Paradise Found: Togean Islands, Sulawesi

We found paradise on the Togean Islands, a small archipelago in the Gulf of Tomini about 13 hours south of Sulawesi's north peninsula.  Coconut palms, sandy beaches, rustic bungalows and colorful coral kept us captive as we slowly whiled away three weeks on various resorts around the islands.  Our hammocks and kindles combined with cool breezes, stunning sunsets and turquoise waters kept us company, as well as the flock of tourists that came to spend their European holidays in this tropical oasis.

The long slog to the islands started with our attempt to get from Tentena to Ampana, a transit town in the south of the bay where the ferries to the islands depart.  We caught our first ride with a truck from Tentana to Poso.  We shared the truck bed with some women who were terribly sick from the winding roads as their husbands sat in the cab chain smoking kretek cigarettes.  Amanda caught a sample of one of the women's breakfast in the face as we were stopping to hop out of the truck.  A quick ATM stop and a moto ride into the "bus station" of Poso brought us face to face the transport mafia.  Moto drivers and other transport touts had corralled a crowd of tourists at a station devoid of buses to pressure them to take their private transport to Ampana.  Unfortunately this is a common hustle in Sulawesi and we decided to decline their services, although all of the other tourists agreed to shoehorn themselves into a minuscule van for over double the normal cost of a private car.  We walked up the road to try to flag another ride and got invited into the house of a banker who offered us some Fanta and assorted treats left over from the recent Ramadan celebrations.  He stood with us on the side of the road as we tried to flag a ride onward.  We finally found ourselves in a seemingly well-to-do families SUV who had driven all the way from Makassar early that morning.  They called all their friends and talked to them for about an hour about the boleh they had picked up and asking them advice on how much to charge us for the ride.  It was awkward, but it got us to Ampana relatively fast.

After a couple nights in Ampana gearing up for the Togeans (the islands don't have any ATMs or shops so you must be prepared to bring in anything extra that you need) we caught the ferry to Poya Lisa, a tiny island no larger than a football field.  The resort was across from the small village of Bomba, which is on one of the larger islands in the Togeans.  Poya Lisa resort has about 12 bungalows scattered around the beaches and coral cliffs at various price ranges and comfort levels.  We opted for one tucked back on a cliff with a view of the expansive turquoise sea that stretched out to the volcanic island of Una Una and beyond.  We slung our hammocks on the balcony and for $25 a day had three meals, a sunset snack, unlimited tea and coffee and a bed in our rustic bungalow in paradise.  That's $25 for both of us.  We stayed 11 nights.

During that time we took two snorkel trips out to Bomba atoll and Taupan Islands, both of which had beautiful, vibrant coral reefs teeming with colorful tropical fish.  We saw parrot fish, clown fish, angel fish, puffer fish, barracuda, trumpet fish and many more varieties that we could not name.  The coral was spectacular, with so many different shapes, sizes, colors and textures adorning the various anemones, sea cucumbers, starfish, and urchins clinging to and lurking underneath the coral it boggled the mind.

We also spent some time tooling around the island on a small outrigger boat that was best suited for one Indonesian child.  Our combined weight made the boat ride quite low in the water.  Throwing caution to the wind, one day we attempted to take it around the small island.  After getting around the point and into the open sea we immediately realized we were doomed.  The waves were too big for our low riding vessel and came sweeping into the boat at an alarming rate.  We looked for something to bail with and after coming up short tried scooping the water out with our hands.  We had to abandon ship as it slowly sunk under the pressure of the waves.  Our hearts were racing as we pushed and pulled the half submerged boat back around the island, trying not to get too close to the sharp coral cliffs as we rounded the point to safety.  In the end all was well.  The only loss being Amanda's hair tie and a small piece of our dignity.  The whole situation definitely help complete the Robinson Crusoe experience.

