It's funny the things that stick in your mind from a journey.  Batu Niah is one of the most spectacular of Sarawak's national parks.  It comprises a vast cave network full of bats and swallows in a setting of jungle and limestone cliffs straight out of "Jurassic Park".  There are mysterious wall paintings, mountains of acrid bat shit and a profound sense of darkness and silence as you grope your way along a two kilometre subterranean boardwalk.  And what do I remember best?  The National Park canteen. From the second you walk in the door there is the smell of desperation.  The National Park is three kilometres from the town of Batu Niah, so the canteen has a captive market of tourists.  It's located in a brand new building with new steel and formica tables and chairs and yet the place is empty.  In one corner there are a few lonely boxes of potato crisps under a notice warning that "thieves will be prosecuted".  There is also a set of swing...

From Bintulu I travelled by taxi the thirty-odd kilometres to Similajau National Park.  Much of the journey is dominated by what I guess is a large oil refinery with a sinister grey cloud sitting above it, like an upside-down pyramid pointing to a bright flame at the top of a pencil-like chimney.  The National Park itself is a long strip of coast with sandy beaches fringed by forest which, from the look of the logos around the place, appears to get some funding from Shell, perhaps as compensation for the sinister cloud next door. The Park offices are smart and air conditioned and staffed by smiling young women in green polo shirts.  I book a room for the night, which requires the completion of several forms.  This is done, in mandatory Malaysian bureaucratic style - like a new procedure introduced two minutes ago with no training.  It must actually take a lot of concentration to repeat this pantomime several times a day, week in, week out. Finally, key in h...

After failing to get to Belaga up the river Rejang I went back to Sibu in search of a bus to Bintulu.  This was my first experience of long distance buses in Sarawak and it was easy and pleasant.  The only difficult part was actually finding the long-distance bus station, which in common with every major town in Sarawak, it turns out, is several kilometres from the centre.  There are several competing companies offering big air-conditioned coaches, with three armchair-like seats in each row, and the two hundred kilometre journey cost me twenty five ringgits (about £5). As the bus left Sibu I pulled the Lonely Planet Guide from my rucksack in search of where to stay and what to do in my journey north to Bintulu and then Miri.  To be honest the Guide doesn't tell me much about the country I live in, it's more of an inventory of interesting things for outsiders: beaches, National Parks, restaurants and nightlife and "authentic" things to "experience" and take...

With time on my hands following my return from Raleigh International in Sabah, I've decided to spend some time exploring Sarawak.  Sue had arranged a weekend of luxury at the Marriot Hotel in Miri, so I resolved to join her by getting boats and buses from Saratok.  My plan was to travel by boat up the River Rejang from Sarikei to Belaga, where I would get a four wheel drive taxi to the main Sibu-Miri highway. On Sunday 21st July I got a lift to Sarikei then a ferry to Sibu, where I changed for a boat to Kapit. The Kapit boat was packed with people returning home after the weekend.  The ferries on the Rejang above Sibu are battered steel tubes with two stonking diesels at the back which hammer the boats through the water at an ear-splitting thirty knots.  Inside the passenger compartment has a similar atmosphere to a meat cold storage warehouse as the a/c units are always set to "max" for some reason. The mighty Rejang was actually more of a trickle due to t...

On Monday afternoon a Raleigh International Landrover dropped me and my bike at KK airport.  I gave Mel, the Volunteer Manager who drove me there, a farewell hug then trolleyed my gear to the check-in desk. After the formalities I wandered back out of the terminal to take a last look at Mount Kinabalu, unusually clear and visible in the evening light and looking like the extinct volcano it is.  I took a few pictures, trying to capture the moment and thinking "I climbed you, but I've never seen you this well before".  Returning to the terminal building the sunset over the sea and the nearby islands was like a cosmic bruise, all yellows, purples and reds.  I couldn't take my eyes off it as I walked to the departure gate at the far end of the airport, knowing that both of us would be gone shortly.  Just one more sunset and one more memory lodged for the time being in my old cranium, like water in a leaky bucket. I had a little time on my hands so I 'phoned...

I'm sat in our friend Jess' house in Sibu with some spare time before getting the plane for Kota Kinabalu in Sabah.  Two weeks ago I was offered a volunteer Finance Officer role with Raleigh International and despite the short notice I decided to go for it.  I'll be there for three months working at the charity's base in KK where they keep tabs on a variety of community and adventure projects for young Brits. Right now I'm thinking "why at the age of 57 am I still doing this stuff?"  I'll be sleeping in a dorm and working with people who will mostly be less than half my age.  I feel old and anxious and a little bit excited.  I said goodbye to Sue yesterday afternoon when she dropped me off at Jess' place and I'm going to miss her.  When I finish with Raleigh I will only have 2-4 weeks left in Borneo, which will be taken up with packing and organising our return to Italy. The plus side is that it gets me some hands on experience of internat...

After our pilgrimage to Singapore Sue, Rosemary and I flew off to Penang for a few days, where we had booked two rooms on a "Clan Jetty" on the edge of Georgetown. The place took us about half an hour to track down, but was for me perfect - a secluded spot on the edge of the busy city looking out over the straits between Penang island and the mainland.  Georgetown is my kind of place - run down, noisy, cosmopolitan and full of amazing places to eat, from cheap and crowded hawker centres to upmarket restaurants so the price of a good meal can range from a couple of pounds to twenty quid or more. Just about everyone has been through Georgetown in the last few hundred years, including the Portugese, the British and the Chinese and they have all left their mark on its culture and cuisine.  It is home to the fascinating sino-european fusion that is the Straits Chinese community and was one of the main departure points for muslims undertaking the Haj.  Maybe Georgetown...