Category: FIRE as a single. (Page 7 of 18)

This morning, after a quick detour for coffee,breakfast ( for the others – I had another  Frogdancer’s Sad Breakfast), and a quick stop at the supermarket to buy lunches, we jumped in the car and started heading out in search of waterfalls. It turns out that Morgan loves waterfalls, so seeing as he designed this little Iceland pre-tour for us, we’ll be seeing a lot of water affected by gravity. 

This one was what he described as “ a nice enough little thing.” We had to clamber down an embankment with slippery stones, where I slipped and grazed my leg. Needless to say, I courageously carried on.

There was also a little stream to cross, but the waterfall was worth it. Here are the other 3 in front of it.

We headed off again. “I love to drive in Iceland,” said Morgan. “ You can point the car anywhere and it’s always beautiful.”

I can see what he means.

An hour’s drive later, we arrived at Morgan’s favourite waterfall. Unfortunately, it was a 3 hour hike. My blistered toe wasn’t up for such things, as well as my lifelong avoidance of bush walking, so I looked at the map and decided to go as far as the cave. 

1.2 kms each way was quite enough for me! They walked to number 6 on the map, while I walked to number 2.

It was enjoyable, though I have to admit that I was more than ready to see the cave when it finally appeared. We said our goodbyes, Morgan handed over the car key and, after I videoed them crossing the river further downstream by walking along a log, I turned back.

One thing about Iceland is that there are not a lot of public toilets. I can’t remember the last time I did a bush wee, or as we said in Africa earlier this year… “picked some flowers.” Remember? For guys it was “checking the tyres.” 😂

It was a lovely walk back to the car. There were goats in the area. I heard them bleating as I was almost back at the car park. 

I sat in the car, ate lunch, read a novel and wrote this blog post up to this point. Baptiste promised to take shots of the waterfall so we can all see what I elected to miss.

***

Morgan sent me this one. 😀

We popped into the War and Peace museum for a look around. To be honest, the outside art was better than what was inside.

As soon as we walked in, I did a Queen Mother and ducked into the loo. The guys walked into the main entrance and were told that the museum was closed for the winter, but it was open for a private function that day.

Not being privy to this information, Corinna and I went all over the museum.

It was pretty bad. It was full of fusty old things, with mannequins posing as radio operators and random soldiers. It reminded me of those antique warehouses, with little stalls full of absolute garbage. I was glad that we didn’t pay for admission.

Corinna sampled a few of the desserts from the function. She came back to the car raving about how good they were, and the next thing I know, Baptiste is back in there with her, to sample things for himself.

On the road again. Once you leave the city, Iceland is very empty. There are little houses and churches scattered in the most picturesque places.

Morgan turned up a little dirt road and promised to show us something unique that no other tours have on their itineraries.

And here it is. Corinna and I thought this rock looked like a hand, but the information board likened it to a goblet.

We were getting hungry, so we headed back through the park to get back to the car.

Suddenly hundreds of women clutching Prosecco glasses burst out onto the pathway. They kept coming past us in a constant stream.

” I feel like a salmon!” Baptiste whispered to me. Some of them had empty glasses, others had a gliding stride as they tried to avoid spilling any wine.

James from Ireland/North Korea 2018 had landed. We agreed we’d all meet up for dinner at Morgan’s favourite burger bar. They adjust the numbers here every time someone dies or has a baby.

And now the Iceland crew is complete!

I didn’t post yesterday because James, Baptiste and I had a few drinks that night. James brought some delicious duty free gin with him.
The next morning, all I could think of was coffee…

Dad joke of the day:

Here we are! The Antarctica 2022 crew (almost) all together again. Morgan, Baptiste, Corinna and I. The boys arrived in the middle of the night, while we swung by the airport after lunch and picked up Corinna.

The boys and I met at 9 for breakfast, but unknown to them, I’d already had Frogdancer’s sad breakie, so I joined them in a coffee. We walked to the rental car place, picked up the car we’ll be driving for the next few days, then off we went to the supermarket to pick up lunch. I was relieved that they didn’t want to go to town with lunches – you never know how precious people will be about food.

Then we headed off.

We stopped by a lake for a photo, and this group of bike riders swished by. Just like Beach Road on a Sunday morning!

It was beautiful.

Morgan was saying that outside of the cities, there’s only 1 person per square kilometre here.

Our next stop was a place where there was steam coming out of the ground, with pools of boiling water bubbling away.

It was so strange to think that all of this heat was being generated right under the walkways we were standing on. How could water be boiling hot without a kettle? It was crazy.

You can see the different minerals in the earth by the colours.

As we were driving towards the next thing, Morgan was telling us about how the first thing to grow on top of a lava flow is moss. “It’s very fragile”, he said.
Many of the roads we drove down today were roads that cut through lava flows. Some were old and the moss was busily working on them. Others were very recent and were still pitch black.

Morgan took this one as I was fighting for breath coming up the hill. It was the first of many uphill climbs that day. The top picture of us all was taken from the top of a lighthouse!
See the black in the background of the photo? This was from last year’s lava flow. Morgan, Baptiste and I were heading up to see another recent lava flow.

This one was a couple of years old. Iceland has lots of volcanic activity and the place is covered with lava in various stages of reclamation by nature. This was stark, black and very new.

Later that day, we drove through a town that was almost deserted. A swathe of house s were abandoned, with fences in front of them forbidding entry.

”What happened here?” Corinna asked.

”There was an earthquake, and the houses got damaged,” said Morgan.
First lava, then earthquakes. It’s risky to be a homeowner here!

It’s a strange, otherworldly landscape here sometimes.
“It’s like walking on the moon, “ said Baptiste.

The guys climbed a bit higher, while I turned back and walked down, almost making it back to the car before them. I had to be careful about where I put my right foot. All that walking in Copenhagen gave me a blister so bad that most of the skin had come off one of my toes. I had a bandaid around it today, which helped, but I won’t be going on any long hikes for a few days.

You can see that they’ve had to cut the road right through a lava flow.

I took this from the window as we were driving to pick up Corinna. It’s pretty thick. No wonder this country is one of the most expensive places in the world to live. Such a small population is paying for all these massive roadworks and infrastructure replacements all the time.

Though Morgan has a different theory. “It’s tourists,” he said over dinner. “ I was here in 2023 and every night I would buy a 3 course meal for 30 euros. Now, you can only get one course for that if you’re lucky.”

The lighthouse! Yes, we climbed all the way to the top. When we started, I looked at all of the flights of stairs winding up and thought, “If I could make it to the top of that fort in Japan and that island in Vietnam, I can do this!”
And of course I could.

It was very windy up there. It almost felt like I could be blown off the top. The wind wasn’t so bad earlier in the day, but it soon picked up. It wasn’t at all cold, at least, not for me. Corinna was regretting her choice of clothing that morning. But the wind was a THING.

See my scarf? I wore it on my huge 9 week Uk/Europe trip 10 years ago. And people wonder why other people knit. It’s so satisfying to make something and then have the benefit flow on for years to come.

Then we drove to America.

This is the bridge between continents. The tectonic plates of America and Europe are on either side. Isn’t that cool?

As we were walking back to the car, Morgan pointed out the tiny island out in the sea.

”Bjerknes lived there for a year or two and recorded an album there. She left when a fish told her to move out.

Our next stop was to a place that Morgan said was called “A nice beach.” As the others wandered towards the cliffs, I saw a sculpture of a huge bird. It was a Great Auk, once common here but is now extinct.
Imagine being the last one of your kind, like the Tasmanian Tiger in Adelaide zoo. So lonely.

Here’s Baptiste and I, lords of all we survey!

What a sparkling day!

Though the wind isn’t really kind to flared jeans!

Oops. A little bit askew.

Another drive. We were covering all of the peninsula below Reykjavik.

Can you believe this? It was incredible. The air was thick with sulphur as the steam poured out in an unending flow. We walked right through it on the boardwalk. At one stage, I had to stop as I literally couldn’t see anything at all in front of me.

Morgan caught Corinna emerging from the mist. What a great shot.

We then went to “ another nice beach “ where, if we wanted, we could go for a swim in this little pool beside the sea. In a country full of geothermal swimming pools, this one was not.
We asked Morgan if he was planning to swim there. “Oh no!” he said. “It’s far too cold. But you can, if you like.”
um… no thanks Morgan, all the same! But it was very pretty.

On the way back to Reykjavik we stopped to take a couple of pictures.

Look at how impossibly blue the water is.

We swung by the main church in Reykjavik, with a statue of Leif Ericsson at the front. It’s a very impressive structure, though according to Morgan, they were scammed when they bought the concrete and twenty years after it was built, the never ending restorations began. Sure enough, as we drove up to it, the back end was covered with scaffolding.

It was beautiful inside though. I loved the simplicity. Corinna and Baptiste are feeling the vibe.

It’s a funny thing, but many of the buildings here are corrugated steel. I wouldn’t have thought it would be insulated enough against the cold, but clearly I’m wrong.

Colours!

And to finish the day…

… swans at the edge of the huge lake in the centre of town.

Dad joke of the day:

My last morning in Copenhagen, I went down to breakfast, then went back to my room and lay in bed and read a book. I know, it seems like such a waste, but the night before the girls from the WhatsApp Africa group got chatty. Every time I got to sleep my watch would buzz when a new message came through.

I’d wake with a start each time. Finally, I completely turned off my phone, but by then, like MacBeth, they’d murdered sleep. I needed a lazy morning reading a good book, so I took the chance to get it.

Later, at the airport, I spent serious dough on a new travel bag. Not something I wanted to do, but yesterday, when I was galloping around the streets of Copenhagen, I felt an odd ‘twang’ at my shoulder and this happened:

My Borneo bag didn’t even last for one holiday. I was at the airport and I saw a shop that was “By appointment to Her Majesty The Queen.”

Now, the queen of Denmark is Australian, so I’m sure she wouldn’t steer a fellow Aussie wrong.

The new bag. I’ll let you know how it goes.

It was 14C and sunny when the plane touched down in Reykjavik. I drove into town with a very nice taxi driver from Poland who told me lots about Iceland. Did you know that there’s only 400,000 people who live here?
He also pointed out the lava flows from a year ago. They broke the water pipes of a town nearby and the people had no heat or hot water for 3 weeks in the middle of winter. The government was supplying free electric heaters to keep people alive.

He seemed very nonchalant about the volcanoes. “They happen every year,” he said. “Two years ago the lava nearly covered the Blue Lagoon.”

Oof. I guess you can get used to anything…

I arrived at the place Morgan booked, only to discover that it was unmanned and I didn’t have a way to get in. Bloody Morgan forgot to send me the key code for the door. Fortunate Frogdancer struck again. I frantically messaged him and he was on the way to the airport. If he was already in the air I would have been stuck outside until he landed in the middle of the night.

With that little problem sorted, I went up four flights of stairs to the room – thanking all the gods that I brought a tiny suitcase with me – and then took myself out to dinner.

It’s lucky I was warned about Icelandic prices. This is the first time in my life I’ve spent $50 AUD for soup and bread. Ok, it was delicious, but I’m still reeling from the sticker shock. A chicken Caesar salad was on the menu for $65 AUD.

After dinner, I went through the streets to walk along the harbour. It was stunning. Sunny, with just a slight wind, with music coming from the bars. Never thought I’d hear Barry White in Reykjavik, that’s for sure!

I was going to walk around to this big green pimple, but after a few minutes I realised it was too far away.

I stood looking one way and took this photo…

… then turned 90 degrees and snapped this.

It appears that Iceland has the same muscle-bound seagulls that Canada has!

Dad joke of the day:

Today was a day that was totally unplanned. If I wasn’t flat chat with Mum’s stuff before I went, I might have researched and worked out an itinerary, but after breakfast this morning, I grabbed the map I was given yesterday and had a look.

I decided to walk to see the changing of the guard, the botanical gardens and the David Collection. This last one was a museum which was free. How bad could it be??

So I set off, after finishing a really good book. Breakfast at the hotel was great, but expensive, so I didn’t feel bad about making a cheese and ham roll for lunch. I jumped on the train, and my walking adventure started.

This is such a beautiful city.

Full of cobblestones though. They’re everywhere.

I ducked into a gift shop and bought a magnet with the Little Mermaid on it, so when I realised I had over an hour to wait for the changing of the guard and I was nearly at the edge of the map where she was, I threw caution to the wind and went to see her.

I’ll be back in a couple of weeks when I’m on the tour.

Remember last year when Meg and I were in Vancouver and we saw The Little Diver. She was modelled on the Little Mermaid, but the good matrons of the city didn’t want naked boobies on show where the kiddies might see. Hence she’s wearing a wetsuit.

After visiting the mermaid, and promising her I’d be back, it was time to hotfoot it to the palace square. Thank goodness I wasn’t here in high season. There were plenty of tourists as it was.

The changing of the guard ceremony happens 4 times, so I filmed the first one, then raced around to simply watch the others. These videos are in 20 second increments to make them easier for wifi to upload.

The new lot march in, watched by most of the old group that are ready for some R & R.

They then march around to all the stations in turn, to swap over. The soldiers have a quick debrief.

The leader then rummages around, making sure that all the equipment that is meant to be there is there.

The swap is made.

And off they go to the next doorway.

I headed off to the Botanic Gardens to have a picnic. Copenhagen was really turning the weather on. It was 21C and I knew I was probably getting sunburned. On the way, I saw another park, so I ditched the Botanic park, found a nice tree and plopped down underneath.

The park was full of people enjoying the day. It was lovely. While I was there, Liga messaged to say that she’s booked the Michelin Star restaurant for the Latvia part of this trip. James and I are very excited. It’s all happening, baby!

After I’d relaxed, I looked to see where the David Collection was. Turns out it was across the street from, just 3 minutes walk away.

I’ve seen some cracking little museums in London, so I was keen to see what this one had to offer.
Not a great deal, as it turned out. It was dry, stodgy, and dull.

It had two floors of Islamic art. I quite liked this helmet. It’d scare the shit out of anyone on the battlefield.

Unfortunately, 99% of the labels on everything were in Danish, so I whipped through this museum pretty quickly.

This reminded me of all the stuff we’ve been sorting through at Mum’s house. I had a bit of PTSD when I looked at all of the cabinets full of knick-knacks.

What a boring place. Give this one a miss if you have some time to kill in Copenhagen.

But the Royal Chapel made up for it. Just lovely.

This place certainly loves its bikes.

I’m proud of myself. As you know, I’ve been on many tours over the last few years. You get very used to being shepherded through things.
With this small leg of the tour, I was on my own. Any mistakes I made, such as not booking enough nights’ rooms, had to be solved by me.

I’ve spent two wonderful days wandering around the streets of a city where I know no one. I’ve worked everything out, without asking anyone for a single direction. It’s good to know I can do that.

Tomorrow I fly to Iceland where I’ll be meeting up with Morgan and Baptiste from the 2022 Antarctica trip. Corinna (Antarctica 2022 and England 2023) and James ( North Korea 2018 and Ireland 2023) will be joining us in a day or two.

What fun we’re going to have!

Dad joke of the day:

Every roundabout here has a sculpture. This one is the hibiscus flower, which is the national flower of Malaysia.

Entrance to the Mari Mari Cultural Village is via a hanging bridge across a creek. This place was set up to showcase the 5 tribes of Borneo, showing how they lived and also offering food and drink tastings.

I wasn’t sure how this day would turn out. It could be good, or it could be hokey and a little bit Disney. Fortunately, it was good.

The first area we visited was the Rungus tribe, where they offered honey from stingless bees.

If you’re ever in the jungles of Borneo and feel like eating some honey, here’s what you need to do:

Cut a small hole in bamboo. 

Take it to the forest and leave for a month, but check once a week. 

When the hive is ready, take bamboo, cut it in half and harvest for the honey. Too easy!

The honey tasted very lemony. Not nearly as sweet as we’re used to. It was delicious.

Our next visit was inside a Rungus longhouse. I have to say, if I had to spend some time in the jungle, I’d be pretty comfortable here. Aside from being eaten alive by mozzies, of course.

One longhouse for 1 village. 

1 room for 1 family.

The longhouses could go for 1.5 km long, sometimes! When someone gets married, they just add another room.

Everyone in the tribe had to learn how to make fire. The boys… because they’d be out hunting for days in the jungle as men.
Girls… final task before she gets married. She has to make it before her prospective in-laws. No fire? It means she can’t cook, so therefore there’ll be no wedding.

Marat are the headhunters. There are two different types of headhunting.

1. Ethnic cleansing. They kill the whole village, men, women, children, even babies.
2. Normal headhunting. This is warrior to warrior. A man from this tribe needs to present a head to his in-laws to prove himself worthy to marry their daughter.

This is a coffin for a warrior. After 5 years, they come back, clean the bones and bury them.

“We will not be showing you the headhunting demonstration today.” That’s a relief!

They used to hang the skulls around a house. It protected the village by acting as a deterrent. Too many skulls, a group of attackers will go to another village instead.

They call blow darts the silent killer. The poison on the dart paralyses the warrior. Then the attacker runs in, chops off the head and leaves the body there.

The dart can go as far as 50 metres, depending on the lung capacity of the warrior.

My lung capacity isn’t as good as that, but I managed to hit the wall both times. Happy with that.

Tapioca and sugar. We typically know tapioca as sago… little round balls. Mum used to make lemon sago when we were kids and I loved it. I must ask her how to make it.

This was ok, but without the sugar it’d be tasteless. Before European colonisation, they used honey for flavour.

Single lady staircase. They sleep above their parents and pull the ladder up with them. If they get attacked, the girls will hopefully escape notice.

In another longhouse, we were told that after the girls went upstairs to bed, the father would take the ladder and hide it in the jungle. If the girls needed to go to the toilet in the night, they had to wake their dad or their brothers to get the ladder for them.

Every time they chop off a head, they get a small tattoo from charcoal.

Nurseries look the same the world over.

What’s also the same the world over is alcohol. No matter where they live, people have always found a way to get drunk. Here, they make rice wine. The fermented rice wine tastes just like port. The unfermented one tastes like soju. (Happy memories of North Korea…)

Sugar, rice flour and water. Yum! Like crunchy, sweet noodles. They also served a ginger tea which was fantastic.

How to keep the kid quiet while Mum and Dad are working.

Straight after this, it was time for the cultural presentation. We were among the last groups to get there, but Fortunately Frogdancer snagged a seat in the second row, behind some very short kids. Not often that happens!

The musicians were good.

This dance was fun. On the beat, the bamboo poles are moved apart, then together. The dancers have to move in time to avoid getting caught.

The Murat longhouse has a trampoline in the middle. Yes, really.

They use the trampoline to celebrate their victories, or to see who can jump the highest.

Nowadays they hang money, a camera, an Apple Watch. The highest ones win.

Here I am midair, but only just. It’s safe to say that I wouldn’t win a cracker.

On the way back to the bus, I saw the hanging bridge and went across it again, just for fun. Morna was good enough to take this photo when I called out to her.

On the way back, we stopped so that people could buy souvenirs, and the people that were going onto the 5 star resort could buy cheaper wine. I wandered around on my own, only buying a postcard of a baby orangutan to put on my fridge.
Every morning while my coffee is brewing, I look at my fridge with its postcards and magnets from my travels and it makes me feel happy. Not a bad way to start the day.

I decided that my last night in Borneo would be spent entirely alone. I’m going back to probate with Dad’s will, dealing with disposing of my parents’ belongings, dealing with banks, real estate agents and other horrible things. Tonight was a night where no one would make any demands on me.

Not even a small, beloved dog. (Sorry, Scout. Mummy loves you.)

I went up to the rooftop bar and bought a couple of cab savs during happy hour. I saw a small group from our tour up there on the other side when I walked in, but I pretended I didn’t see them until I was settled at my table, book in front of me and wines in place.

We waved.

I stayed there for an hour and a half, just reading and sipping my wine. Piano music was playing, it was warm and very pleasant.

A dinner in my room of muesli bars – like China with Blogless Sandy! – and I finished my book. It was an introvert’s dream.

I fly out today and I’ll get back to a Melbourne literally 20 degrees Celsius colder than here. How is that even possible?!?

I’m so glad I came to Borneo. We only scratched the surface of it, as we only went across the top end, but we saw so much in our short time here. My main desire was to see orangutans up close, which we did in the sanctuary. Seeing sun bears and the proboscis monkeys was an unexpected joy, and as for the otters? omg, so rapt.

The interesting thing for me is how different I felt here from how I felt in Zanzibar. I was a little on edge in Zanzibar, whereas here I felt totally at ease and very welcome.

I wondered at the time in Zanzibar if it was all of the women in head to toe coverings, but the Muslims here do that too, so it clearly wasn’t that.

After mulling it over, I think that the people here in Borneo have a clear path forwards to individual prosperity, whereas in Zanzibar there was a much larger gap between the haves and the have-nots. I wouldn’t want to be there if any trouble started.

I booked this tour through TripADeal, and it was excellent value for money. I’m leaving with so much Malaysian money still in my wallet that I’m probably going to have to book a holiday on the Malaysian mainland, just to spend it!

Back to normal blog posts, until I leave for Iceland, Greenland, Scandinavia and the Baltics in a couple of months’ time. That’ll be the longest stretch I’ve been at home all year!

Dad joke of the day:

This will be a short post today, I think.

Most people tend to enjoy going to the beach. Today we had a day trip to an island off the coast of Kota Kinabalu, the city we’re staying in.

My friends and family know that I don’t go swimming unless it’s really hot. But look at me!

Sarah took this shot of me as I was about to go snorkelling in the South China Sea.

What can I say? The South China Sea is really warm.

Unfortunately I didn’t see any fish, though other people did. I put my name down for parasailing but it didn’t go ahead, as I was the only one who wanted to do it.

But some of us did sea walking. I wish I had’ve gone with them!
Basically, they plonk a helmet over your head, pump it full of air and off you go. They put fish food in your hands which are holding the helmet in place, so the fish come right up close to you.

I’m definitely doing this one day.

A monitor lizard came down to the beach to sun itself.

I wasn’t really looking forward to this day, but it ended up being quite nice. I was in the shade reading half a Kate Atkinson novel, we had a very nice seafood lunch and I went back in for another swim.

When we went back to the hotel… the Hilton, daaaarling… I arranged to meet Bron and Jason to go exploring. We decided to go to Australia Place, where Sarah said there’d be art.

These are very small, slightly bigger then bookmark width. I think they’ll look great in a frame together, without the words showing, of course.
Altogether, they cost me 10 ringgit, or $3 AUS.
It’ll cost far more for the frame, but at least, for once, I’m not paying a fortune for my art.

I saw these sun bear socks in other shop. You all know how much I love my useful souvenirs.

It turns out that Bron also lost her father recently, in somewhat similar circumstances to Dad’s death, so we had a good old debrief as we walked the streets of Kota Kinabalu. Jason, her husband, wisely walked a little ahead and let us talk.

Later, we all convened for our Farewell Dinner, even though we still have a full day to go. Maybe the restaurant was booked out on the appropriate night, who knows?

I took this shot on the way to dinner, through the bus window. A floating village, with modern skyscraper apartments in the background. I like the juxtaposition. 

It was an authentic Borneo meal, and it was absolutely delicious. A few people were scared of the spices and didn’t eat much, but they were missing out. It wasn’t too hot (as in spicy) and the Rendang was the best I’ve ever had. The pickled mango was amazing, too.
The dessert had banana in it – you know, the Devil’s food – but just as I gave mine to someone else and prepared myself to sit back and watch everyone else eat dessert, a plate of watermelon was put in front of me. Sarah had remembered that I hate bananas.

Oh! For anyone wondering about how good TripADeal is if you get sick, yesterday one of the men in the group was feeling very unwell. When we were having drinks in the rooftop bar, his wife came and joined us.

“ You can’t fault the treatment from TripADeal,” she said. “They paid for the taxi to and from the medical centre, and the doctor’s visit only cost $60 for the consultation and drugs.”

Not that I ever intend to get sick when I’m on holidays, but that’s good to know.

Dad joke of the day:u

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:

Head hunting. Because today was mainly a long bus ride.

Muru tribe were the most murderous.

A prospective bridegroom must present a head to the bride’s father. No head, no wedding.

The Muru used blowpipes. It paralyses you, then they chop off your head with a machete. 

Headhunting was stopped in the 1950s. Sarah’s own tribe used to headhunt, because they wanted their loved ones to have company in the afterlife.

She recommended not going into the deep jungle, though…

Japanese occupation was from 1941 – 1945.

September 1944, the allied forces controlled the air

The Japanese wanted to use the jungle trails, so they asked the locals for help. The locals made the trails as difficult as possible, not realising that the Australian and British soldiers would bear the brunt.

Each soldier was expected to carry 20 kgs. 

The locals purposely kept the trail away from their villages, so they asked Japanese wouldn’t enslave their young men and rape their women. Fair enough, too.

The lodge we were staying in had these stuffed tigers in the dining room. I was puzzled by this, as tigers aren’t from Borneo. It turns out that the wait staff use them to frighten off the monkeys. We saw it at breakfast today. Three monkeys tried to sneak in, but they were sent packing by a waiter waving a tiger around.

Just before we reached the Tea Plantation, where we stayed the night, we stopped off at the fish spa. I was looking forward to this, around 16 years ago, I plunged my feet into a fish spa tank at the Singapore Zoo, when David 32, (then David15), and I were there on holiday. My feet have never looked better.

This time I had to wade into a rocky river.

I have to say, it was easier to sit and put your feet into a tank. 

The Sabah tea plantation was established in 1973. Naturally they grow normal tea, but they have herbal teas as well. Pandan tea is the big seller here.

This will be the third tea plantation I’ve been to in 4 months!

The travel bag that I bought last year in the Outback got ripped on the boat, so today at the fish spa I bought a new one. It’s early days, but I think I’m going to like it.

Dad joke of the day: