Sixty One Degrees
An occassional journal of an Asia-overland adventure
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Cameron Highlands, Malaysia
After a couple of days relaxing on the beach it was time to return to the jungle. Or in this case, the tea plantations of the Cameron Highlands.
After a grueling bus trip up the mountains, with 639 corners, I arrived late at night at the small town of Tanah Rata. I was determined to see the sunrise over the hills so the next morning I got up early and took a taxi past the next town of Brinching and partway up the nearby mountain to a great viewpoint, just above the tea plantations with the sun rising in the distance.
I spent some time here then started walking the 4km back to the main road. I had thought to catch a bus from here to Brinching, another 4km or so, then another for the final 5km to Tanah Rata. Alas, no buses. I ended up walking all the way to Brinching.
From here the road continues to Tanah Rata but there are also numerous jungle trails. Much more interesting I thought. I loaded myself up with suitable supplies and set off to find the first trail.
It was hidden behind an elaborate Chinese temple and turned out to be quite steep and overgrown. Undaunted I forged on. The trail was indistinct in parts and false trails would branch off here and there but I was encouraged by the occasional sign assuring me that I was still on trail 2.
The day wore on and I continued to struggle through the dense foliage. I was looking for trail 3, which would take me to trail 5 then back home. I tried a few promising side trails but they all soon disappeared. I realised that the last trail 2 sign had been some time ago and my thoughts began to wander to the tale of the two people who were lost out here for two days. I was unconcerned though as I was well supplied with six slices of dried mango and a packet of jelly fruits. Perhaps I could use the jelly fruits to capture small animals.
I eventually came out on a vegetable farm that I was sure was not on the trail. A couple of Bangladeshis came across and after a quick bit of banter about the cricket they pointed me back the way I had come.
I continued my search for trail 3, taking every possible side trail. I eventually found it but couldn't see how it could possibly match the map. From here however I had huge signs directing me along the final stretch back to civilisation. It was now late afternoon and I still had to clean my backpack from an exploded shampoo bottle.
Ipoh, Malaysia
On the way to the Cameron Highlands I had a few hours to kill in the non-descript town of Ipoh. Rather than sit at the bus station I decided to hire a taxi to go to Kelly's Castle, a large manor house built by an English tin merchant at the turn of the century. Unfortunately he had died on a trip back to Europe and the house was never completed. It was soon forgotten and was gradually reclaimed by the jungle.
In the fifties it was rediscovered but remained largely unknown for many years. Accounts spoke of hacking through the jungle to reach the overgrown site.
It was with these tales in mind that I eagerly approached the castle but time had not been kind to my image. In the ensuing years a major road had been built right out front, the jungle had been cleared, the vines removed, and the lawn was freshly mown. What remained was a rather dull, half-finished building.
I was a little disappointed.
Taman Negara National Park, Malaysia
After the big city experience of Kuala Lumpur the only thing to do is head to the jungle. In this case Taman Negara National Park, the world's oldest rainforest and taking up a sizable chunk of Malaysia's north-east.
Despite being almost on the other coast it was just a three hour trip to the nearest town, Jerantut. From there it was a three hour boat trip up the river to the main site in the National Park. If you ignored the fact that a road was also recently put in to almost the same place you could feel quite away from it all.
Naturally I stayed in the village on the other side of the river to the proper resort. Who could turn down a 10 Ringgit bed (about $3.50)? I soon found some-one who could organise a trek in to the jungle. "They call me Crazy Like Monkey", he said, with I think a hint of sadness in his voice. I was thinking of doing a three-day two-night trek but the four others looking to go as well were a little more sensible and opted for just the one night in the jungle. I reluctantly accepted this idea.
The next morning we were preparing to go. I wanted to take my camera gear so I replaced my books and what-not in my daypack with a change of clothes. I was also going to have to carry a sleeping mat and bag and three litres of water. Our guide was going to carry all the food and cooking gear. At the last minute I dashed up to the local store to buy some tobacco. I'd heard it was good against leeches and wanted all the protection I could get.
First stop just a short way up the river was the famed (judging by the t-shirts) canopy walk. 25m high and 500m in length. But for us it was 10m high and 200m in length, as the second half was closed. Apparently the whole thing was closed until the complaints from the tourists became too loud. Judging by some of the ropes I saw they shouldn't be listening to tourists.
