I say my goodbyes to my newly found group as our ways separate for now. Some go on a river cruise, others down to Semporna, to dive. Maybe we'll meet again. Would be nice. From today - Monday - I have about five days left in Borneo before I meet up with Michel in Hong Kong. Two things are on my todo list: a visit to Brunei, and going off exploring on my own... by motorbike! Yes, I do. Some things just cannot be left out, and once I set my mind to something there's no stopping me. Even though I do not have a license, have had only a single lesson ever and just a few hours on the back of a bike, nothing can stop me. People who know me know this.


Early Tuesday morning I go down to the Wisma Sabah shopping mall to www.gogosabah.com motor rentals and get the bike without any problems. My daypack, some water, chips, a really groovy green helmet and my trusty uber-awesome sunglasses and off I am! Sadly I will have to let go of the idea of visiting Brunei. There just isn't enough time left. I think I can survive without those stamps in my passport, the motor has a much higher attraction factor.

I picked a semi-automatic 128cc - I know, real bikers would call this a toy, but my baby could do a 100km/h easily - Yamaha and have the shop explain how everything works. A semi-automatic motor, there is no clutch. Simply let go of the gas, put down the ball of your foot and the bike gears up; pushing down with your heels to gear down. Easy enough. I wait wisely for the guy to leave before trying my luck. A wise choice as I must've looked like a hundred year-old geezer trying to cross the street. With the quickness of a deceased snail I accelerate, braking down hundreds of meters before a turn, junction, or roundabout, never exceeding 40km/h. My God, just like my first driving lesson, I feel like a real idiot. I pull down all the way to the side of the road, letting the other traffic pass; feeling really, really embarrassed. Cars line up behind me, the ever so friendly Malays honking impatiently. Not only do I have to concentrate on the bike, but the city traffic is maddening, and I have to check directions as well. How did I think I could do this? Sometimes I don't think everything is quite 100% up here.

But time does heal all wounds it is said. And you know, people are right. An hour orso into the journey I gather enough confidence and the accelerometer steadily rises until 70-80km/h. I even take over some big trucks. It always feels to be the one in the left lane - ok, right in Malaysia. Even the weather is most pleasant, a cooling breeze, I think I quite like this bike thing. For some reason I have to think about "Highway to Hell" and start singing out jubilantly trying to outdo the rushing sound of the wind.


Now that I have the bike under control I can focus on the scenery. Ever going north, north-east, along the coast, cloud-covered Mount Kinabalu is ever looming on my right side. A friendly local helps me find my way. All I have is a crappy map from a travel guide, some directions from the rental shops and the odd road-sign found by the wayside. Just as in Belgium the signs are great but missing at the most crucial of junctions. I have lost my way quite a few times, but without time-constraints there is no stress, so I don't mind at all. Just the damn tropical downpour that happens every so often out of the blue. Especially as I start to take on the mountain range, a few drops of rain signal a mandatory rest. If not pulling over within the minute and finding shelter it's like taking a nice, warm shower. I survive the first attack, but later on in the afternoon there is nowhere to hide. I see the signs of the coming thunderstorm at the horizon, lighting cracking up the sky but I have to press on. My target is only 70km away, should be there within the hour. My luck runs out and right in the middle of two bus-stops the downpour starts. Within mere seconds I'm soaked wholly and it's useless to look for shelter now. The heavy rain however blinds my glasses, and without them I cannot go any faster than 30km/h. I take off my shirt, switch to my swimming trunks, but too late. I start feeling cold, goose bumps scatter my arm, muscles spasm to keep warm. I think I'm tired, very tired. Either way, at this rate I will never make it...


Before we continue, I should probably write down where I'm going. Or why. Travelling on a holiday is usually by bus or taxi. Taxis as commonly known are ripping you off, busses, especially here, are like playing the casino. Even when they arrive - and you have no idea if they ever will - they take ages to get anywhere and are just plain boring. Having your own transportation, exploring on your own, going off the beaten track is simply the best thing to do. I've paid only RM150 for three days, plus about RM20 for fuel. 40 Euros. A real bargain. The big plan is to go from KK through Kota Belud to Kudat and visit the Tip of Borneo as coupe de resistance. Along the way I can visit all the small villages, sights that everyone misses out, and just enjoy the trip. About 220km.


Ok, back on track. Although I spend most of my time on the highway, it would be a great honour to call it this. The only way to recognize this as such is by the marker stones by the side of road every kilometre or so, but otherwise... not far outside KK dogs lazily enjoy a little sun in the middle of the road, cattle crosses the highway without regard to any pedestrian crossings and even the odd geese shows up for a visit. During the day... this is fine. But at night, in the pitch darkness when one cannot see more than 10-20 meter ahead, this serene gathering can easily become a slaughter house. With bad consequences for both participants.
As the sun sets, the rain finally lets down, but I am still about 50km off of Kudat. So I decide to visit one of the sights planned for the return journey right now and turn off the main road at the "Rungus Long House" sign to stay for the night.

I make my way in total darkness, feel the surface change, I think it's a dirt-road now, but cannot really see in the weak light. Sore, wet, hungry, but most of all exhausted, I ask the host if I could spend the night. It's already past seven in the evening, he has probably closed up for the night, but for RM80 he agrees. Thank God. I would not have been able to ride for another minute.

The guy has a horrible smell. Sweat mixed with something bitter oozes from him whenever he moves. So I keep a safe distance. After a quick shower I realise all my clothes are a goner so I sneak out and put on some I find hanging on the railing. The same stench emanates from them as from the host; must've been his son's. Beggars can't be choosers it is always said and I take the minor inconvenience of this smell gladly in return for food. These people might've been "savages" not too long ago, but I still don't think showing up in your Adam's costume is appreciated.

The Rungus are one of the more than thirty indigenous people in Sabah, totalling a few hundred thousand. Traditionally they live in longhouses, long houses built from bamboo, the walls facing outwards. The air moving freely through the cracks, these buildings offer a cool relief from the scorching heat even in the middle of the day. Most are Christians. Curiously enough the missionaries only started their "saintly" work about fifty years ago, but already with great success. I can believe from him that these missionaries have brought a lot of progress and have helped them a lot. Schools, roads, money, it's all okay. But he truly believes the old pagan ways are evil, that believing in the forest spirits, in nature is the way to hell. Poor guy. Yes, you are now civilised, but I cannot make him understand they would've been enlightened anyways in these fifty years without getting brainwashed. I don't want to really press the issue for the fear of offending him, but I do feel a bit sad.


In the morning I say my goodbyes and continue my way towards Kudat. There is really, really nothing to do here. Filthy, dark facades, squalid stores, hawker's stalls and the most disgusting hotel I have ever seen in my life. It's only RM25 though. And the people are really nice. I mean really, really nice. Eh I mean friendly. These few days of travelling have shown me that the further away from touristy areas you get, the friendlier, the nicer people get. They do not annoy you with invitations into their restaurants, massage parlours, or whatever, but really give you this curious, but benign look. I'm probably only the second or third foreigner they've seen this year. I feel the whole street's eye following me as I walk around. Slight turns, muffled laughs, I know I am the subject, maybe even the highlight of their day. I've had people just stroll up to me asking if they could help, if I wanted to share some of their food, or just let them show me the area. A teenage boy ran up to me in the store asking for a photograph together as if I were some famous media star and clearly being very happy with my consent. Girls turn away their heads, huddle together, giggle and talk to each other. Smaller kids suddenly grow quiet and the braver ones yell out "Hello boy!" from a safe distance and burst into a run if I turn around. I've even heard "You very handsome boy" after a quizzical look at a particularly long giggle and the consequent translation in a barber shop. After venturing in for a massage - yes, it was just a massage.... ok, and pedicure, manicure - I spent about two hours learning Malay and I was even touted "Thomas and Friends". I am still not used to this, it really seems surreal, fake somehow, but after two weeks it might be a bit more than just a surface show - as in New York; it comes from much, much deeper. I also feel changed, much more open to people, the mandatory western distrust slowly dissipating by the warmth of these people. Nicely put, no?

