At the top of the world -- November 27-29, 2007

The next stop on our 10-day whirlwind tour of northern Vietnam was Sapa, a small community at the northern tip of the country and only a stone's throw away from the Chinese border. It's also home to emerald-green rice terraces, a breathtaking mountainous landscape and colourfully garbed ethnic tribes who flood the streets hawking embroidered textiles, silver jewellery and sometimes marijuana or hash.



Of course, the best way to explore Sapa's lush valleys, stunning vistas and tiny villages is by motorbike. We lost little time in renting our own rides and heading out with our new travel companions Rory and Danielle, a lovely couple who hail from gorgeous Hawaii. (We met in Cat Ba, and shared a 4-person sleeper cabin for the 10 hour train journey from Hanoi. They turned out to be the perfect travel companions - easy going, fun and adventurous -- so we ended up hanging out with them during our time in Sapa.)

The crisp cold temperature was a stark contrast to the tropic humidity that blankets most of Southeast Asia, so we bundled ourselves into scarves, mittens and toques and hit the road. Along the way, we got up close and personal with buffalo...



... haggled with young but savvy Hmong girls ...



... snacked on fire-roasted sticky rice, sweet potatoes and chestnuts at a roadside stall ...



... and posed in front of some pretty awesome peaks.

Scaling Halong Bay - November 22-26, 2007

Up in the northeastern corner of Vietnam lies a vast bay sprinkled with 1,600 islets and islands. Named a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1994, Halong Bay is a popular tourist destination in Vietnam - and no wonder. Take a short boat ride into the bay and you'll pass hundreds of tiny secluded beaches tucked between spectacular limestone cliffs -- like Railay but multiplied by 1,000. Here's one particularly beautiful rock.



I had vague ideas about following the crowd and booking myself onto a multi-day trip aboard a boat to see some of the major attractions in the bay. With Shannon as my travel companion, I should have known better. While most tourists will simply gaze in wonder at the beautiful cliffs, he's quickly scoping out whether we can climb them.

So he hooked us up with Slopony, a new outdoor adventure outfit that is pioneering the sport of rock climbing in this most stunning of locations. Run by two Americans, Slopony is based in the tiny town of Cat Ba, a tranquil little town on one of the bay's largest islands. Here's the view from our fourth floor balcony.



Shannon's rock climbing obsession turned out to be the perfect way to experience Halong Bay. The rock climbing itself was great - it's a new sport here so unlike Railay, the routes are not overly crowded and the locations are gorgeously primitive. We spent one day climbing the cliffs in a pretty valley, surrounded by baying goats, meandering buffalo and rice farmers who must have thought we were slightly demented.

The company itself was great. They're professional and experienced, but best of all, Slopony has a laidback energy that is quite refreshing after the aggressive sales pitches of the local touts.

Here's a couple shots of me climbing. Here, Shannon happened to be coming down from a completed climb just as I was trying a route right next to him. Usually, there is a lot of "on-the-ground" coaching as the experienced climbers try and tell you where to put your feet and hands since from their vantage point, they have a better view of the route. This time though, Shannon was able to literally point out the holds to me, and at one point, he even grabbed my hand and placed it right on the ledge.



And here, I'm trying to get myself over a particularly hard "crux" - the most difficult part of the climb. I wasn't able to complete the climb on my first try, but did so when I returned the next day.

Hanoi's charms -- November 20-21, 2007

After 12 days of scrambling up cliffs and lazing by the pool, it was time for Shannon and I to strap on our backpacks, bandage up our wounds and head to Vietnam for a whirlwind glimpse of this enigmatic country. Like everyone else, I was familiar with its recent history and I had heard rumours of its astounding natural beauty. Unfortunately, we had only 10 days to spend in Vietnam so we decided to concentrate on two of the more popular destinations in the north (Halong Bay and Sapa).

***

First stop of course was Hanoi, Vietnam's capital city and the political centre. It's also one of the more charming cities that I have visited in Southeast Asia -- the numerous lakes and trees provide a tranquil antidote to the city's hustle and bustle, especially in the early mornings when you can spot crowds of Vietnamese playing badminton and performing Tai Chi along the shores.

