Borneo Day 1 - Kuching

Kucing is the Chinese word for cat (according to the travel literature), and Kuching, the city in southern Sarawack, has adopted cat imagery with a vengence.

We didn't manage to get a photo of the one that started it all (maybe later), but here are some sights, including cats, that we saw on our first full day in Kuching, Borneo.

The first had a bit of a steampunk feel to it. It was located at the far end of India Street (an active bazaar), near the Open Air Food Court.

Then we saw some in a sculpture on the riverfront walkway. These are the only ones we've seen that are life sized.

Next, some others in a boulevard in the middle of a street, with Anita for scale.

And the one by the Old Chinese  Courthouse, a building that we seem to pass a lot. The first three times, I didn't notice the wire cat.

Today, we drove by the one that started it all, but didn't get a picture.

The state Legislature Building is across the river from our hotel.

And some scenes from Kuching.

Bali Botanical Garden

I haven't had the opportunity to get a good impression of Bali.  It's been a stopover for me. This is my fourth night here, over four times through.  Mostly, I've seen the airport and a couple of overnight hotel rooms.

Today, Anita's rest day between arriving from Canada and us going to Malaysian Borneo, we had a chance to get a different impression. Initially, we thought of going to Waterbom, a highly rated water park. We checked the website, and most slides had a duration if 12 to 22 seconds. We were pretty sure the lineups would be longer than 22 minutes, so it was time to look for an alternative activity.

The Bali Botanical Park came up the winner. Established in 1956, it's 185 hectares have had a lot of time to come into their own. There's a research facility. It looked promising.  The hotel concierge assured us the driver would have a knowledge of plants, and would be an adequate tour guide. We would not need anyone beyond our driver.

I'm pretty sure you can all hear me say "Huh" in that judgemental way I have. It didn't matter if we had a skilled guide. Although I've found a skilled guide greatly enriches an experience, we were still likely to have a wonderful time.

I knew the Bali Botanical Park was about two and a half hours from our neck of the woods (nearish the airport), so that meant we would actually see some of the Island, outside of this tourist area. It took about an hour and a half to be away from shops lining the roads, and the further out we got, the less touristy they got. We went along Landscapers Row, where the shops were either garden centres with plants for sale or they were accessory shops, selling stone works, decorative fountains or other things to enhance your yard.

We passed by a variety of traditional buildings inside high fences. They could have been temples; they could have been monasteries. I'll never know.

When we got to the farmlands, we started to climb. Through the farmlands, we passed by rice,  sugar cane, some corn, some landscape cloth waiting for chillies to grow.

 The Bali Botanical Gardens are on a hillside at an elevation ranging from 1250 metres to 1550 metres. Gone was the sticky humid 30 degree air. We were somewhere around a balmy 22.

As I said, the site is big, and although individual gardens are designed for walking, the overall site is not. Our driver pulled up beside the cactus house, suggesting we start there. It's a lovely building, with more bromeliads than cactus. Beside the cactus house was a fine grove of trees on one side and a couple of ponds on the other. There were splashes and other intriguing sound coming from the ponds, so we tried to discover their sources. The only wildlife I saw was a leggy bird that vaguely resembled a Guinea hen and some carp in the pond.

Next, we crossed the street to the orchid garden. I know I'm going to sound like a snob, but it lacked the spectacle of the Singapore Botanical Gardens' Orchid Garden. The Bali garden is in a magnificent setting, on a hillside overlooking a lake. But the staff seem few and far between. Admission was 17,000 Rupiah each, or about $1.70. They simply aren't charging enough to pay maintenance staff. The only worker we saw this Friday afternoon was the woman at the admission gate.

If I hadn't been to the Singapore garden, I would have thought the Bali Garden was lovely. It was nice to be away from crowds. It was wonderful being in the greenery. The beds were beautiful, particularly the bed of amaryllis. I've never seen them planted outdoors, or in great numbers.

So, apart from the cactus house, the water garden and the orchid garden, we walked around the medicinal plants garden, the rhododendrons and made an attempt at the Begonia House (locked doors). We drove through the bamboos and the palms. By that time, the on-again off-again rain was taking its toll, as was Anita's adjustment to a new time zone.

By now you've noticed that I often happen upon something really remarkable. Today's happenstance was a celebration by a small community on the way back to our hotel. It started by noticing a lot of pedestrians in traditional clothing walking in the same direction that we were travelling in. Women often seemed to have a basket of food on their heads. As is often the case, the women and men didn't seem to be walking together, although their destination was common.

We passed men carrying some large figures, and then saw. People sitting on the road.  Between the ones going in our direction and the ones coming towards us, there were baskets and baskets of beautifully prepared food. Offerings of some sort. And then it was over, and traffic flowed again. Half an hour later, it was dark and we were in heavy rain.

