Burma or Myanmar?

Officially Burma is called the 'Republic of the Union of Myanmar' (pronounced MEanmar). This is the name reconised by the UN and is intended to be inclusive of the population, only 68% of whom are 'Bamar'.

Aung San Suu Kyi, daughter of a national hero and leader of the National League for Democracy (NDL) still calls it Burma, as do nearly all groups opposed to the government - and thats a lot. I also think 'Burma', like Bombay (Mumbai), Siam (Thailand) and Saigon (Ho Chi Mihn City) sounds nicer.

To date Burma holds the record as the longest running military dictatorship. From the 1960s to 2010 the government nationalised most of the country's industries and businesses, severely restricted internatinal trade, allowed only 24 hour tourist visas and controlled all media, isolating Burma from the rest of the world and runining the economy. In 1988 the government used extreme violence to put a stop to peaceful protest marches... and then called an election. Headed by Aung San Suu Kyi, the NDL won 82% of the assembly seats. The military simply refused to transfer power, threw elected officials into jail and beat protesters.

After the election in 2011, a quasi-civillian government was sworn in, Aung San Suu Kyi was released from house arrest after fifteen years and the tourism boycott that had existed for over a decade was lifted. Unfortunatley the former general and prime minister, was 'chosen' by elected officials to be the new President and as a result neither the US nor the EU fully dropped their sactions against Burma. Many people see the freedom, although restricted, of political prisoners as progress, others see it as no differnt from the past half century with over 2000 policial prisoners still in jail or under house arrest. Many still object to tourists visiting such a corrupt country, as so much of their money ends up in government hands. However, a section in the guide books lists the pros and cons of going: such as the creation of jobs and the welcome from locals who want to interact with the outside world; compared with the symbolic 'stamp of approal' tourism gives the government. However, the pros outweigh the cons, and there are numerous ways to ensure ones money goes where it is needed, rather than to the government.

One of the most devout Buddhist countries in the world, Burma has changed little since British colonial times. Most men and women still wear traditional skirt-like longyi, where as most of the rest of south east Asia has been overwhelmed by western clothing. Horse and cart is still used regularly and there are no 7/11's, McDonalds or international mobile signal.What little internet they have is very, very slow*. As I am getting fed up of all this anyway; car fumes, advertising, Coca-Cola and Dairy Milk everywhere, everyone speaking English and taking away the sense of adventure, I hope it is going to be the perfect way to end six months in Asia.

* So I might not be able to put too many posts online, but I will still write them and put them up in a couple of weeks.

Borneo to Burma

After canopy walks, waterfalls, caves and bats in the jungle at Mulu we make our way to Burma... a jounrey which takes us a week. First we have to fly out of the jungle and spend the night in Miri, before flying back to Kota Kinabalu where we catch our return flight for Kuala Lumpur on main land Malaysia. Before we can fly to Burma we have to apply for visas at the embassy, but because we arrive late on a thursday they won't be ready to collect until after the weekend. So we have three days to kill and we don't want to spend them in one of the largest cities in the world. Instead we head to near by Pangkor island for three days which we treat as a holiday (day to day travelling is not a holiday!). We swim and sunbathe and eat sea food and ice cream. One moning when we are having breakfast outside our hut a huge Hornbill flies down and sits on the near by telephone wire. Having spent four days in the jungle looking for these with no success we are amazed when more come down to join it.

Next its back to Kuala Lumpur for a night to collect our visas and change money into US dollars. This takes a very long time. The Burmese currency, Kyat, can only be purchased within Burma and only with crisp, unfolded, 2006 or later dollar bills. The slightest mark, tear or bend means they wont be accepted. To make matters worse, Burmese ATMs don't accept foreign cards, so if your dollars get bent before they're exchanged, your stuck. After explaining to eight money changers what were after we finally get our dollars, carefully stored in an envelope which is between a book and in a plastic folder. Boarding passes printed we head to the airport at midnight for a disturbed sleep on a bench before our 6:00 flight. 

More Caves!

Above: Stalictites

Above: Clear Water Cave, with the river that formed it still flowing inside.

Deer Cave

Deer Cave - so called because deer used to come a drink here; "but not anymore, because of all the tourists" - is the second biggest cave in the world, after one recently discovered in Vietnam. Some of the guides at Mulu still refer to it as the largest and proudly tell us of the time they met David Attenborough, when the cave was featured on the Planet Earth series.

We walk into the cave for about 5 minutes before turning around to look at the silhouette of a face, formed in a rock in the cave entrance. The cave is big. Really, really big. We spend over an hour in it. We walk along board walks past pools which are home to fish, turned blind and colourless from the dark and up steps over mounds of bat 'guano' (the technical term). My torch light shows the mounds to be teaming with insects - crickets, centipedes, cockroaches. My light doesn't reach to the roof of the cave but I can here the the million bats above, chattering away to each other.

