Jaded Travels

Laos 4 : A town called Phonsavanh

2009-04-13T19:27:00.047+08:00

Monks filing pass in their vermilion robes to collect alms for the day and cute little kids clutching their books and lunch tiffins scampering to school makes up the morning scene.

It’s seven in the morning and the air was still crisp with a slight chill. The mists was clearing and the sun was making its way up, saturating the sky with an orange hue, lending an ethereal feel to a town that is otherwise stark and dusty.

There is nothing elegant, no saving beauty to the town, just plain ugly brick buildings and wooden shacks sandwiched in between them. The buildings are plastered with sign –boards, advertisements for guesthouses and local tours. Every time a vehicle passed by, a cloud of choking dust swirls up.

Phonsavanh was built in the 1970s to replace the old capital of Xieng Khouang province which was destroyed during the civil war. It has the feel of a Western frontier town, except the setting is in South East Asia and fast forward the time period to 1970s. Replace the clapboard buildings with brick buildings, horse carts with tuk tuks and prospecting for gold with luring tourists’ dollars and there you have it, an Asian frontier town.

Phonsavanh is way out east from the popular tourist trail of Vientiane – Vang Vieng – Luang Prabang. The main reason why tourists would hit this town is because it is a gateway to the Plain of Jars.(more on that later) To get to the Plain of Jars sites, you will have to book with a local tour agent. The tuks tuks are not allowed to bring tourists to the Jar sites.

If you haven’t arranged for a tour out of town for the day, you’ll probably find yourself twiddling thumbs. There isn’t a whole lot to do in the town itself. So, you should not miss a trip to the local market. They sell every kind of food from dry groceries and cooked food to fresh vegetables and fruits. Also on sale are things you’d probably rather not view as food – like rats, bats and other creatures best left unknown.

There are lots of guesthouses located on the main road in town. If you hit the town early enough, you could easily snag a room. I stayed at Kong Keo Guesthouse, which is located on what was previously an airstrip. The establishment is owned by Kong, a cocky young guy and a very shrewd business man. Kong speaks fluent English, liberally punctuated with cuss words and has his mainly Caucasian audience enthralled by his cock and bull stories. He successfully captured media attention by his flamboyant persona. The place comes highly recommended on the Travelfish site. Some write-ups went as far as to describe him as hotelier extraordinaire. Clever self branding or genuine, I let you be judge of it.

Tip:

Do note that the prices on the Travelfish site is outdated. Best call the guesthouses directly to get latest price.

Laos 3 : The Long Road to Xieng Khuoang

2009-03-30T15:51:00.015+08:00

"Are we there yet?”

That must the thousandth time I've asked that question.

We’ve bumped along in the bus for more then 10 hours since leaving Vientiane. The bus had broken down a total of five times. Each time the driver and the conductor had managed to cobble something together and coaxed the old beast to move a few more kilometers before it protested with a cough and splutter, spewing evil smoke plumes in its wake.

The passengers were remarkably tolerant and patient, perhaps resigned even. Bus breakdowns were a common occurrence in Laos. Not surprising as most of the local buses looked as though they were held together by little more than rubber band and glue. Hardly able to withstand the rigours of travelling on the mountain roads.

The fifth breakdown was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. Mr Bus Driver gave up trying to fix it. By then, dusk was upon us and darkness was beginning to shroud the countryside. No knights in shining armour charged to the rescue but the bus driver from the bus that was trailing behind offered a ride. That will do! Thank you God! I don’t relish squatting by the lonely country road for hours waiting for help to arrive.

“Xieng Khouang?” I asked the Laotian girl sitting next to me. The last thing I’d want was to get into a bus heading towards the wrong town! Vigorous nods assured me. Before long I felt a nudge at my side, ‘lift up your hands’ she indicated. I obediently raised my hand. The conductor was counting the number of passengers headed for Xieng Khouang, the province where Phonsavanh is located.

The bus we boarded plies the Vang Vieng – Luang Prabang route, and Xieng Khouang wasn’t exactly ‘on the way’. I had no idea how long a detour that would entail for the Luang Prabang bound passengers, was just grateful they consented to pick us up.

