Taman Negara National Park
Friday, Oct. 22, 2006
Although the hide was supposed to be a place to potentially spot wildlife in the park, it was so dark at night that it was impossible to see anything. The only wildlife was some rats scurrying through the rafters, and the only large mammals I heard were our fellow hide-mates, pushing the sweet sounds of slumber through their nasal cavities.
That said, it was still an interesting and oddly enjoyable expereince. We set out on the trail again early in the morning, this time taking an alternate route along the river. I prepared myself against the leeches with duct tape compounded with DEET slathered generously all over my shoes (curse lace holes) and legs. his worked well; I only found three leeches attached (and a couple trampled and dead in the soles of my shoes) during the trip back. The rainforest also has a a huge variety of plants, including trees and vines with vicious spikes. I suppose because I had the leeches somewhat figured out, I felt it necessary to barrel obliviously into many of these poky specimens. Shins beware.
Right before we reached park headquarters again, we took a detour to walk on the canopy walkway, apparently the longest walkway of its kind in the world. Though an interesting experience for the sheer novelty of being up so high and swinging slightly, it wasn't quite as marketed - a way to see flora and fauna that would be inaccessible from the ground perspective. Rather, everything above was leafy and green, and everything below was as well.
Upon returning to civilization, we were eager to have real food for dinner. However, with it being Ramadan, most of the restaurants were closed, except to serve steaming buffets to the large tours of Koreans who piled through each night. When we finally did find a place to eat, a guy sitting at the opposite end of our table looked oddly familiar. Turns out it was a guy I was vaguely acquainted with at Berkeley, who had worked as a healthworker in Unit 2 while I was an RA there. Even though I don't really know him, it was neat to see a (slightly) familiar face. I'd had a quiet suspicion I'd see a Berkeley face sometime during my trip, so I guess this was it.
Thursday, Oct. 21, 2006
We planned to hike out and spend the night in one of the park hides, a simple stilted cabin positioned above a salt lick, where you can sleep and watch out for animals in the middle of the rainforest.
At AM, we checked in the with park headquarters, paying our fee and asking what trail to take. We puttered around, then decided that we needed a more substantial flashlight than our headlamps. We went back to the HQ desk, and asked the same man if he could point us in the direction of the camp supply rental store. After securinga huge, heavy flashlight, we decided to go have lunch at one of the floating restaurants along the river. At 11:30AM, we rolled back up to the HQ desk, once again, to be pointed in the direction of the actual trailhead. The park staff (the same guy as our other two visits), gave us an incredulous look that melted into skepticism, and he showed us where to go.
The trail was decently maintained, but the recent rains had washed out some parts of the path and brought down branches and trees, which had to be climbed over and under. About 20 minutes into our hike, I made the unpleasant discovery of three leeches, fixed to my left ankle. Marc and I pulled them off, and I duct-taped the tops of my ankle-length socks (unfortunate choice) to my legs in hopes of keeping the leeches out. For the rest of the trip, we stopped every few minutes or so to pull off the leeches that clung to our shoes and feet (leeches unfortunately can work their way through the loose weave of athletic socks). Mar's feet, in Tevas (an even less fortunate choice) were quite the walking buffet for the buggers, and they worked their way under and into the straps of his sandals, making removal extremely difficult. Slightly irksome was the fact that neither my travel book nor the park literature or staff made any mention at all of leeches.
We stopped for a break, and Marc pulled out a bag of Tiger Biscuits (also marketed as "Energi Biskuat" in Indo, a Danone product featuring a tiger in frankly, really ugly blue overalls and a red shirt) which we'd previously opened. He slid out the molded plastic tray ... and there lay a gecko, eyes wide ... with a stump in lieu of a tail. Without saying a word, we looked at each other. Marc began to pick up stacks of biscuits, inspecting the tray underneath. Ugh, he's checking for gecko poo, I thought. Nothing. He picked up the second stack, and my skin started to crawl. Oh no, I hope he doesn't find the ... there lay the gecko tail.
It's amazing what you find yourself able to tolerate in certain situations. We ate those biscuits, and they tasted great. Here's the way the rest of the story goes: we pulled leeches off, we pulled leeches off, we saw some wild pigs and heard monkeys, we pulled leeches off, we lost the trail with only one hour of daylight left, we refound the trail, and after seven hours of trekking, we arrived at the hide by the last light of day, two minutes before a rainstorm poured down.
Wednesday, Oct. 20, 2006
Caught an 8:30AM bus to Taman Negara National Park, the world's oldest rainforest. The three -hour bus ride inched along. The speedometer on the dash didn't work, and I could see the needle spastically twitching at "0 km/h" as we crept through KL gridlock, accelerated and merged onto the freeway, and jerked to a complete stop on the highway due to the incompetent gear-shifting of our driver. Through it all, that needle pointed faithfully to 0.
What goes great after a three-hour bus ride? A three-hour boat ride! To reach the actual park, we long, shallow, covered boat with a motor attached to the back up the river. The motor died in the middle of our trip, and our poor boat captain struggled to get it started again. The boat gradually slowed in the oncoming current, stopped, and began to turn and go backwards. Eventually, the captain jumped into the water and tied the boat as he wrestled with the engine and got it going. From there, it was smooth sailing, until it happened again. And then again. It was a fun boat ride though. Much more preferable to the bus.