From there it was another half-hour or so up the river before docking at an abandoned resort. The bungalows were turned over to private management some years ago and it promptly went bankrupt. It was now decaying and being slowly reclaimed by the jungle. It was quite picturesque in it's own way.
We grabbed some lunch and then prepared for the start of the trek. Our guide pulled out his secret anti-leech weapon. Baygon! I also smeared my ankles with insect repellent then pulled out the tobacco and started stuffing it in my socks. I offered it to the others but they gave me a look like I was a little crazy.
Then we were off. The first leech-spotting occurred about five metres in to the trek. The evil little bugger waving around looking for a victim. Between dodging leeches, tree roots, mud puddles and fallen branches there wasn't much time to enjoy the wonders of the forest. Not that you could see more than a few metres to the side in any case.
After a couple of hours we stopped briefly at a hide overlooking a small clearing. We saw just what we expected. Nothing. There are actually tigers and elephants in this jungle but they are very rarely seen.
From there we continued to our nights stop. It started to rain in the afternoon. First just lightly so that it didn't even penetrate the canopy, but then harder and more persistant so soon we were all soaked. I optimistically pulled out my rain-jacket but it wasn't designed for this type of treatment. It ended up wetter on the inside than out.
After another couple of hours we reached our destination. A large cave in the middle of the jungle. The entrance was concealed behind a narrow split in the rocks so it was quite a revelation when it appeared. Once inside one of the other trekkers, Chris, and I spent a bit of time crawling up various side passages, trying to get closer to the bats.
Clothes were laid out and dinner was eaten. The rain had stopped outside so Chris and I decided to go for a night trek, armed with our powerful double double-A torches. We were soon rewarded with a sighting of a mouse deer. An animal that looks just like a small, maybe 50cm high, deer. We got quite close with both torches lighting up it's huge eyes before it scuttled off a short distance.
Emboldened by this success we ventured further in to the jungle. Fireflys abounded and eerily gave the impression of eyes everywhere. We started to wonder what would happen if we came across one of the one hundred or so remaining tigers. I foolishly had forgotten my pocket knife so we were defenceless if attacked.
The tigers didn't attack though, and the elephants seemed to be asleep also since we safely made it back to the cave. A good nights sleep on the smooth mud floor was somewhat hampered by the fact that the sleeping bags only reached lower chest high but we made it through the night.
The next day we had a leisurely breakfast before heading out. The plan today was to keep heading north for most of the day before meeting the boat at the top of the river.
Not far in to the day's trek we came across our first sign of the larger life in the forest. Elephant droppings. They were probably a little old though as a couple of mushrooms had had time to spring forth.
A little further own we turned off the trail for a short distance to visit the bat cave. This involved a short climb up a steep face supported by only a rope tied somewhere above. I tried to put out of my mind some of the knots I'd seen at the canopy walk.
I was first in to the cave and walked in a little way, hoping that my eyes would adjust to the light. I could see the bats lining the roof of the cave and several were flying around but my torch wasn't strong enough to pick them out well. I looked to my feet to see what I was walking on, at first glance it looked like fine soil. I then remembered the guide book mentioning that this cave was deep in guano. A slightly steadier look at the floor revealed that it was moving. In a scene straight out of Indiana Jones I quickly realised that the whole floor was covered in a seething mass of tiny cockroaches. At that I beat a hasty retreat to the rest of the group and more solid ground.
We stood a while looking at the bats and surroundings when our guide draw our attention to the left of the cave. Slowly sliding along the rock ledge at the back was the biggest snake I'd ever seen. Pure white and at least 3m long, probably 4. As we edged forward for a better look our guide said stop, rattlesnake. That was enough for us to keep our distance. We watched in silence as it slid across the length of the cave and started climbing the ledges on the right. Given it's size I don't give the bats much chance.
Back on the trail a little further along we saw another sign of the elephants. Footprints this time. We marvelled that they could even move through the jungle when we found the paths barely wide enough. Our guide assured us that they were quite stealthy. Which is defintely more than could be said for us.
The path began to climb and descend a little more often, as we crossed streams and climbed ridges. The ascents were only short and not too steep but in the energy-sapping conditions they seemed a lot more substantial. Finally, after another hour or two, we could here the river beside us. We all gained a little burst of energy from knowing that we were near the end.
