AngeLog

Damai beach

We deserved this place after the hard night at Bako. We wished we had stayed here for two nights instead of at Bako, but then we wouldn’t have had the contrast to appreciate this place.

Damai has two Holiday Inn resorts so we were expecting the area to be a bit touristy and possibly over the top. We stayed at a beautiful place called the Permai Rainforest Resort in a tree-top house in the rainforest overlooking the beach. And yes, it was as good as it sounds. We thought there would have to be something wrong with the place and that could be the food (there was no town we could get to so we were forced to eat at the resort), but no, the food was great too. Fresh juice, whole coconuts, exciting Asian soup and all from a cafe in the rainforest overlooking the beach.

We got up early to do a short trail in hope of seeing monkeys. OK, so once again we didn’t see any monkeys but we knew they were there…. big ones. We heard some crashing through the trees so we stayed very still waited for probably half an hour for them to reveal themselves. No such luck but we did see some pretty ferocious looking ants.

The tide at the beach had gone way out so the Asian tourists had even longer to laugh at our swim-wear as we walked out to the shallow water. They mostly liked swimming in jeans and t-shirts so even the most modest swimwear was going to make them roll-around laughing. Catching waves the evening before when the tide was high also made them laugh. What else is one supposed to do when at the beach?

The jungle pool was certainly refreshing after being in the hot water of the ocean. We couldn’t stay at the beach too long so retreated to the jungle pool where cool water collected in a man-made pool at the base of a waterfall.

Bako National Park

What was the first thing we saw after paying our park entrance fees? A snake attacking a frog. It was all very calm; the snake had hold of one of the frog’s legs and the frog was sitting calmly enough plotting his next move. Luckily for the frog, the snake lost concentration when an unsuspecting tourist almost stepped on it.

Getting to Bako was half the fun. We boarded a local bus in the city (running the customary 30 minutes late) and took it to Bako Bazaar where we then had to get on a boat. The boat was like an 8 seater canoe with an outboard motor on it. The river was calm and narrow so we thought it funny that they insisted we wear life-jackets. Halfway into the trip we all frantically secured the lifejackets to our bodies the best we could seeing most of the zippers were broken – suddenly the river had become the ocean and while the driver was most skilled in zig-zagging through the waves, it was still a bumpy ride. A fun ride. We decided that people pay good money for these sorts of adventures on Sydney Harbour. The water was beautifully warm and then the beach came into view. We jumped into the knee deep water with our luggage on our backs and made our way to the shore.

Little monkeys – (long-tailed macaques) – were all around the beach area trying to steal things from tourists. We tried to scare one away from a tourist’s bag that was left unguarded but the monkey came running after us instead. The Sarawak Museum had a stuffed version with very sharp little teeth so, assumming this one did too, we backed away.

There were giant lizards, bearded pigs, birds, squirrels and butterflies, but the proboscis monkey remained elusive. We spent hours in the mangroves in the morning waiting quietly for them to appear but they didn’t. Must’ve been the rain keeping them away.

On the first day (and it felt like a long day) we trekked to the beach along a track called Telok Pandan Kecil. Who would’ve thought that walking to the beach could be so difficult? OK, so it was really hot, really humid so we should’ve known better. The first park of the trek was an almost vertical climb through beautiful jungle and then the top of the mountain cleared and it looked just like an Australian beach landscape….. flat, reddish rocks and bush like scrub (I’m sure Holly, my environmentally aware companion, could give a more accurate description and possibly even botanical names). There were wet sandy trails to negotiate before we got a spectacular view over Pandan Besar. We continued onto Pandan Kecil for a swim and it was the first time we’d be cool in days…. sadly it didn’t last long. We had the entire beach to ourselves and so stayed for as long as we thought we could before the tide would cut off our track back to civilisation.

Civilisation? Hardly. So you’ve made it this far into the entry and I still haven’t mentioned the food or accommodation.

I’ll keep it brief because it’s nothing to write home about. Mouldy accommodation with a semi-manual toilet. Think that’s bad? You should’ve seen the ‘cafe’. The western food consisted of kinda frozen chips, chicken nuggets and hamburger patties (they were in the buffet so I’m really not sure if they were going to get cooked at all… yes, that troubles me too), and there were ‘local’ choices but my travel doctor always told me not to eat chicken that had been sitting at a warmish temperature for possibly days. Oh and if you didn’t eat it at lunch it’d still be there at dinner time… at least that’s what it looked like! The image of those brownish hard-boiled eggs with flies over them will stay with me for some time. Ugh. I’m glad we had some soya crisps with us.

