We met up with our local contact, Roy, who himself came from the “Orang Sungai” clan. Being a self-learner, he quickly grasped the ropes of commercial tourism and hence, Senbil B&B was created. Built on his own land, this was a modest, simple replica of how these people by the river lived. Our hut was spartanly charming. Literally a one-room shack nailed together from a few planks of wood, slapped on a zinc roof and you’re off to leasing it!
Our bed was quite comfortable, much to my surprise. The mozzie net was a God-sent. Now the highlight of our dwelling for the next two nights was the shower. No rain shower I had to tell you but wait for it – a cebok – you got me right, a local term for a bucket of river water and a scoop to rinse yourself clean of the day’s work. Now that’s what I called living it high by the riverbank! Exactly what I wanted. I know it’s not everyone’s game but if you’re looking to hilt it up here, then I suggest you go back to your cocoon of familiarity as getting all the way up to Bilit, the upriver part of the Kinabatangan, you’ll be hardpressed to ask for room service. But we had wanted to experience as closely as possible to how life goes by here. We still thought we were lucky enough to not have to get down by the riverbank and stand on a platform made from chopped off tree trunks tied together while washing up for the day. I don’t particularly fancy having crocodiles checking out my behind and thinking of dinner… another time folks!
Our bed was quite comfortable, much to my surprise. The mozzie net was a God-sent. Now the highlight of our dwelling for the next two nights was the shower. No rain shower I had to tell you but wait for it – a cebok – you got me right, a local term for a bucket of river water and a scoop to rinse yourself clean of the day’s work. Now that’s what I called living it high by the riverbank! Exactly what I wanted. I know it’s not everyone’s game but if you’re looking to hilt it up here, then I suggest you go back to your cocoon of familiarity as getting all the way up to Bilit, the upriver part of the Kinabatangan, you’ll be hardpressed to ask for room service. But we had wanted to experience as closely as possible to how life goes by here. We still thought we were lucky enough to not have to get down by the riverbank and stand on a platform made from chopped off tree trunks tied together while washing up for the day. I don’t particularly fancy having crocodiles checking out my behind and thinking of dinner… another time folks!
And as I come back to more PG-rated narrative, we got through the bumpy and at times, rollercoaster ride of a small van after two hours. Honestly, nothing spectacular along the way up towards Gomantong Caves, Bukit Garam, en route to Sukau and then finally, Bilit. But getting to our hut was sweet. Surrounded by wild jungle and fronting the river, we got to know our personal guide for the next three days, Said as well as our “mother hen” Weng.
There were other boys around but they did mostly nothing but come over to our common deck where the kitchen was and hung about watching a long series of Filipino old movies (think a tashed up hero that really needed to lose some middle girth (but heaven forbade I even bring that up!) shooting the bad guys and getting home for supper that took the form of his lady friend, gasping orgasmicly in the shower as he “fulfilled” his duty as a gentleman… yawn, I think I had seen this one like when I was stuck in a really bad bar with pink neon lights?) – anyway, I digressed a little, but we were very well taken care by both Said and Weng. The funny thing was when all those B-grade soft porn scenes came up, the boys just “rushed” into the kitchen. Again, I digressed (you would think after having to endure endless runs of these movies for three days and two nights, the reruns of Dallas and Falcon Crest would be box office material) but within an hour of arriving at Senbil, Weng showed us our local companions.
Ladies and gentlemen, please meet the Borneo’s long-tailed macaques or more affectionately called Kera. And they steal! These thieves! Bread by the loaf, rice cooker, beer (they objected towards mineral water), strawberry jam, cola. Weng would made a lot of noise about these recalcitrants but I suspected that he carried a tone of pride like a mum would be as she spoke of her pride and joy. I thought of asking Weng to come clean about the macaques. But decided against it. He was just happy fussing over the monkeys and us. He whipped us enough lunch and dinner portions to feed the herds of elephants that walked through during this season, and I am talking about 70-100 on an average herd size! Weng would carry the dishes on both hands like a Libra sign, chest all puffed out like a gecko and summoned us to come “eat, eat”. He was so hilarious that it was hard to hurt his feelings. So we had to get up from our hammocks… oh well, nothing like being spoilt once in a while.
