ItineraryCROSS COUNTRY SARAWAK
A colleague once related how our KL office sent some document destined for Bintulu to our Kuching office by mistake. When the office assistant in KL was informed about it, she blankly replied, "Like that ah, then can hand over the consignment to Bintulu?"
That Bintulu is about 10 hours by road from Kuching did not occur to our KL colleague, "So far one, meh?" After all, Sarawak is one of 13 states in Malaysia and how big can it get, right?
As Malaysian states go, Sarawak is huge. Picture this: drive from Padang Besar (Perlis) to Johor Bharu and then loop northwards via the east coast road to Kota Bharu (Kelantan)…about 1,500km in all. That's about the distance of the Sarawak stretch of the Pan Borneo Highway from Sematan to Lawas.
Having lived in Kuching for over two years now, I thought it was time I acquaint myself with the other divisions in Bumi Kenyalang (Land of the Hornbill). This was an opportune time and having a car here solved the transport woes. Besides, my wife and I needed a break from work and the parenting routine of night feeds and diaper changes.
And so, with a road map on hand, we set off on our little expedition across Sarawak.
We took off from Kuching at 5.30 a.m. in high spirits. For the early part of the journey, we were greeted with a picturesque scene of the first ray of light piercing through the mist that had enveloped the forest canopy. As the sun climbed higher, the mist slowly disappeared, like a curtain fall after a spectacular show.
Our first stop was Mukah, heartland of the Melanau people. Mukah is approximately 9 hours drive from Kuching. The stretch of road leading into Mukah, right after the turn off from the main Sibu-Bintulu trunk road, is a lonely one. The undulating landscape and homogeneous rows of trees from the palm oil plantations seemed like an unending sea of green. Occasionally, a wave from the friendly kids in the longhouse commune broke the monotony of the long drive into this coastal town.
We finally arrived in Mukah just after noon. We had initially wanted to check into one of the rustic beach chalets but it was a weekend and the chalets were all full. Instead, we checked into King Ing, a cheap and clean hotel ALA "rumah tumpangan" in the town centre. After a short rest and some freshening up, we hopped onto the mountain bikes that we had lugged along and started to explore the town.
Mukah town is characteristic of many small Malaysian towns: parallel rows of Chinese shop lots, five foot ways, an outstation bus terminal next to a bustling market place and of course, the ubiquitous blue tiled roof of the Police Station. We cycled past the town's main mosque which has a rather eye catching rooftop that is designed like the terendak or the Melanau hat.
Banners and streamers, left behind from the Pesta Kaul celebrations a week earlier, still hung all over town. Pesta Kaul is a Melanau thanksgiving festival and is the time of the year when this sleepy village springs to life. From what we heard, the Pesta Kaul is celebrated with much gaiety and spontaneity in Mukah. Over the years, the religious significance of this festival has been toned down and its cultural significance emphasised, since many of the Melanau people have embraced either Islam or Christianity.
I suppose the "soul" of Mukah lies in the kampongs. Most village houses are built on stilts and linked by a wooden walkway. A short walk from the main road to Kampung Telian is the Lamin Dana, an attractive double storey wooden tall house, one of the few remaining in Sarawak. (The most authentic tall house is actually the one at the Sarawak Cultural Village in Santubong).
The Lamin Dana was actually built on the original site of a tall house that was ravaged by a fire many years ago. An attendant told us that a group of Melanau professionals have set up the Lamin Dana as a mini museum to preserve the Melanau culture and heritage. It also doubles as a guesthouse for those seeking an alternative home-stay type accommodation.
From Kampung Telian, we cycled 7km back to Mukah town. By the time we got back, it was getting dark and our bums were sore from riding on the mountain bikes. We were famished and looked forward to a sumptuous seafood dinner.
A friend in Kuching had recommended trying the umai while in Mukah. Why not? Umai is the Melanau equivalent of kerabu: thinly sliced raw fish with onions and lime. I don't know if our hunger affected our taste buds but it was exquisite. It made for an excellent appetiser and went well with the sago pellets that Mukah is famous for. As it turned out, the seafood dinner was only a mediocre fare.