****Just a quick note on autocorrect.  I just read through the post, and found many words changed.  Hopefully my fixes will stay.  Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the guessing game of what I actually typed.  You're probably very familiar with that game by now, if you've been following along on my journey.

Photos: 

First stop, the Cactus House:

This bloom was a rose shaped charmer

Lots of bromiliads

Beside the Cactus House, the water gardens

Across from the Cactus House, the Orchid House.  That's when it started to pour:

By the Begonia House, there was a lovely pergola dripping with blossoms

The House was closed, but there was a spectacular large bloom on the building's border. Anita's hand is in the photo for scale.

 There was also a bed of amaryllis. I've never seen a whole bed of them before!

Before leaving the park, we stopped by the banyan tree

There was one spot with slow traffic on the way home, along with an ever increasing number of pedestrians all going in one direction.

Padang Hill

Today is mostly pictures, taken on the way up and from the top of Padang Hill. It was a bit of a reality check for me.  Only 350 steps, mostly shallow, and I was done in.  I'll still try the Pinnacles Hike, but I'm less confident than before.

To get to Padang Hill, I had to cross the river (bridge), and turn left.  The road went by these boats, and precarious wharves.

 The path followed the mouth of the river, where fishermen came in with a morning's catch.

This used to be a point where cannons were needed to protect the harbour from invaders. On the way down, I saw a four-foot lizard go up the hill behind this bunker.

The path was very scenic.

A rest stop mid-way up.

Views from the top:

Back at the river bank, a man worked on his dug out canoe.

And finally, for Ed Miska:

Payakumbah Bull Races

When I finished writing the last post, the Bulls (sorry, I initially thought they were oxen. Turns out they were cattle) had assembled at the start line, a couple of hundred meters away.

I had been focused for the full hour that I was waiting.  I failed to notice how many people had gathered, or even that somehow a dozen Bulls had been guided across the field. Just so you know, autocorrect is giving Bulls that initial upper-case letter. I am not trying to turn the livestock into something high and mighty.

As we were driving into Payakumbah, I was noticing more and more people leading cows down the road. I asked my driver what was going on, and he shrugged. Maybe they sell. Some were trucked in, so clearly something was going on. Then we got to the field. Ah, he said, maybe a race. We stop?  We stop.

He confirmed the event was an hour away, and I sat down to tell you about my day to that point. Okay, we’re caught up.

Somehow a signal was given, and the Bulls thundered through the mud towards us. They mostly kept in their lanes, an amazing feat considering the only lane markers were strung overhead above the start line.

I have no idea how the drivers got their animals to go, but go they did.

The winner was the first bull-and-driver pair to cross the finish line.  Not everyone held on for the entire course.

The harness was fashioned from bamboo, and can best be described as elliptical. Long, slightly curved and reinforced at the narrow ends. I watched a few Bulls being harnessed, yet I can't relay how it was done.

After the race, most drivers had company to help them retrieve their animal.  The drivers mostly tried to get the worst of the mud off by taking an extra few dips in the field. Many took off their shirts, leaving them remarkably bare (only tight shorts).  The assembled women were well covered, including with Muslim head scarves.  Each of us, I'm sure, admired these muscular torsos and legs.

We watched three heats, each about 15 minutes apart. As a spoiled sports, I suggested we get back on the road before the race traffic dissolved, and all of the audience took to the road. Another 250-350 vehicles on the road would have resulted in volume delays, and holiday weekend traffic was already heavy enough.

We stopped for dinner by the bus-attracting waterfall, at a bingo-hall sized restaurant that specializes in Padang food.  We sat down at a large rectangular table. The waiter brought finger bowls to wash our hands, and then a dozen dishes: a beef curry, some finely-ground beef, a frittata, something that looked like quail eggs, a few tofu and tempeh dishes, something green and stringy (think sliced steamed spinach), some green chilies in a liquid, and some fried chicken. Then a large bowl of white rice. The payment structure is a lot like Dim Sum -- you pay for what you've actually had. For two people, the bill was 50,000 rupiah, or about Cdn$5.

I don't know which was more delicious, the chicken or the finely ground beef. It had chilli, cinnamon and some other warm spices. The heat came after.  Thank goodness for the rice. The chicken was the best fried chicken I've ever had.

Somewhere along the journey, I saw some bamboo that had fallen. The stalks were a food 35 feet high, and had broken at about the 20 foot mark. Was that a strong wind, I asked. No, the Aceh earthquakes couple of weeks ago. Apart from people occasionally standing in the centre of the road with a donation bucket to capture the captive market-jammed traffic, that bamboo was the only evidence of the earthquake that I've seen.

Photos:
The field was pastoral, a good thing, considering it was a rice paddy much of the year.

The start line was far away, and the bulls weren't always interested in standing around.

And they're off:

I tried to install a video.  It was more difficult than I thought.  Even though I pressed the correct button.  Maybe I'll upload to YouTube; maybe I'll try again when I get home.

