What They Might Not Tell You In The Guide Books

Published August 2011

Over the past few years I've often found myself acting as unofficial trip advisor to friends and friends-of-friends visiting Kota Kinabalu for the first time. I've finally realised that I have a set number of practices as to places we visit together (if the person I'm with enjoys a drink, my life becomes easier tenfold) and bits of advice on where to go and what to do.

Bearing in mind that I am not exactly a Lonely Planet guide book, nor am I here to arrange sightseeing tours (you're capable, do it yourself) I decided to examine the most common little 'suggestions' I've often given to visitors in the past. These are only some of the main points I find myself repeating regularly. There are quite a few more but in an effort to keep today's column comfortably readable, I'll stick to three points:

ISLAND STUFF

When visiting any of the five islands (Manukan, Sapi, Sulug, Mamutik and Gaya) in Tunku Abdul Rahman Park always be mindful of times and days. For example, if you head over to to an island of your choice at around 9:30am on a normal working day, the chances are high that you will be able to grab a prime spot for sun-worshipping or a good table under the shade. You'll be in island bliss while the rest of the tourists are still working their way through the breakfast buffet lines at their respective hotels.

Granted there is no guarantee that these spots will be entirely free of sand flies, red ants or assorted other pests (I'm thinking of the two-legged variety) but at least you'll be able to grab a few hours of lazy fun before the hordes make their way over from the mainland. Also, the further you get from the jetty, the quieter it may be. But if you're lugging around an eskie or assorted lilos, it can work out to be quite the hike back to catch your boat.

Be aware that Sapi island is home to macaque monkeys; they've been known to make off with sunbathers' belongings so be vigilant – they seem to be attracted to shiny things and plastic bags. Keep clear of the resident monitor lizards who will head over to say hello especially if they smell food. Please resist the urge to get too close, or to feed them. This goes for the monkeys too.

While we're on the topic of islands, it is best to return to the mainland between 3pm to 4pm. No matter how sunny of a day it is, the winds tend to change and the boat ride back any later can become quite choppy.

FOOD STUFF

Seafood is another highlight for visitors to KK. At the risk of being blunt, don't assume that just because a shop or a restaurant appears 'simple' or basic that their prices will hover around rock bottom. This goes double for bars and pubs. When in doubt, ask. Unsure of standards? For the most part the general rule of thumb is very simply this: If the place is packed, the food is usually good. Do note that this may not necessarily apply to a bar that happens to serve food. But I'm sure you can figure that out for yourself.

If you're waiting for a table take the time to have a discreet look at what diners are tucking in to. If unsure, there is absolutely no harm in asking politely. I still do that on occasion, especially when trying out a restaurant or coffee shop for the first time. I've actually made a few friends that way, and was introduced to the best laksa I've ever had.

TRAFFIC STUFF

Yes. Traffic. Never, ever make the mistake of underestimating KK's traffic. You will end up suffering dearly. I have lost track of the number of times visitors from cities such as Kuala Lumpur, Jakarta and Bangkok have looked down their noses at me when I've told them to be aware of peak hour traffic in KK. “You don't know what a traffic jam is until you've been in one of ours,” is the generic, often sarcastically snorted reply.

True, but KK is unique in the sense that a trip that could take two minutes driving time may stretch up an hour sometimes. I am not making this up because I've been stuck in a crawl like this before. The days leading up to any one of our many religious celebrations and public holidays are usually manic as everyone tries to get their shopping out of the way. But there has been the odd day when traffic magically appears with no warning. I can't stress this enough, be prepared for anything. The roads in our city centre are not quite equipped to deal with the amount of vehicles heading (usually) into town while the number of car owners are increasing on a daily basis. Also, there is no excuse for inconsiderate drivers, of which we are stuffed to the brim with, so I won't even touch on this subject. I suspect, however, they don't help with the problems either.

If you've got a flight to catch or an appointment to keep, please find out more about the traffic situation in your area before you pick a time to head off.

These are the few that I can think of at the moment. As is with travel anywhere else, be aware of your surroundings, be polite, be respectful and keep an open mind. Sabah has its special moments and if you're too busy being judgemental or comparing it to other cities, you might just blink and miss something special.

That's Quite Enough

Published March 2011

In the past 3 months, I have been subjected to adverse racism. Now I appreciate that a large number of people have, at some point, been on the receiving end of taunts, jeers, or even sly comments or looks. However, I was one of those who honestly went through my time abroad and on my travels, fairly lucky in that respect. Perhaps I always managed to fly below the radar, perhaps I looked so unimportant that no one wanted to bother with me. Call me naive but whatever the case, I had, up to recently, cruised through life having never received so much as a raised eyebrow. But lately I've been exposed to lashings of racist and bigoted abuse, stemming from volatile hatred and anger.