A MOUNTAIN CALLED SHOE IN NIAH (DAYS 2/3)
The next morning, we stocked up our supplies with tebalo (a kind of sago crackers), from the market. We took a last look around Mukah town and then made our way to Niah National Park.
Compared with the day before, we expected the travelling time on the second day to be shorter. Except for a handful of nasty potholes, the road condition to Bintulu was generally smooth, passing by a number of longhouse communes along the way. We stopped over in Bintulu to have our lunch and to refuel. From Bintulu, it was another 3-hour drive to Niah National Park.
After checking into our hostel room at the Niah National Park around 4pm, we took a brisk walk on the wooden walkway to the Great Cave. We didn't want to miss the spectacle of the "changing of guard" between the returning swiflets and the outgoing bats. The brochures described the phenomenon as an "intermingling of two dark clouds" and takes place every evening at the entrance of the Great Cave
When we reached the Great Cave 45 minutes later, we quickly positioned ourselves near the archaeological site. With the camera on standby, we waited. An hour later, we were still languishing for the big event but it was apparent that the "intermingling of dark clouds" was not going to happen. Perhaps we were anticipating a blood bath between birds and mammals? What we noticed, however, was an increased level of activity at the cave entrance as bats hovered above the roof of the cave and made its exit from another point, just as the swiftlets were noisily streaming into the cave.
By 6.30 p.m., it was all quiet and dark. We tried hard not to think of vampires and jungle spirits as we hurried back to the park quarters.
The next morning, we were woken up by a symphony of sounds of birds, insects and monkeys. For city folks like us who are more in tune with the noise of morning traffic, this was a welcome change. With heavy eyelids and aching thighs, we reluctantly got out of bed. It had seemed like 8.00 a.m. but it was just 7.00 a.m. and then it occurred to us that going eastwards meant that the sun rose earlier than usual. Yawn!
Despite our tiredness, I felt like a masochist that morning. I suggested a morning trek up Bukit Kasut for a panoramic view of the forest canopy. The short boat ride along Sungai Niah to the starting point of the trail was like straight off a National Geographic expedition. It seemed like a positive start. But it was not to be.
The trail was muddy and the ascent was steep. It had also started to rain. After trampling in the mud and climbing on the limestone rock for about 2 hours, my wife seemed convinced that we were not heading anywhere (although a hunch kept telling me that we were already ¾ way up). Nevertheless, thoughts of our daughter brought sense to our heads and we felt that it would be irresponsible of us to climb further and take on unnecessary risk. Instinctively, we turned back and made our way down. Besides, it was nearly noon and we had made prior arrangement with the boatman to pick us up from the jetty.
As if to add drama to it all, the boatman struck a drifting wood while he was manoeuvring a shallow part of the river. The impact dislodged the propeller from the shaft. For the next half an hour, we sat adrift on the boat while the boatman frantically tried to fix the propeller. I offered to lend a hand but it was obvious that the boatman did not need any.
The deafening silence of the surrounding jungle was punctuated by the sounds of hammering from the boatman. For some strange reason, scenes of crocodile attack from the movie Lake Placid kept flashing in my head. Thereon, all floating objects became suspects.
Fortunately, the river current was flowing in the direction of the park quarters. When we eventually drifted close to the jetty, we paddled with our bare hands, scooping up weeds and a few plastic bottles in the process. What a day! My wife quipped that it was the journey and not the destination that mattered. This was to become the mantra for the rest of our trip.
We checked out of our hostel room and had a late lunch at Batu Niah. By 2.30 p.m., we were on our way to Miri, a 3hour drive away.
Miri is a town born out of oil and the opulence is apparent. In some respect, the shopping centres here are more upmarket than the ones in Kuching. Perhaps this is to cater to the Bruneians who flock here in the weekends to shop. By virtue of the favourable currency exchange rate, the Bruneians must find it cheap to shop here just as the Singaporeans find it cheap to shop in Johor Bahru. Nevertheless, Miri was just a transit point for us to get to and from Mulu National Park and onwards to Limbang and back.
CAVES, BATS AND A LITTLE PLANE TO MULU (DAYS 4/5)
We arranged to leave our car with a friend in Miri and took only the essentials because each passenger on the flight to Mulu is entitled to only 10kg of baggage. The next 3 days was going to be a relaxing one: no driving, no mobile phone, no TV - just Mother Nature and us.
During check-in at the Miri Airport, we were surprised when told to stand on the weighing machine. Apparently, this was a safety precaution to ensure that the 19-seater twin otter plane was not overloaded. For a moment, we felt like cows in a cattle auction as we stood on the weighing machine while the counter staff took down our weights.
MAS operates the 30minute rural air service to Mulu using a 19-seater twin otter plane, by far the smallest plane that we have ever flown in. It was not difficult to appreciate the smallness of the plane especially when it flew into some light clouds. The feeling was not unlike a butterfly in a storm.
When we got to Mulu National Park, its beauty struck us. The park headquarters is set in a valley with Gunung Mulu and several other mountains forming a picturesque backdrop. For all the publicity surrounding it, Mulu sure lived up to our expectations.
Mulu National Park is the largest national park in Sarawak and a United Nations Heritage Site. The geological features here are truly impressive. The network of caves run for several hundred kilometres and many remain uncharted. Some of the cave chambers are so large that you can park several Boeing jumbo jets in them. Inside the caves, the stalagmite and stalactite formations are nature’s work of art. In some of the show caves, strategically positioned spotlights added warmth and colour an otherwise damp and cold interior. The array of limestone formations inside the caves is mind boggling.
We spent 3 days in Mulu visiting all the 4 show caves (Deer, Lang, Wind and Clearwater). Like Niah, getting to the caves involved walking on the wooden planks. The walk to Wind and Clearwater caves was particularly slippery which could have been dangerous because it was a 20m drop to the river below. One of the park rangers told us that a VIP's daughter once slipped on the plank walk and nearly fell to the bottom. Luckily for her, the backpack that she was carrying broke her fall. The worst would have been unimaginable.
Mulu is more than just caves. The surrounding forests are lush supporting a rich heritage of bio-diversity. In fact, when the Sarawak government invited the Royal Geographical Society in late 70s to help in the exploration of the rainforest here, many of the scientists were astonished by the richness of the flora and fauna here. The rainforest of Mulu conjures the romanticism of Borneo's wilderness; helped in no small part by ancient travellers’ tales of head hunting, sleek tourism marketing and the dubious role of a certain Swiss activist fighting for Penan rights.
When the park ranger recommended that we check out the daily exodus of bats from Deer Cave, we were a little sceptical at first, smarted by our experience in Niah. But we went anyway. Just before sunset (around 6pm), all eyes were focused on the exodus of hundreds of thousands (some say there were millions), of bats flying out from the mouth of the cave in a spiral fashion. That so many bats could co-ordinate their exit in an orderly fashion left us a little baffled. We were in awe.
Works of nature aside, Mulu is also home to the Penan people. Although the Penans are traditionally hunter-gatherers in the wild jungles, the Mulu surround has been declared a National Park. This meant that the Penans would have to settle into some sort of communal living. This was evident from the pockets of Penan settlements near the park headquarters. Let's hope that the tourism industry has brought some spin off benefits for them.
At the time when we were scheduled to catch the return flight back to Miri, the sky was overcast and we were a little reluctant to fly in the Otter plane. But we had little choice. We wanted to keep up with our planned schedule and flights to Miri were limited. Anyway, we soon discovered that our worries were unfounded. The return flight was surprisingly smooth because the pilots managed to avoid the dark clouds.
We were also in for a treat when the pilots made a short detour for an aerial view of Deer Cave. The aerial spectacle enabled us to appreciate the extent of Mulu's beauty. As the plane drew close to the mountain, I began to wonder if it was going to slam right into it, like a housefly about to be swatted. The pilots took the plane higher and I realised that they were actually planning to fly over the mountain for a sweeping view of The Pinnacles. If there was a landmark that represents the grandeur of Mulu, The Pinnacles must be it. Given its significance, it is not surprising that The Pinnacles should be featured in the RM 1 note (along with Mt Kinabalu).
The Pinnacles is actually a group of limestone rocks that was carved by rainfall and erosion through the millions of years. I thought the sight of the dagger-like rocks protruding from the forests and piercing into the heavens was rather bizarre. The excitement amongst the passengers in the plane was predictably frenzied but it did not last long as the pilots made an about turn and headed back to Miri.