The same kind words cannot be applied to my travel guide book. Well rested, Wednesday I decide to honour the beautiful white-sandy beaches of Bak Bak in the early afternoon before heading off to the Tip of Borneo to see the sunset. Bak Bak turns out to be a concrete-enforced wall guarding against the sea with nowhere a beach in sight. Especially in the afternoon and the low-tide, the view is just abominable. At first I think that I've gotten lost - again - but a local confirms my biggest fears. Yes, I am in the right place. So much for using my swimming trunks. Let me show you what the book wrote:
"There are some beautiful and extensive unspoilt white-sand beaches north of town, the best known is Bak-Bak, 11km north of Kudat"

Yeah, right. Az anyátokat, azt!


Ok, on to Tip of Borneo then. It is the most north-eastern point of the island of Borneo at which point the South China Sea and the Sulu Sea meet. A nice memorial has been built at this site back in 2004 to commemorate the independence of Malaysia. With lots of nice lookouts from on top of the rough rock surface it should be a beautiful sunset indeed. Getting lost again and again, going back and forth on the same 3km track I must seem like some kind of an idiot to the locals. Especially after asking for directions and then just wheezing past them twice more. Oh well, another foolish foreigner...

Signposted off the main road just at the last moment there it is. I turn right. Suddenly the concrete surface ends and I am on a heavily ravaged dirt road. Going on for kilometres on end I am about to turn around when I finally find somebody who confirms that I am indeedgoing in the right direction. Just as abruptly as the dirt road started, it ends and once again I am back on a normal road. From here on it's like a leisurely walk in the park to the memorial. Why a 15km strip of dirt road... who knows. It's Asia. They're weird.

The memorial is really nice, I even climb down the rocks to touch the warm waters of both seas simultaneously, but my luck seems to have run out. The sky is cloudy and the sun sets without much fanfare. All I am left with is a drive back to Kudat in the pitch darkness at 30km/h for about 40km, of which 15km on a dirt road. Let me tell you: it's no fun. Especially the darkness as I know what can lurk behind the reach of my beamlight. We don't want to meet them. At least it's not raining even though a real thunderstorm must be ravaging the south-west. Flashes of lighting crack up the dark sky. Exhausted from the drive I just drop dead on the bed and don't even move till the morning.


I have the whole of Thursday for the remaining 220km back to KK and decide to give my travel book one last chance. There is supposed to be some really beautiful small places along the way which now I have time to visit. Mengkabbong for example:
"This Baja (sea gypsy) fishing stilt village is within easy reach of KK and is likened to an Asian Venice. The village is particularly photogenic in the early morning, before Mount Kinabalu - which serves as a dramatic backdrop - is obscured by cloud."
Sounds really promising. Off the road, onto the dirt, through squalid villages, floating debris, in search of this Venice of the east. Nothing, absolutely nothing. Just a few houses on stilts of which I have seen a zillion and garbage floating in the sea everywhere. Well, so much for the stupid book. Disillusioned I decide to just head back to Kota Kinabalu and rest.


I am not really tired though and decide to visit some of the sights in KK itself that I have not had time to visit so far. With the motorbike of course. First a quick ride to the beach. Nice, nice but as it's after five already there is no opportunity to get a tan, the sun is too weak by now. Still a nice exercise in tackling the town traffic. Once back I ride up to the town observatory just behind our hostel. A serpentine road going up... hmm... yeah... hehe. I spend the remaining hour orso until dark exploring the hills behind the town, going up and down several times just to practice the turns, controlling my balance, the clutches, accelerating and braking. I think this is the most fun I've had all day until now. There's Sabah for you! I know! :)

