at all times. A delightful tropical beach bar and dining room one step from the coconut fringed white sandy beach and rolling surf, where we whiled away many hours stretching and nurturing the muscles and photographing the stunning sun sets.
The food was great, fresh sea food, tropical fruits, chilled tiger beer, breakfasts were amazing but we always checked the pile of horse manure on the beach home to a solo hen’s egg was still intact, before ordering. The staff recalled having seen my husband on TV doing a bird programme in the Dart Valley in New Zealand a few months previously.
So instant fame and a round of celeb’s disgusting red cask wine - which my sister in law kept saying “pretend its medicine” - and medicine it was, the plastic pot plants didn’t even wilt. We then happily progressed to planting ‘commemorative’ coconut palms along the beach front with Dollar’s side kicks doing the digging.
We visited the peaceful and beautifully maintained by the British WW2 cemetery where lie 3920 Australians, New Zealanders, British and Indians that had been picked off by the Japanese up coconut palms as they came ashore on this beautiful island, we were very touched and shed a tear for the wasted lives of these youthful young men, in the name of what?
This delightful little island has great dignity and pride and it felt great to be part of it for a few days.
Comments are welcome
comment
|
Climbing Mount Kinabalu Borneo
Posted On 2009-06-12 , 3:21 AM
Motivated by an excellent article on Mt Kinabalu in a New Zealand wilderness magazine on the highest Mountain in SE Asia - it was a must do!
Borneo, images of orangutans, tropical fish, warm weather, loud colourful birds, monkeys, terraced gardens and the South China Sea - now the South China Sea I have an affinity for, no crocodiles, sting rays, jelly fish or 20ft sharks, only an abundance of sparkling, warm, salty ocean.
After referring to my trusty friend ‘Google’ I convinced two keen friends to join me on the 4095m climb to the summit of Mt Kinabalu, quickly upping our fitness levels, making bookings we decided to travel light, a day back pack, sturdy light weight hiking boots and a light tropical rain jacket with its thin mesh lining designed to keep your skin dry - best buy really.
We booked at a family operated Bed and breakfast with swimming pool on the coast for afters and off we went. We spent the first night at the Kinabalu Park Centre in the mountains and started our walk in the early morning with our local guide George, a cheerful man with an enormous knowledge of the flora and fauna. The fourth person in our group was a New Zealander, who celebrated his 60th birthday by a sharing bottle of tiger beer half way up the mountain.
The steep up hill track was well defined with huge steps reaching up to the sky, lined with a feast of exotic trees, insects, butterflies, flowers and many orchids. Small locals swung past us with huge bags of cement or gravel slung on their backs and some had beer and provisions for the restaurant at Laban Rata where we were to overnight.
I seemed to become a target for these fit friendly cargo carriers who spoke a smattering of English and the prospect of ever reaching the Summit, let alone Laban Rata Lodge, started to dim. On spotting my lily white locks and designer wrinkles and the down side of travelling with 2 bald bearded buddies who claimed they were young people disguised as oldies. I was constantly accosted - “How far you going” they would ask “To the summit” I’d retort with a forced smile. “How old are you” they would ask “63yrs young”  would reply smiling through gritted teeth, “very good luck” they would say.
After 3 hours of passing cement carriers, scrutinising me and asking the same questions I thought I’d drop a decade - it simply didn’t work, I was still being wished “VERY GOOD LUCK,” thank god they weren’t building an international airport, merely carrying cement and gravel for a heli pad at Laban Rata.
As we approached Laban Rata Lodge standing out above the jungle like a castle set against the bleak grey rock with flags from many nations waving in the breeze (not tropical) I was convinced I could not go on, in fact the lure of snuggling up under the blankets at altitude for a day was becoming pretty appealing, until when inspecting the fire escape on the 2nd floor, a large cheerful rat popped his whiskery head out of a large hole and grinned at me.
After stopping up every crack in the room with towels, the trip was now definitely all go, I was not staying in any room knowing my rat pal probably had all his offspring, all his siblings offspring and many hangers on guarding every exit and gap in this aging building. So at 2am we were up and at it, with a full moon there was little need for headlamps and the mountain side was solid rock with no undergrowth. Some areas were quite slippery but fortunately a thick rope was attached all the way up and acted as an anchor and life line in the fog.
We lost sight of our trusty guide who was assisting our struggling birthday friend. The altitude and cold temperatures certainly slowed us down, but made it I did and to my surprise and disgust there was a welcoming party of that rat’s cousins right on top of the mountain hanging out for the muesli bar crumbs and scraps of food dropped by the climbers.
It was time for a brief photo shot and a quick turn around as we descended the mountain and returned to Kota Kinabalu all in one day stopping at Laban Rata for a late breakfast. All in the day of the life of a little old lady with white locks, designer wrinkles and extremely aching muscles.
Comments are welcome
comment
|
| June 2009 | Page 1 Of 1 | | |
|
|