The Old Quarter is an especially intriguing area to explore on foot with street side vendors hawking every kind of merchandise along tiny winding lanes. We were delighted by the street food - in addition to the ubiquitous (and delicious) pho and spring rolls, we enjoyed the baguettes and pastries (we can thank the French colonialists for something!), the Vietnamese coffee with sweet milk and the "do-it-yourself" barbecued beef dipped in a pungent spicy sauce.

One of the more memorable Hanoi exploits involved renting a motorcycle and heading out into the chaotic yet controlled traffic. We quickly learned that red lights are just a suggestion, names of streets change without warning and size really does matter -- we deferentially gave way to the transport trucks, SUVs and cars lest we ended up on their windshields.



I also had the chance to meet up with an old university friend (Mike Coleman) who has been working for the UN in Hanoi for the past three years. It was great to catch up and find out what's been going on in each others' lives since Ryerson, plus he took us out to a few of the city's hotspots. Warning though - the nightlife shuts down pretty early in Hanoi with the streets virtually deserted by midnight.

A rock climber's paradise - November 7 to 19, 2007

As I headed back to southern Thailand, I thought I was in for some serious relaxation and tan maintenance. Instead, in the 10 days I've been here, my knees, ankles, elbows and hands have been covered in bruises and scrapes. That's because the tiny postcard-esque isthmus of Railay is more than just a beach destination; its surrounding majestic limestone cliffs have attracted rock climbers from all over the world.



And my brother Shannon, an avid climber for many years, was determined to get me out on the rocks. He even bought me my own harness and climbing shoes so there was no turning back! Shannon's friend Jenny and her five year old son Aden also came equipped and ready to climb.

I've got to say, as I scrambled up 20 metre verticle cliffs, wrapping my fingers into tiny holes and cramming my toes onto narrow ledges, there is something slightly insane about this sport - especially when I glanced down at the tiny people on the ground and realized just how high up I was. Rock climbing is not for the faint of heart. Or for those scared of heights.

Here I am getting set for a climb - you can't tell, but I'm nervous. In the background, Shannon is ready to belay me so I won't crash to the ground if I slip off the rock.



Here's me "top-roping" a climb - if I fall (which I did quite often!), the rope will catch me so I will just sit in the air. It's much safer, especially for a beginner like me.



Here's Shannon leading a climb -- he is setting up the rope so we can top-rope it. It's more dangerous because there is less security -- although Jenny is belaying him from the ground, he will fall a much greater distance if he slips.



While upper body strength is key to a good rock climber, the scramble to the top of a climb is often a matter of flinging any available appendage onto sharp rocks, into crevices or onto outcrops in a desperate attempt to get yourself over a difficult patch. Hence all my bruises and cuts. But there is a deliciously satisfying feeling when, bathed in sweat and forearms throbbing, I haul myself up to the top and place my hand on the anchor -- and often the views are spectacular. Now that I have my own equipment, I will definitely check out the climbing gym in Toronto.

My time in Railay was not just sweat and bruises however. Daily massages, sunset drinks on the beach and afternoon lounging by the pool were required by all to smooth out the edges of our morning exertions.

My brother is coming! -- November 6,2 007

I've been traveling on my own now for the past 10 months, and for the most part, I've really enjoyed the freedom and independence of making my own decisions and doing exactly what I want. But there are downsides of traveling alone. Practically, it's just that more expensive when you can't split costs of accommodation and transportation. But more than that, it can get lonely at times when for the fourth day in a row you're eating alone at a restaurant and glance over at a table of friends hooting it up together.

As a single traveler, I have met tons of other people, gone out for dinner and drinks, and even traveled together for weeks at a time. But most of the time, we're really just ships passing through the night; we pause for a bit of company, swap war stories and advice, and even optimistically exchange e-mail addresses. We then go our separate ways, knowing deep down that you'll likely never speak to each other again.

Well, all that is going to change in a few hours. I'm in Ao Nang in Southern Thailand, waiting eagerly and impatiently for my older brother Shannon to arrive. I'm thrilled to not only have a travel companion for the next month, but to be sharing this amazing experience with my beloved brother. I can't wait!