In the evening, between five and six thirty, all three million bats fly out of Deer Cave to eat fruit and insects. The park as set up a seating area outside the cave and by the time we arrive there are already about fifty other people waiting for the bats. It takes about an hour, when it is almost dark, for the bats to arrive. I had been expecting all three million bats to fly out of the cave at once, with deafening screeches, blacking out the sky, Ride of the Valkyries playing in the back-ground. Instead they come out in 'small' bursts, of what is probably thousands at a time, appearing as small swirls of black. They are visible only as they hit the skyline, making the hillside look like it's smoking as they waft higher in a spiral (to confuse the waiting hawks) before disappearing over the jungle). Between the exclamations of the other tourists I can hear their wings flapping. Despite the lack of dramatic music it is still amazing.

Gunung Mulu National Park

Gunung Mulu National Park can be reached by car (12 hours in a 4x4 along logging roads), boat (four altogether, and only if the river is high enough and there is someone willing to take you) or plane. Most people go by plane - two by two seats and steps which fold out of the side of the plane itself. We take off and the seat belt signs are off for fifteen minutes before they're turned on again for descent. The airport consists of a large hall, where all the bags are dumped in a pile.

There are two roads in Mulu, arranged in a 'T' shape. Along the top of the 'T' are various home-stays, guest houses and cafes, dead ends either way. The other road lead to the park HQ, reached via a rope bridge. It is here that we receive our five day wrist bands, giving us access to the park, and sign up for all the activities we want to do. There are four 'show' caves, which are open for anyone to go on a guided tour. They are lit, have wooden walkways and helpul signs. The three 'adventure' caves are for experienced cavers only and there are also guided walks, such as the night walk and canopy walk, unguided walks around the jungle, a waterfall and a bird hide. We spend a good half hour reading leaflets, making a timetable and signing up for trips, summer camp style. Every slot of our three days is filled, down to where we have lunch.

Brunei

Ok, I admit that being en-route to the other half of Borneo is only part of the reason we decide to go to Brunei - we also wanted the stamps in our passports. We have a week left on Borneo and want to visit Mulu National Park, which is on the other side of the tiny sultanate, officially named 'Nation of Brunei, Abode of Peace'. We plan to stay for just two nights in the capital of Bandar Seri Begawan, enough time to see the palace (the largest residence in the world with over 1000 rooms), the mosque (the tallest building in Brunei) and Kampung Ayer (the largest stilt village in the world). A you noticing a theme? Brunei seems to be compensating for something - despite being one of the smallest countries in the world, about the size of Delaware, it is also one of the richest, with the largest oil fields in south east Asia (petrol is 25p a litre) and the most rapidly developing in terms of life expectancy, income and education.

Unfortunately we find out that the palace is only open to the during Hari Raya (the south east Asian name for Eid, the four days of celebration at the end of Ramadan), which ended the day before we arrive. It also turns out that the mosque on will be closed until the day after we leave... somehow also for Hari Raya. Surely the entire stilt village can't be closed too? As we head down to the water front to find a boat we are approached by a woman with flyers for tours on her husband's boat. Her name is Wann - "Like the number!"- and she gives us a "very good price" of 20 Brunei dollars (£10) for an hour around the village, which is what I would have paid anyway,

We speed past the schools, police stations, mosques and homes of the 42 villages which make up Kampung Ayer. It all looks very stable, raised out of the water on huge concrete pillars (unlike Mabul where everything was made of sticks). Apparently the houses never fall into the water (again, unlike Mabul) which is lucky as Wann tells us that most people can't swim - "They don't need too, that's what the stilts are for".

About half an hour into our tour the boat stops and a dock and we all get out to explore some of the board walks. Wann asks if we want to see inside one of the homes and ushers us into what on the outisde looks like a tiny hut but is infact a huge house. There is air conditioning, a flat screen tv between enormous speakers, a dinning room table and six huge sofas. We are brought cokes an introductions are made between us and the fifteen members of the family. The children watch us shyly, pushing each other to come and sit next to us, and the adults take pictures of us on their i-pads.

On the coffee table there are about 20 different bowls and jars filled with sweets, biscuits and crisps. Wann tells us to make ourselves at home and insists that we try them all. Watched in silence by the entire family we make our way through them, taking a tiny bit of each. Most are normal sponge cakes and sweets, but some taste very fishy, literally; one was a mixture of cornflakes, peanuts, honey and... anchovies, obviously. I ask if all the food is there to celebrate Hari Raya; "No, there is just nothing to do in Brunei except eat" says Waan, tucking into a sardine muffin.