We also took some motorbikes around Batu Daka, the main island in the south of the Togeans.  We passed through coconut plantations, cocoa trees and tiny villages on roughly paved roads.  We ended up at the top of a incredibly steep road that went down to an old jetty that was being rebuilt.  After parking our bikes at the top we carefully walked down to a bustling beach.  We had some stunted conversations in Bahasa Indonesia with one of the many guys loitering about in the shade and watched the men and women work as the children splashed about in their outrigger boats.

While at Poya Lisa Colin's permanent retainer broke, so we decided to take a trip back to Ampana to get it fixed.  There are also no public boats between Bomba and the rest of the Togean's, so we either had to go back to go onward or charter a boat, which typically is not our style.  Going to a practitioner of the dental arts in such a backwater of the world is a bit scary, especially when coming they are coming at your face with a drill, but in the end she was very professional and did a decent job.  It was a little strange when she left the job half finished so she could go to the mosque and pray, however.

While back in Ampana we met Ulfa, aka "Mrs. Harbor", a woman who works at the tourist office and is quite the character.  She gave us a free ride into town and offered to find us a dentist.  When she dropped by our guesthouse unannounced the next day and we told her we had already taken care of it she switched gears and decided to take us to the hospital to meet a pregnant family member.  We didn't have much to do, so we went along with it.  Amanda was lead through the maternity wards touching bellies and meeting new mothers as Colin waited outside with the nervous soon to be fathers.  Later that day we ran into her again and before we knew it we were drinking arak in her tiny room in the tourist office with the karaoke blasting on her small TV.  She ended up taking us to a beach side karaoke joint where we sang The Beatles "All You Need is Love", after which we were quickly ushered off the mic and back to the hospital to meet the newborn baby.  It was a very strange, but interesting encounter in small town Indonesia.

Heading back to the islands we took a long and scenic ferry ride out to Malenge village, in the northern part of the Togean archipelago.  Upon arriving in Malenge village we were rapidly whisked into a small boat to Malenge Indah cottages on the other side of the island as the sun set over very rough waters.  The white sand beach was picture perfect with palm trees jutting out over the water and only 5 cottages, which made it feel more like a private paradise.  Malenge island is known for it's hiking trails and wildlife so we went for a jungle amble, winding up on another deserted beach home to many hermit crabs.  We didn't catch any glimpses of the famous horn bills or tarsiers (aside from the illegally captured horn bill that had it's wings clipped thereby forcing it to spend it's flightless life near the dock), but we did see the tail end of a giant monitor lizard as he quickly scampered through the bush.

After a few days boating, lounging, eating coconuts, and watching the ants take over our hammocks (we saw them make a fully supported ant ladder made of ants - incredible!), we decided to change scenes and move to another resort.  Malenge Lestari had a deep lagoon on one side and a nice beach with the perfect dock for jumping into the water and swimming on the other.  Across from the beach was a Bajau village which was connected to the main island by an extremely long wooden bridge that was broken in many places.  The houses were built on stilts and clustered around a couple large rocks that stood tall in the sea.  The setting was yet another tropical paradise in this large archipelago.

There was a great group of people staying at Lestari and we had many late nights sitting around beach bonfires fueled by arak, music and a starry sky that you couldn't take your eyes off of.  We swam, read, played a very exciting but intense game of volleyball with a bunch of local guys from a nearby village, tried our hand at fishing and tooled around on the canoe.  We paddled over to the Bajao village across the bay which was incredibly interesting.  The Bajao people are sea gypsy that continue to live a nomadic maritime lifestyle around Southeast Asia. 

We decided to leave Lestari after some awkward situations between the owner and his main employee.  We took a small boat across the open water to the next island, Walae Kodi, and stayed one night at Sifa cottages, which was situated on yet another beautiful beach.  Tall palms reached into the bright blue sky and hammocks were slung all over the yard.  Sifa herself was an incredibly nice owner and took good care of her guests.  We stayed at her homestay in Malenge village to catch a very early 6am ferry to Wakai, the capital of the Togeans, where we could catch the boat to Gorontalo on mainland Sulawesi later that day.  As relaxing and entrancing as the Togeans were, we decided it was time to get back to the real world Indonesia and eat something other than fish. 

The locals getting comfortable on the boat from Ampana to Bomba.