Hunting dragons in Komodo - October 30, 2007

Before coming to Indonesia, I happened to catch an Animal Planet special on the Komodo dragon. Every detail about these ferocious lizards fascinated me -- their powerful jaws that can gulp down an adult deer in three bites, their poisonous saliva enabling them to attack and eat buffaloes (and sometimes humans!), the fact they only be found on three small islands off the coast of Flores. I knew that I wanted to see the dragons, not cooped up in some decrepit zoo, but in their natural habitat, where they are truly the masters of their domain.

Getting to Komodo Island from Lombok requires traveling by boat for three days past the volcanic island of Sumbawa. The journey itself was pleasurable -- given the dodgy reputation of some of the boat operators plying this route, I decided to fork over a bit of cash to go with Perama Tours, a company that has an excellent record for safety and professionalism. I was happy with my decision. The crew were attentive, the guide knowledgeable and best of all the food was delicious. I opted to sleep on the deck so was able to enjoy the spectacular sunrises and the rugged beauty of Sumbawa's coastline along the way.



As we neared our destination, the rich green jungles gave way to arid, savannah like terrain. It was hard to imagine that these desolate islands supported not only these gigantic carnivores, but a couple of tiny fishing villages, wild pigs and deer, buffalo and other tasty morsels for the dragons.



After a slightly scary safety lecture (example: women who are menstruating should let the rangers know so they can provide them with extra protection!), we disembarked and eyed the beach nervously -- the dragons are known to come to the beach to look for prey.

Our three park rangers then joined us, and with their big sticks, stationed themselves at the front, middle and back to begin our hunt for the dragons. We didn't have long to wait; two enormous dragons were lounging beneath the cafeteria hut, staring at us with the lazy confidence that comes with being the island's top predator. These creatures are simply awesome - at three metres long, their sheer bulk, enormous curved claws and sharp teeth were enough for us to realize that these were no ordinary lizards.



Then suddenly as we were walking back the park headquarters, we spotted a full grown dragon coming toward us along the path. To see these powerful creatures dozing around the cafeteria was intimidating enough, but to watch its leg muscles ripple, the toxic drool spilling out of its mouth and its tongue flicking as it sniffed for prey was just plain scary.

The rangers' voices suddenly sharpened as they told us to get off the path immediately. With adrenaline pumping, I and several other tourists scrambled into a small enclosure, which we realized too late didn't have an easy escape route should the dragon decide to go after us. As it got closer, the dragon seemed to turn toward us as if it had detected the delectable scent of a possible meal, but luckily for us, one of the rangers had stationed himself at the entrance of our enclosure and waved his stick at the dragon. It quickly decided we weren't worth the effort and slowly ambled past us. I don't think we were really in any danger as the rangers are well trained, but we exchanged relieved sighs and rolling of the eyes as we savoured our close encounter with this amazing beast.

Taking the plunge - October 23-27

Back when I was communing with the sea turtles at Sipidan, I jealously imagined the kind of creatures the divers were seeing at 20 metres below the surface. I resolved then and there that I would take the plunge (literally!) and get my PADI Open Water license in Indonesia.

So after my week in Bali, I headed to Gili Air, one of three tiny tropical islands off the coast of Lombok and the site of several highly reputable dive centres. It turned out to be the perfect place to take my diving lessons - the waters were crystal clear, the white sand beaches pristine and with no cars or motorcycles on the island -- just the clip-clop of horse drawn carts -- the atmosphere was decidedly calm.

After some hemming and hawing, I decided to go with Dream Divers, a German-run outfit, mainly because they had several cute cats hanging out in the lounge area. Unlike Bali, few tourists make it to the Gili Islands outside of July and August so I was pleased to find out that it would only be me and the instructor that week.

After handing me a thick text book, my instructor had me get into the wetsuit and strap on the heavy scuba gear. We then waddled straight into the shallower part of the beach to begin learning the fundamentals of breathing from a tank of air, holding my nose and blowing to reduce the pressure in my ears, and inflating and deflating my "jacket" so I could float along the the ocean floor. My hardest challenge involved taking my mask off underwater, placing it back over my eyes and breathing through my nose to clear the water. For the first two days, I would panic as soon as the water hit my face and after several futile attempts would flap to the surface to gasp air.