There was no moon that night, the darkness was engulfing, cut only by the beam of the headlights. For the next 3 hours, I held on tight as the bus zig zigged around the hairpin curves of the narrow mountain road, trying to make up for lost time. It was a stomach clenching, gut roiling kind of ride, one misjudgment and down the ravine we all tumble! Oh joy.

At last! At about 8pm, the bus swung into the bus terminal for the Xieng Khouang province. My relief was palpable when I stumbled out of the bus. We had travel for thirteen hours from Vientiane. My longest bus journey to date and I don’t care to beat that record anytime in the near future.

Next up, Phonsavanh and the Mysterious Jars...

Tip:
* Board the bus heading towards Xieng Khouang from the Northern Bus Terminal in Vientiane. LaoMiao's blog has good information on bus schedule.
* We were told to purchase the bus tickets on the day of travel, just turn up at least an hour earlier at the bus terminal to secure your tickets. But if you are there during the holiday period, you should check to see if you can buy the tickets ahead of time.

Laos 2 : Vientiane, Old World Charm New World Prices

2009-03-29T15:15:00.036+08:00

“This place is like Taiping (a small town in Malaysia) 20 years ago” my travel companion remarked.

Indeed, Vientiane seems to be a city time forgot. It has the languid atmosphere of a provincial town rather then the hustle bustle one would associate with a capital city. Pre-war style shop houses line the main roads and French colonial buildings co-exist with rustic Wats and Buddhist inspired buildings.

Patuxai, the iconic landmark in Vientiane

At 2.30pm, the streets were deserted except for foreigners like us crazy enough to brave the searing heat. We were driven out to the streets by our empty bellies to seek repast. Marching up and down Setthathirath Road and after peering at menu prices of the various restaurants and cafes, we settled for Blue Sky Café. 57,000 kip (USD6.80) for 2 plates of fried rice wasn’t provincial prices but definitely more affordable than some of the other restaurants we’ve passed by.

Vientiane has no lack of places to eat, provided you have the moolah. Due to its French colonial heritage, there are plenty of restaurants offering French cuisine, but be prepared to splurge.

Since lunch was rather meager, we decided to spring for dinner at Kua Lao, the restaurant recommended by our guesthouse receptionist for traditional Laotian food. Spurning the sampler set dinner; we ordered ala carte from the menu and ended up with this.

Looks familiar? Pandan chicken, otak otak, pork sausages and some sort of coconut milk based stew. We ended up paying USD26 for a meal that could be had for a fraction of the price at a Thai restaurant back in Kuala Lumpur. But never mind, the dinner comes with a side of traditional Laos performance.

(In-house band, they weren't exactly rocking =.=)

It is possible to get around the city under your own steam, either via bus 11 (on foot) or on bicycles. Bicycle rental cost only 40,000 kip a day. It is a cheap mode of transportation which many tourists choose. Unfortunately they have to settle for whatever vehicle is available at the rental shop. To our amusement, we saw a huge strapping man peddling a kiddie's pink bicycle, like a clown at the circus.

Vientiane is virtually traffic free, there aren't many cars on the street, especially on a hot searing afternoon when we were about. Of course you can find the ever present tuk tuks lurking at street corners where tourists frequent. On hot lazy afternoons, the drivers even string up hammocks to sleep in their tuk tuks while waiting for customers.

We hired a tuk tuk to get to the Northern Bus Terminal to purchase our onward journey bus tickets to Xieng Khoung. The 2km journey cost 40,000 kip (USD4.80) which we subsequently bargained to 30,000kip. Cost is equivalent to a taxi ride in Malaysia.

For all its backwater appearance, Vientiane has no lack of accommodation to suit all budgets. Most of the hotels, guesthouses and hostels are congregated near the river front, Fa Ngam Road and Nokeo Khoumane Road. Not many of them have email booking facilities though, your best bet is to phone in or fax. We picked Lani Guesthouse, a quiet guesthouse tucked in a cul de sac off Setthathirath Road. Mid range price, USD25+10% for a single room or USD35+10% for a double twin bedroom. The place was clean and neat, a stone's throw away from the main street. So no complaints there.

Tip:

* Ask for the price before you hop into a tuk tuk. You can try negotiating for a slightly lower fare.
* Lani Guesthouse http://www.laniguesthouse.com/

Laos 1 : Overland to Laos

2009-03-28T17:27:00.005+08:00

The train pulled away from the Bangkok Hualampong station sharp at 8pm sharp as scheduled. I’m on board train #69, north bound for Nong Khai at the border of Thailand and Laos. Wheeee!!! It’s been a long time since I took a train ride and my first on an overnight sleeper. I was excited to be on my way to Laos.
The Thai trains are very comfortable, for 758THB (USD21.70), you get a seat on the air-conditioned second class carriage. The train has a washbasin and a toilet for use in every carriage. The train stewards transform the seats into beds at night with clean bed-sheet and blanket. I fell asleep that night lulled by the rocking of the train while it chugs on, bearing me 615 kilometers across the country to Nong Khai.
Dawn could not come soon enough. I was eager to be up and about as the enclosed top bunk has no window and left me feeling slightly claustrophobic.The scheduled arrival at Nong Khai was 8.25am, but the train, delayed for 3 hours eventually arrived at Nong Khai at 11.30am.

Stepping out from the Nong Khai train station, a phalanx of tuk tuks with their drivers were waiting for fresh meat. After much haggling, we secured a tuk tuk for 50THB (USD1.50) to take us to the Thai immigration at the Friendship Bridge. The official price we found out much later was 40THB per tuk tuk. From the Thai immigration, we caught the local bus for 30THB each to take us across the Friendship Bridge to the Laos immigration. My travel buddy and I breezed through the immigration because most of the foreigners were delayed applying for their entry visa.

From the Lao immigration, it is another 22 km into the city of Vientiane. Tuk tuk from the immigration cost 200THB for the trip into town.

Such convoluted travel arrangements will be a thing of the past from March 2009 onwards. The Bangkok-NongKhai railway has been extended across the Friendship Bridge into the new railway station at Tha Naleng, Laos and is due to open on 5th March 2009.

Tip:

Seat61 is an excellent site for information on travel by rail. Check Thai Railway train schedule and online reservation.

Do not use services of agents to get a Laos Visa. You can apply for a 30day visa on arrival at the Laotian immigration. If you are a passport holder from any ASEAN country, no visa is required for a 15 day entry into Laos. The retire-asia.com site provides information on Lao visa application.

Thrills and spills at Duck River

2008-07-07T17:24:00.004+08:00

"Boom boom .... boom boom...." No, we weren't at the artillery range, nor were we in the line of canon fire. That was our guide yelling at us to crouch low in the raft as we hit the rapids at Sungai Itek (Duck River). Phew! Cleared the highest class rapids along Sungai Itek with all occupants still on board. " Gimme a five everyone!" our guide said and we jubilantly raised our paddles to hit it together in the air before clumsily smacking it back into the water.

It was only a class 3 rapid, on a grading of between classes 1 to 6 rapids, it is but a mere nursery playground for hard core thrill seekers. But enough to get adrenaline pumping for city folks like us whose thrill of the week is cutting off the next driver on the highway.

Instead of another typical weekend of errands and church, a bunch of us city dorks decided to seek adventure at Sungai Itek. Amy of the RATS (the white water rafting operator, not the rodent) took us through the safety briefing which covers paddling commands - forward paddle, backward paddle, to the left, to the right, on the job and my favourite ..... boom boom. We were taught the right way to hold the paddle and how not to hold the paddle lest you hit someone and capsize drills - what to do when you fall into the river. Pay attention to instructions on how to body raft we were told. "Draw up your knees and keep your feet together, otherwise its bye bye to Father's Day guys" said one of the guides.

With the safety briefing and demonstrations over, it was soon time to buckle up the life jacket and hit the water. Woohoo! We headed to the starting point at the backyard of My Gopeng Resort.

