Borneo, Day 6: a piece of history I didn’t really know.

This mountain is growing at a rate of 5mm per year. We watched it grow while we ate breakfast,

Sarah is a bit of a Sandakan Death March buff. She’s read many books about it and when she was training for this job, she went on a hike along part of the trail. This, of course, makes her commentary very interesting.

We made an unscheduled stop to see Ranau Camp number 1, which is where the Australian soldiers stopped along the way during the death marches after leaving Sandakan. This wasn’t the end of the actual march, though for many men , it was for them. The actual trail still had 13kms to go.

Those poor men. Even today, the undergrowth is so thick.

I’m writing thisart of the post after leaving the memorial.

It was very moving. The gallery had helmets, revolvers, etc, but there were also some personal items found after the war. There was a ring. As the guy lost weight, he wrapped paper around his finger underneath the ring to keep it on his finger. It must have been important to him.

The most poignant thing of all was a voice recording by the survivors.

“Once, we were lucky enough to kill a dog. A Jap soldier found us and made us bury the dog so we couldn’t eat him. Later that night, we snuck back and dug him up.

A few days later, we saw dogs eating the bodies of dead soldiers. Well, that was it. No more eating dog for us.”

“We were wading through mud, waist deep in mud, carrying the rice bags. We knew that if we fell and broke a leg, the Japs would shoot us straight away.”

“At first the camp was overcrowded, but soon enough, men started dying. You’d wake up in the morning and look to one side to see if the man beside you had died in the night. If he had, that meant more room for you. You’d see if he owned anything that’d be of use to you, and then you’d look on the other side.”

“You could feel yourself dying. When you woke up in the morning, you’d be surprised.”

This memorial is placed where Gunner Albert Cleary was tied to a tree for 8 days after escaping for a second time. His mate was shot straight away, but he was kept tied to the tree, enduring starvation and up to 30 beatings a day. When it was obvious that he was close to death, the Japanese allowed his friends to cut him down, wash him and tend to him. He gave them one last smile and died in their arms.

Here he is, with his friend who had the more merciful death.

I took photos of a 12 page letter that a guy wrote to his p

family after the liberation of Changi in 1944. If anyone is interested in reading it, shoot me a comment and I’ll send it to you.

This was a profoundly moving experience. We were never taught about this when I was at school. To think that we never knew about the worst atrocity to be committed against our own countrymen is astonishing.

Then we moved on to – guess what? Another war memorial.
We were all starting to wish we were back in the jungle.

The first thing we saw was a video of Jana Wendy – remember her? – hosting a do o about 6 soldiers retracing the steps of the soldiers on the Sandakan death marches. Even though they were all fit and well fed, with a good nights sleep every night, they all found it gruelling, with one having to be medivacced out to be put on a drip for a while.

I have to say, I was disappointed with this place. Its selling point is that it has 4 gardens: Australian, British, Borneo and Contemplation. The last one was where all of the names of the 2,400 soldiers who died are written. The last one was the best one. All of the other ones were pretty poor.

Considering the climate, these gardens should be lush. Instead, the Australian garden was full of hydrangeas in pots, the British had roses in pots, while the Borneo one wasn’t much better.

I walked quickly through and went to the contemplation garden.

This garden profoundly affected me.

At first it was the sheer number of names on the wall. There were 29 boards in all, with nearly 100 names on each. The sheer volume was too much to take in.

Then Peta walked by and pointed out that brothers were mentioned as well. She was right. There were many brothers. A couple of pairs of twins. Their poor mothers.

Then I started to take note of the ages. I was expecting 18, 19, 20, but what I was seeing were ages more in line with my boys’ ages. I started picturing them in a situation like this and trying to imagine how they would cope. It made me a bit teary.

Not as bad as being in the Anne Frank house in Amsterdam, when my chin got the wobbles, but I had to blink very hard to stop the tears. )

We then wandered over to the fruit and vegetable market. It was SO CLEAN, especially after the markets in Vietnam and Zanzibar.

Kinabalu National Park Botanical Garden.

This was a definite change of pace. We ambled around the paths of the Gardens, while Sarah pointed out various plants and birds to us.

Was I bored? Not quite, but if it had gone on for too much longer I might have been. Still, other people in the group were in their element, so that was nice to see.

Pink Maiden. The fruit tastes like blueberries.

Naked Tree. It regularly sheds its bark to stop the moss from growing on it.

You can drink water from this vine if you cut it. “But if the liquid is cloudy, don’t drink. It’ll make you sick.” Good to know.

Jewel orchid. Very popular with the Japanese. They come here to study it.

Pitcher plants. Famously carnivorous. They have 13 species in this garden. It attracts insects by its sweet nectar.

In Sumatra, orangutans have been observed drinking water from the pitcher plant, but so far in Borneo, this behaviour hasn’t been seen.

Laughing Orchid. It’s like a little boy sticking out his tongue.

Kerosene Tree. The inside of the fruit can be used to start a fire.

Wild begonia.

Lego orchid.

Corkscrew vine. I liked this one, so sculptural.

We saw quite a few orchids, but I’m clearly hopeless at taking pictures of them.

Then we wandered around a market full of bags, sarongs and other tatt. I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t bought a Christmas tree ornament from Borneo, so here it is:

A proboscis monkey keychain. Perfect!

When we got back to the hotel, I met up with the people I was marooned with on the boat… did I mention that for a while there, they were calling me ‘lunch’? 😂 … and we went up to the rooftop bar. It was happy hour, and for once, we found reasonably priced wine in Asia.
I ended up having 3 glasses of Cab Sav and a couple of muesli bars back in my room for dinner. It was a fun night, though.

Dad joke of the day: