Off the Couch and On the Road

We woke at 2am (well everyone else woke, with all the people and torches coming and going during the night I didn’t get a wink of sleep) and dressed quickly, adding pretty much all the layers we had brought with us, and head downstairs with the other 100-odd guests for a light snack before we started walking up to the summit at 2.45am.

We set off at a very slow and steady pace, climbing wooden stairs and rocks for about an hour, before we came to what I shall call the ‘really scary rope section’. It was literally a rock cliff with a rope that we had to navigate up, precariously navigating along a short ledge of rock about 5cm wide which separated the cliff and the town about a kilometre down. Our three mountain guides spread evenly amongst us to make sure we made it up ok, and it was amazing fun, kind of like a James Bond adventure (my hiking pass was actually numbered 007, which made it all the more funny). There were moments where I freaked out slightly, but there was always a mountain guide nearby, so I stopped thinking about it. After about 20-minutes of the scary ropes, there was more hiking – following the white rope up steep cliffs – and we spread out once again, the speedy ones with longer legs in front, me around the middle, and those unfortunately suffering from altitude sickness behind.

In the darkness, all you could see were a few twinkling head-torches in the distance, surrounded by an all-encompassing darkness. There were times where I couldn’t even see that – it was just me and my headtorch, lighting the white rope which I sometimes walked beside, and sometimes held on and hauled myself up the never-ending rock towards the summit. I took it slowly (I didn’t want to get to the summit before sunrise and freeze) and as the morning light turned everything a shade of blackish grey, I turned around and saw the clouds beneath me and rock towers surrounding me, and I felt an overwhelming sense of peace.

The climb to the summit is 2.7kms, and I think I felt every one of those last 700m. Dawn crept across the mountain, and I was just below the summit when the sun rose at 6am. I hauled myself up the last few metres, literally rock climbing past the ever-growing numbers of tourists who had arrived first, and found a few members of my group huddled together from the cold. I had my photo taken at the summit sign and admired the views, and after about 10mins decided to start the downward trek before there were so many tourists that I would fall off the very tiny rock I was sitting on. The only thing separating me on that tiny rock from the bottom of the mountain was a flimsy metal rail, and I didn’t really want to test its strength.

Now that the whole mountain was lit by sunlight, I was gobsmacked at how steep the climb was. Stupendously amazed. Words cannot explain how baffled I was that I made it up in the first place. I just could not believe it. (You get the idea.) But I had to get down somehow, so I took a deep breath and some more photos and began the very steep walk back down to base camp. I started the walk down as slow as I had climbed up, passing some people that were still on the way up, and totally downplaying how hard it was. “Yeah, oh it’s totally fine, you’re almost there! Yes it’s easy, absolutely!”

I experimented with getting down the steep bits, preferring to kind of step down sideways, instead of the more common backwards abseil method, and when I arrived back at the ‘really scary rope section’, the mountain guide magically appeared (we did he come from?) to help me down. Thank God, because I am fairly brave, but now that it was daylight you could see exactly how dangerous it was, and exactly how far down the bottom of the cliff was. I should mention that while I clung for dear life onto that rope, looking for guidance from the mountain guide every step of the way, he casually strolled down the cliff, one hand smoking a cigarette with the other in his pocket.

The views were spectacular on the way down, and I felt an amazing sense of achievement. We arrived at base camp at 9.30am, ready for a quick baby wipe shower, a dry top and a big breakfast, before the final descent back to Tampohan Gate where we began. Easy! We exclaimed as we stuffed food and coffee in our mouths. We did it! We laughed, congratulating ourselves. The first day was so lovely coming up we were sure it would be just as nice going down, in only half the time. Holy shit we were wrong. We were so, so wrong. Unbelievably wrong. Every step down sent shooting pains up my legs until the muscles could no longer support my body weight, and there were times I fell backwards to the ground, and instead of getting up, I just sat there and rested for a while. Once again I ended up alone near the middle, with a European couple for company who seemed to be going my pace. It took me 4.5-hours going down, not much shorter than going up, and my the time I hobbled down the last few steps, I was using the wooden railing for support on one side and my walking stick on the other, shaking like an old lady. Meanwhile, our porters were running past us, with no suggestions of tiredness. God, they breed them tough around here.

When I arrived back at the entrance to the trail, I caught the bus back to the lodge restaurant, enjoying a late lunch before our 40-minute bus ride to Poring Hot Springs that afternoon. Everyone was exhausted, and we dumped our bags and enjoyed a nice, hot, long shower in our motel-style accommodation before dinner at the restaurant downstairs. It had been a long, long day, and after one beer there was some delirious giggling before we decided that bed was probably a good idea. What an amazing day.

-Sarah

We woke at 6am, all ready for our hike up to the base camp at Mt Kinabalu, the highest mountain in Asia at 3272m. After a light breakfast and a sudden realisation that we had to fit lunch into our daypack (another attempt at packing, it was starting to feel like I was on The Amazing Race), we drove to the front gate, signed the registration book and started walking with boundless enthusiasm. Well, everyone else walked with boundless enthusiasm, I just kind of plodded along. With enthusiasm.

It was 6km altogether, which sounds deceptively easy, and it was, for a little while at least. There was a downhill section, surrounded by tropical rainforest – palms surrounded a boardwalk of flat sections and occasional steps, and the blooming flowers on the side of the road were beautiful, with tiny squirrels darting to and fro off the path. Then the flat section ended and all there was between me and the top of the mountain were ten trillion stairs (I may be exaggerating). Slowly our group of 12 spread out until I was walking alone at my own pace, with nothing but my steady breath and birdsong for company. The boardwalk turned to rock steps for a few kilometres, and when it started sprinkling with rain I was grateful for the cool water on my face. I was also pretty impressed with my solution for wet-weather hiking – jacket tied around my waist, and raincoat over my daypack and half closed around myself. When you added my nifty walking stick into the equation, I looked like a hobbit. Which would have been ridiculous, but you can pretty much get away with any kind of outfit when you’re hiking. It’s all part of the awesomeness of travel.

There were rest shelters every kilometre or so, where I sipped water, ate chocolate and sandwiches, and caught up with whatever group was resting at the time. The trail emerged from the rainforest into the open air of the rocky mountainside, and I couldn’t help but look back over the amazing views – cloud forests covering lush green mountains. I felt on top of the world.

I emerged at base camp, 5-hours 15-minutes later, and very glad to sit down. A quick baby wipe shower, a change into dry, warm clothes and a hot chocolate later, I was feeling fantastic, especially when the clouds started misting over outside and it started raining. Our lodge at Laban Rata was simple but beautiful, kind of like a ski lodge, and we all felt as though we had made it most of the way quite easily.

By about 3.45pm, the last of our group had arrived and we played scrabble to wile away the few hours before our early dinner at 4.45pm (I don’t think I’ve ever been that excited to have dinner at a quarter to five). After we stuffed ourselves, glad to see we hadn’t lost our appetite due to the altitude, there was some scrabble and a quick team briefing about tomorrow’s summit climb before bed. “Don’t get to the top too early, there’s nothing to do but wait for the sun to rise,” our mountain guide told us. With a 2.45am start, that sounded like a good plan to me.

-Sarah

We reluctantly woke with the roosters at 6am the next day, driving down the road to a rubber plantation where Robert, the owner of the homestay (and the whole village, it seemed. He was a retired politician so received a nice pension from the government) showed us how to milk the tree for rubber, which was valued at about $3 per kilo. To get to the plantation, we had to cross a river, flowing strong and clear over smooth rocks and pebbles, which was an experience in itself. Robert walked straight in, shoes and dress pants and all, while the rest of us flailed around, only just managing not to fall in the river.

Afterwards, we wandered down to a nearby stream and waterhole for a swim (or in my case, a leg dip. I couldn’t help but think about carting wet clothes around and all the insect repellant I would have to reapply) and returned to the house for a huge breakfast of Singapore noodles, eggs and coffee. I spent the next hour or two unsuccessfully attempting to pack for the Mt Kinabalu climb, unpacking and repacking so many times I couldn’t even remember what I was packing for. Luckily our porters would take most of our cold weather gear up for us, so we would have dry, warm clothes waiting for us at the end of the first day of our hike.

Mt Kinabalu National Park was only an hour away, so after giving up on my ridiculous packing efforts and saying farewell to Robert and his family, it was a quick bus ride later before we were settled into our lodge at the base of Mt Kinabalu. The ‘single ladies’ dorm of four, including myself, decided to warm up our muscles by going on a gentle walk around the Botannical Gardens, venturing further afield on a longer trail that took about an hour altogether. It was a beautiful trail, the lush rainforest canopy above us, and picturesque wooden bridges crossing the river that we walked alongside for most of the way. The trail was only wide enough for one, and we quietly walked at a steady pace, enjoying the fresh air and peace.