A bit of a long story but I'll try my best to stick to the facts. I was headed home after dinner sometime in early December 2010. I entered the drive to my apartment complex and was making my way to my block when I noticed that there was a white Perodua MyVi (for the benefit of non-Malaysian residents, a small hatchback car) tailgating me, trying to swerve around either side of me to pass.

I wouldn't have minded letting this moron overtake, except that it was late, most residents were already home and many have a habit of parking their cars on one side of the road, turning it into a single lane passageway for the most part.

The driver of the little white wonder was becoming increasingly aggressive and I remember worrying that they were going to hit the back of my truck. I turned into my parking bay, thinking that the MyVi driver would be pleased he wasn't stuck behind me any longer and zoom off to glory, or into the nearest wall.

But no. The car turned in to the same bay area and stopped. I parked and got out of my truck, wondering what was up but also made no effort to show any curiosity. Instead I stopped at the entrance of my block, fumbling around in my bag for my keys and stalling for time, wanting to note down the license plate number to pass it to the management office in the morning. I looked up to see said driver charging over to me, clearly furious and incensed.

I would have taken this more seriously in any other situation, except for the fact that I knew this individual. A woman whom I've always thought to be bad news in every sense of the word.

This fine specimen of womanhood, let's call her L, started yelling at me for not letting her pass. A whiff of her rancid breath confirmed that she was intoxicated and had no business being behind the wheel of a car. To be honest I was amused at first by her unbalanced, wobbly gait and slurring rubbish but it got irritating very quickly. Soon after, a third party entered the scene - her boyfriend, who apparently lived in the block next to mine.

He tried to get her to calm down and walk away, but that only seemed to spur her on with regards to her volume and the type of abuse she was dishing out to me. From the little bits of conversation I caught between them, they had gotten into some sort of fight and she had driven over in a rage to confront him.

In hindsight I should have gone upstairs to my apartment to leave the ranting woman and her nervous looking boyfriend to sort their mess out. I should have realized it is impossible trying to reason with a drunk, disorderly loon. But I didn't think of that at the time and told the boyfriend off for letting L behave this way in a residential area, where a large portion of my neighbours are families with small children. I scolded him, saying that she was lucky she didn't hit me or anyone else.

It was then that she became clearly unhinged. I can actually still remember how ugly and contorted her face looked. Her previous name calling had exhausted her arsenal of insults to me, so she went low. Very, very low. “Sabah is not your home,” she screeched, shrill enough to do a banshee proud. “Go back to your own home, you (bleeping, bleeping) Indian. Get out of Sabah. This is not your place. You don't belong here.”

Of course I've removed the foul language but I think the gist is crystal clear. I encountered my very first racist, bigoted troglodyte.

I'm a Punjabi Sikh from Labuan – an island that's only a 20 minute flight away from Kota Kinabalu. My family arrived in Labuan in 1868, making us the oldest Sikh family in Malaysia according to our country's historians. While this deserves absolutely no special treatment or status, shouldn't this make me as Sabahan as the next person by now? My family's been here for 143 years. Isn't that long enough? Haven't we paid our dues already? I'm aware that I am a member of a minority race group in this country. But I won't apologize for it. And neither will I accept anyone's attempts to make me feel insecure about it.

As mentioned earlier, I've never been faced with racist and bigoted abuse like this before. I was unprepared with a response so I filmed her rampage using my mobile phone for evidence, until a good friend happened to call for something unrelated, heard the commotion, and advised me to head back to my place and distance myself from the situation.

The next day I had every intention of highlighting the events of the night before. I spoke to quite a few local friends, to gauge their comments and feedback. As Sabahans, they were shocked and disgusted. “We're not like that,” one friend vented, clearly frustrated. “It's ridiculous and she's giving us a bad name. We don't treat anyone that way, especially not one of our own.”

Now I've never wondered about L's own ethnic background as I honestly couldn't be bothered. If pressed I'd have to say that she looks as if she has a combination of Chinese, Filipino and Native ancestry but I am unable to confirm that.

Word had gotten back to L that I was being open about the events that transpired and she was not pleased. I guess that's only fair. I imagine it must be humiliating to be called a racist and a bigot in one fell swoop. So she responded in the only way she knew how: With more abuse.

The day before Chinese New Year I received a private message on Facebook from none other than L. This message was so nasty it could easily be interpreted as an open threat. I had a think about it, and responded stating that I was going to make a police report and that she should probably make one too. Unsurprisingly, I received more abuse.

It doesn't stop there. Remember that boyfriend who tried to calm her down? She instructed him to contact me on Facebook and he did - saying that I was going to get some sort of payback, that he could gain access to me any time and that there was a possible stalking in the future.

I responded asking him for his Visa details and how he was living in my country (I should have stated earlier that he is a Caucasian), to which he then apologized, claiming to wash his hands of it all and backed off very, very quickly.

I have a word to describe men like these. I'm sure you have one too.

From what I understand L is still on the rampage, flinging dirt and abuse in my general direction any chance she gets and is of course playing the racist card. As she digs herself deeper and deeper into a hole of malice, it's looking as though this woman has been able to get away with her behaviour. While this is not right, I guess the only thing I can do now is pity her for her ignorance, lack of education and small mindedness. I'm also left wondering about the state of her mental health.

From a very young age racism and bigotry drove me up the wall and around the bend. It is shameful, crass and cowardly. Even just thinking about it makes me livid. And if none of this bothers you, you should seriously be asking yourself why.

Road Trippin'

Published February 2008


The humble road trip. It's not just another vernacular expression but is truly an experience. Wikipedia defines the term as "a journey via automobile, sometimes unplanned or impromptu". 

I doubt that your daily errand-running or grocery shopping excursions qualify. However given the amount of time drivers spend stuck in traffic these days, one may as well have driven out of the city to do a little sightseeing. 

My interpretation of a road trip concurs heavily with the Wikipedia definition. Road trips that are planned on the day itself usually turn out to be the most memorable. And this is exactly what happened to me very recently. I woke up with an appetite for a little travel. A good drive was the order of the day and I was more than happy to give in to it. 
By the time I had packed a bag full of basic essentials and had secured a co-pilot for the last minute journey, what had begun as a general hankering for a day away from the city had festered into a gentle frenzy. It was time to say goodbye to Kota Kinabalu for a few hours.

I fetched the travel buddy from his place of residence, adjusted the iPod playlists accordingly, hooked the Hilux up with a full tank of gas, and we were on our way up to the Sabah highlands. Taking into account that Kinabalu Park is a World Heritage Site (as designated by UNESCO, making it Malaysia's first) and is less than a two hour drive from the capital city, it is no wonder that around 20,000 visitors make their way up there every month.

Located approximately 88 kilometers from Kota Kinabalu, we reached Kundasang roughly one and a half hours later. This is a town synonymous with anything pertaining to Mount Kinabalu as it is quite possibly the closest community area to the mountain itself, Kinabalu Park notwithstanding.
If you're in vicinity and passing through (say, en route to or from the Poring Hot Springs, Ranau or even Sandakan) you'd be hard pressed to miss the small "tamu" or roadside stalls which offer fresh local vegetable produce, honey, plants, souvenirs and the like. 

The reason why you'd be made aware of these stalls is due to the large number of tour buses parked alongside them waiting for tourists to make their purchases. A good thing for the local economy, but a little vexing for drivers navigating the traffic, especially along particularly tight  stretches of road. 

What made this trip truly unique for us was the unusually adverse wind conditions we encountered as soon as we reached the town. Granted Kundasang is around 1,500 meters above sea level but this was something new even for the locals, who by the looks of things appeared to be having a little difficulty acclimatizing to the gusts themselves.

We turned off at the Kundasang stalls and drove for another ten minutes until we reached the Mesilau Nature Resort for lunch. Mesilau is an ecofriendly vacation stay complete with chalets, an abundance of greenery and for those seeking an alternative approach to summiting Mount Kinabalu, the Mesilau Trail for climbers. 

Located at around 2,000 meters above sea level this is quite possibly the highest resort in and around the Kundasang valley and the surrounding range. Taking that into account, the winds became slightly more volatile, slamming into us from different directions and disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. I suppose that given the current weather conditions around South East Asia at the moment this should have been expected.

The best thing about these winds is that they made the eastern ridge of Mount Kinabalu visible, something I had never seen up close. The mountain itself was heavily shrouded but just being able to view these rocky, rugged side peaks made this road trip all that much more rewarding.

After lunch and a long, lazy caffeine induced verbal acclamation of the very welcome drop in temperature - we guesstimated around 18 degrees Celsius given the wind chill factor - we drove back to Kundasang town and spent a good half an hour taking note of ubiquitous motels, lodges and chalets in the vicinity, all with something different to offer. 
The Kinabalu Pine Resort for example, has been a consistent industry leader for its category with numerous awards under its belt. We also noticed that there were a few up-and-coming developments currently under construction. 
There were sadly a couple that were bordering on dilapidation. A disappointing fact given the amazing vistas that are everywhere you look.

Our journey back down was pleasant enough and uneventful except for the antics of a driver of a large bus who was firmly in an F-1 state of mind. His lane-cutting tactics around blind corners had me nervous as I expected the inevitable oncoming accident from the opposite lane. Thankfully nothing of the sort happened and after overtaking a succession of cars the bus sped off, no doubt to terrify the occupants of other vehicles further along. 

We got back to the city after dark and drove straight into a heavy rainstorm which gravitated us towards a lovely steamboat dinner, to warm the bones. 
A perfect way to end a truly memorable day. Road trips are definitely the way to go. We're planning our next one already.

Road Trippin'

Road Trippin' - Published November 2007

The humble road trip. It's not just another vernacular expression but is truly an experience. Wikipedia defines the term as "a journey via automobile, sometimes unplanned or impromptu".

I doubt that your daily errand-running or grocery shopping excursions qualify. However given the amount of time drivers spend stuck in traffic these days, one may as well have driven out of the city to do a little sightseeing.

My interpretation of a road trip concurs heavily with the Wikipedia definition. Road trips that are planned on the day itself usually turn out to be the most memorable. And this is exactly what happened on Monday morning. I woke up with an appetite for a little travel. A good drive was the order of the day and I was more than happy to give in to it.
By the time I had packed a bag full of basic essentials and had secured a co-pilot for the last minute journey, what had begun as a general hankering for a day away from the city had festered into a gentle frenzy. It was certainly time to say goodbye to Kota Kinabalu for a few hours.

I fetched the travel buddy from his place of residence, adjusted the iPod playlists accordingly, hooked the Hilux up with a full tank of gas, and we were on our way up to the Sabah highlands.
Approximately one and a half hours later we reached Kundasang. This is a town synonymous with anything pertaining to Mount Kinabalu as it is quite possibly the closest community area to the mountain itself, Kinabalu Park notwithstanding.
If you're in vicinity and passing through (say, en route to or from Poring Hot Springs, Ranau or even Sandakan) you'd be hard pressed to miss the small "tamu" or roadside stalls which sell fresh local vegetable produce, honey, plants, souvenirs and the like.

The reason why you'd be made aware of these stalls is due to the large number of tour buses parked alongside them waiting for tourists to make their purchases. A good thing for the local economy in my humble opinion, but a little vexing for drivers navigating the traffic along that particularly small stretch.

What made this trip truly unique for us was the unusually adverse wind conditions we encountered as soon as we reached the town. Granted Kundasang is around 1,500 meters above sea level but this was something new even for the locals, who by the looks of things appeared to be having a little difficulty acclimatizing to the gusts themselves.

We turned off at the Kundasang stalls and drove for another ten minutes until we reached the Mesilau Nature Resort for lunch. Mesilau is an ecofriendly vacation stay complete with chalets, an abundance of greenery and for those seeking an alternative approach to summiting Mount Kinabalu, the Mesilau Trail for climbers.

Located at around 2,000 meters above sea level this is quite possibly the highest resort in and around the Kundasang valley and surrounding range. Taking that into account, the winds became slightly more volatile, slamming into us from different directions and disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. I suppose that given the current weather conditions around South East Asia at the moment this should have been expected.

The best thing about these winds is that they made the eastern ridge of Mount Kinabalu visible, something I had never seen up close. The mountain itself was heavily shrouded but just being able to view these rocky, rugged side peaks made this road trip all that much more rewarding.

After lunch and a long, lazy caffeine induced verbal acclamation of the very welcome drop in temperature (we guesstimated around 18 degrees Celsius given the wind chill factor) we drove back to Kundasang town and spent a good half an hour taking note of ubiquitous motels, lodges and chalets in the vicinity, all with something different to offer.
The Kinabalu Pine Resort for example, has been a consistent industry leader for its category with numerous awards under its belt. We also noticed that there were a few up-and-coming developments currently under construction.
There were sadly a couple that were bordering on dilapidation. A very disappointing fact given the amazing vistas that are everywhere.

Our drive back down was pleasant enough and uneventful except for the antics of a driver of a large bus who was firmly in an F-1 state of mind. His lane-cutting tactics around blind corners had me jittery in expecting the inevitable oncoming car crash from the opposite lane. Thankfully nothing of the sort happened and after overtaking a succession of cars the bus sped off, no doubt to terrify the occupants of other vehicles further along.

We got back to the city after dark and drove straight into a heavy rainstorm which gravitated us towards a lovely steamboat dinner, to warm the bones.
A perfect way to end a truly memorable day. Road trips are definitely the way to go. We're planning our next one already.