"you marry?, where you husban?, family?, you marry, you marry?" the cabby SHOUTED at me over and over. Of course, this is where I should have introduced my *mountaineer/engineer/paramedic/athlete (*delete as appropriate) gorgeous, fit, 30 something husband called Jake Gillinghall (not that I've thought about it or anything) who was meeting me in Malaysia....but me being a complete dope, I just chuckled and said "no, no husband for me". Well talk about dramatic reaction, I thought the cabby was going to cry, he was devastated for me. "oh dear, dear, dear, I'm so so velly velly solly, so velly solly". I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders, I could be arsed to get into it with him. Arrival into Singapore was seamless thankfully. The oppressive humidity struck me as I jumped into the shuttle bus at the airport, along with 5 other Malaysian guys after handing my luggage to a complete stranger. I instructed the driver that I wanted to go to the YMCA (sounds like a que for a song), sat back and thought to myself 'here goes another leap of blind faith, bring it on", I smiled to myself and enjoyed the ride. Of course my primary purpose for Singapore was to see my ma and pa. I was so excited that I set my alarm for the next morning, got my bestest clothes layed out (well the ones that didn't smell anyway) and crashed, feeling those wonderful freedom and new country, new adventure butterflies in my tummy. The next morning I woke feeling really hungover (I hadn't had a drink), lethargic, heavy headed and really awful. I was suprised at how dark it still was outside and put it down to the season maybe? I struggled up and decided to look for water and a cash point. Out on the streets of singapore I was puzzled at how quiet it was out and everything felt really strange. I soon started to become concerned that I'd not heard from Ma, she was supposed to be touching down from Heathrown at 8am, it was 9.30 and still nothing..... I found money and water so headed back to the room, still feeling crap. Then I realised, in last nights anticipation I'd forgotten to change my clock. Great, I'd been wondering the streets in the relative middle of the night and that accounted for why I felt so crap! deeerr, the time changes had finally caught me out. Finally my time came to meet my mum and dad after 4.5 months. I was beside myself. I got a cab to the Hotel Marina Manderin which was 5++ star and I have never seen anything like it in my entire life. At the door the staff looked at me, puzzled with a look that said "you can't afford this joint love".... I just kept walking and made my way to the 4th floor. Funnily enough and true to form I found my parents in one of the bars. The renuion was emotional to say the least. Mum and I hugged and I sobbed for about 10 mins. That was the quota of hugging that I'd been missing out on since 12th May re-filled. After a short chat of catching up with them both it was like we'd never been apart from each other. From that moment forward ma and i were on a mission to clean my dad out. And that we did. He showed me empty pockets and an empty wallet several times over the next 3 days. We had a fab hotel which had about 20 floors, several restaurants, gym, pool, bars and bars, people playing classical music and wonderful staff waiting on us hand and foot. I was in heaven and have to say, I fit in very well don't you know..... :-) The following days were filled completely. We ate for England, drank oodles and oodles of champagne, champagne cocktails, Chinese in China town, Singapore slings in raffles, shops, shops, shops, and more food, food and food. We visited Sentosa Island and managed to get dad out the bar for a nanosecond for a trip on the chair lifts and a walk along the beach, it was beautiful. Singapore itself is a wonderful place but I suspect only AS wonderful if you have a dad on your arm who holds the wallet, thanks pops... :-) Our trip into China town began with ma and I needing a wee a bit sharpish so mum thought it would be fun to just pop into that dark, seedy looking kareoke bar. That we did. It was full of locals and we stuck out like a sore thumb. We left dad at the bar and legged it out the back to use the squat lav in the ally (he takes us to all the classy joints). Anyway by the time we got back, pops had pulled. The signal is sweaty nuts. I'm not kidding. They put a bowl of sweaty peanuts (what did you think I meant?) on the table and that's a signal for offering you 'business'.... in fact he was propositioned not once but twice in a matter of minutes. When mum and I turned up he was sat down staring at the nuts. He said 'don't touch the nuts' to me (as I'd been devouring anything in site like I'd just been released from Tenko or something) and we pushed them to one side and smiled at what was happening all around us. To top it off though, the ladyboy(?) came back and took the nuts back to save for another poor unsuspecting tourist! It was the funniest thing of the night and mum and I took the appropriate Piss, it had to be done. Sadly our short mini break had to end sooner than later and we parted company. Mum and dad flew to Penang for a little more luxury and I headed to my next adventure of Sabah, Nothern Borneo. Not before spending one final (all expenses paid by dad) in that wonderful hotel. (I know how lucky I am by the way). I left the civility (is that a word of did I make that up?) and serenity of the Hotel and made my way through the barrage of armed police. We'd stayed there during the set up and preparation of the International Monetary Fund conference taking place that week. We stayed in the same place as all the heads of finance from around the world. Apparently Gordon Brown was there but I didn't see him sadly. Of course i would have slapped him on the back and said 'alreet Gordy, hows' it hanging', well, errmm maybe not.... The flight to Borneo took 2 stops, Singapore to Kuala Lumpa, KL to Kota Kinabalu (to let a chinese fugative on who was cuffed to a cop) and finally onto Sandakan. At the stop in KL I got so confused with which country I was in (I thought Singapore was in Malaysia but according to immigration it isn't) that I had to ask what currency I should pay for my water in as by now I'm carrying my own money exchange business with me. It was Malaysian Ringits. Apart from a chinese man who shorted all the way to Borneo, the flight was fine thankfully. 'I can't believe I'm here' I thought to myself. 'Have I really managed to get myself half way around the world and now I'm acutally in Borneo?' I had to pinch myself and still do. I picked up a hotel leaflet and thanked god when my pack showed up, jumped into a cab and so my next adventure would begin..... He had one castle tooth in his head and just laughed the whole time. Not one word of English was spoken between myself and the cabby, just smiles and laughter. The car engine cut out every time we stopped and he had to keep spinning the steering wheel around to make it go straight (not dis-similar to my first student car actually). The interior of the doors was missing with exposed wiring everywhere and the floor had ripped lino over it. Most of the buttons on the dash were missing but appropriatly had Malaysian flags poking out of the holes. 35 degree heat and a billion% humidity we stopped at a fuel pump. The cabby disappeared and some guy started filling up. I opened the car door partly to see if I could get some air and partly to make a quick get away if I needed to. Of course there was no air except a mouth full of fumes. "Woah, woah!' me and the rest of the fuel station people shouted as the cabby started the engine and began to drive away while the fuel was still flowing into the car! The cabby just chuckled and tapped his temple as if to say "Im crazy". 'gotcha' I thought, with a wink and a point of my finger. O...K.....Then...... At the hotel (which was fine) I started to feel some culture shock and began to lock myself into my room and try to make myself feel safe. Later that eve I spotted a shadow on the wall out of the corner of my eye. Jesus christ, it was a f*** off enormous black spider crossed with a beetle. It lifted itself on its front legs and as the first strike of my trainer missed it, it jumped!!!! It F***ing jumped!!!! Adrenalin pumping, it jumped in a second to half way up the door, onto my bag and then onto the floor right in front my feet. I instinctivley lifted my foot to stomp on it (it was a question of survival you have to realise, not that I'm being dramatic or anything), except as I lifted my foot, my flip flop twisted and I hammered my foot down onto this thing that was as big as my hand. Yes, there you have it, I'd crunched it with my bare foot. Now came the convulsion/body popping/moon walking matched suitably with high piched rythmic whimpering. A little like when you were a kid trying to wipe the dog poo from the bottom of your shoe except I was doing this move in a hotel room. This was to begin my first night of insect paranoia. The next day I left for a one hour cab ride into the Borneo Jungle. Which, in my opinion, could be the single most beautiful place on the planet. because of the climate and heavy rains everything flourashes and the floura and fauna is just spectacular, as well as the sounds of the jungle. Well I asked for 'off the beaten track' and I damn well got it. It was wonderful. Surrounded by banana trees, palms, turtles swam in the ponds, parrots sang in the trees, monkeys played high above, just wonderful. I stayed in a small jungle hut complex and had a very basic room for 8pounds per night including breakfast. I sat and sweated as I waited for my room to be ready. Hungry, I asked for an egg sarnie and some fruit. The sarnie came in the shape of an omlette with two pieces of bread either side of it.....hhummm, don't think they follow the low GI diet over here...... The room was in the middle of the jungle with a flont door that was like a loo door as in it didn't seal floor to sealing. With no mozzy net, a tiny lamp and a smaller fan I covered myself in 10% deet, stayed awake all night listening to the sounds of the monkeys, parrotts and god knows what else outside, seeing the shadows of lizzards on the walls and praying nothing would implant in me or eat me. I got up in the morning checking for elephantitus or signs of tape worm and was careful not to touch the walls which were teaming in giant red ants. What happened following however, was worth every sweaty moment of it. I spent the morning feeding the Orangutans in the jungle. I sat with them at the Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre. The Orangutans here have been hunted and captured but were rescued before they were killed or worse. Most had been abused badly and because of this they wanted to minimise human contact in order to prepare them to be released properly back into the jungle. They're known to have 84% same genes as humans and you can certainly tell that from observing them. They're incredible creatures and it was an amazing experience. After a few days in the jungle I decided it was time to move on and I did need some proper unbroken sleep so I asked to use the 'shuttle bus' back to Sandakan and back to the hotel with 'the creature'. Shuttle bus? More like they wheeled out great uncle 'foo cum yung' at 120 years old, he pulled up in his ancient battered old mercedes estate and ushed me to get in. I figured 'hey ho, in for a penny' and chucked my bags in the back and chose the back seat. Good job to as no sooner had I gotten in so did a small child next to me and an old lady sat in the front. Seems I'd gate crashed a family day out and paid 30RM for the trip. It was cool though. The mother spoke broken English and kept selling me trips down the river, or maybe she was trying to sell me down the river, to the Borneo head shrinking tribe... sorry, my paranoia kicking in again.... We travelled down a dusty and bumpy road slowley, any traces of my car sickness long gone. The car was surrounded my dense, beautiful jungle and the odd person we saw covered themselves from the midday sun with an umbrella. The family chatted in Malay as I picked ants off my legs, feet, arms, neck.... Once again we stopped for fuel while the engine ran and fuel spilled all over the floor. When we arrived at the hotel I thanked the family for their hospitality. 'You English' the mother said, 'all English say many thank yous, other countries say not many thank yous, English say many thank yous'...... So I did the only correct thing and said thank you - again, we all laughed, they waved and were gone. 'Welcome back Miss Amy' the staff at the hotel said and my room (the same room as before) suddenly became 20RM cheaper. My last day in Sandakan and Borneo was spent wondering around following my nose. Here i had to cover up, wear a long top and trousers, no sunglasses, no camera and just try to blend in as much as possible. It wasn't possible though. People stopped in the streets to stare at me, fascinated by this westerner stood before them. They looked at me as though I was somekind of science experiment, which some of my grade 6 hangovers may warrent but it's not a typical look of mine). I found a cafe that looked cleanish but was full of locals. 'limitation is a product of the mind' I tell myself and so I go in. Find a table and wait it out. I managed to order a coffee and began to write in my journal. Eventually the stares subsided and the locals began to go back to their lunch/business whatever and so I was able to sit in the middle of a typical day in Sandakan Borneo and take it all in. I haven't seen another westerner since I've been here, or another Nationality for that matter and it has been an incredible experience. It's just how you'd imagine. Lots of buses crammed with people, heads and arms hanging out the windows trying to get some air. Rubbish pilled high in the streets, some of the smells are putrid, stalls selling fresh fruits covered in mould and flies, battered vehicals and filth in every direction. It would be wrong to text in public, wear expensive sunglesses or wear an i-pod. The place is poor but not dangerous. People are curious but friendly, even the children say 'hello lady'. The main thing that has struck me about Borneo is that everyone seems happy. The locals sit around on street corner and people are laughing, all the time. They're poor but happy. It's really heart lifting to see and be a teeny tiny part of it for a few hours. 'Suck it up Amy', (if you'll excuse the expression). 'Memory bank every peice of information that your every sense is telling you' and hold it close for as long as you can stave off demeture!' I tell myself. And so after that mammoth update, I pinch myself once again. Tomorrow is Kuala Lumpa, so from the wild woman of Borneo, with love xxx