During the quiet flight back, I reflected on what I saw in Mulu and wondered if it was going to remain in this pristine condition for long. There were signs of clearing and development in the area that I believe was to cater to a larger number of tourists. As it stands, Mulu already boasts of a five-star resort. I recalled coming across a plaque in the exhibition room at the park quarters that bore an inscription by Dr Mahattir. He indicated that Mulu is God's gift to us, Malaysians, and expressed his hope that the park would be preserved for future generations to come. I think that aptly sums up the wishes of many that have been to Mulu.
On arrival in Miri, we picked up our car. After 3 consecutive meals of bland and oil soaked nasi goreng (fried rice) at the Mulu National Park, we opted for a proper lunch. Under the hot noon sun, we continued our on-road journey to Brunei and Limbang. A ferry crossing at Sungai Baram and a short drive later, we were at Sungai Tujoh, the Malaysia-Brunei customs point. (Pass the Brunei customs, the place is called Kuala Belait.)
At the Brunei customs, we faced some hassle with the customs officer who wanted us to pay duty for the mountain bikes that we had brought along. He demanded our purchase receipt so that an appropriate amount of duty could be taxed. Hello? Who would keep the receipt for a purchase made 3 years ago? We protested and pointed out to him that the bikes were old as evident from the scratches and dirt mark.
The officer was relentless. Finally, his superior intervened and accepted our explanation. What I couldn’t understand was the fuss over a pittance of custom duty in a country where its citizens need not pay any income tax at all. Nevertheless, I resolved not to let the little incident sullen my mood.
Thanks to the superb highway roads in Brunei, the driving condition improved tremendously. It was really smooth and easy all the way. We stopped by at Jerudong Park, a theme park built by the Sultan of Brunei as a gift to the people. In fact, the park was opened in conjunction with the Sultan's birthday and Michael Jackson was invited to perform for him then.
What used to be free, the entrance is now B$1.00 and each ride in the theme park is priced between B$2.00 to B$3.00. We paid with the Singapore Dollars that we had brought along since both currencies are fully convertible. It was a nice and clean park but surprisingly empty for a recreational theme park. Having been to some of the theme parks in West Malaysia, Jerudong Park did not appeal to us and we did not hang around for long.
We continued with our journey to Limbang but only after losing our way in Bandar Seri Begawan. Bandar is a busy and cosmopolitan city in this part of Borneo that somehow manages to elegantly fuse Islamic elements into a modern setting. The city is rather well planned but a dearth of directional signboards made navigation a little confusing to us. Perhaps we got too used to driving in the countryside.
After seeking for directions and several more wrong turns, we got to the Kuala Lurah customs point (or Tedungan in Malaysia). Customs formalities proceeded smoothly and once again, we were driving on familiar soils.
LIMBANG & LAWAS - FINAL FRONTIERS (DAY 7)
We arrived late in the evening and promptly checked into one of Limbang’s top hotel. We thought we could do with a little creature comfort after roughing it out for so many days. Hey, it's a holiday!
Limbang, being the principal divisional town, has a somewhat frontier feel to it. It is peculiar in that it is sandwiched between two parts of Brunei. If not for the Sungai Berawan and the estuary that opens into the South China Sea, Limbang would have been landlocked. Not surprising though, the river supports a busy riverine transport system, providing links to Bandar Seri Begawan, Lawas and Labuan.
We began Day 7 with an early morning stroll around the bustling market area and were intrigued by some of the jungle produce sold by the vendors. The Chinese, particularly Hokkien and Foochow, feature prominently here, as are the Brunei Malays and a good number of Orang Ulus (of Kelabit and Lun Bawang descent). It was interesting watching the Orang Ulu traders holding their own against the more affluent and sophisticated Bruneian shoppers. We bought a few bags of the famous Bario rice and stocked up our car with some kuih and other local delicacies.
After breakfast at the hotel, we headed to Lawas, the last major Sarawak town in Limbang Division (before Sabah). Getting to Lawas involved a ferry crossing at Pandaruan, re-entering and re-exiting Brunei at Puni and Labu respectively.
We had assumed that the exit clearance from Malaysia could be obtained at the customs point at Puni but it turned out that the Malaysia customs was located in Limbang town proper. So like good citizens, we turned back, paid the B$3.00 ferry toll, headed to Limbang, got the exit stamp on our passports and made our way to Puni again.