My lessons also involved learning a great deal of scuba theory - the physics of the water pressure in your ears and sinuses, the geographical features that produce different kinds of waves and currents, the biological affects on your body as you dive to 20 or 30 metres. Complete with quizzes and a final exam, I spent my evenings studying the text book and working on mathematical calculations to figure how much nitrogen builds up in your body after a dive -- I think this was my first "homework" assignment in 10 years!

The highlight of my lessons, of course, was putting all the theory and newly learned skills to practice in a real deep water dive. On my third and fourth day, my instructor took me to four different spots around the Gili Islands -- and I'm happy to report that it was every bit as thrilling as I imagined! At first, I was a bit out of control as I kept bumping into my instructor or hitting the bottom of the ocean floor, but by my fourth dive, I was learning to control my buoyancy with greater confidence.

Best of all, the animals were even more colourful and weirdly shaped than I had ever seen along the surface. Lion fish, cuttle fish, stingrays, eels, sea turtles -- the waters around the Gili Islands were teeming with life. I wish I had an underwater camera so I could capture this beautiful new world.

Here are some photos of Gili Air -- whether you're a diver or not, it is a tranquil place to spend a few days.



These local boys starting hamming it up as soon as they saw my camera.



The full moon hovering over the horizon

A tale of two cities - October 17-20, 2007

After a few days of chasing volcanoes, I decided to head to Bali to see for myself the mythical island that lures millions of tourists to its shores every year. As soon as I disembarked from the ferry at the western tip, it was clear that I had stepped into a vastly different culture than Java's. Stone sculptures of various Hindu and other unknown deities stood guard at all the intersections and bridges, while ornately carved doorways and palm thatched pavilions zoomed by my bus window.

During my time here, I visited two cities that symbolize the divergent worlds of Bali - one in which the Balinese religious and cultural traditions continue to thrive despite the crowds of foreign visitors and the other in which the Western gods of Starbucks and MacDonalds -- and dreadlocked surfer dudes -- rule the streets.

***

From the ferry, I headed straight to Ubud. Surrounded by terraced rice fields and lush river valleys, this laid back community is the artistic heart of Bali. The streets are lined with galleries showcasing the work of local painters, sculptors, woodcarvers, batik artisans, silversmiths and jewellers, as well as intricately carved temples and statues. Take a walk through the verdant countryside around the city and you'll find tiny villages with artists at work on their creations in one-room studios. Some of the merchandise in Ubud were of the usual souvenir mass-produced quality but there were many exquisitely crafted handmade, unique pieces on display - self-control was required to to resist the urge to buy one of everything!

As I walked the streets, I found myself just as fascinated by the subtle examples of Balinese creativity and beauty -- the fuchsia flowers tucked behind the ears of a stone god, the tiny palm leaf trays filled with rice, flowers, cookies and candies set out on the ground in front of stores and homes each morning to appease the demons. Sometimes, the artistry was a bit macabre, like this Rangda devouring a child.



One of the many highlights of my visit to Ubud were the nightly cultural shows - shadow puppets, fire walkers, traditional Balinese dances. They are quite touristy but well performed and entertaining. My favorite was the Kecak Fire and Trance show in which a circle of about 100 men chant and sway as an accompaniment to the dancers acting out scenes from the ancient Ramayana legend.



***

In my two days in the famed beach resort of Kuta, I felt like I was in a little Western enclave of fast food chains, designer stores (Ralph Lauren Polo franchises on every block!) and kitschy souvenir shops (giant wooden penis anyone?). Skimpily clad foreigners wandered the streets, blithely ignoring the modest sensibilities of the local people. At night, the streets became a pulsating mass of reggae, club music and drunken revelers.

There was nothing much to remind me that I was in Bali -- aside from the sticky heat and the odd palm tree, I would have a hard time knowing I was in Asia! I can only hope that the hordes of tourists here also make the effort to see Ubud and other parts of Bali so they get a taste of this fascinating culture.

