The idea of Borneo has always conjured thoughts of wild and remote jungles somewhere off on the other side of the world. To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I ever really knew where Borneo was, how big it was, or even that it wasn’t actually a country, but an island shared by two. After flipping through my Southeast Asia Lonely Planet, I was pleasantly surprised to see that Borneo was actually going to be a part of my adventure. I was also surprised to learn how big it is, comprising a significant portion of the land mass of both Malaysia and Indonesia.
I made my home-base in Kuching, on the western edge, as it was meant to not only be a gateway to the jungles and the animals held within, but also a buzzing mesh of cultures from around Asia, with a serene riverside setting. While the former was most definitely the case, I must admit that I was disappointed in the city itself. In stark contrast to the friendliness and energy of Bali, the whole city of Kuching just seemed to be in a trance. While I most definitely didn’t fit in among the large Muslim and Chinese populations, I wasn’t necessarily receiving stares so much as being flatly ignored, even perusing through souvenir shops. As I settled into my 8-bed dorm room as the lone occupant, after failing to book a cultural tour to a local tribe due to none of the agencies having the minimum number of guests to run the tour (which was 2 by the way), I began to wonder if I’d misread the guidebook’s recommendations on the place, and if I should have just set up shop in Bingin back on Bali.
Thankfully, with each passing day, I reset my expectations and began to enjoy some pretty wild sights. The carefree orangutans glided through the tree branches before finding what looked to be a quite comfortable perch among the trees above my head. Faces full of expression (usually that of satisfaction) made for plenty of staring contests throughout the morning. Mother and child combos crashed through the trees in the distance before making their way near the small crowd of people, hanging upside down in the trees, cracking coconuts and peeling bananas.
An hour outside of Kuching, Bako national park held a network of coastal trails reaching the South China Sea. The trails were slightly less well maintained than what I’d grown accustomed to in New Zealand, as broken, far-too-steep steps and eroding cliff sides had me on full alert around the mostly deserted outer trails. All the better though, as the beaches I found were mine and mine alone. The park held within it those crazy, food-stealing macaques that found me on Bali, as well as the coveted Proboscis monkeys, long snouts and pot bellies in their full glory. Throw in some vipers, bearded pigs, and all sorts of creepy crawlers, and I’d say I found the wild jungle experience I was hoping for. Staying a night in the basic lodging in the park added to the experience, as the early morning risers of the jungle put on quite a show of swinging through the trees, snacking on leaves, and calling to each other.
Back in Kuching, my failed attempt to switch my flight to a day earlier resulted in a rooftop sunset panorama that provided my first glimpse into the grand potential hiding within the city. Mountain cone in the distance, burning river below speckled in traditional boats, and a bustling marketplace strewn along the river front. I imagined what the city may have been like 50 years ago, or maybe what it will be 50 years from now. At that moment, though, I was content to embrace what I was given, and appreciate Kuching’s indignant effort to show off its beauty held within.
