Beverly, if you are reading this: I officially hate you! Let me explain why...

A gruelling two-hour bus ride later up to Kinabalu National Park only 80km away I finally arrive. The views are gorgeous all the way, mountain tops appearing from behind the clouds, lush rainforests and valleys are a constant sight. From an British English teacher on the bus I finally learn how to pronounce 'water' in English, I think much to the delight of Rebecca whom I've probably annoyed endlessly down under.

Now, tell me, do these things only happen to me, or are they normal? It's not enough to get ripped off by taxi-drivers, water-taxi drivers, but you can only pay by cash at the park ranger station. Yes, you can pay by card at the souvenir shop next door, at Sabah Sanctuary Lodges another 15m on the other side, even at the shabby little adventure-tour office in between, but not here. Cash only, and of course a big smile. Well, since I'm not carrying around RM 200 cash and there was no other way but cash, again with big smiles and the usual abundance of "Sorry sir, no can help", they send me away to Kundasang, 7km away for the nearest ATM. Great.

Since there were no buses in sight, I put on the big backpack weighing at least 20kg by, the small pack at the front, and start trotting to Kundasang. 20kg instead of the 16kg I started with as there is no food at all at the parks so I had to stock up in KK. A ton of chocolates, water, nuts, fruit, peanut butter and God knows what, I can hardly close my bag. So I'm walking, right?
I would even have enjoyed it, beautiful scenery, but the backpack... it's killing me. About half-way there a car pulls over and they offer me a ride. Very, very nice family, although when they ask "why you walk?" all I can do is laugh. Once in Kundasang disaster strikes again; the ATM doesn't accept my card and the bank itself is closed. The shutters are halfway down, the people inside and outside probably laugh at me as the bald idiot bangs on the doors trying to get in. Yes, very fannie.

Next stop, Ranau, another 30km away. Now that I really will not walk. But there are no busses, not even a taxi, so I start walking again. About a kilometre down the road I spot a really luxuriously looking area: "Kinabalu Pine Lodge Resort" where I decide to try my luck. Surely they must accept CCs there, and with any luck I can buy a 100 ringgit piece of chocolate and get the change in cash. But nooooo. I talk to the receptionist, his boss, her boss, and the boss of all bosses, but all that is returned is like a never-ending mantra: "no sir, sorry sir, no can't help" "sorry sir, policy sir" "so sorry sir" and their big, big smiles that just drive me crazy. I must have seemed really, really desperate and one of the customers there finally asks me how much I need. I come up only 60 short, and he just starts laughing. We agree on me paying his bill and him paying me by cash. All right! Problem #1 solved. Now to get back to the park.

It is about 17:00 now and really nothing goes anymore. Desperate now so I just stick out my thumb to hitchhike. No nice families this time to stop, sadly. After I have nearly given up a jeep pulls by, offering a ride. Really, really nice woman, she even drives me up into the park and invites me for a drink. She even offers to show and drive me around in KK once I'm back. But I really don't know if I can trust people. Would you let a complete stranger go back to her jeep with the excuse of "I forgot some papers, but you go ahead and order" while your massive 20kg backpack is still there? Hell, I wouldn't! Would you leave your eyes from your massive 20kg backpack when she asks you to go inside the dorm to make sure it is the right one? I surely wouldn't... at least not yet. I donnu. Would you?

"Leave nothing but footprints,
Take nothing but photographs,
Keep nothing but memories"


So, Friday, big day. Also the day I started hating Beverly with all my heart. Whose stupidly moronic f***ing idea is it to pay money to walk up some stupid rocks, up to some stupid peak, seeing nothing but clouds, continuously panting for air, getting soaked, scarred, eating cookies all day and finally getting a horrible sore in your knee? BASZD MEG!

It is still morning and I am still all happy. I show up exactly at 7:00 at the park entrance. Each of the five daily climbers get a private guide who will escort you the whole day. If you don't make it up to the rest-house by 12:00 he will drag you down. If you don't make it up to the top by 2:00 he will drag you down. The trail starts at around 1890m, and goes on for 6km to Laban Rata at 2370m. Another 2.7km on is Low's Peak at 4095m, with splendid views of the South China Sea more than 50km away. These first 6km is a pretty uneventful, boring jungle-trek, clouds constantly moving up with me and my ranger Aziz, so the magnificent view is always obscured.
On the way up - I start at 7:40 - I greet the people coming down from yesterday's climb. After learning "Good Morning" from my guide - "Selamat Pagi" - I must've pronounced it so expertly that the next person instantly bursts into a vivid Malay account of some sorts. After about a minute of me probably looking really stupid, she finally understands that I don't speak a word. Smiles again. More smiles when my ranger meets other rangers, and them pointing at me after he says "Punjak" - which apparently means summit or top. They probably don't believe that another crazy tourist is going up and down in one day. Just let them. I paid for this so I'm doing it! Don't really know what kept me going though, honestly.

I meet the magnificent four I met in KK just coming down and they hell horrid stories of numbing coldness, pitch black and strong, mind-freezing winds. Sounds good...
After 3 hours I finish the 6km to Laban Rata. It is now 10:40 and decide to rest until 11:30. This isn't as easy as it seems. Although the signs at the bottom proudly declares a 2:50:47 time for going up AND DOWN, I'm not even at the top yet. After putting on some warmer clothes - we are now above 3200m - we continue our trek. Trees have given way to rocks; and all that marks the way now are the ropes to cling on to.
Each sign marking another 0.5km is a picture worth taking. Even though the climb is much easier now, the scenery reminds me of Frodo's hardships in Lord of the Rings, it is very tough. The air is thin, it is hard to breathe and I have to stop a bit every 100 orso meters. The only upside is that my guide is panting, wheezing as hard as I am. Or perhaps he's just faking it to make me happy? I'll never know.


14:05. There, made it. Exhausted. Happy. Exalted. A sip from my Fütyülős. Eating a summit-chocolate. Hugging Aziz. Sunbathing at 4095.2m. Awesome!!

There isn't really anything else to do. The sun plays hide & seek with the clouds as they're constantly pushed up against the summit rocks. As they reach us a cold trickle of rain escapes them. After waiting for about half an hour for clear skies, we but only getting wetter and wetter, and decide to head down. The gates close at 18:00 and it's yet another 8.7km to go. No nice pictures, no sea, but at least I was there.

Going down is hell itself. It rains continuously, it is cold, the rocks slippery, the view no more than a hundred metres. It is cold. I said that already, but I must stress it again. It is cold. The gloves I bought in KK come in handy to cling onto the ropes in case I slip - which I did - but are soaked immediately. Just before Laban Rata the gates are already closed. We have to climb over them. My guide bides me to haste. After Laban Rata it's the stairs. Stairs made of rock, wood, I hate them. I hate them so much I cannot even describe in words how much I hate them. I really hate them. 4 more kilometres; my left knee is hurting again. The blue scarf is now wrapped around it providing some support, but it doesn't help much. It is now sheer willpower that keeps me going.
How much of a stupid idea I thought this to be on the way up, it is now much, much. Only stupidly idiotic crazies do this, not me. God! Why? Finally, at 18:05 we reach the gate. I will walk no further. I am cold, hungry, thirsty, tired and just beaten to death.
Yet, I have 1.8km more to walk to the dorm. Every step down is horror on my knees, going up is like putting my quads in a furnace, yet as I put one foot down, the other follows automatically, almost running. There is no slowing down, only one pace. 17.4km in one day, going up from 1866m to 4095m and down again. No one should do this, especially not pay for it. Honestly. I will testify if needed.

The aftermath is glorious. We sip cheap brandy mixed with cola - christened "branda" - with the fabulous four and Alex whom we've met the way down. My legs, knees don't hurt anymore, I've had enough hiking for the next few years.

Beverly, I hate you.


Really funny, true story. Like the ranger trailing me all day, so do all the shopkeepers, assistants. You enter a shop, they will greet you with a friendly "Can I help sir?" and will follow you around the shop at a comfortable 1-2m distance. At times I just stroll around the isles for fun, playing hide & seek, checking if the clerks can keep up. I might be a bit mean, but it's funny! :D