There was a lot of this going on in the Togeans.  Colin gets comfortable in his hammock at Poya Lisa.

A fishing boat illuminated at sunset, Poya Lisa island.

Taking an outrigger boat to the Bomba atoll for some snorkeling.

Cruising around Batu Daka (the main island across from Poya Lisa) Colin and Phillipe think twice before bringing the motorbikes down this incredibly steep hill.

At the bottom of the hill we found men hard at work building a new jetty, boys fishing and playing and women cooking and gathering forest products.

Poya Lisa Island.  All the food and water was cooked in Bomba and brought to the small island by outrigger boat.

Watching sunset was a very serious activity on the Togeans - Poya Lisa.

Back in Ampana we took the Puspita Sari to Malenge village, a 7 hour boat ride.

Arriving in Malenge village we were quickly taken to Malenge Indah resort on this small boat.  As we were rounding the island the sun was setting and the waves were incredibly choppy.  Amanda suffered a small heart attack.

Basking in the last rays of sun at Malenge Indah resort.

Two of the last "basic" huts at Malenge Indah (ours on the right), which were torn down shortly after we left in the name of development.

Taking the canoe around the headland to explore some other beaches.

We found this crazy hermit crab with a strange choice of home.

Colin helps himself to a mid-day snack

A picture perfect sunset in paradise.

Colin dives off the jetty at Lestari resort, Melange, with the Bajau village int eh background.

A lone house on the long wooden bridge between Melange and the Bajau village.

A young boy playing in his small dugout canoe, Bajau village, Malenge.

On our way to the village for a very intense game of volleyball with the locals there were many children who were excited to get their photo taken.  This girl was particularly sweet.

The lagoon on the backside of Lestari resort.  There were a lot of schools of fish lurking around the dock.

Colin takes the dugout canoe around the bay, hoping to catch some fish.

The jetty at Lestari before a storm.

Palm trees and bungalows at Sifa cottages on Wailea Kodi island.

Our last night in paradise, Sifa Cottages.

Killing some time in Wakai before the ferry to Gorontalo we see cocoa fermenting in the sun.

Stopping to watch this kid fish with a small bit of banana on a fishing line, Wakai.  

Southern Sulawesi: Mysterious Tanah Toraja to Going Batty in Tentena

Returning to Indonesia after almost three years was like seeing an old friend you had lost touch with for a bit.  At first we were a little shell shocked getting back into the swing of a more bustling and hectic country after the relative calm of Malaysia, but very quickly we were used to each other again and it was like old times.  We arrived in the airport in Makassar at a reasonable time and were helped onto a bus into the city by an extremely helpful and friendly guy of about our age, who is blind and teaches blind students English and how to use computers at a school in the city.  It was amazing how well he knew his way around.  He ended up getting off of the bus with us and walking us to a cross-street so we could find a place to stay in the sprawling metropolis.  Big Asian cities aren’t exactly our thing, so we set out on a journey full of misadventures towards Rantepao, the central tourist hub of Tanah Toraja.  We ended up getting stuck for a night in Pare Pare, a seaside town that sees very few tourists.  We spent some time chatting with locals in an attempt to learn a bit of Bahasa Indonesia and checked out the very lively Pasar Ramadan that sold all sorts of sundries and some food.  Colin managed to find a pair of shorts that were “Proudly made in America”, then apparently donated by someone, wound up for sale in a market in this out of the way corner of the world, and were finally purchased by another American.  Globalization is weird.  After some finagling we found another public car to cram into with eight Indonesian folds and shot off up into the mountains of Toraja.