Although the hide was supposed to be a place to potentially spot wildlife in the park, it was so dark at night that it was impossible to see anything. The only wildlife was some rats scurrying through the rafters, and the only large mammals I heard were our fellow hide-mates, pushing the sweet sounds of slumber through their nasal cavities.
That said, it was still an interesting and oddly enjoyable expereince. We set out on the trail again early in the morning, this time taking an alternate route along the river. I prepared myself against the leeches with duct tape compounded with DEET slathered generously all over my shoes (curse lace holes) and legs. his worked well; I only found three leeches attached (and a couple trampled and dead in the soles of my shoes) during the trip back. The rainforest also has a a huge variety of plants, including trees and vines with vicious spikes. I suppose because I had the leeches somewhat figured out, I felt it necessary to barrel obliviously into many of these poky specimens. Shins beware.
Right before we reached park headquarters again, we took a detour to walk on the canopy walkway, apparently the longest walkway of its kind in the world. Though an interesting experience for the sheer novelty of being up so high and swinging slightly, it wasn't quite as marketed - a way to see flora and fauna that would be inaccessible from the ground perspective. Rather, everything above was leafy and green, and everything below was as well.
Upon returning to civilization, we were eager to have real food for dinner. However, with it being Ramadan, most of the restaurants were closed, except to serve steaming buffets to the large tours of Koreans who piled through each night. When we finally did find a place to eat, a guy sitting at the opposite end of our table looked oddly familiar. Turns out it was a guy I was vaguely acquainted with at Berkeley, who had worked as a healthworker in Unit 2 while I was an RA there. Even though I don't really know him, it was neat to see a (slightly) familiar face. I'd had a quiet suspicion I'd see a Berkeley face sometime during my trip, so I guess this was it.
Thursday, Oct. 21, 2006
We planned to hike out and spend the night in one of the park hides, a simple stilted cabin positioned above a salt lick, where you can sleep and watch out for animals in the middle of the rainforest.
At AM, we checked in the with park headquarters, paying our fee and asking what trail to take. We puttered around, then decided that we needed a more substantial flashlight than our headlamps. We went back to the HQ desk, and asked the same man if he could point us in the direction of the camp supply rental store. After securinga huge, heavy flashlight, we decided to go have lunch at one of the floating restaurants along the river. At 11:30AM, we rolled back up to the HQ desk, once again, to be pointed in the direction of the actual trailhead. The park staff (the same guy as our other two visits), gave us an incredulous look that melted into skepticism, and he showed us where to go.
The trail was decently maintained, but the recent rains had washed out some parts of the path and brought down branches and trees, which had to be climbed over and under. About 20 minutes into our hike, I made the unpleasant discovery of three leeches, fixed to my left ankle. Marc and I pulled them off, and I duct-taped the tops of my ankle-length socks (unfortunate choice) to my legs in hopes of keeping the leeches out. For the rest of the trip, we stopped every few minutes or so to pull off the leeches that clung to our shoes and feet (leeches unfortunately can work their way through the loose weave of athletic socks). Mar's feet, in Tevas (an even less fortunate choice) were quite the walking buffet for the buggers, and they worked their way under and into the straps of his sandals, making removal extremely difficult. Slightly irksome was the fact that neither my travel book nor the park literature or staff made any mention at all of leeches.
We stopped for a break, and Marc pulled out a bag of Tiger Biscuits (also marketed as "Energi Biskuat" in Indo, a Danone product featuring a tiger in frankly, really ugly blue overalls and a red shirt) which we'd previously opened. He slid out the molded plastic tray ... and there lay a gecko, eyes wide ... with a stump in lieu of a tail. Without saying a word, we looked at each other. Marc began to pick up stacks of biscuits, inspecting the tray underneath. Ugh, he's checking for gecko poo, I thought. Nothing. He picked up the second stack, and my skin started to crawl. Oh no, I hope he doesn't find the ... there lay the gecko tail.
It's amazing what you find yourself able to tolerate in certain situations. We ate those biscuits, and they tasted great. Here's the way the rest of the story goes: we pulled leeches off, we pulled leeches off, we saw some wild pigs and heard monkeys, we pulled leeches off, we lost the trail with only one hour of daylight left, we refound the trail, and after seven hours of trekking, we arrived at the hide by the last light of day, two minutes before a rainstorm poured down.
Wednesday, Oct. 20, 2006
Caught an 8:30AM bus to Taman Negara National Park, the world's oldest rainforest. The three -hour bus ride inched along. The speedometer on the dash didn't work, and I could see the needle spastically twitching at "0 km/h" as we crept through KL gridlock, accelerated and merged onto the freeway, and jerked to a complete stop on the highway due to the incompetent gear-shifting of our driver. Through it all, that needle pointed faithfully to 0.
What goes great after a three-hour bus ride? A three-hour boat ride! To reach the actual park, we long, shallow, covered boat with a motor attached to the back up the river. The motor died in the middle of our trip, and our poor boat captain struggled to get it started again. The boat gradually slowed in the oncoming current, stopped, and began to turn and go backwards. Eventually, the captain jumped into the water and tied the boat as he wrestled with the engine and got it going. From there, it was smooth sailing, until it happened again. And then again. It was a fun boat ride though. Much more preferable to the bus.
posted by Stefanie at 4:18 AM
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