The higher, the better..

(potp: no toys, but colorful trains at a Malaysian train station on Borneo..)

-All the pictures-

WE ARE GOING WHERE?

Christoph, Andreas and Maik already on an AirAsia plane to Kota Kinabalu.
Maik: ‘How long is that flight gonna take, Christoph?’
Christoph: ‘I guess about 3hours’
Maik: ‘What? That’s quite long, considering the fact that we stay inside Malaysia?’
Christoph: ‘Well, we fly to Borneo, after all’
Maik (thinking quietly): ‘Borneo…Borneo? Damn it, right. This country has an island in the EAST! Bummer, just keep pretending that you knew all the time..'

That was the very moment when I finally realised that we were actually flying to another island, much farther than I was originally prepared for. Embarrassing, true, but it did not really matter in the end. I should have spent the 5 minutes to look into a map to find out where Kota Kinabalu and Mount Kinabalu actually where. But, you know…everyone’s busy nowadays. And flying is sometimes so cheap here that you really just choose a location that’s a bargain, only to find out later where you are actually heading.

So, Borneo. More specifically 'Sabah', the Eastern Borneo Part of beautiful Malaysia was waiting for us on this incredibly long (what do you think? 3 days of course) trip. We wanted to do some rafting and climb Mount Kinabalu, which is actually (original advertisement!) Southeast Asia's highest mountain.

THE MEANS IS AN END WITHIN ITSELF...

'Please mind the gap'

The rafting was due on Saturday. Including the trip to the venue, it was supposed to take the whole day. Well, the rafting lasted for only 50 minutes, due to heavy current and a flooded riverbank, which made the usual break on the way impossible. I also tried (involuntarily) Body-rafting, which is mainly a euphemism for being swept out of the boat by a monster wave and the following moment of adrenalin-floating (‘FEET FIRST; ENJOY!’), before you are being dragged in again. Also, surprising to me was that the present Malay girls (who were of course mostly Muslim) just wore the helmets ON their headscarfs during the ride..I am quite impressed by this commitment.

(one typical train stop)

Well, much more interesting was the ride to the rafting starting point itself. Our at least 40 years old train was packed with local Malaysians while passing through small villages in the Malaysian jungle for hours and hours. Some compartments were just a plain metal surface with no way to hold onto anything...which produced an awkward moment every time the train started again. The rails were in such an ‘interesting’ condition that the whole train had to free itself with a loud jolt after each stop, since some wheels were always stuck.

We were sitting next to local families, whose job of day it was to bring back their groceries…an act of buying some eggs, fruits and veggies, which takes the whole day because of the long ride. Unfortunately, there was no truly effective way to communicate, besides from body language and smiling (which worked nicely in general, but still could not get me the address of the lovely Malay girl who sat just next to me...)

MOUNT KINABALU!

(Mosque in Kota Kinabalu..the sky opens..)

As professional Singaporean pen pushers, we were of course perfectly in shape for Malaysians highest mountain :-) The first task on Sunday was to carry all our luggage to the hut, located around an altitude of approx. 3600m. Quite a good walk for one day, which was a bit spoiled for me by the non-presence of spaghetti there (I heard that there would be Spaghetti, and I was willing to pay HEAPS..but no convincing winking could persuade the pretty Malay employee to open the secret vault...)

(our guide..yes, we had to take one, although there was absolutely no need..We liked his outfit though..)

One interesting fact is that the big hut is mainly supplied by female porters who carry up and down the heaviest items. Usually they will carry more than 30kg (with a weight of maybe 60kg!). No need to highlight their most impressive calfs...They even have to carry big metal gas tanks...a sight that brings a European tourist easily back to earth.

Our late afternoon that Sunday on the hut was marked by drowsiness, lots and lots of mountain tea and the first time to feel the need to wear a sweatshirt after more than 6 months in tropical heat. We finally went to bed around 7pm (really!), only to get up at 2.30am for the final climb to the peak the next day.

(Me and Christoph..over the clouds..)

ANY STARBUCKS ON THE TOP?

We heard that the temperatures would propbably be around 5-10 degrees Celsius on the top, plus some considerable wind. During the breakfast at 2.30am, I was a bit amused to see many Tropic-proof Asians preparing as if they were up to a trip into artic climates...so many layers, skiing masks, thick gloves, as if there were -30°C outside.

(at the top! we did it; just a few minutes before sunrise..)

It took us about 3 hours to reach the final peak, mostly due to the fact that we were actually not the only ones who had the idea to do this on Monday morning. What a surprise :-) Nonetheless, it was an interesting bunch of people who made their way up there that morning. The final climb to the top was a tad exhausting indeed, but rewarded with astonishing views on the way back. I won't start to whine, whine, whine, whine about the long knee-destroying way down (I would have PAID a lot for someone to carry me down..)

The morale of the tale? This time there is none. 'Mountains are there to be climbed', might be one. And I learned that it is not a good idea to run the last meters before 4100, only because I feel I have too much energy left. I deserved the terrible sore muscles during the following week, but it was fun to run past the other puffing and panting climbers ;-)

Maik