The one moving "attraction" in Kuta is the memorial erected to honour the 200 victims of the 2002 Bali bombings, which exploded along Kuta's busiest street. All that is left of the Sari Club (the site where most of the victims died) is a fenced grassy plot of land, along which relatives have left heartbreaking messages and photos of their loved ones -- their pain and anguish are palpable. As I glanced through the names of the victims on the memorial, I thought of all the brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, husbands and wives, friends and lovers, who on that fateful day were left behind to mourn the empty space in their families.

Volcanic beauty - October 15-16, 2007

In recent years, Indonesia has had its share of natural disasters -- volcanic eruptions, floods, tsunamis, earthquakes. Splayed out along a major fault line, Indonesians have had to learn to live with their land's constant bubblings and grumblings, and far too often, the tragic aftermath of its violent explosions. In fact, just as I traveled through east Java, scientists put a nearby mountain on the highest possible alert for an imminent eruption and local authorities issued evacuation notices for residents on its slopes. Yet it's this very sub-terranean volatility that has produced some of the most haunting and breathtaking landscapes I've seen so far in my travels. And I was heading east to catch a glimpse of Java's beautiful fury.

***

My guidebook calls Mt. Bromo "nature's Borobudar." It certainly evoked a similar reaction as I walked up to the lip of the vast 10km Tenggera caldera and peered across the sand to the three volcanoes poised majestically in the centre. Two of the volcanoes looked relatively calm and benign, but an angry stream of white sulphur billowed out of Mt. Bromo's crater. This is an especially significant mountain for Hindus; every year, hundreds of locals come to the mountain to throw flowers, vegetables, chickens and even cows or buffalo into the crater to appease the mountain's spirits.



The next morning, I woke at 3 a.m. and trundled into the 4-wheel drive jeep, which then drove across the sandy desert and up Mt. Penanjakan -- the highest peak on the edge of the caldera to see the sunrise. As we snaked our way up the 2,770 metre mountain, I could see a long trail of lights following us as other tourists began making their way up to the lookout point. By the time I made my way to the viewing platform, there was already a crush of people but I somehow found myself in the front of the railing with a perfect view of the three volcanoes poking their way through clouds covering the caldera floor.

The wind was bitingly cold and the sand swirled into my eyes, but all the discomfort was forgotten as the sun slowly made its way up from the horizon to bathe the landscape in a purplish light. And as if to remind us weaklings of its dominance and power, the distant Mt. Semeru sent out several puffs of ash. It was an utterly magical and bewitching sight!





***

Shortly after descending Mt. Bromo, I decided to head about three hours east to visit the Ijen Plateau, the sight of yet another active volcano and the turquoise sulphuric lake of Kawan Ijen. I awoke at 5 a.m. and in the pink light of the sunrise, I sped along terraced paddy fields and coffee plantations on the back of a motorcycle (the best way to travel in my opinion).

Upon arriving at at the base of Mt. Ijen, it was a 1.5 hour grueling climb up the steep incline; I was passed several times by local men carrying on their shoulders two bamboo baskets filled with sulphur. When I finally reached the crater, I peaked over the edge -- the lake was more of an aquamarine colour but it was nonetheless spectacular and a little bit strangee. Out of the corner of the lake, furious plumes of sulphur jutted up through the air; the fumes were at times overwhelming.



And what I liked best was that unlike Mt. Bromo with its crowds of tourists, this was a relatively quiet spot. There were pockets of other people scattered around, but as I climbed around the ridge of the crater to see the expansive lake against the backdrop of the distant moutains, I was alone.

Java's Buddhist and Hindu icons - October 9, 2007

Indonesia is often referred to as the world's most populous Muslim nation, but just outside Yogyakarta in central Java, two of the country's most stunning temples -- Borobodur and Prambanan -- point to its illustrious Buddhist and Hindu past. Considered among the world's greatest religious monuments, it is no surprise they are also Indonesia's most popular tourist attractions.

My first stop was the Buddhist temple of Borobodur. As I walked through the parking lot and through the landscaped grounds, I could feel my anticipation grow as I peered through the trees that temporarily obscured the temple. Then, I turned a corner, and there it was -- looming out of the surrounding rice fields and palms was nine stories of rectangular and circular terraces, an enormous structure that was once the spiritual centre of Buddhism in Java in the 8th century AD.