I was glad I went for a warm up stroll, in the end. My uber-thick sports socks gave me blisters, and I freaked out at the fact that I had to climb a mountain with said blisters the next day. So while the others continued on, I walked back to the lodge and tended to my wounds, and attempted another round of packing (it was marginally better). It was good timing, as the afternoon clouds rolled in and the light rain drenched everything in sight.

I was, despite the blisters and the rain, beyond excited about the climb. I don’t know why climbing a mountain I’ve never heard of before excited me, but being completely surrounded by nature, miles from anywhere, breathing in fresh air and challenging myself with every step, is almost like therapy for me. It’s so calming, and such a solitary pursuit, and I couldn’t wait to get started. As long as the rain stopped. And my blisters didn’t make me cry. Yep, totally excited.

-Sarah

The following morning we slept in, bought a few last minute essentials, and chilled out until our mini-bus arrived to take us to the base of Mount Kinabalu. Everyone seemed so relaxed and friendly in Sabah, the cars drove the speed limit and stopped at red lights, and even the salespeople were too busy saying hello to actually try and sell us anything. Everyone walked down the street at a relaxed pace, and were always happy to give directions. It was lovely.

The village of Taginambur consisted of a few well-built two-storey homes, and we were welcomed with coconut sweets (I ate so many I felt sick, but God they were good) and cold water, before a demonstration of how to make coconut oil. The house was lovely, quite modern and set in front of a row of enormous black mountains. We tried to figure out which enormous mountain was the one we would climb the day after next. (I had a feeling it was so enormous we couldn’t actually see it from here, but I didn’t voice that opinion too loudly) The mountains we could see were beautiful, strung with clouds like tinsel beneath the hazy sky, surrounded by jungle. And enormous.

We hung out for the afternoon, ate an early dinner of chicken curry, and watched a traditional performance by local Dasun (the local tribe) kids accompanied by five boys drumming on huge metal pots, all hung by rope to a metal stand. We tried drumming and dancing along with them, causing general hilarity at our obvious lack of ability at both drumming and dancing. It was a lovely night, and I even managed to forget about climbing the enormous mountain. Almost.

-Sarah

My first day in Kota Kinabalu (KK) was not going to be too adventurous, but I was hungry, so I ventured out of my hotel to find food, map in hand. The heat and humidity immediately enveloped me, and I almost fell over with the shock. After what seemed like a lifetime trying to cross the street, I decided on an air-conditioned KFC for breakfast (hey, I was on holidays and it was New Years Day) and met a girl on the same trip as me, who convinced me we should try and be a little adventurous after all.

There was a lookout up a hill that we thought was within walking distance, and we ambled along the main highway, up a smaller road and even smaller stairs surrounded by rainforest, before arriving at a road that led directly into someone’s house. Right, then. Back down the stairs and one taxi ride later (wow, aren’t we glad we didn’t walk) we were at Observatory Hill, looking out over what seemed like a haphazard, half-modern, half-fishing village town plonked in the middle of the jungle. It was beautiful and deceptively small from our perspective.

After buying some essentials and enjoying an afternoon nap (as well as dosing myself up on headache tablets to combat the building caffeine withdrawals) I went down to the lobby to meet the rest of my group. There was a strange Irish couple, an even stranger English bloke who didn’t believe in personal space, and another couple that seemed to silently appear out of the walls and didn’t speak. Kind of creepy. I managed introductions and was in the midst of memorizing names and trying to keep the faltering conversation going, when a tour leader emerged and explained there were actually two groups departing on the same day. I admit I breathed a sigh of relief when the strange people left with their tour guide, and I was left with a lovely couple. More and more people joined our group (all lovely and not strange at all) until we reached our quota of 12 and we were good to go. Thank God.

We enjoyed dinner at an amazing Indian restaurant nearby, and walked through the night markets on the way back. Exotic fresh fruits and vegetables put any kind of market back home to shame, and the endless seafood stalls were filled to the brim with enormous fish, prawns the size of my forearm, and giant squid and lobster, all caught fresh and cooked on long charcoal grills in front of the customer. The 1.5kg lobster was $AUD30, and we regretted our restaurant meal as we tried to inhale as much of the heavenly scent as possible before returning to our hotel for an early night. I loved Borneo already.

-Sarah