"Into the river everyone, body raft past the rock and then swim to the left bank." Darn, there goes my notion that we will be gently lowered into the raft as I peered over the raging river. One by one we had to jump into the river and body raft past the swirling eddy around the rock to get to calmer waters where the raft and the rest of the team of guides were waiting for us.

We clambered on board the raft and soon our coordination or lack of was apparent. "Forward paddle" our instructor barked. Chaos ensued. "Hah? forward ah?" Er..... which way ar?". "Eh... not like that lah.... forward lah, not backward", "Oi, watch your paddle, you nearly hit my face with it" We paddled in six different directions like a group of drunken sailors as our raft careened crazily around. Finally, we managed to get into some sort of coordinated rhythm and made progress down river.

The RATS had a safety raft that went ahead of us and stationed themselves at capsize prone areas, at the ready with a throw bag to fish us out should we tumble in. And tumble in we did, despite our best efforts to stay in the raft. One of our crew fell into the river and during efforts to pull him back on board, the raft tipped over at the rapids and spilled its guts into the swirling waters. Mercifully, I managed to quickly kick up and break surface, all the while trying to remember instructions to keep my body in the right position. The water was not deep but the swift current swept me down stream. I was bobbing downstream like a cork until help came to stop me from floating further down river. My posterior was sore from bumping and grazing the rocks.

Despite the thrills and spills, which were all part and parcel of enjoying the white water experience, Sungai Itek is well suited for beginners. There are 9 major rapids between classes 1-3. Apart from those adrenaline pumping moments, the rest of the trip was a pleasant and uneventful ride. In between paying attention to instructions that our guide barked out, we slacked off and sat back to enjoy the idyllic surroundings as we floated down river. Wild durian trees laden with fruits dotted the river banks and had us salivating. Unfortunately the fruits were not ripe for picking yet. Shucks!

Three hours and 12 km later, we arrived at the Kampung Jahang ending point and waited for the lorry to transport us back to My Gopeng Resort where we were staying for the night. I was rather sorry for the adventure to come to an end.

Next up.... shooting class 4 and 5 rapids at Sungai Selangor. Anyone game for it?

Chilling out at Chilling Falls

2008-04-14T00:01:00.016+08:00

I heard the thunderous roar of the waterfalls from afar. The sound of the waterfalls was music to my ears. After an hour of tramping up and down the trail through the damp forest of dense bushes and tall ferns, scrambling over fallen tree trunks, sloshing through the water logged footpath of sand and pebbles, got nearly swept away by the swift river current; I finally arrived. And my! The sight that greeted me at the end of the trail was well worth the effort of the hike. So, there I was, at Chilling Falls on Federal Territory Day, 1 Feb, 08; soaking in, (literally), the beautiful scene of a wall of water gushing down the 20 meter cliff.

Not exactly a relaxing way to spend a public holiday, mind you. But it sure beats hanging out at the nearest coffee joint for overpriced caffeine shots, trawling the shopping malls with 6.9 million other KLites or hiding at home and slumber. (hmm…. the last option does sound good when you are in the thick of the trail; wet, foot sore and hungry) Anyway, I was glad I got off my ‘cityfied’ rear that day and joined B and his posse for the day at Chilling Falls.

The breathtakingly beautiful vertical falls along the Chilling River makes up The Chilling Falls. Waterfalls of Malaysia cite it as the most beautiful waterfalls in Selangor. Fresh air, icy cold water, soothing forest greens can be found just barely an hour and a half away from the city of Kuala Lumpur and yet it seemed a world apart.

The Chilling River is located between Kuala Kubu Baru and Fraser’s Hill. Pass the sleepy hollow of Kuala Kubu Baru and drive on the road that wind along the newly completed Selangor Dam. When you reach the concrete bridge over Chilling River, look out for a place to park your car. Then walk up to the barrier with an overhead signboard 'Sanktuari Sungai Chilling' (Chilling River Sanctuary) Go past the barrier to find an open site for camping complete with shelters and public amenities; toilets and shower rooms.

