Summer 2003: Adventures in Turkey, Borneo, and Denmark Part 6: The Finale

The final installment of my eight-week incongruous journey to three very different places. 

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The obligatory photo of the Little Mermaid

From the northern tip of Jutland I then turned back south to Denmark’s second largest town of Aarhus.  On the way there I stopped at a small town to see a Viking fortress located a few kilometers out of town.  I walked the four kilometers out to the ring fortress, stopping at a very interesting recreated Viking village and then back to town.  I would not be visiting the largest Viking ring fortress at Trelleborg, so I was glad to see this one, though it was a little hard to imagine it as a fortress.  Later seeing the layout in museums made it seem more real, but at the time looking at a raised ring of grass with a young man riding a rather loud lawn mower, without a Viking to be seen, it was hard to imagine.

Aarhus is a big college town, students make up approximately 10% of the population.  This makes it really young and lively.  Yet I wasn’t feeling very young or lively when I rolled into town, and I spent my first day locating accommodation, doing email, visiting the tourist office, finding food, and enjoying the main shopping street.  On the second day I joined a bus tour taking in the main sites, such as the Cathedral (the longest in Denmark) and Den Gamle By (the Old Town) for a really good price.  Den Gamle By is a man-made town recreated from a number of old historical buildings from around Denmark moved and restored in Aarhus.  Unfortunately, we had only 40 minutes there, but it was really lovely and reminded me of Colonial Williamsburg with people walking around in historical costumes, including the shoemaker’s wife making pudding for visitors.

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Frederiksborg Castle

I traveled out to the Moesgard Museum, which is full of information about the Iron Age in Denmark, before the Middle Ages and the Vikings.  The center piece of this exhibit is Grauballe Man, a “bog man” recovered from somewhere in Jutland.  The bogs, swampy misty areas, were places of worship and many riches were sacrificed to the bogs to bring good luck.  In addition, it seems people were often sacrificed to the bogs, though they did not go willingly, as they are found with their throats cut or strangled or beaten.  The interesting part is that all of this can be determined easily as the composition of the bogs almost perfectly preserved the people thrown in them.  The skin is tanned to leather and the skin is oxidized to red, but you can see the hair on their heads, and their beards perfectly intact.  Even the pores of their skin are still visible.  While it sounds rather macabre, it was still fascinating.  Only Grauballe Man was on display at the museum, but there were pictures of other bog people who had been found around Denmark.  Amazing that the man died 1700 years ago, and they can tell he was about 30 years old, had fractured a bone in his youth, and his last meal!  Really cool.

From Aarhus I hatched a plan to visit yet another Aquarium.  I learned there was one with a Shark center in Grenaa, in the same county as Aarhus.  I also found out there might be bus from Grenaa to Copenhagen.  Of course, this was the bus the tourist office insisted did not exist.  The Kattegatcentret was really cool, the shark center was amazing.  Unfortunately, I had to leave at 2 PM to catch the last bus back from the Aquarium to meet the possibly non-existent bus to Copenhagen.

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Hamlet’s Kronborg Castle

The bus did exist!  Interestingly the bus was loaded onto a boat, which then crossed the Kattegat from Jutland to Zealand for 75 minutes.  This was so more interesting than taking the train again.  I arrived in Copenhagen at 7 PM, and headed in search of a place to stay.  I found the loud, noisy, crowded City Public Hostel located in the perfect spot and surprisingly a great place to stay for four nights.

Copenhagen at last!  I had only a few days left and so much to see.  After gorgeous sunny weather for 10 days, it turned cold with on again off again rain.  The wind was very strong.  I bought a Copenhagen card, which gives free entry into a number of museums, and discounted entry on others, plus free transport on buses, trains, metro and harbor buses in North Zealand for three days.  In order to get the most of this it meant I had to run around like crazy, riding buses for fun, but it turned out pretty well.

On my first day I headed north to Rosenborg Castle.  Built over three small islands in a lake, the site is simply impressive.  Lucky for me it rained only when I was inside and then became sunny again when I came out.  I took a boat around the lake to get more views of the castle (and because it was free with my Copenhagen Card) and then sprinted to the train station so that I could get to Helsingør.  The tourist office told me there was another train.  Why I continued to believe the Danish tourist offices…the train only went halfway, and then I had a 30-minute wait for the next train out on a cold and windy platform, all by my lonesome.  The whole time muttering under my breath about how I was never going to trust the tourist office again.  Then to Helsingør, the famous Elsinore of Shakespeare’s Hamlet.  Kronborg Castle, where Shakespeare set his dramatic play, is built on a promontory, the closest piece of land between Denmark and Sweden.  The castle was built with defense purposes in mind, and for the collection of the unpopular government “Sound Dues,” a toll paid by all ships passing from the Baltic to the North Sea.  The weather was just rainy and cool enough to imagine how on a dark night Hamlet’s father’s ghost would have haunted the ramparts.

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View of Copenhagen from the spiral staircase atop the Church of Our Savior

The following day I visited Roskilde, the Viking capital of Denmark, where the Cathedral, a UNESCO world heritage site, contains the sarcophagi of 39 Danish Kings and Queens.  From Harold Bluetooth to the parents of the current queen Magarethe II.  Rather awe inspiring.  It was the Viking Ship museum that really interested me though.  Five Viking ships were raised after hundreds of years sunk in the waters of Roskilde Fjord.  Over the course of 10 years the wooden ships were restored and put on display in this amazing museum.  They are also in the process of building one of the war ships using Viking tools with plans to sail it to Dublin.

On my final full day in Copenhagen I ran around to more museums and more castles; the sun was back out again, no more rain clouds in sight.  I also met my friends from Singapore on their first day in Denmark.  Though I was to leave the following day we agreed to meet just one more time before I headed to the airport.  We decided to visit the Carlsberg Brewery for a tour.

This is where I should break in and preface this particular part of the story. First of all, I rarely drink. I am not a complete teetotaler, but I probably average two drinks a year.  Yet, I really enjoy factory tours and, for some reason, especially those associated with alcoholic beverages.  This also happened before I became a diplomat.  Actually, I just cannot bring myself to reveal the full story to all in this forum.  At any rate, it involved a rare drink of alcohol just before heading to the airport, a pocket knife, which I used solely to cut bread, cheese, and vegetables to make sandwiches while staying in hostels, a mistake placing said knife into my carry on instead of checked bag, a burly airport security officer, and a police report.  Every few years I get to discuss it again during my security clearance review.  Sigh.  I have not returned to Denmark since and I would love to do so with my daughter, so I hope enough time has passed so I do not have to spend some extra time explaining this particular tale at immigration. 

This is the end of the account of my Summer of 2003 travel extravaganza.  I really enjoyed re-reading my trip notes, though I regret that I do not have more pictures.  I did more and saw more than I remembered.  I could have seen more had I not been willing to take the slow route, less direct route to and from many places.  I am thoroughly impressed with the dedication I showed to the journey.   I used so many types of transport-planes, buses, trains, boats; I did a fair amount of walking.  This is not how I travel these days.  Not a value judgement, not better or worse, just different.  Always an adventure.

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Summer 2003: Adventures in Turkey, Borneo, and Denmark Part 5: To Be or Not to Be

After a month in Turkey and ten days on Borneo, I headed next to Denmark of all places.  Friends of mine from Singapore would be starting a semester-long program as part of their MBA and I arranged to be there around the time of their arrival so we might have a few days in Copenhagen together.  The changes were dramatic – in travel style, costs, the quality of public transport, and local reactions. 

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Egeskov Castle

It turns out that spending two entire weeks only traveling around Denmark is unusual.  Most people I have met are in transit between various European countries and Scandinavia and Denmark is a convenient little country to travel through.  When people ask me, “Where else have you been in Europe?” and I answer “Just Denmark” (it’s difficult to explain the Turkey trip), I get some strange looks.  “JUST DENMARK?” they ask incredulously.  And when they ask “How long?” and I reply “two weeks,” the response is even more shocked.  “TWO WEEKS JUST IN DENMARK???  But it’s so…. small.”

