The following morning we enjoyed a lovely breakfast of noodles and donuts (I asked how to say donut in Malay—it’s just ‘donut’ apparently), before saying goodbye to my host family and taking a private bus to the city of Sandakan two-hours away. It was a very bumpy ride, and we arrived at our hotel (the Hung Wing hotel, which was opposite a phone shop called Capital Cum. Seriously.) gratefully, with a few hours to walk around before doing the sightseeing thing that afternoon.
Sandakan seemed to be busier than KK, buildings pushed together like crowded teeth, horns blaring and people everywhere. I browsed the markets before a lunch of steamed buns and small yum-cha style dishes by the waterfront, which was only two streets away but seemed to be a lot more chilled out than the main thoroughfare.
A few others hunted down an internet cafe while I had a nap (I was so tired from all those sleepless nights) and we all met at 2pm to see the highlights of Sandakan. I travelled with Mr Lai, who learnt English from his tourist customers and had his car dashboard covered in a row of small stuffed toys given to him by a lot of Australians, it seemed, given the assortment of koalas and kangaroos he had aquired. True, he wasn’t a fantastic driver (there was a moment around a bend where we all sat in silence holding our breath) but he was hilarious and very knowledgable about the local area.
Our first stage was the English Tea House and Restaurant, where we sat in a pagola overlooking the city, surrounded by a lovely English garden and it’s resident peacock. We enjoyed Pimms with scones and Jam (it was far too hot for tea) and watched others play croquet on the lawn.
It was so lovely, I could have stayed there all afternoon, but soon enough we piled back into our taxi with Mr Lai (you like Beatles?) and travelled to the nearby Sandakan War Memorial, erected in conjunction with the Australian Government to honour the thousands of Australian, English and allied POW’s that died under awful conditions during the Second World War. Only six survived out of 2500, and only because they had escaped.
It was beautifully done, with quotes from the surviving six a reminder of the troops’ bravery and lucky we were to live in such peaceful times. One quick visit to a Buddhist temple later and we were back in time for a shower and repacking our small daypack for Turtle Island the next day. We were all a bit giddy at the thought of a relaxing day at the beach, so had a few beers at dinner by the waterfront, listening to dance music so loud it felt like midnight. Instead, we stumbled home at nine o’clock, exhausted after such a relaxing day.
Sarah