From Puni, the road was surprisingly ill maintained which gave us the impression that this part of Brunei was somewhat neglected. An hour later, we were at another customs and ferry crossing point in Labu. This would have been our fifth ferry crossing of the trip after Durin (between Sarikei and Sibu), Mukah, Sungai Baram (Miri) and Pandaruan/Puni. At RM10.00, the ferry toll was by far the most expensive.
The landing point on the Malaysian side is Terusan. If the names seemed confusing, well, they were confusing to us too as Malaysia and Brunei have different names for one location. At some point, we were unsure if we were in Brunei or Malaysia territories. Still, we managed to get to Lawas by noon.
We had not planned to get as far as Lawas but figured that we ought to drop by to have a look. Even if there was nothing of tourism value here, at least we could derive the satisfaction of having travelled the entire Pan-Borneo Highway in Sarawak, from Sematan to Lawas.
From Lawas, we were tempted to drive on to Sabah. After all, we were just 3 hours away from Kota Kinabalu. But at end of the day, sense prevailed as the l-o-o-o-n-n-n-g drive back to Kuching began to daunt on us. Furthermore, we were starting to miss our daughter since this was the first time that we have been apart from her for so many days.
So, Lawas was really just a touch-and-go stopover for us. Three ferry crossings, four border customs points and six hours later, we were back at Miri for another overnight stay.
SEA BREEZE AND COOL HEADS AT SIMILAJAU (DAY 8)
We left Miri after breakfast. It was raining cats and dogs and the town seemed like it was going to flood. We had planned to visit Lambir National Park, just 30 minutes from Miri, but the heavy rainfall had caused the river in the park to swell and flood the trail. So we changed our plan and headed to Similajau National Park in Bintulu Division instead. The lightning flashes bolting in the sky amidst the rolling hills provided a dramatic setting for our drive there.
Similajau National Park, being so close to the sea, is unique in its own way. It boasts of endless miles of sandy white beaches, mangrove swamp, thick foliage and a host of land and marine wildlife. Noteworthy, are the salt-water crocodile and the helmet head crab that are found here. The park has many trails for jungle trekking that warrants a few days stay even though the facilities in this park seemed a little run down compared with the other national parks in Sarawak.
Unfortunately, we were constrained by time and chose a short trek to the Viewing Point. The Viewing Point provided a vantage view of the park. On one side, partially blocked by the forests, was a view of the long stretch of beach. On another was a view of sea waves breaking on the rocks that sent the crabs scurrying all over. The sounds of the South China Sea and the rustling of the leaves combined with the fresh and mossy smell of the forests was…. aah….blissful…well, almost….if it wasn't for the graffiti and heap of rubbish on the wooden shed.
We set off from Similajau National Park around four in the evening and arrived at Sibu just after 7.00 p.m. Driving at night in Sibu was a little unnerving for us as we tried to navigate our way in the town with a not-so-useful map. Our predicament seemed to be made worse by the chaotic traffic situation from the recent implementation of a one-way street system in the town. It was quite comical as the town residents and out-of-town folks like us appeared to be moving in circles and not getting anywhere.
By the time we checked into the hotel, we were a little tired and the prospects of indulging in Foochow gastronomy, for which Sibu is famous, did not appeal to us. And we slept.
In our original plan, Sibu was supposed to be the last leg of our expedition before the home stretch to Kuching. However, due to the intensive driving during the last two days, we had an extra day (and night) to spare. Coincidentally, we had just read about the Pesta Benak or the Tidal Bore Festival that was going on in Sri Aman then. Hence, our impromptu stopover in Sri Aman, which was approximately mid-point and a 3-hour drive from either Sibu or Kuching.
We were pleasantly surprised that the normally quiet town had come alive with an air of festivity. Sri Aman is not featured highly on the tourist "must visit" place in Sarawak. On the contrary, the name belies the fact that it has the most number of reported cases of crocodile attack in the nation.
The tidal bore or benak (as it is known in Iban) is a natural phenomenon whereby the rising sea tide at the estuary causes a surge and reverses the hydraulic flow of the river. In the process, it creates a tidal wave to flow up river. There are only a few places in the world where the tidal bore phenomenon can be observed; the most famous is the Qiantang River tidal bore in Hangzhou Province, China.