It wasn't always easy to get bulls to the start line. The picture below shows a young driver in training and gives you an idea about the harness

Another heat, close to the finish line.
 

Harau Valley, updated with pictures

 Sorry folks, I did not get to see duck race today.  To make up for it, my driver convinced me to stop and watch the ox races. Two oxen, one driver race another pair of oxen with another driver through a flooded recently harvested rice paddy.  I've seen it on Amazing Race.


We went into the Harau Valley after finding out there were no duck races in Payakumbah today. The valley reminded me a lot of the Yosemite Valley. High sheer rock races on either side of a broad, flat valley. The valley floor is mostly rice paddies in various stages of growth. By the Abdi Guest House, there’s a narrow, high waterfall.


The guest house is incredibly scenic. It has a series of bamboo-walled cabins with traditional peaked roofs.  The cabins are on stilts, and sit on the narrow shelf between the cliffs and the rice paddies. There are trees, flowers and a fish pond.


We took the French couple to the Guest House, and had our lunch there. I wanted a walk before the five hour drive home, so I followed the directions into the rice paddies. The trail was supposed to loop around, and take about an hour.


About 15 minutes in, I found the path was more of a muddy whisper than anything, and I was worried about sliding and falling, so I turned back about 100 meters, and crossed the stream on the bamboo bridge (four three-inch bamboo poles tied loosely together as the bridge bottom and one at waist height as the railing). From the other side the path looked better. Close up, it was equally as muddy. I turned back, passed the guest house and continued on the road.


There's a wonderfully scenic covered bridge for cars on this side road, and when I crossed it and got to the main road, I turned the way I had not been. There was a fair bit of vehicular traffic, lots of children to say hello to, and a macaque monkey!  It was walking like a cat, delicately, with its tail up, looking around (fortunately not at me). It went into the bushes before I got to it, thank goodness. I'm rather afraid of primates.


At the end of the road, there is another waterfall that attracts a lot of tourists. That's where the cars, busses and motorbikes were going. I didn't go all the way there since I had already seen a beautiful waterfall, without the crowds.


The drive to Payakumbah had many speculation spots. There was one roadside waterfall that attracted a dozen tour busses and the people in them. We stopped at the top of the next hill to admire the vista. Lush greenery all through the spectacular valley.


Soon after that, we took a small detour to a traditional house -- curvy roof ends, ornately carved and painted walls. Even the shutters were ornamented.


To get to Payakumbah, we had to go through Bukatinggi.  Lonely Planet says it's a sleepy town until nine am, when the market opens. We were there at ten. The traffic was backed up for at least three kilometres. It was stop and go for 45 minutes.


The market, from what we saw driving by, was amazing. It's adjacent to the main road and farmers bring their wares either by truck or motorcycle. We'd see bikes laden with a four-foot wide bag of vegetables trying to wind their way through bumper to bumper traffic. Mostly, they'd go in the centre lane, but every now and then wedge their way through the car lane to the sidewalk side. It was harrowing, but we didn't see any accidents.


Bukatinggi is at the crest of a hill, so for some nervous drivers the stop and go was hell. Our driver, in the Suzuki van, often pretended he was on a motorbike, pushing his way into the regular traffic when oncoming forced the issue. There was one point where he wasn't able to push in quickly enough (bumper to bumper, remember) and a full sized Mercedes Benz coach was coming the other direction. We got part way in to the column of traffic, and everything stopped. We exhausted the patience of the bus driver, and he started to honk. It was futile. There was nothing anyone could do, but a farmer scraped vehicles on both sides with his overstuffed sack of cabbages as he squeezed his way through.


The only other sight of note on the way here was a monkey in a motorcycle sidecar. That particular sidecar was more of a cargo platform, and our driver said the monkey climbs trees to get coconuts.


In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying a new thing: narrative first, followed by pictures. I've been finding it difficult to tell you about my experiences and intersperse pictures.  The result has been substandard writing, and I've been feeling frustrated about this.


Photos:

Padang is on the west coast of Sumatra, maybe a quarter of the way up the island. It was almost a two hour flight from Jakarta (on Java). The beach is long, and in the morning, a crew of people in green rake the debris from the night before. The surf gets stronger towards the middle; I'm near the south end.

There was a dolphin garbage bin, similar to the garbage gobblers of my youth.

Now we're moving on to the road to Bukitinggi, and ultimately the Harau Valley. Here's the waterfall that attracted so many busses.

And the vista from a viewpoint.  Yhat's Mount Merapi and its steam on the left.

A stop at a traditional building:

 
We got stuck in traffic around the Bukitinggi market.  The traffic was backed up at least three kilometres.

Phew. Made it past there, and on to the Guest House in the Harau Valley.

A walk into the rice fields

And to other direction when the path became too squishy.

Some cocoa trees. When the pods are black, they are ready to harvest.