Tana Toraja is known for its unique funerary practices and we just happened to arrive in the hot season for burials.  It also happens to be one of the most beautiful landscapes that we have seen anywhere in the world, sitting high up in the mountainous spine of central South Sulawesi.  Although Rantepao is a typical Asian city with loads of car and motorbike traffic spewing fumes and buzzing you as you navigate the streets without sidewalks, the surrounding area is full of quaint villages of traditional houses, called tonkonan, sitting on the outskirts of ripe rice fields and flanked by jutting escarpments of limestone hills.  We balanced our days chatting with the owners of our homestay in Rantepao about the local culture while polishing our language skills and going for walks in the countryside.  Everyone we met was exceedingly friendly and the peeks of everyday farming life were thought provoking and a delight to perceive.  We eventually met some other foreigners (people in Indonesia assume that all foreigners are “friends”, which seems a little strange at first, but when you think about how much travelers talk to each other and how quickly you get friendly with people you meet for only a short time, it makes sense) that told us about a nice hike to do in the far north of Toraja and we headed out the next day.

We first walked across the main valley of Toraja that is made up of a huge flat area full of rice paddy that eventually reaches the first outlying limestone cliffs of the high lands.  We had a short detour to the top of the highest of the jutting limestone cliffs, since we continually asked for directions to Lalimanauk, which we thought was the name of a town.  It turns out that it means the “crest of a rooster” and apparently this rock looked like one, so everyone diligently pointed us up the steepest path in the area.  At least there was a fantastic view of our progress of that day so far, which we shared with some kids who had climbed up to fly their homemade kites in the strong breezes.  After sorting out the directions, we continued on through fields with a steadily increasing ratio of rocks to open farm land and small hamlets of tonkonon adorned with the buffalo horns cut from animals sacrificed for burials of loved ones. The more horns a tonkonon has, the more prestige the family has acquired through the ritualistic gifting of buffalo meat at a funeral ceremony.  Just as light was failing we slogged across our last bit of paddy and ascended the final hill to Batutumonga.

We stayed in a homestay there and in the morning decided to climb Gunung Sesean, the highest peak in the vicinity.  It was a rewarding walk through forest, goat pasture, and finally wild moss and fern strewn high country in the heavy mists at cloud line.  We were only able to get short peek-a-boo views from the summit, but the climb and small glimpses were worth it.  Next day we headed across country towards Pangala and another homestay there.  We walked most of the day, except for one stretch where a truck driver shepherded us into the back of his pickup, amidst caravans of locals dressed in black zooming back and forth along the road.  There were also many motorbikes laden with large pigs headed in the same direction as us and bloody bags of meat headed in the opposite direction.  Some local folks told us that there was a very large funeral going on in a town that we would pass through on our way and these were the tell tale signs of it.

We could see the large temporary structures of lashed and woven bamboo rising three stories from the hilltop they were planted on as well as hear the clamor of a large group of people long before we arrived at the funeral.  Pausing just outside of the festivities to buy some sugar and cigarettes for the hosts (the tourist office in Rantepao told us that this is what we should bring, although these are terrible commodities for health and Indonesians are addicted to both on a grand scale) we met one of the grandsons of the deceased and he invited us in.  The first sight we saw as we went towards the family seating area was a large buffalo getting its throat slashed open with a large machete.  It took some swipes before the blood began to flow, but once it did it gushed for some minutes until the large black beast finally went down to its knees.  It was a difficult sight to see, but the locals didn’t seem fazed, and in some way it is appropriate to see death at a funeral.  We were brought up to one of the viewing platforms and chatted with some of the family as they offered us many sweets and also a large selection of food, freshly slaughtered and cooked pork, vegetables, and rice from the surrounding fields.  In the background guests arrived and did a circuit around the grounds before being received formally by the family and offered gifts.  Then they would form a circle on the grounds and sing wordless songs for the dead.  All the while the buffalo that was killed when we first arrived was being hacked apart with machetes and axes.  There was also a church service complete with singing of psalms and a minister giving a speech in full priestly attire.  The deceased was apparently a very rich man, who made his fortune in Papua, and this was supposed to be the largest funeral ever in Tanah Toraja; the family was going to kill 111 buffalo, plus all of the animals that guests would bring, as well as an undefined number of pigs, but more than the buffalo.  It was an extremely interesting experience to have and I won’t soon forget the hospitality of the family, or the flamboyance of the rites.