In the case of the Batang Lupar tidal bore in Sri Aman, the wave front travels all the way to Engkilili, about 70km up river from the estuary. According to some locals (and later confirmed by the Drainage & Irrigation Department), the tidal bore takes place on every third and eighteenth day of the lunar calendar, supposedly, when the influence of the moon's gravitational pull on the tide is the strongest.
The entire town was like a giant funfair. There were stalls set up selling all sort of stuff that you find in pasar malam, an exhibition on the tidal bore, a regatta and all round merry making. With an ice cream on hand, we were pretty much strolling along with the crowd and soaking up the festive ambience. And of course, what's a Pesta Benak without the tidal bore?
Like many other anxious people, we quickly took our position at the riverfront. High tide was expected at 1545 hours. By 1540 hours, we were growing excited and were periodically craning our neck to see if it had arrived yet. About 10 minutes later, there were some rumblings from the crowd and someone shouted "Benak! Benak!" as if announcing the arrival of the tidal bore.
We could see the swell of the surf approaching from the river mouth. Five minutes later, the surf swept pass the pier and continued to move up river. All the while, a boat surfing race was going on and the commentary coming from the PA system added to the giddy excitement.
I was a little surprised by the size of the surf perhaps half expecting a tsunami wave. But it was an awesome sight nevertheless and I was somewhat overwhelmed by the fact that there are still many natural occurrences that are beyond the control of mankind.
The Benak went as quickly as it came. Before long, many of the out-of-town visitors were starting to pack off.
We were undecided where we were going to spend the night since we had not planned for this. We were tossing between spending the night in Sri Aman or Batang Ai. Looking at the deflating festive mood in Sri Aman we thought that a quiet sojourn at the Batang Ai Dam would be more appealing.
Batang Ai, located approximately 80km from Sri Aman, is a man-made dam that was flooded in a hydroelectric scheme many years ago. The dam is huge enough to be easily mistaken for an inland sea. Size is a relative perception but one thing is certain; the body of water is picturesque.
We reached the dam at around dusk. Stumps from dead trees sticking out from the water and shimmering in the twilight created a surreal ambience. Some youngsters, oblivious to the drowning sunlight, were engrossed in fishing. In the distance, a patch of dark clouds was delivering rain into the dam like a cyclical process.
We cuddled up on the enforcement bank, taking in the beauty of the surroundings while the haunting strains of Enya streamed from our portable CD player. For a moment, it seemed really romantic as we courted under the full moon. The arrival of a group of noisy bikers jolted us from our starry gaze and we left soon after.
We headed to Lubok Antu, the nearest town from the dam where we could stay overnight. When we arrived at around 7.30 p.m., a black out had just occurred and the whole town was pitch dark. I thought it was rather ironic considering the town's proximity to a hydroelectric power plant.
"Ini sudah biasa bah. Apa mau buat? (This is common. What to do?)", the inn keeper shrugged. We offered a sympathetic smile, checked into our room and watched Astro (running on the inn's generator set) for the rest of the night.
This being the last day of our trip, we planned to take it easy. Along the way, we stopped by at the Ranchan Falls, a popular waterfall in Serian. The waterfall has a number of cascading pools that are suitable for swimming.
It being a public holiday, the area was expectedly crowded. We sat around and people watch. A teenage boy jumped off from a rock and did a somersault in the air before plunging into a pool below. A 3-generation family was having a picnic. A mother was running after her naked son with a towel slung over her neck. A group of girls with heavy make-up looked around clueless in their plaform shoes with 6-inch thick soles. Ah, Malaysia!
After being on the road for 10days, we were cheered by the prospects of returning to our daughter in Kuching. We felt somewhat recharged from the journey. While driving back, I could not help but be seduced by the thought of another expedition to Sabah in the not too distant future to possibly include shooting the rapids in Kapit Division and trekking in the Kelabit/Bario Highlands.
When we got back Kuching, we would have tripped 3,300 km, spent about RM 1,400 poorer and gained immensely from our Sarawak experience.
BY: LEE TZE IAN
11 AUG 2001