We set off before dawn and reached the car ferry just as it was getting light. There were only a few cars waiting to cross, but as the ferry approached from across the river I could see it was packed with palm oil trucks and motorcyclists who rumbled ashore like an invading army.
At Maludam we met Ellie and her brother Richard and went in search of our boat. After the inevitable confusion about where and when the boat was to rendezvous with us, we embarked in a small day boat with a crew of two. After a half hour or so we heard some thrashing noises in the trees which signalled the approach of a group of monkeys. I saw them fleetingly then heard a crash as one missed its handhold and fell towards the swamp below with a cry that could easily be interpreted as "ah bollocks". Even the crew laughed.There was further confusion about exactly how long we had agreed to hire the boat for, but in the end we motored into and around the swamp for several hot hours. In the heart of the swamp our man on the bow had to work hard in places to cut a path through the undergrowth with his machete. In the early evening we returned tired and sunburnt to Maludam and the open river.
Finally we motored through the village and out into open water to look for crocodiles, seeing several one metre or so long specimens basking by the river bank. We also saw some of the local fishing boats return with their catch to the village at the end of the day. 
Sat in the small boat in the creek above the village I was struck by how familiar it all seemed. The smell of the mud, the cries of the seabirds and the fishing boats motoring their way up the creek against the tide taking me back to many evenings spent mucking about in small boats in the Thames Estuary.We returned to Ellie's house and went to bed at about ten, too tired to see in the New Year.
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