And I meant it. Really greasy chicken dishes that were yummy. Didn’t matter that I couldn’t see beyond a blob of black sauce but they did the trick. Fried chicken. Fruits. Plenty of water. You know, go with the flow. Weng apologised about not having dessert (I thought secretly he was going to whip up some souffle and I would have not refuse!).
Said on the other hand, was quiet but get him and you’ll be on a ride of your lifetime. He had eye sight that probably would be comparable to an eagle’s, either that or he had grown up eating sacks of carrots. When we tucked in our tea, he whisked us off on a boat upriver. And yes, we’re gaping and ooh-ing at trees of Proboscis monkeys, storks, egrets, macaques, there was even a crocodile (and Borneo hosts the Estuarine Crocodile, the largest of over ten other species in the world), the rhinocerous hornbill, kingfishers that will make Gaultier weep, stunning river sites, beautiful sunset, and our dream – a herd of Pygmy elephants, complete with a bull, plenty of cows and calves! Due to the babies, they didn’t move too fast and would stay on for a few days to graze. Ah yes, there were plenty of tourist boats too – all very competitive and storming up the river – so much for subtlety. But Said was good, and I would say, that would be an understatement. He always could spot things from miles away and that gave us a very good lead. We would have a couple of moments with the engine switched off, and nothing quite like admiring an Orang Utan feeding. Now, how about spotting two separately and close to the banks?
This place was teeming with wildlife. And these were the ones that we were blessed enough to come face-to-face. Those that we could hear, it was difficult to capture in words except the cliché, you just had to be there to experience it. Our first night started with yet another big whip-up from Weng, and then Said took us out for our night trek. Again, think pitch dark. Now multiply that by ten times. With a torch, he navigated gracefully around paths of vines and mud, while yours truly actually was squishing and ploshing around to keep up. Shoving my pride aside, I soldiered on… towards actually getting stucked on my left foot while I leapt courageously ahead with my right (think Gladiator’s grace and spirit – big no for the former, yes for the latter) and fell face forward. My hands were more sorry. I basically continued back with mud baking and drying off, ah the spa experience! All these notwithstanding the amazement when Said pointed out a wild squirrel burrowing inside a tree trunk, a forest mouse (I named him Archie), birds and just birds (they slept, but went a bit blind when we pointed the torch at them, allowing us to get up close – but no, they weren’t hurt at all) snakes, wild deer foot prints, frogs, and yes, we heard the herd too. We couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
Our little chamber was without any blanket. What did two seasoned travellers do? We took off the bedsheet and used it as a replacement. Small adjustments for a return of jungle treks of a myriad of birds’ cries, squirrels, jungle rats, frogs and my mortal enemy – the tiger leech. Get here with leech socks and tobacco, you’ll be fine. I got out without even a bite! That’s like a score for me, a homerun. We had a night of local rice wine while we heard “our” herd of pygmy elephants hanging about behind our hut. Obviously they didn’t like the noise and they came before we got back from our evening river cruise with Weng running out like a festered wife, complaining about the bull throwing off the boat engine (the dry one) and all the water tanks… suspiciously I saw a glint of delight in his eyes.
With our green diamond-headed viper biding us goodbye (our faithful friend by the tree for the last three days), we headed out back to Sandakan on a Isuzu D-Max. I want one now!
After waiting for six hours in the airport en route to bring a surprise Diwali celebration for hubby’s famlies, I thought back about our first night back and having Ah Yong taking us on our run around and how his cab came to a spluttering death – engine oil – and he got us a standby cab friend to split the cost and got us home. He was this hyperactive driver, bad eyesight, funny Cantonese accent, and just hilarious, “you want to go for steamboat? I take you”, “you want to go to Sepilok? I take you”…
I’ll probably take it on another time but now as I recline blissfully with my Diwali-celebrating extended family, Ithink about what lies ahead – diving off the Tun Sakaran Marine Park for the remaining of this month in Sabah.
Can’t believe in the last couple of weeks, so much had happened. Beyond what I could put down in black and white but again, my head is still swarming with warm memories. Funny how and what travel does to you – your head and heart swell with the delight of discovering an Aladdin’s cave of treasures, and you catch yourself sighing away…
“So much to do, so little time”.