The scariest part of the Bako trip was the last morning when it was pouring with rain for hours. We were scared of having to stay another night in the smelly accommodation and having to ration the few remaining soya crisps. We asked if we could get a boat if it was still raining and were told ‘Some say yes, some say no. I say no. I’ll book you a boat for 12pm!’ What? Luckily it cleared up by 12 and we were soon back at Bako Bazaar stocking up on a kilo of bananas for 30 cents.

Kuching… again

I finally get it. Kuching is suddenly all making sense now that we have less than 24 hours left here. Maybe we just needed the contrast of roughing it in Bako national park, or the hilarious-ness of the Damai Beach and what it had to offer. More on those later because we’re just back from dinner with fellow lodge people (including an Aussie from Newtown who went to school with someone I work with), and now we’re going up to the roof top bar.

So why does Kuching now make sense? We found a supermarket. Asian supermarkets rock. We realised that eating at the authentic looking local places are not the way to go. We’re just back from a pretty good meal at a boring western looking place. Sure, we’d never heard of the cheap Australian wine we had with our Malaysian food, but the food was more interesting that most of the roadside stuff we’ve had so far.

Posts on Bako and Damai to come. Do tune in for both because they’re sure to be hilarious. Firstly because Bako was like being in the army (I imagine), and secondly because Damai and its “cultural village” involved audience participation. That always makes me cringe.

Oh and no, the Proboscis monkey hid from us this morning but tomorrow we shall definitely see Orang Utans.

Kuching

It’s strange being a tourist in a city when you’re not the type of tourist being catered for. It’s a funny mix of being a novelty to the locals one moment, and walking past a giant Hilton Hotel and then a KFC. Kuching seems to get lots of Asian tourists from Singapore, other parts of Malaysia and Korea too. There are no streets of internet cafes and signs for cheap international phone calls, nor are there any chilled-out bars by the river or night markets selling fisherman’s pants.

In one long day we feel we’ve covered the entire city but more on that later. For now Bako National Park calls. Tomorrow night we’ll be staying in a treehouse in Damai National Park.

Singapore

Words to describe Singapore: clean, efficient, clean, friendly, clean, well-planned and cleaner again.

It’s quite nice to be in a clean city, and it is a beautiful city where they disguise their flyover freeways with vines and lush tropical gardens. By the end of the day it was starting to get on our nerves and look like a socialist regime though. People would mop around our feet and enter bathrooms after us to clean up. Most disturbing were the educational signs explaining the importance of everything from washing and drying your hands rather than shaking them dry on the bathroom floor, to not throwing yourself onto the MRT tracks.

Singapore certainly isn’t a city that gets up early. We landed at 4am and were in the city by the waterfront at 7am. Walking the pristine and empty streets around City Hall admiring the obscure mix of architecture was appreciated later in the day when we went back there to find it bustling with people.

Holly and I certainly accomplished a lot in a short time. Little India in the morning, followed by Sim Lim Square, then onto Chinatown and finally a look through Raffles. Finding some markets not far from Sim Lim Square was just what we needed in the morning. I was able to tick two of my favourite things off my list – eating mangosteens and drinking strong coffee with lots of sweetened condensed milk. We ate and drank in a mall as we watched people rubbing a giant gold buddha in front of a shop. There were some beautiful temples in that area as well (photos to come).

Sim Lim Square was really cool. I love a good electronics store and this was eight floors of them at bargain prices. Interestingly enough I was strong and didn’t rush in to buy anything. I’ll save that for JB at the end of the trip.

Chinatown is where the monsoon season emerged for the day. We hid for cover in a hawker food centre and had a great lunch for a couple of dollars. Tough. We then found a very funky store selling all sorts of clothes and bags and homewares mostly from local designers. Of course I managed to find a little something to add to my extensive ‘things-bought-while-travelling’ wardrobe.

What is missing from this post is that at almost every destination we spoke to at least one person who realised we were tourists and wanted to help out in some way. It’s almost like they’re competing to be good citizens! No, it’s lovely to feel welcome and get some insider tips on what to do and where to go.

We ended our 12 hours in Singapore thinking that Singapore is the Asian city you go to when you don’t want to go to an Asian city. The culture and great food is there, but what’s missing is the crazy driving, the lack of organisation, and above all, leaving things to chance – that’s when the most interesting things happen.

Oh and lastly, the funniest thing was the washing sticks they hang out of their huge apartment blocks – kinda like a flagpole, but suspended diagonally out from the building looking very precarious. Photos of that will certainly be on the gallery soon!