Built from 2 million block lava stones, the sheer size was impressive enough. But as I got closer, I could see thousands of exquisitely carved bas-reliefs and statues -- elephants and lions, musicians and dancers, kings and peasants -- along the walls as well as hundreds of Buddha images (with their heads missing) sitting in latticed stupas. I could only imagine the number of workers and the hours of labour required to create this masterpiece!



I then headed off to the other side of Yogyakarta to visit the Hindu temple of Prambanan. I think my mouth gaped a bit as as I walked up to the eight shrines dedicated to the three Hindu gods - Vishnu, Shiva and Brahma.



Standing 50 metres high and covered in beautifully carved balustrades and sculptures, this complex is quite simply breathtaking. Unfortunately, in May 2006, an earthquake measuring 6.3 on the Richter scale almost completely destroyed Prambanan and restoration experts are still repairing the damage. We were able to walk around the outside perimeter but we were not allowed to enter the shrines; I could still see pieces of stone teetering at the tops of the shrines so it was still quite dangerous.

Needless to say, I was a bit disappointed, but a few days later, I returned to Prambanan to watch the famous Ramayana ballet at an open-air theatre. With the towers lit in the background, it was the perfect setting to watch 200 dancers in beautiful costumes re-enact the scenes of this ancient Hindu legend.

Finding the hidden gem in Jakarta - October 6-7, 2007

I have to admit that my first impressions of Jarkata weren't great. As I drive in from the airport, my view of the city is blurred by a thick layer of smog, and after the beauty and calm of Borneo, the relentless noise from honking motos and cars grates on me. Still limping from my hike up Mt. Kinabalu, I decide to spend my first evening partaking in the decadent services of my mid-range hotel which includes ordering room service, getting a one-hour in-room massage and catching up on my CSI episodes on the satellite TV!

The next day, I decide to venture out of the safe enclave of my hotel to see what this city of 8.75 million people offers. I take in a small national museum housing Javanese sculptures, batiks, ceramics and pottery and a somewhat ugly National Monument erected by Indonesian dictator Soekarno to mark the country's independence from the Dutch in 1949. It's amusing to browse through the collection of historical dioramas at the base of the monument, which depicts in great detail the glorious battles of Indonesian resistance against its colonial masters, yet makes no mention of Soekarno or Soeharto, the Indonesian dictators who ruled the country through much of the 20th century.

Here's a smoggy view of Jarkata's main mosque



Sightseeing can be a bit frustrating for pedestrians like me with haphazard sidewalks and non-existent crosswalks and traffic lights. And after my one-day of sightseeing, my impression of Jarkata remained somewhat negative; a typically Asian city - huge, polluted and busy -- but without the French colonial charm of Phnom Penh, the vibrant diversity of KL or the spectular temples of Bangkok.

Then, on my final night, I wandered a few blocks down from my hotel to see if I could find a cheap place to eat. I headed toward a street that during the day, was quiet but had a few vendors hawking their noodle soups from carts. By night, I was surprised to see it transformed into a lively night market with makeshift restaurants setting themselves up along the sidewalks and wandering minstrels serenading hapless diners for a few hundred rupiah. As I sat there chowing down my nasi goreng ayam (chicken fried rice) and watching the vibrant cacophony of families, courting couples and young children laughing and flitting in and out of stalls, I was glad to have gotten this glimpse of Jakarta, a tiny gem among the steel and concrete.

Ascending Borneo's crowning glory - October 4-5, 2007

It was a beautiful, clear day as I arrived at the base of Mt. Kinabalu and the view of its craggy limestone peaks with just a few puffs of white clouds clinging to its sides was spectacular. But instead of basking joyfully in the beauty of this 4,095 metre mountain, I felt a great trepidation and dread in the pit of my stomach. Apparently, Mt. Kinabulu is one of the easiest mountains to climb, but at that very moment, it may as well have been Mt. Everest!



It's also a bit of a rite of passage for tourists coming to Borneo -- every year, people of all shapes, sizes and ages attempt to climb the 8.75 kilometre path to the top so I knew in my heart that I couldn't leave without giving it a try as well. Luckily, I was joined by my KL friend Sugee and her brother Sujay so I knew at least I could commiserate with them over what I knew would be a painful journey.

We set off by 10 a.m. and within the first two kms, we were bathed in sweat. By the 4th km and after about a zillion stairs, I could feel the telltale twinge in my legs. Between the 5th and 6th km, we began to stop more frequently - supposedly to enjoy the view but really to get our breathing back to normal. By 5 p.m., we reached the 6th km marker and our destination for the night -- Laban Rata Resthouse would be where we would stop for the night, eat some dinner and rest our weary legs. By now, the air had becoming noticeably harder to breath, and a pleasant cold mist drifted around us.

During dinner, the mist suddenly cleared and we were treated to this beautiful sunset - apparently, at this time of year, the mountain is often bathed in clouds; the Laban Rata staff told us that it had been three weeks since they had seen a sunset like this. There was a clattering of utensils and scraping of chairs as we all rushed outside to take photos.



Then it was up to our rooms for a short nap, and we were up by 12:30 a.m. to begin the second part of the climb and to reach the summit for sunrise. We had only 2.75 kms to go but other travellers had told me this was the hardest part of the journey. They were right - it was absolutely gruelling work scrabbling over sheer rock using ropes to haul you over some scary inclines. Breathing became quite difficult and I had to stop every 100 metres or so.

Unfortunately, about 200 metres into the climb, Sugee came down with altitude sickness and had to go back. Then, Sujay began having breathing problems and for safety reasons, decided to return as well. So for most of my struggles up the last 2 kms, I was on my own. There is no adequate way of describing that feeling of sitting on the rocky face in the dark by myself, the wind whipping around me and trying to conjure up whatever energy was left in my body to get to the summit.

The last 90 metres was sheer hell - the peak was just in front of me but I was completely drained. By this time, two other hikers caught up with me and began encouraging me to keep going. By this time, I could barely feel my arms and as I pulled myself up the last 10 metres, I had thoughts of letting go of the rope out of sheer exhaustion but I finally hauled myself over the lip and flopped down right on the summit. A round of high-fives were exchanged with the 6 or so who were already there and we sat in the bitter cold to wait for the sun to peak over the ridge.

If I look stunned in this photo, it's because I was! The jagged peaks surrounding the summit were especially evocative in the cold light of the sunrise, but I was almost too exhausted to enjoy it...





The journey down the mountain was equally hard - going down hundreds (thousands?) of stairs does a number on your knees, calves and quads and by the last kilometer, my ankles began to waver with each step. Four days later, and I am still having difficulty walking down stairs! But despite the pain, I'm glad that I climbed Mt. Kinabalu and that I made it to the summit.

A turtle moment - September 30, 2007

Off the eastern coast of Borneo lies the tiny island of Sipadan. Measuring no more than 12 hectares, this unassuming looking island hides its treasures below the surface of the water. Located in one of the world's richest marine habitats, Sipadan forms the pinnacle of an ancient volcano that rises 600 metres from the ocean bed. The sheer underwater cliffs and the diversity of rare fish, sharks, manta rays and turtles have resulted in Sipadan becoming one of the top diving destinations in the world. There's even an underwater turtle graveyard, a vast cavern 20 metres under the sea where you can see the skeletal remains of turtles who lost their way at night and drowned!

Well, I don't have my diving license, but I decided to head there any way to see if I could catch a glimpse of these elusive creatures as a snorkeller. Snorkelling is one of my all-time favourite activities; surrounded by an eerie silence and gliding through a school of iridescence and vivid colours, I get to play for a few hours in a breathtakingly beautiful, alien world that seems to tolerate (or ignore) me as I paddle by. I've gone on many snorkelling trips over the years, and the life under the sea never fails to amaze and surprise me.

But now that I've snorkelled at Sipadan, the stakes have been raised! Along with the huge number of new and exotic fish species, I was absolutely thrilled to see a baby shark bob along the edge of the cliff wall. Minutes later, a large greenback sea turtle measuring two metres across floated by me.

I then realized that I was surrounded by turtles -- looming suddenly out of the dark water, these graceful animals floated nonchalantly around me, some passing underneath me, others veering off to my right or left. I looked in front of me and saw the knobby head of a turtle heading straight for me. As he turned at the last minute, I looked deep into his shining black eyes. What was he thinking? I like to imagine that he deliberately came up to me to check me out, and our "moment" was him accepting me into his world. Okay maybe not, but I still felt honoured and privileged to be in his presence.

Unfortunately, I don't have an underwater camera so I was not able to capture these amazing creatures. Here's a photo of our "crew" after a full day of snorkelling and diving, and the gorgeous sunset as we returned to the mainland.

A glimpse of Borneo's creatures -- September 26-28, 2007

As much as I loved seeing the orangutans at the Sepilok Rehabilitation Centre, there is nothing like seeing a wild orangutan in the jungle. Unfortunately, much of Borneo's wilderness is quickly falling prey to vast palm plantations so many of its treasured animals -- such as the orangutans, rhino and elephants -- are endangered. One area that continues to house a wide variety of wildlife is the Kinabatagan River and consequently, has become a popular tourist destination.

With the exception of the cheeky macaques who often sneak up on distracted visitors to steal food right from their hands, the animals of Borneo are justifiably wary of humans and can be difficult to see with untrained eyes. That's why I decided to put myself in the hands of the expert guides at Uncle Tan's, a rustic camping outfit on the Kinabatagan River. The facilities were basic (bucket showers, thin mattresses with mosquito nets) but the staff were professional, friendly and evidently well trained to spot Borneo's shy wildlife.

During my stay at Uncle Tan's, I embarked on several treks through the jungle as well as river safaris, including one memorable night ride in an open skiff during a torrential rain storm. This photo shows the gathering clouds just before it hit.



In some cases, the wildlife came right into the camp so we got to see bearded pigs, civet cats and monitor lizards up close and personal. I was disappointed that the area's elephants were 50 miles downriver from Uncle Tan's, but I more than thrilled to see crocodiles, proboscis monkeys, silvered langurs, otters, hornbills, Brahminy kites and, on our last day, a wild orangutan high up in the trees near the camp.

One of the most popular activities was the night trek into the jungle to view nocturnal animals. Along with rare frogs, birds and a newly discovered tarantula species, we met up with this enormous scorpion. According to our guide, it is safe to allow it to walk onto your hand but we were warned not to grab it from above as the venom is sprayed from its back. Needless to say, I was still a bit wary!



While the organized activities were great, my favourite moments at Uncle Tan's was during our free time where we were able to walk along the jungle paths on our own. During these solitary jaunts, I could feel the jungle pulse with life around me - birds chirping away in exotic song, cicadas and crickets calling out to each other, the grunts of hidden primates calling out warnings of my presence. I could almost feel hundreds of little (or big) eyes peering at me from behind the dense jungle walls.

Borneo's jungle kings -- September 25, 2007

Location: Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Center, Eastern Borneo - the world's largest rescue center for orphaned orangutans.

Time: 9:45 a.m., 15 minutes before the daily morning feeding

Scene: About 50 tourists armed with cameras and politely jostling each other for prime position along the railing to see this iconic primate of Borneo. We peer eagerly into the trees for a glimpse of the telltale ginger fur amongst the greenery.



All of a sudden, a large male orangutan lopes along the edge of the railing toward the feeding deck. We all rear back in delighted surprise and the sound of clicking digital cameras ensues. Elbows become a little bit sharper as we rush in to get the perfect "National Geographic" shot.



Then the metal cables running up to the feeding deck begin to sway wildly, and soon, about 10 orangutans of all shapes, sizes and facial features swing into view. These particular primates are slowly being weaned off the hands-on feeding and emotional attachment to humans that characterize their early years at the center in the hopes they can be eventually released back into the wild. These are the "in-between" orangutans who now live in the jungle behind the center but still need to come back for the additional fruit, milk and multi-vitamins.











These beautiful and human-like creatures (they share 96.4% of our DNA) used to rule the jungle's tree tops across Southeast Asia and into southern China, but are now relegated to Borneo and Sumatra. Numbered at 50,000 in Borneo, orangutans are highly endangered as more and more of their natural habitat is cleared for palm oil plantations. While it is thrilling to see the orangutans up close at the Sepilok Rehabilitation Center, it is sad that such a facility is even needed here in Borneo.