Chilling River is a fish sanctuary under the protection of Jabatan Perikanaan (Fisheries Department). The place is clean and well maintained and the river is filled with schools of fishes that thrived in the protected environment. It is heartening to see conservation effort, when we hear so much of ravages to the environment in the name of development.

There are five river crossings in total before reaching the first fall. The first river crossing is a piece of cake, just walk over the hanging suspension bridge. After the bridge, there is a narrow trail that cuts through thick bushes and tall ferns. Watch out for the stinging nettles and the whiplash from the branches, especially if you are walking behind someone. Most times I kept my head down and held both my hands up to protect my face. The trail runs parallel to the river and it is sandy, muddy and wet; a haven for leeches. Did someone mention leeches? Eeks! Keep moving so that those critters won’t be able to latch on to you for a meal.

Overall, it was a fairly easy trek. Where the trail ends, we had to cross the river, it was waist deep (for me). Beware when wading across the river, the rocks on the riverbed are smooth and slippery, with the swift river current you can easily lose your footing and get sucked downstream.

I was swept off my feet and had my maiden dunking at the second river crossing. My trusty old Nokia 8210 went down with me and both of us were none the worse for wear after drying out in the sun. (Another point that makes me a loyal Nokia user) Oh, and be sure to bring a towel and extra change of clothing in a waterproof bag, unless you don’t mind wet clothes sticking to your skin on the journey home.

After about an hour of trekking and river crossings, we were rewarded by the magnificent sight of the lower waterfall. There are stretches of sand banks that made it perfect for a picnic spot. We stopped to take some pictures and a cooling dip in the icy cold water. But decided to move up higher to the next fall when the crowd began to fill in.

Climbing the steep trail for another 15 minutes, we caught sight of a fall that was splendid but not accessible. I tried to maneuver around a better angle for a shot of the waterfall. But the best shot I could take had a tree smack in the middle of the picture. I had to be satisfied with that since the edge of the trail falls off into a ravine, one misstep and it’s sayonara baby.

We climbed higher and reached the upper falls. Ah, no other human around, we claimed the place and decided to set camp on the flat rocks. The river current at the upper falls was swifter and we had to gingerly make our way around the rocks.
Make sure you secure your belongings high on the rocks out of reach of the swirling water. One of my fake Crocs fell victim to the river. Luckily P had brought extra slippers and loaned it to me. Otherwise I would have to hike back with one foot bare. A word of advice - do not go waterfall trekking in your expensive Nike trainers or genuine Crocs unless you don’t mind getting it wet and muddy or losing it to the river.

There is a pool at the base of the fall that is clam and clear; we swam around for a while with the fishes. For a natural Jacuzzi experience, sit behind the rocks where the water gush by and let it soothe aching muscles and tensions.

We ate our packed chicken rice lunch in companionable silence, perched on the rocks with toes trailing in the icy water. Listening to the roar of the waterfall and the gushing river, watching birds swoop over head and butterflies flit by. It was by far the best lunch break I’ve had in ages. B later boiled some river water in a Billy can and made us coffee to finish off the meal. Heaven!

Two hours of lazing in the sun and splashing in the water later, we were driven to pack up when the skies darken and the rain clouds loomed above. If it rains, the river could swell to dangerous levels and the swift currents makes it impassible, not to mention flash floods that could happen. So we made haste and hiked back downstream.

The return journey took only 45 minutes as we practically ran to beat the rain clouds. Fat drops of rain fell on us just after we waded across the second last river crossing. Phew! It was home run all the way from there.

Chilled and soaked to the bone, we changed out into dry clothing and then made our way home to the city. It was an invigorating day out in the sunshine and rain, admiring at close quarters God’s beautiful creation.

Wondering what to do on your next day off? Kick off your city duds and go chill out at Chilling.