After lots more photos, thank-yous, nodding and more thank-yous we leave to explore more of the village. The board walks are very well maintained, no gaps or sticking out nails. We pass more huge homes as well as shops and cafes. Several people stop Wann and ask if we will come into their homes for a drink, but, much to their disappointment and initially ours, she tells them that we haven't got time. The people in Brunei are a lot more friendly than in the rest of south east Asia - when we stand on the pavement cars actually stop and wave us across the road. When we walk down the street people call "Hello, welcome to Brunei!".

Kampung Ayer is home to over 30,000 people, 10% of the population of Brunei, and so our excellent tour shows us much more of Brunei than we would experience in the largest residence in the world or the tallest building in Brunei (although an invitation to the palace of the richest man in the world would have been nice).

Mabul Island

The tiny island of Mabul is an hours speed boat journey from main land Borneo. There are no cars and it takes less than 15 minutes to walk around the whole thing. Half the island - the cheap half, our half - is covered in a warren of stilt village over the water, offering cheap accommodation and diving. Below the rotten planks making up the 'paths' between huts patches of sea are visible amongst the floating rubbish. If anything its authentic - there are chickens everywhere, groups of children gambling and smoking, little shops selling coke and crips and music blaring out of huge speakers which are probably worth more than the huts which house them. Apart from the rubbish, I love it.

It is very expensive to stay on the island - we (me, Alex and our friends Hannah and Henry from Kinabalu) book into the cheapest dive school/hostel we can find at 70RM (£14) a night (on the main land we tend to pay 30RM/night). Now, were used to basic but this is beyond basic. No showers (bucket job), no electricity, no windows or mosquito nets, cats and rats everywhere. At night the entire structure sways and creaks with the waves. We can see the sea through our floorboards and the sky through the roof. Breakfast is 'Mee Goreng' - noodles with a fried egg on top - lunch and dinner are always rice, cabbage and fish. Admittedly breakfast is improved when a turtle swims past the dock, munching on sea grass, but that is the only thing 'Scuba Jeff's' has going for it.

 Everyone comes to Mabul for diving. Those who don't dive here and admit it get disbelieving and dirty looks. However when we arrive at SCUBA Jeff's we are informed that there is no dive equiptment and the one Dive Master they have is about to quit. We trawl the island, braving the treacherous board walks, looking for spaces with another dive schools but everyone is out diving. Those who have stayed behind are no help; "Diving? Scuba diving? Oh I don't know about that...'

So we give up and head to the OTHER side of the island, home to three luxury resorts - beach huts, swimming pools and white sandy beaches. It love this side of the island too, particualy the fact that no one questions our presence in the pools or at the buffets. After a relaxing afternoon we manage to book three dives for the next day with what seems to be a very organised dive school (at least in comparison to Scuba Jeff's).

We spend the evening looking for rum on a dry, Muslim island and actually find some (although its spelt 'Rhum'). We eat our rice and cabbage in the dark and watch the stars, helping us actually appreciate the lack of electricity.

 In the morning we cross to the nice side of the island and have three amazing dives. I see more than I have seen on all my Koh Tao dives put together - crocodile fish, frog fish, eels, lobster, harlequin sweet lips, an attacking trigger fish (not attacking me thankfully), cuttle fish, puffer fish and three HUGE tutles. The turtles swim right past us as if we're not even there. They seem to say "We're turles, who are you? Get out of our way you insignificant human".

The dive sites are all only 10 minutes from the island, so between the dives we come back to the resort for tea and coffee, then lunch, then more coffee and cake. I'm not sure if this was actually included in our dive package, but again no one questions us. I make sure to eat as much as possible to make up for the poor food at our hostel and half way through our final dive I realise that it would have been a good idea to put on an extra weight to stop me from floating to the surface.

I decide that excellent dives make up for our awful accommodation, but nearly change my mind when there is a storm in the middle of the night. Our stuff gets soaked, we get soaked, and I'm genuinely concerned that the whole of Mabul stilt village will float/blow away. Everything looks better in the morning when the sky is blue, the water is flat calm and we spot turtles off the dock - each time running for our snorkels and jumping in, only for them to disappear again.

Kinabatangan River Safari

Having seen Orangutans at the reserve we now want to see some in the wild. We stay in another safari style lodge which runs wildlife spotting cruises up and down the Kinabatangan river.

Our first cruise is at dawn and it is pouring with rain. The small boat seats eight people, all of whom are huddled under umbrellas or in their rain coats - not great conditions for spotting animals. Our first sighting is on the main river and of an Orangutan nest. The Orangutan is being very sensible and staying hidden from the rain, although our guide claims he can see it. He is very camp in skinny jeans and a quiff (the guide, not the Orangutan). Apparently on the evening cruise the night before he came out with lines such as 'We have five types of owls available for your viewing tonight' so I'm looking forward to what he will come out with this morning.

Turning off the main river and onto an over grown tributary our guide announces 'Ladies and Gentlemen, I have spotted something very special for you, can you see it?'. No one can see anything in particular, and it is eventually revealed to be a tiny caterpillar on one of the branches on a near by tree. It is too small to get a picture of and I have no idea how he spotted it. We reach an ox bow lake and our guide encourages us to put our feet in the water to be nibbled by the fish - 'No crocodiles, I promise!'. Two minutes later we spot a HUGE crocodile... luckily its dead. Our guide comments that it would make a nice handbag if it didn't smell so bad.

In the evening we go on a sun set cruise. The rain stopped three hours ago, apparently to perfect time to spot wildlife. First we spot a huge water monitor lizard sitting on a log. It watches us lazily for a while before sticking out his tongue and crawling away.

 The trees lining the river are filled with long tailed macaques, some with babies. We get a glimpse of an Orangutan in a tree far back from the river, visible to the eye but not through my camera lense or even Alex's, which is better than mine. Hornbills fly overhead and, just as were about to head back, we spot a group of Proboscis monkeys.

We have seen all the main animals listed as 'must see' in our guide book, even if it was only a glimpse of the Orangutan. To top it all off there is an amazing sunset as we rejoin the main river.

Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre

After climbing Mt Kinabalu we have a day recovering before heading deeper into Borneo to visit the Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre. The centre only allows visitors to watch the supplementary feeds of recently released orangutans, which emphasizes its role as a rehabilitation centre, not a zoo.

Most of the orangutans brought to the centre are babies - either found in the jungle alone after their mother has been killed by poachers, or found in cages as pets. Some adults are brought in starving as a result of deforestation. On the way to Sepilok we drive past huge palm oil plantations where there should have been jungle, leaving no food or shelter for the orangutans. The orangutan population has gone from 27, 000 to 15, 000 in just ten years.

Above: A helpul Orangutan carrying the milk dish.

All orangutans brought to the centre recieve a medical. Adults are rehabilitated as soon as possible, but babies require up to eight yeara of care. They need to be bottle fed, kept warm, taught how to climb and how to interact wih the jungle and with other orangutans. Once they are old enough, the begin to explore the immediate jungle surrounding the centre, eventually choosing to sleep outside rather than return every night. Most come back for supplementary feedings of fruit and milk while some leave forever.

Above: The Orangutans don't seem to distinguish between what we would call their legs/feet and arms/hands. They just have four limbs, using all of them to eat, climb, walk and gesture.

Mount Kinabalu. Day 2

When I get up at 2:00 I immediately take three paracetamol, lace my boots firmly and wrap up against the rain and cold. Our supper/breakfast consits of noodles or toast, but no one is very hungry. The first half of the 2.8km trail to the summit consists mostly of slippery wooden steps/ladders. I'm doing better than the day before, but still feel like throwing up. There are huge traffic jams and I manage to over-take some of the Korean package groups (all dressed in the latest fluorescent hiking gear), but Alex over takes more. Luckily we have joined up with two Brits, Hannah and Henry in a similar situation and I walk with Hannah of while Alex walks ahead with Henry.

The second half of the summit trail is sheer rock. If someone were to slip they would tumble a very long way and I'm quite glad its too dark to see the drop. A lot of the time we have to haul ourselves up on the ropes which had been strung between rocks and the odd shrub. Behind me I can see a line of head torches leading all the way down to Laban Rata. Further below that are the lights of the near by town and, even further, Kota Kinabalu.

 Two hours later I reach the top and it is FREEZING. My limbs get pins and needles and I am tempted to not bother waiting for sunrise, but luckily the horizon is already turning pink. We get a couple of photos by the summit sign, then start descending. As it gets lighter we can see where we had been walking. It looks like the moon - rocky and barren, covered in craters and stacks of granite.

Walking down is much quicker than up and I slip only once, grazing my palms and knees, which is remarkable considering how steep it is. On some parts we have to walk down backwards whilst holding the rope as if were absailing. We reach Laban Rata in just an hour and have our second breakfast before setting off again. By the time the rocky path gets better (at Km 4) my legs feel heavy and walking down steps is agony, so the ease of the path is wasted on them.

Having not been in the mood for taking pictures on the way up, I told myself I would take more on the way down... I wasn't in the mood then either. The last kilometer seems to last for about three, and my ankles give way twice. Eventually we stumble into the restaurant at the park head quarters, which is cruely placed down a flight of steps, for our afternoon tea break (another noodle and fried rice buffet!).

The finish  - I'm too tired to jump very high

My enjoyment at having finished is diminished by my disappointment in having struggled so much. Annapurna was tough but I enjoyed every minute of it. I felt like I didn't have time to enjoy Kinabalu - I kept my head down and took it one very difficult step at a time. I'm hoping that in a few days, when my legs have stopped aching, I will appreciate more and get a sense of achievement other than managing three servings at the buffets.