In the afternoon rain we eventually reached Pangala, where we spent some days hiking in the surrounding hills.  We were enveloped in a cloud for most of the time we were there.  It fomented an interesting feeling of unreality to be hiking along small foot paths in the fog with the soaring gables of tonkonon or effigies of the dead seated atop their mausoleums appearing out of the mist and then receding again just as suddenly.  We eventually had to head back down to the lowerlands around Rantepao, so we set out in the sun to walk the many miles down to the city.  As we neared a pass in the mountains it began to rain and although we hid out for some time in a small warung drinking coffee and trying to wait it out, we eventually had to give up and head back out into the deluge.  After some time trudging through the rain, an open bedded truck came speeding by and we hitched a ride standing up in back singing songs about sunshine as the driver bumped his way along the rutted road and the rain whipped our faces.

We eventually left the mysterious land of Toraja on an "AC" bus that was too cheap to actually turn on the AC.  It was a long ride, especially since we were told that the bus would leave at 7:30am and we actually left around 11:00am.  The small windows left little room for fresh air as the obnoxious Indonesian kids in front of us chain smoked.  The bus slowly wound through the mountains of central Sulawesi through cocoa plantations, potholes and ramshackle houses.  We finally made it to Pendolo around dusk, finding a perfect cottage situated right on the beach of Danau Poso, Indonesia's third largest lake.  Pendolo is a sleepy, small
Indonesian town set along the main north/south Sulawesi highway (which is not much more than a two lane road).  The large lake was nestled around mountains to the south and west and had a very nice beach with crystal clear water for swimming.  We spent our time relaxing in our hammocks, swimming and appreciating small town Indonesia as the days quickly slipped by. 

Although Pendolo was our small piece of paradise, we eventually moved north to Tentena which is on the north side of Danau Poso. We ended up traveling on the last day of Ramadan, which made it almost impossible to find public transportation.  We decided we would hitchhike and eventually got picked up by a couple of giggly girls from Makassar and their male driver. They drove us part way, where we had to find another ride the rest of the way.  After a horrible lunch of packet noodle and several hours waiting by the roadside we caught another ride in the bed of a truck for the final hour.  We almost made it without any difficulty (it was sometimes a challenge to keep our lunch down on the winding roads) until it started to pour cats and dogs as we were pulling into Tentena.  We were soaked to the bone by the time we found our homestay, but we had made it!

We rented a motorbike in Tentena to cruise the countryside, visit a waterfall and check out some beaches. Tentena itself is nothing to write home about, but once outside the ramshackle town we got beautiful vistas of the lake and the rice fields surrounding it.  We took a very small, rutted road past a Balinese village to the waterfall, which was full of domestic tourists screaming "Hello Mister!" and wanting to take photos with us.  The waterfall was actually quite impressive with several different tiers of pools and water cascading over the rocks.  It was even overflowing into the path leading to the top. After the waterfall we decided to find some lunch and stopped at a small roadside warung where we found the owner absolutely delighted to see Western faces.  She was happily ushering us in, pinching and hugging Amanda and laughing as she spoke Bahasa Indonesia that we didn't understand.  She was out of chicken and fish, but had pork and some other items that looked like vegetables to be served with rice so we decided to give it a try.  She brought out several dishes overflowing with food, laughing and rambling as she prepared the meal.  After serving us, she told us the mysterious vegetable was actually bat, which is commonly eaten around Tentena.  The pork also turned out to be pork intestine. Colin, who tried both, preferred the bat to the intestines.  Amanda, after a few exploratory nibbles was happy to stick with the bamboo dish.  All in all, it was a hilarious situation that read a bit like a horror novel, but who can deny a smiling old lady even if she does serve bat?  We can't.

Traditional "tonkonan" at Kete Ke'su, a tourist village outside of Rantepao

Kete Ke'su is supposed to have some of the oldest tonkonan in Tanah Toraja

Poor buff ready for the slaughter.  Well, maybe not yet.  Since the buffalo are so important they are actually well taken care of until funeral day.

Behind the traditional village there are many hanging graves.  These remains were scattered about for the benefit of the tourist.