Tangoing Underwater

2007-06-25T13:36:00.003+08:00

Pulau Tenggol 18-20th May 2007

Which island did you say you were going? Pulau Tango? That is the gist of the reaction I get when I told my family and friends that I was making a trip to Pulau Tenggol. It’s been nine months since I earned my PADI Open Water license and I was itching to put it into use. So when my diving enthusiast friend Nigel invited me to join his buddies for a diving trip at Pulau Tenggol, I went along.

Largely undiscovered by mainstream tourists, Pulau Tenggol remains a well kept secret amongst the diving community. The island is fringed with a stretch of white sandy beach on the western coast and thickly forested rocky terrain further inland. Uninhabited, save for three modest resorts fronting the beach at Teluk Air Tawar, the island has managed to keep its pristine condition thus far, unsullied by commercial tourism.

Pulau Tenggol apparently got its name from the Malay word ‘tenggek’ which means to squat or crouch. The local dialect pronounce it as ‘tenggol’. From afar it is said that the island looks like someone crouching, although for the life of me I can’t see the resemblance.

The moment we stepped off the boat, our feet sank into the soft fine sand. Giant umbrella trees that line the front of resort provide respite from the searing heat of the sun. We stayed at the Pulau Tenggol Island Resort, operated by the affable Paul Wong. Accommodations, simple at best if not spartan, consist of wooden chalets and dormitory. Hot water and air-conditioning is available, but don’t come here if you are looking to spend your vacation cosseted in creature comforts. The sundeck where we take our meals makes up for the lack in sleeping quarters. The view from the deck is spectacular. Enjoy the view of silver shimmers of sunlight relected on the clear azure sea, feel the gentle sea breeze on your face and let the sound of the waves crashing to shore lull you into a lethargic nap. Surely we have experienced here a piece of paradise.

As above waters, Tenggol is a paradise beneath the waters too. Cited as the ‘Best Diving in Peninsular Malaysia’ by Asian Diver Magazine, it was easy to see how Pulau Tenggol earned its accolade. The rocky terrain of the islands extends into the sea; this forms an underwater topography that ranges from shallow reefs to large rocky outcrop, boulders and narrow passage ways that sustains rich coral life. Diving in the waters of Tenggol is like stepping off into another world. God surely must have had fun creating this undersea treasure trove. The stroke of the Master's brush is seen in the amazing kaleidoscope of colourful corals and marine life that made its home amongst the boulders, rocks, caves and sea bottom.

My first dive at Turtle Point was a checkout dive, necessary for newbies like me to reacquaint myself to the equipment set up and the rules of diving. I was all thumbs and fingers when it came to setting up my dive equipment and suiting up. This was after all my first post certification dive. I am sure my fellow divers gave me a wide berth as I struggled and made a most ungraceful descent underwater. Perhaps they should consider tagging air tanks with a ‘P’ for newly qualified divers.

Turtle Point is located at the sheltered Air Tawar Bay. The site gently slopes down to a depth of 20 meters at the maximum and is ideal for beginners. I was too busy getting my buoyancy control right and getting used to the BCD to notice much of the under sea creatures on this dive. The ill fitting wet suit I wore was a nuisance. I ditched it and just wore the long sleeved rash guard and shorts for my remaining dives.

On the first day, we covered 2 dives, in addition to the check out dive at Turtle Point, we dived at Teluk Rajawali. This dive site is termed as an ‘easy Sunday afternoon dive’. Being a novice, it was not exactly a walk in the park or a swim in the pool for me but its ok, I could handle it.

Early the next day, after breakfast, we headed for Tokong Talang about 30 minutes away by boat. Tokong Talang is a stack of granite boulders with the top few metres peeking out of the water surface. Drifts and currents are expected at this site. “Keep close to the wall on your left everyone. Nigel, deploy your sausage when I give you the signal” instructs Pam our dive master. “I wish you won’t keep saying that Pam” sighs Nigel. Lest it be interpreted out of context, a sausage is a bright orange bouy that extends 2 metres tall when inflated. Divers use it to mark the spot where they are expected to surface. What did you think it was ? Tsk!

We descended and circled the rock. There was strong undersea current that day and I had to fight to swim close to the wall and keep up with my buddies. The current could easily sweep a diver out to the open sea if caught in its eddy. We hit a thermocline near the bottom and I shivered in my long sleeved rash guard and shorts. Although the many narrow passage ways, caves and rock crevices is host to teeming marine life, visibility was too poor for me to take particular note of its inhabitants. I was more anxious about not falling back and losing the group. So intent I was on swimming close to the heels of the diver ahead of me, I didn’t notice Pam’s warning on the trigger fish. Fortunately, it wasn’t aggressive. Nesting trigger fish has been known to attack divers who swim too close.

In the afternoon, we attempted to dive at Clerks Pinnacle but had to abort when choppy waters separated the group. It is also there that I first experienced being left behind in the open sea. Strong surface current forced my diving buddies to descend before I could stride into the water, but I had trouble descending again and could not follow them underwater. For a while I swam keeping pace, but soon they descended beyond my line of vision. Left with no other choice but to surface, I bobbed around for a few minutes but could not see the boat, only the wide expanse of the deep blue. Quelling the rising panic, I forced myself to remain calm. Phew! Fortunately, the boat man sighted my distress signal and putted over to fish me out. Ten minutes later, the rest of the group surfaced. Initially I felt guilty at causing the aborted dive but apparently the group separated underwater and could not locate the dive site due to the strong currents and poor visibility. We then decided to move on to another site, Tokong Timur. All’s well that ends well, but it is not an experience I’d like to repeat any time soon... correction, at all.

Tokong Timur lies further south east of the pinnacle. We made our descent between the two exposed boulders, where current is weakest. As with the earlier dive, this is also a drift dive. We slowly circled the rock and were treated to a tour of the beautiful underwater landscape. This site is abundant in fishes, I encountered schools of fusiliers swimming by in a silver and yellow mass, crimson soldier fishes with their blood shot eyes looking as though they are perpetually missing a good night’s sleep, small damsel fishes darting amongst the corals, colourful parrot fishes busy crunching and spitting out corals after they’ve eaten the goodies (the algae in the corals).

After lunch and a short rest, we headed out to the Coral Garden. With a maximum depth of only 18 metres and little or no current, the Coral Garden was a relatively easy dive. Just as well. After our little morning adventure, I wasn’t seeking excitement. The Coral Garden lives up to its moniker. An undersea garden of eden, it is filled with colourful soft corals, Christmas tree worms, sponges, sea anemones and a variety of nudibranches. I was busy rooting amongst the rock surface looking for nudibranches when a warning tap on my tank caused me to turn around. And what a sight to behold! A shoal of yellow tailed barracudas passed right in front of me. I remained transfixed at the sight, hardly daring to breathe. They were so close, if I had reached out, I could have touched them, but I value my hand attached to my wrist and refrained. Other notable sightings on the site, bright blue starfishes draped over the corals and littered the sandy bottom, giant 2 foot clams wedged steadfastly between rocks, Teira batfishes with their huge fins swimming by.

Later in the day, at the Gua Rajawali site, we spotted a pair of green sea turtles mating, or attempting to mate, because the oogling divers and flash of the cameras caused the shyer of the pair to swim away. I could have sworn the remaining partner gave us a baleful glare - ‘Geez, couldn’t you guys give us some privacy here?’

There are in total more than 20 dive sites in the waters around Pulau Tenggol. We managed to dive at six different spots, Turtle Point, Teluk Rajawali, Tokong Talang, Tokong Timur, Coral Garden, Gua Rajawali. Those with advance certification crammed in a night dive as well.

Pulau Tenggol remains for now, an idyllic getaway for those seeking the simple island life. You don’t even have to be a diver to enjoy Pulau Tenggol’s underwater treasures. Just merely snorkeling around the bay yields great finds in corals, fishes and turtles. You may even be lucky enough to spot a black tip reef shark or two. The quiet sojourn to the island is a panacea for the stress filled soul. Selfishly I want the island to remain ‘undiscovered’.