Back at the hostel I meet a girl in my dorm unpacking her stuff, the Mt. Kinabalu badge hanging from her neck, marking her as one of "us". Always a thankful subject of discussion for the initiated we start chatting and she invites herself on my bike to the observatory. Well, I haven't done this yet, how hard can it be? Actually... very, very easy. Either I am a natural - which is of course always a possibility - or she is one. Maybe both, or maybe we were just lucky. I can only feel her bumping into me with the occasional break, otherwise it's just as if she weren't there except for the arms holding me on tight. As there really isn't much to do here at night and I'm really not tired anymore we decide to continue this successful evening together, cruising down to the beach, up and down Sutera harbour, wonder aimlessly around town until the gas runs dry. It was a fun night.


Malays again. Really funny people. As me and Allison hop on the bike for the first time, the girls working at the hostel start giggling and laughing about how a romantic date we're having; how cute; together on the bike, arms wrapped around the waist, up the hills to see the sunset. Apparently there is no "just" a bike ride, it's immediately a date. As we stroll down the night beach, enjoying the cool night air, asking people what fun stuff there is to do in KK, we're assumed to be on a honeymoon. I just love Malay logic. It's so funny. And it's of course even better to exploit the situation by agreeing to their assumptions and seeing the surprised look on their faces as we say we're only on a holiday for a single day and then back to work. So naive :) But so nice as well; again.

Allison hitchhiked back from Mount Kinabalu herself and witnessed first-hand the warm-hearted Sabah friendliness. Not only was she dropped off before the hostel, but Andy & Co even insisted on meeting up with her in the evening for dinner around nine. As we are chatting at the observation point, Allison suddenly notes that the small boy running around in front of us is very familiar to that of Andy. We just shrug, and go back down to see if Andy has already arrived. Two seconds later a huge Nissan pulls up next to us, vaguely familiar to that at the observation point. Malays... it turns out they were at the hostel earlier, the hostess told them we were up in the hills and followed us. Lurking from the shadows, seeing us in deep conversation they didn't want to disturb the date, rather wait politely, not say a word and follow us down after we were done. This is just so alien to us, this nivelling of oneself not to cause disturbance to others, even if it means a lot of disturbance to one self. I don't think we could act likewise in the west, or if we did, we'd get stamped as being a weakling forever. Really admirable. Anyways, Andy even invited me - as Allison's appendix - to dinner and insisted it to be his treat. Really, really, lovely, friendly people. Welcome to visit us anytime.


The Malay night life. What do they do at night? Beats me. A bunch of people hanging around on the beach, apparently doing nothing. Others by the side of the road next to the sea, totally wasted from drinking cheap beer and a guitar, it's slim pickings. Clubs? Not easy to find. We were directed to the best clubs in town at KK Times Square. Huge shopping mall, but totally empty. Some cars parked around the only signs of life, but the place is totally deserted. Finally some night guards offer us to show to the bars. The first totally deserted, the second one not much better, the few people around are girls of pleasure. We finally settle for the most horribly wrong Lady Gaga White bar sing lounge thingie, something. Live music - or at least they act like it - three very scantly dressed (short) Asians singing and performing on stage and some people hanging around on couches. The security guards, very reluctant at first, join us and after drinking some beer, don't even feel like leaving anymore. What about work guys?

Out of the blue the lead singer starts trotting towards me - my gut knowing this cannot end well. Getting thrown onto the stage; apparently it is my birthday and I'm supposed to perform. He, great! It's not September yet people! At least there's no moving proof of my actions... Allison, I will get you for this!


I must say, all in all I have really loved Malaysia, Borneo even more. Definitely worth coming back. So much I haven't seen. In eastern Malaysia Georgetown and Malacca come highly recommended, the Cameron Highlands for adventure, or Pulau Perhentian for just lazing on the beach. In Sabah I still need to go to the #1 diving spot in the world off of Sepilok, river cruises, bat caves, and over to the west, Sarawak, I don't even know what else I'm missing, but the tales are amazing. Love you Malaysia!