Colin tastes the local palm wine out of his palm.  Note the small thimble sized taster on the long stick.

Summit snap on Gunung Sesean.

Pigs and people flocked to the the giant funeral ceremony in Lempo.

The terraced rice paddy that surrounds all the villages in Tanah Toraja.

A man walks his harvest down the road.  If you look closely you can see the bloody carcass of an animal on the back of the motorbike on the right.

Mourners gather to sing songs to the dead at the funeral ceremony in Lempo.  Note the bloody mess on the platform behind them.

Stone graves on the walk towards Pangala.

The sleepy village of Pendolo.

Our little paradise on Danau Poso.

Air Terjung, the giant waterfall outside of Tentena

A meal to remember.  Bat, pork intestines and bamboo!

Hitchiking in style towards Poso.

Amanda left her "heart" in Indonesia three years ago, only to find it again at the local supermarket!  The best ice cream in town.

Upriver Sarawak and the Resource Barons

We left the comfort of Kuching and headed northeast towards Sibu, a large industrial town at the mouth of the Batang Rajang, Malaysia's longest river and a hub for transporting goods and forest products in and out of the upriver regions of Sarawak.  We took an express boat, which looks just like the fuselage from a 747 without any wings, from the wharf in Kuching, getting off the bus on a busy highway and trying to find the wharf as cars whizzed down the freeway.  The boat was extremely fast and the air-conditioning in the cabin was pretty brutal, we put on every layer we had and were still freezing.  We went up to the deck often to get a breath of fresh air and a look at the villages and countryside that we passed in route.

Sibu was hosting the annual Borneo Festival, which took place at the "biggest public square in Malaysia" (Malaysia is crazy about superlatives).  There were tents set up selling food and drinks that represented Borneo's various strictly demarcated ethnic groups, Chinese, Malay and "Tribal" - the Iban, Melanau, etc.  They also had a stage that held performances, but unfortunately not many of the ones we saw were particularly well practiced.  It was an interesting event to talk to locals, mingle with the crowds and try some of the various delicacies on offer.

Sibu also has a great central market that sells everything under the sun, but mostly produce and meats.  We met an extremely friendly Chinese guy who showed us the best konpia in town - konpia is Sibu's take on a bagel, small rounds of dough that are baked in a tandoori oven and sprinkled with sesame seeds.  We got to see the shop owner making them and tried them hot out of the oven, a delicious treat!  We also celebrated the 4th of July in Sibu.  We had a picnic in the park by the wharf with all the American food we could find: watermelon, BBQ'd meats, chips, beer, even coleslaw from KFC.  That night we went to the Borneo Festival and met a group of Iban guys who were big drinkers and constantly filled our glasses.  They both worked in the resource business, extracting trees and oil for a healthy paycheck.  It was interesting to talk to them and hear their stories about a topic that would continuously be top of mind as we made our way up river.

From Sibu we took an express boat up the Batang Rajang to Kapit, a 3 hour ride.  We passed many longhouses as we sat in the freezing air conditioned cabin as well as many logging yards. It was depressing to see all the resource extraction in the area and how it was taking its toll on the environment.  The muddy water was completely silted and we heard from many locals that the river no longer supports large fish, which many relied on for food in the recent past.  Sitting by the boat terminal in Kapit we watched the boats going upriver bringing boxes of instant noodles, soft drinks and disposal diapers, while all the boats going downriver were hauling logs, coal and other natural resources to the world market at an unsustainable pace.  Globalization is taking its toll everywhere in the world, even in the interior of a seemingly exotic and far off place like Borneo.  We met another American guy in Kapit who told us that Sarawak only has 3% of its primary forest left, where as the government tourist information centers say that it is 82% (we definitely lean towards believing the lower figure from what we saw).  The forest is also disappearing at a faster rate than anywhere else in the world.  It was disappointing to hear all this and see it firsthand in Kapit, Sibu and pretty much everywhere else in Borneo.  Palm plantations are springing up where they have cleared the forest as well as other non-native plantations which are quickly changing the environment.

