Mount Kinabalu - Day One

It's been the school holidays in Sarawak this week and while Sue was busy writing an essay I took myself off to Sabah with the aim of climbing Mount Kinabalu, at 4,000 metres the highest thing in southeast asia.  It's a well-worn track being on quite a few peoples' list of things to do before they die.

Even before starting there is a bureaucratic mountain to be climbed, permits to be bought and hostels booked, insurance forms completed and guides hired.  Once arranged most people are committed to climbing with a Guide over two days.  On day one you climb a steep path for about 1,400 metres to a hostel below the summit.  On day two you rise at 2.00am and climb another 800 metres to catch the obligatory sunrise, before descending the 2,200 metres back to the starting point.  The descent is the killer with one's knees and thighs getting a relentless pounding down the steep path.

Most of the climb on day one was through cloud and mist in dripping forest and later tall scrub as the altitude increases and the climate gets cooler.  It was a relief to reach the hostel and shovel in a stack of carbohydrates - noodles, bread, rice, some chewy beef and sweet syrupy desert washed down with coffee.  After dinner I staggered up to my dormitory a hundred or so metres further up the path.  As I reached the landing at the front of the building I turned around and was amazed to see that the cloud had cleared to reveal the most spectacular golden sunset.  I got out my camera then waited, transfixed, with three other spectators.

I felt like I was in Olympus with the gods, looking down through the mist at the Earth below.  The clouds looked like cushions that one could jump down onto and roll around in.  In the gaps I could see mountain ridges and forests and the whole was suffused in a buttery, golden light which slowly dimmed and flared into shades of blue and red.  After I don't know how much time had passed we heard the rumble of nearby thunder then a ghostly white cloud rolled in front of us, like a curtain being drawn across the scene.  None of us could think of anything worthwhile to say, so we exchanged nods and glances and some polite inanities and went to bed.

With this kind of excursion there is always the question of "was it worth it?"  On this occasion the account was settled in spades.