Kota chronicles

KOTA KINABALU, Sabah – A backwaters town, veritably cut out of the tropical jungle. So was my instant impression the first time around.
That was in 1985 yet, on a brief ghee-whizz-instamatic-blur of a round about town on the way to a six-month Malaysian government fellowship in Kuala Lumpur.
A bustling metropolis, minus the blight of urbanization – read: teeming garbage, slums, graffiti. So is my attestation, the second time around, arriving here on February 22 and staying until the 25th.
Images of the first visit totally obliterated, but for the emerald greenness, the coolness of the place that makes even the most wearied traveler instantly refreshed. Yes, for all the increase in the population of the city – currently standing at 350,000, so we were told, and the requisite housing development that entailed, the forests have been well-preserved. Yes, even the trees lining the expanded highways remained standing so tall and so green.
A nice home for the visit is Gaya Centre Hotel, three-star standard, located between two malls – the upscale Suria Sabah and the Greenhills-type Wisma Merdeka – by the waterfront where the best in Sabah street food – from satay ayam dipped in peanut sauce, to nasi goreng to a variety of grilled fish and prawns, squids and shellfish – abound.
An example of fine dining though – where seafood reaches culinary excellence – is at the floating restaurant Kampung Nelayan or Fisherman’s Village where we partook our first dinner in Kota: peppercorn soft shell crabs, steamed prawns, fried black garupa, plus stewed ostrich meat and local greens fried in garlic. All these over an entertaining cultural show where audience participation is a must. The columnist Ashley Manabat and GNN 44’s Rey Yumang joined a tribal dance. I took the blowpipe challenge and hit a balloon from 20 feet away. Yeah!
Day Two started with an early morning breakfast at Gaya, then off for a two-hour scenic and exhilarating ride through zigzags and hairpin turns to Kinabalu Park, Malaysia’s first World Heritage Site.
As the whole park covers 754 sq. km., we had to content ourselves to just its five-acre botanical garden, where the nascent naturalist, if not the inborn botanist, in anyone comes to the fore right at the garden’s very entrance.
The orchids are not in bloom. The world’s largest flower, the rafflesia, is off blooming season too. But the lovely begonias and colorful berries, and the insectivorous pitcher plants in sizes Gay Rey described as wee, passable and oh-my-god well compensated for the absence.
The gurgling brook that meanders through the garden broken in places by tiny falls between large rocks, the chirping birds, the rush of the wind through the canopy of green, even the falling leaves compose a symphony of serenity most uplifting to the human spirit. Ah, how could one ever have the heart to hurt, to destroy God’s creation and still call himself human?
An hour hence, we arrived at the hot water spring, Poring Panas Air – bamboo-hot-water in Bahasa Malaysia, for the proliferation of bamboo groves in the area.
A twenty-five minute winding climb took us to a canopy walkway, amidst towering Menggaris trees, dubbed as the “King of the Sabah forests.” Up over 40 meters from the ground, a single wood plank to walk on, ropes to hold onto, nettings as protection against side slips, swaying in the wind with 157.8 meters to negotiate. A great thrill there, but definitely not one for the acrophobic. .
Strained calves, bum knees and sore feet find instant cure in the hot sulphuric minerals at the spring, in individual bathtubs and group pools.
The appetite worked up by the physicality of the day’s events, oversated by a hearty dinner – seafoods galore, again – at the Gayang Restaurant right at the bank of a river teeming with mangroves. Ah, transformed was I to an era long vanished – the kailugan, kandalaga, dalpakan and pambaling rivers of my youth in somnolent Sto. Tomas teeming with clumps of bakawan, tuwi, palapat and other mangroves. Ah, what have we done to our rivers? Alas, what have become of us?
A full stomach needed to be worked out. And what better post-prandial jaunt than through the Kota night market.
“A fool is easily parted with his money.” So Ashley half-lamented after paying RM22 (PHP308) for a pair of Oakley sunglasses when I got my own RayBan classic shades for only RM18 (PHP252). Twice the fool went Ashley by buying another pair for RM18 too.
No trip is ever complete for Ashley without so much as a sip at the local Starbucks. So with cups of espressos, we toasted our first full day in Kota Kinabalu.
ISLANDS OF DELIGHT
Ocean blue and mountain green – heavily forested green – define the essential Sabah.
And where sea and mountain meet, there most surely springs the greatest adventures. In nature.
So I hugged the trees, smelled the flowers, fondled the leaves at the Kinabalu Park botanical garden. And found some spiritual serenity.
So I jigged at the canopy walk, just to convince my unbelieving peers that I had no fear of heights. And did a Tarzan too with some vines on the way down to the oooh-so-soothing hot springs at Poring.
That well sums up the green mountain adventure of my Day Two in Kota Kinabalu.
Day Three. Off to Jesselton Wharf, five-minute ride from Gaya Centre Hotel boarded a passenger boat to island hop around the Tuanku Abdul Rahman Park.
First stop Sapi Island. Right at the pier, a most delightful sight: pulchritude in myriad shades from Southeast Asian brown to European white in revealing beach togs. Heaven to the yogi with so many navels to contemplate!
Into the water, an even greater delight: schools of fish swarming around you, nipping here and there. To swim with the fish, one fond wish fulfilled.
For the more adventurous, a scuba dive – complete with instructors and the latest gears – at nearby reefs. Or an underwater walk even for novice swimmers made possible with bubble like diver’s helmets.
A quick indulgence in foreign relations: a Latvian mother and her 15-month daughter turn close acquaintances after the first hello. Friendly poses for the cameras with Anastacia. Building castles in the sand with Maria.
Travel and tourism fostering amity among nations there.
One hour in the water, then off to the next stop: Manukan Island. Yeah, named after the domestic chicken.
The fish are more aggressively friendly here. Feeding frenzy ever at the ready with but a dip of a bread crumb.
Time for lunch. Buffet table groaning from the weight of the arrayed dishes – all tanggung halal, but of course: an assortment of grilled fish, prawns and alupihang dagat, grilled steaks and kambing with mint sauce to die for, satay ayam, sop ayam, salads and fruits. Food, glorious food!
Siesta time under lush, lush pines lining the beach. Cool, cool breeze whistling through the pine needles as a lullaby to lull one to sleep. But no time for even a nap though, or else miss the pageantry continuously unraveling along the shore.
Fantastic daydreams cut abruptly by the call to pack up and take the boat back to Kota Kinabalu. Sapi and Manukan images will always be there not only stored in flash drives and SD cards, but engraved in one’s own un-virused hard drive: the human imagination.
Sapi and Manukan, along with the three other islands of the Tuanku Abdul Rahman Park, definitely did not have the sugary white sands of Boracay but they better the Philippines’ best beach in greenery – the islands are lush with trees, and absolutely best it in their pristine state. But for single restaurants, there are no commercial establishments on the islands.
Quick showers at Gaya Centre Hotel then off to Monsopiad Village, some 30 minutes from Kota. Monsopiad was a legendary Kadazan warrior who lived 200 years ago.
Getting to know a bit of the life and times of the warrior took us first to the Siou Do Mohoing or the House of Skulls where 42 bleached human skulls – trophies from Monsopiad’s head-hunting days – hang from the rafters.
Displayed there too are old ceramic jars – housing the spirits, bamboo items, antique utensils and the costume of Bobohizan Inai Bianti, direct descendant of Monsopiad and acclaimed high priestess of the tribe.
At a traditional long house, cultural dances were performed – one with bamboo poles akin to our own tinikling.
Of interest too in the village is what I called the “moonshine” hut where rice wine is distilled using indigenous implements.
Back to Kota Kinabalu at near-dusk to have our fill of bak kut teh, literally “meat bone tea,” a famous dish of principally meaty pork ribs, some offal and bits of innards simmered in broth of herbs and spices and served with dried or fried tofu and rice.
No pork-eater for a long time, I felt a wonderfully woozy fullness after the meal, necessitating cups of espresso at the Coffee Beans and Tea Leaf this time.
So ended Day Three. In time to start writing the Sabah stories and get ready to leave for home the next day. A sense of bitin, of something still undone, of someplace still ungone to – feelings that always come over me at every departure.
In Sabah, there is Mount Kinabalu yet to climb, Sandakan to immerse in, Sippadan to perfect the art of doing nothing. And the rafflesia flower to see, to smell in full bloom.
I can only acquiesce to the counsel of a seasoned traveler: Don’t overdo it the first time. Or there will be nothing more to look for the next time around.
Yeah, to Sabah, I shall most certainly return.