We spent two days in Kapit trying to get a boat upriver to Belaga.  Unfortunately a dam, which is the largest in SE Asia, now controls the river and there was no way to navigate the dangerous Palagus Rapids upriver with the decrease in flow.  A couple months prior a boat crashed which was overloaded by about 200 people in those rapids, so we didn't want to take our chances.  The only other way upriver is via a rough road built to service the dam that we would have had to go three days out of our way to reach and then charter a private jeep to bump up, so we headed back downriver from Kapit.  This time we sat on top of the express boat, which was going about 70km/hour.  It was exciting to speed past all the longhouses, which look a lot more modern than the ones we saw in photos from the 1950's, being largely made of cement and with every family section sporting a satellite dish.

Passing through Sibu once more we quickly headed up north to Similajau National Park, which is famous for it's estuary crocodiles, turtles and dolphins.  We didn't see any of these exotic species but we had a relaxing week lounging on the beach, hiking around the jungle and reading engrossing beach books like The Matarese Circle and 2666.

Heading further north we went to Batu Niah and the Niah Caves, which is one of the largest caves in the world.  Niah Caves was inhabited by humans over 40,000 years ago so it was an exciting historical place, especially for the anthropologist in Colin.  We stayed a couple nights in the park in the hostel and hiked out to the caves.  Before we arrived we were interested in being able to sneak a peek at the environment that was able to support humans for such a staggeringly long time, but we learned in the small onsite museum that the environment has been constantly changing throughout the 40,000 years of continuous occupation.  During the last Ice-age it was far from the sea, since so much of the Earth’s water was locked up in the huge glacial sheets in the Northern and Southern Hemispheres, and had a temperate climate that supported many types of large mammals.  Borneo was also not an island at all, but connected to mainland Southeast Asia!  As the Earth warmed up the sea encroached on the cave and the ecosystem changed again, until it became like it is today, a tropical dipterocarp swamp about 15km from the South China Sea.  What is most interesting about these drastic changes is that humans were able to adapt to them all and thrive, for most of the time with simple stone tools and even without control of fire.  In today’s world Western tourists that we meet get all stressed out if there isn’t constant electricity to charge their iPads and hot showers in the tropics. 

We spent another night in Batu Niah, which was an interesting small town just outside of Niah Caves.  Since it was Ramadan there was a market set up selling all kinds of Malaysian foods which we had a great time sampling.  We then headed to Miri, which is very close to Brunei.  Miri was built on oil and continues the tradition with big trucks clogging the streets and a lack of sidewalks for pedestrians.  We spent a few days there waiting for our flight back to Kuala Lumpur.  One day we hiked up to Canada Hill, which is the first place they struck oil and the first oil well of Shell.  We found a very comfortable guesthouse where we were able to get all of our ducks in a row for the rest of the trip and relax a bit.  We even found a spot in the Central Market to get our last taste of one of the delicious stouts on offer in Sarawak (8%, yikes).  After another quick stop in Kuala Lumpur it was bye bye Malaysia and hello Indo.

Amanda tries to get into the spirit of Sibu by becoming its patron animal, the Swan.

Having a very American picnic lunch in the park in Sibu for the Fourth.  The only difference with at home was that a homeless Iban man came and chatted with us as we ate.

Some chickens awaiting the dinner plate in the Pasar Central in Sibu.  You can pick up dinner and the day's paper at the same time

Some well arrayed produce lined up in typical Malaysian style at the Pasar Seni, Sibu.

Konpia getting cooked up in Sibu.  The young guy on the right actually owns the joint and turns out massive numbers of these little beauties every day for a line up of locals.  Thanks for showing us Uncle Lim!

Some Express boats lined up in Kapit.

Sitting up top on an Express boat.  A much better option than the meat locker down below watching old Jean-Claud Van Damne movies from the '90s.

Giving flight a try on the beach in Similajau National Park (it didn't work).

We can still see you buddy.  A tortoise tries to hide in Niah National Park.

Niah Cave's gaping mouth was an awe inspiring sight.