All the streams so far we had crossed at water-level with a combination of rock-hopping and log-balancing. I was quietly pleased with my success on a couple of them. The last stream though was in a much deeper gully and so a suspension bridge had been strung across the 20m or so. We reached the edge of the bridge only to see that a huge tree had fallen across it on the far side. A few cables were still in place but the bridge was essentially wrecked. Somehow this didn't perturb our guide who proceeded to walk out a few paces on to the bridge as if nothing had happened. This emboldened Chris somewhat so he chanced it and crossed successfully. I went next and found that the bridge felt surprising stable, although the missing and rotting planks didn't do a lot for my confidence. The most difficult part turned out to be climbing over the 1.5m diameter tree. Soon we were all across but looking back at the scene of carnage, couldn't quite believe that we did it. I have no idea how high the bridge was. I wasn't looking down.
From there it was a short stroll to another abandoned resort. Again a mixture of decaying buildings and encroaching jungle. The boat had arrived at the jetty below so we trooped down to climb aboard and have a well-earned rest on the trip back. The dock was about a foot underwater so with a little disappointment I plunged my boots below water. They had kept dry for the entire trek up to now, despite mud, rain, and streams. A couple of steps and I had more than my boots to worry about. A couple of planks were completely missing and my foot plunged straight through the gap until I was hip deep in the water.
I climbed aboard the boat and we started off on the return journey. No sooner were we underway than it started raining. First a light drizzle then a full-on rainforest-in-the-wet-season downpour. This coupled with the boat driver's delight in hitting the rapids at speed and sending waves crashing in to the boat ensured we were soaked.
About half-way back we switched from the boat to inner tubes, to brave a few sets of rapids. "Any leeches in the river?", I asked. "No, not here", said the guide. I had my doubts in the first minute as I found one crawling along my hand. The weather had cleared a little so the tubing was fun. Past the rapids we got back in the boat for the rest of the journey back to the village.
Back to where we started we pulled our drenched gear out of the boat and went our separate ways to clean up. Having taken my boots off before the tubing I was particularly pleased to have had a leech count of zero. Thumbs up to the tobacco. And to think they laughed at me.
I pulled all my wet clothes off and went for a cold shower (the only kind I've had for a month). Still congratulating myself on my anti-leech success I noticed a small wriggling object in the bottom of the shower. A bloody leech! It took me a while to work out where it came from but I finally discovered the trickle of blood in the middle of my back. "The tubing!", I thought. No leeches in the river my arse.
I emptied my backpack and optimistically hung everything up to try to dry it out before heading out for some dinner with Chris and a couple of other guys I'd just met. It was New Year's Eve but most things in the village were closing at about 9pm. We thought the resort on the other side of the river might go on a bit longer but we had no way to get back. In the end we just grabbed a few cans of coke (beer being unavailable in the village) and sat around chatting. Despite the exhaustion we made it to midnight to hear a few cheers from here and there and then promptly went to bed.
Tomorrow I'm off to Pangkor Island for a little relaxation and to see if I can possibly get everything dry.
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.
Well actually, it is called a Quarter Pounder, despite the metric system. But it is the little things that make it different. For instance you can also get Ayam Goreng (chicken and rice) and Lime Juice.
The day started with an exploration of Chinatown, right on the doorstep of my 16 Ringgit guest-house (about $6), then on to the historic section, with a few remnants of colonial days.
From there is was a quick trip on the super-modern monorail to the heart of the business district. Best known for the huge Petronas Towers. Despite being a Sunday the park out the front was alive with people enjoying the sunshine, and their children enjoying the pools and fountains.
I was just thinking that the towers didn't seem as large as I expected when suddenly someone was plummeting from near the top. They passed the connecting bridge half-way up and the stopped with a jerk as their parachute opened. A base jumper. Over the next half-hour another dozen or so came down as they held a competition for who can land the closest to a mark on the ground. Sometimes it seemed like they were competing for who could go closest to the bridge whilst still free-falling. It was scary even from the ground.
Eventually high winds put a halt to the competition so I wound my way back across town to see the quite new Islamic Art Museum. Quite impressive, not least for the quality of their air-conditioning.
Finally I headed back to Chinatown and had a celebratory beer for my birthday. It came in at 8 Ringgit (happy hour prices) which just made me realise how cheap the accomodation is.
Tomorrow I'm off to Taman Negara National Park. At 130 million years of age possibly the oldest forest on the planet. It's near the east coast and it's much wetter over there (they keep mentioning "monsoon") but they don't call it rainforest for nothing.