I just got back from three days in the Bornean jungle. A lot of people come here to see the wildlife, particularly the orang-utans, but the problem in doing this is it can drain your wallet. I was left wondering if there was an option without the razmataz that comes with so many expensive tours, and found out about Uncle Tan, a tour operator that runs a camp by the river in the middle of the jungle.
Before going on the tour, there’s a bit of paperwork to sign. It’s not pages of T&Cs, just one sheet of paper that gets to the point. The first thing they make clear is that “this is not a resort, spa or theme park”, probably because of people coming here expecting luxury for the price. It is a good price; 478 MYR (Less than a hundred quid) for two nights, all inclusive, so it is basic. The huts have no door, are shared and have no ensuite bathroom, the toilet is a little stroll away and sometimes has ants in it, and there has recently been flooding so the boardwalks are a bit damp. But the food is excellent and freshly cooked, the matresses are soft and come with mozzie nets, and the toilet has a lid plus paper (most in Malaysia are squat toilets, and that hose is there for you). If you can survive a camping trip, this will be a walk in the park. We somehow didn’t see any snakes, and the chances of being eaten by a tiger are dying-from-thirst slim.
We pass through a flooded village where the boat waits for us, and villagers are playing water-volleyball and waving to us. We set off up the river towards the camp with a sense of excitement. The scenery on the way here was mostly palm oil plantations, ugly rows of trees that have decimated the jungle here. But now, we’ve reached the “real” Borneo.
We go on several boat rides and hikes, one of each at night. Time and time again, Em, our guide, makes me think “how on earth did he see that?”. We’ve come at an unfortunate time, as the floods mean that the animals can drink without leaving the bushes, so are hiding away. Nevertheless, it’s a successful trip; we spot bird upon bird upon bird, including owls and hornbills, and large groups of monkeys. At night, we see a crocodile’s eyes (they reflect the shine of the torchlight) and a giant weasel-cat called a civet. We’re still a little under-satisfied though. We haven’t seen any orang-utans (intro unncessary) or proboscis monkeys, one that has a huge nose and beer belly. I kid you not, evolution got this high.
Two of our group of five have to lave early, and it’s after they do that our luck starts to turn. We decide to go for the optional activity of fishing for catfish – it’s either that or five hours of Uno. We catch seven in total, and it makes the best meal of the tour in the evening.
Afterwards, we have an evening safari. We finally get proboscis monkeys, including babies. They’re camped out next to a group of macaques, common monkeys that we’ve seen all the time, so it’s refreshing to find something new. They stare at me, thinking “we were wrong, there are stranger things than us”.
The night walk is pitch black, and we use flashlights to get around. Mosquitos swarm us, and I have to put on heavy duty repellent that almost gives me a burn. It can apparently hurt snsitive skin for that reason. The guides speak excellent English, though there can sometimes be a language barrier. I ask the guide if it would be okay for me to “go behind a bush”. “Come again?” “Take a leak?” “Eh?”
Once I become un-metaphorical, he understands. It’s at this moment that I learn the hard way not to do this when I’ve still got repellent on my hands.
I have already seen an orang-utan, just a silhouette in the bushes, and so did Em, but the two in my group did not just because of where they were seated in the boat. I really want them to see one so that we can share in the moment, but no luck. However, something even more amazing happens on the way to the night safari when, with the sun setting, giant bats start to fly out across the river. They come slowly, and are spread out, which would make for the most romantic boat ride ever if I wasn’t sitting there ruining the view.
The last day comes and we say our goodbyes. As we are riding back to the village, the guide suddenly turns towards the shore. Because of a slight lack of animals, the guides have sometimes shown us the macaques up close as a kind of plan B, so I presume this is another case. When I ask, the guide says “no, orang-utan”. This time, my two friends see it and I see its head and orange fur, shaking the tree. It’s a classic “just when all hope seemed lost” tale, and I can finally banter about this awesome experience to them without feeling like a jerk.