Photos courtesy of Nigel Wong

To view the underwater wonders, check out the photo gallery at http://www.pulautenggol.com/

Conquering the Mighty Kinabalu

2007-02-11T14:05:00.005+08:00

20 January 2007

"Whose harebrained idea was it to climb Mount Kinabalu?” I muttered while clinging on for dear life on a rope and trying to haul my sorry ass up the steep incline. Darn, it was my choice to tag along. Sigh.... why can’t I be content with lazing on the beach and taking a stroll in the park?

I was up since 2am, after a fitful 3 hour sleep the night before. The rest house at Laban Rata was a hive of activity in the wee hours of the morning as climbers prepare for the Summit Climb. It’s a 2.7km hike to the summit and climbers start out early in order to get to the peak for the sunrise. We kitted up in warm clothing and fortified ourselves with hot Milo. At 2.45am, after a climbing brief from our guide, we were good to go. The temperature was 8 degree Celsius, not too cold. It was dry with clear skies; perfect climbing condition. Still, I stepped out into the chilly darkness with trepidation of the climb ahead.
We climbed up in single file up a short rocky path to get past the Gunting Lagadan and Panar Laban Huts. After which the trail leads to a long steep flight of rickety steps. We tramped on silently in the inky darkness with only our headlamp illuminating the step ahead of us. On hindsight, it was a good thing, for surely if we had been able to see the climb ahead; many a faint hearted would have turned back, including, yours truly.

Fifteen minutes into the climb and I was already sweating buckets and gasping for breath. Fitter and more able climbers passed me by as I laboured my way up. This isn’t looking good, I told myself, I was seriously questioning my ability to make it to the summit. The first half hour was difficult as my body struggled to adjust to the thin air and the fatigue that set in. After that, I settled into a mind numbing routine of putting one foot in front of another and shuffling along. We managed to reach the checkpoint at the Sayat Sayat Hut within the targeted time. The prospect of getting to the summit in time for the sunrise was looking good, declared Hali, our guide. Park regulations require that all climbers register and produce the climbing pass at the checkpoint before proceeding and likewise on our way down.

Beyond the Sayat Sayat Hut, there is scant vegetation; rocky granite surface stretches out as far as the eye can see. Ropes are anchored into the granite to aid climbers. At some stretches, the incline is at a 70 degree angle to the mountain. With no vegetation to shield, chilly gusts of wind bore down on us and the cold began to seep into our bones. We allowed ourselves only a short rest at Sayat Sayat. Ernest forged ahead while we girls hung back with Hali our guide. It is another 1.3km hike to the summit from the checkpoint, an eternity to my befuddled brain. The thin air was making me a little light headed and images of my warm comfy bed crossed my mind, I just wanted to lie down and never ever have to get up again. Soon, I was visibly lagging behind the rest. Hali took me by the hand and literally dragged me up the second half of the climb. “See the light over there? That’s only 100m ahead, let’s trek up there and we can rest,” he tried to motivate me. I trudged on resolutely cheered by the prospect of a rest, only to find out that it was a moving target. “Tipu! Lampu ‘tu bergerak!” (Liar, the lamp is a moving target!) I cried.

For the last leg of the climb, we had to scramble and haul ourselves up over boulders. Finally, we reached Low’s Peak at 6.25am. Low's Peak at 4,095m, is the highest summit of the mighty Kinabalu. At the very top, it is no more than a pile of rocks on a narrow strip of plateau. It was an anticlimax of sorts for me. By the time I got there, I was so tired that nothing interest me beyond finding a place to park my posterior and getting off my aching legs. That is, until I looked up and saw a band of deepening amber at the horizon lighting up the skies. Puffs of mists swirled and flitted amongst the various peaks rising up at different heights. On the west side of the peak, the valley stretches out in a patchwork of green for miles. I stood and gaped in awe of the splendour of God’s wondrous creation, tiredness forgotten.
"Ah.... since you've made it to the top, the next time will be easier for you" our guide jolted me out of my reverie. Next time? You gotta be kidding! Well.... maybe. Ask me again when memories of aching limb and tired muscles have faded.