Fumble in the Jungle

My minibus turned up late, but much to my delight, I was the only one going to Taman Negara that morning - perhaps the weather had put everyone else off. The driver was an elderly Malaysian Hindu and second generation Indian. I've found that the older Malaysians speak excellent English because they grew up in a Malaysia that was still under British rule or if not, then the education system was still very much influenced by it. We had several hours to talk about Malaysia, its politics, history, ethnic diversities, etc...

He eventually noticed I was trying my best to keep my eyes open and so suggested I have a nap. The road to Taman Negara wound between the hills of the Cameron Highlands to descend into the jungle. As such, the car was constantly veering left, then veering right, then back to the left, etc... Lying horizontally being tilted up and down like a seesaw, blood and several of my organs would rush to my head for a handful of seconds, before being thrown into my feet, like the furniture inside a boat on choppy seas all sliding one way, then the other. One minute I was chewing on my Adam's apple, the next minute my lower intestines were halfway down my left leg; this wasn't going to work. Eventually the road leveled out and I managed to get just under an hour's sleep.

We arrived at the boat jetty in Kuala Tembeling at 11:30 am, the boat to Kuala Tahan, the town closest to Taman Negara's park headquarters, wouldn't arrive until 14:30. While waiting, reading the LP guide, sitting in the shade, I saw something moving in the longer grass on the bank of the river, just 10 metres away. It was a lizard, the length of my leg, its head the size of my hand (and if you've seen me play guitar, you know I have big hands) bathing in the sun.

I walked over slowly to try to get a closer look, but it knew I was coming so dived into the longer grass slightly further down the bank. It then popped its head up and watched me attentively, waiting for my next move - dare I compare it to the scene in Jurassic Park where the park ranger gets eaten by the Veloceraptor because he's keeping his eye on the one staring at him from the bushes, but it was exactly like that...minus the gory ending. I would have happily have turned around and headed back, it couldn't get much better than a giant lizard.

The LP guide said that the three hour boat journey sailing up river through the jungle to Kuala Tahan is a highlight for many. Well, I fell asleep. There were some great views, but after about 6 or 7 minutes, I was bored. Then the rain started. It hammered down all around us, but we barely got wet, even though all we had was a little tin roof separating us from the elements above (but not the sides). We went through two downpours of heavy rain before reaching camp.

The town was a collection of makeshift shacks on the banks of the river opposite the park entrance. The restaurants that line the river front are supported by floating barrels and made of, what looks like, discarded wood that has floated downstream. Everyone and his uncle sells tours of the jungle, though I think there are actually only a few companies (at least two), but everyone wants to be a commission making intermediary.

I decided to do a night jungle walk as, only planning to be there for 36 hours, I had no time to spare. The guide, clearly a veteran of this mini-jungle walk to the point of boredom, knew exactly where everything would be or was. We saw scorpions poking their heads and pincers out of their nests waiting for prey; snakes sleeping in trees; glow in the dark mushrooms; stick insects; and large spiders by the bucket load. He taught us that the trick to spotting them was to shine our torches at eye level out into the distance and any very bright, almost diamond like reflections, are spiders' eyes.

The next day, I was up early for my day long trek. I set off into the jungle at 9:00 for four and half hour trek, alone. There's only one trek available for those wanting to do a short day trip, and unfortunately, it's so overused, the likelihood of seeing any very exotic flora or fauna that this 130 million year old jungle has protected...is improbably low.

I followed the river upstream until I turned off to for a quick steep climb to the longest canopy walkway in the world. Suspended some 30 odd metres above the jungle floor, it was quite fun when I first stepped out on to it, swinging left and right on a plank of wood with some suspension wires either side, but by the end of the first walkway, I was ready to move on...though I had to finish it, then climb back up to continue on my trek. The climb continued to a peak at 344 metres known as Bukit Teresek which provides a great view of the jungle. I rested there a while to regain my breath before descending back into the murky depths of the jungle and far lesser used and far muddier trail.

At some point on my journey, I saw a small worm sticking straight up vertically from a leaf. I watched it bend over backwards, use (what I thought had been) its front end to stick to the ground, then flop over again and so forth. This allowed it to move in any direction, much like a slinky does going down a set of stairs. It wasn't until later, when after slipping in some mud, I found three crawling in my shoe, trying to dig through my sock to break the layers of my epidermis and suck on my blood. Leeches.

OK. Don't panic. You've read about this in the LP guide. You can handle this. 'Flick them sideways' was the advice I had read. I pushed my index against my thumb, holding back all the strength my spindly fingers could muster. I lined up the first one, squirming against my sock, I let loose a fury of index led power firing it into the bushes at a 45 degree angle. Score. One down. Two to go.

I lined up the second with a new found confidence. As it has a tendency to, hubris led me astray. The first flick didn't send this one flying, so he latched on harder, contorting its body in all directions. The second flick did nothing. Nor the third. It knew this was likely to be the only chance at a meal potentially in its lifetime, so it was fighting with all its might. I pulled my sock away from my skin to see if it had penetrated through; it moved with the sock, suggesting it hadn't. I took my shoe off, the third fell into it, so I catapulted it out with full force of my arm.

Now I was locked in battle with the second leech again, it trying to get into my sock and me, standing on one foot, holding the other in my hand, hopping in the mud and swinging my shoe around, all the while flicking incessantly in all directions like a trigger happy cowboy and trying not to lose my balance like a cartoon character on a  tightrope. I can imagine that the local exotic birds looking down at me, sniggering and waging their bets on the leech, while I fumbled and grumbled.

A successful flick had the leech come off my sock, but try to latch on to my finger. I threw my hand like I wanted it to come off, launching the little shit into the bushes. I had felt a very light, but sharp pinch on my finger before I sent it packing to find a blood buffet elsewhere. I'll try to maintain the small scratch on my index was a leech bite, but don't hesitate to call me on it, if ever I bring it up.

Another few hours walk and I was out the jungle. I rewarded myself with my packed lunch, a shower and an afternoon nap. My shoes were so incredibly covered in mud, they were unrecognisable. Faithful companions through the Arava desert, halfway across Malawi to Livingstone and all across India, I sadly had to leave them behind, along with a t-shirt and a pair of linen trousers, so drenched in sweat and mud, they were beyond repair.

After a good night's rest, I was up early and on the bus back to Kuala Lumpur and the next day to Singapore.