Denmark is a lovely little country.  Until the final few days, when the weather turned a bit arctic, I had perfect weather.  Sunny, warm, beautiful blue skies.  I lucked out to be there during a European heatwave, ensuring I did not have to wear the same sweater and pants the entire two weeks.  Denmark is full of historical sites from the Stone Age to the Viking Age, from the Medieval Period to the Renaissance.  City and town centers are full of beautiful architecture and cobble stone streets.  There are bicycle lanes in the cities and all over the country.  There is also a lot of recycling and the use of alternative-natural means of electricity, evidenced by the many windmills in the countryside.  Also, the handicapped are out and about.  With ramps everywhere, it is one of the best countries I have seen with so much care for the physically handicapped in public places.

It is also very orderly and clean.  The public transport is good, clean, and efficient.  The standard train car made my Indonesian Super Deluxe Executive Coach look like it was some kind of battle ravaged vehicle.  People form lines and stay in them!!  There is no queue jumping or the kind of pushing and shoving I have seen so much of in Asia.  I enjoy seeing the Danes out with their dogs, taking them to the museum, on walking tours, to the supermarket and so on.

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A curved house on a curved cobblestone road, Ribe

Denmark certainly does not pose the same kind of travel challenges as other countries I have been.  For instance, I have not had to run the gauntlet of tea-wooing would-be Lotharios.  Not even a single pass!  There are also no gigantic insects that instill fear in me like the particularly large cockroach, which ensured my last night in Malaysia was a sleepless one.  There are no long overnight bus trips, or bus trips that have me praying to a higher power.  I am not even immediately identifiable as a foreigner.  I have had most people address me in Danish, even come up to me on the street to ask me for directions, thinking I am a local.  I even managed to help somebody!  Denmark is not all that hard to travel around, but it is not without its challenges. The greatest challenge is of course trying to survive on a budget.

But not all is perfect; there are some things rotten in the State of Denmark.  For one I had expected the trains and buses to run on time.  I have only had one train arrive on time.  Then as soon as I got on and got comfortable, it underwent “technical difficulties.”  We waited just long enough so that I missed my connecting train by six minutes.  Tourist offices have seemed to me a little bit inept.  They are helpful, but then give INCOMPLETE information.  Thank you very much for the train and boat schedule to get to the island, but it would have been nice if you noticed the schedule was not good until SEPTEMBER.  Also, thanks for telling me the canal boat stopped at the tourist village so I would walk all the way down there, only to find out it DID NOT.

There are also the store hours.  Kind of drives me crazy that stores shut shop in the middle of Copenhagen at 5:30 in the evening.  Only a few supermarkets might stay open until the wee hour of 8 pm!  For someone from the States where we have 24-hour stores and restaurants, or even from Singapore where shopping reigns supreme, this is extremely hard to become accustomed to.

At any rate I arrived in Denmark at 2:30 PM, seven hours after originally scheduled to arrive.  The flight from Bangkok had been cancelled due to “mechanical failure” and rescheduled for the following morning.  So much for getting to Denmark bright and early.  I managed to get out of immigration relatively quickly and headed directly to the transportation counter.  As I would be meeting friends in Copenhagen at the tail end of the trip, I wanted to head out of the city as soon as possible.  I picked a nice spot on the island of Zealand, Sørø, and headed to the train.

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A Medieval church being swallowed by sand dunes

Sørø is supposed to be a lovely little historical town on the banks of a lake.  I say supposed because although I did indeed go to Sørø, I saw almost nothing of the place.  I arrived at 5:05 PM, just after the tourist office closed.  That did not really matter as I was not in town but at the train station two kilometers away.  I stop to ask a woman for directions so I can walk to town, but she points at a bus and tells me to run for it.  And although I have never met this woman before in my life, when she tells me to run, I do.  The bus took me to town, nowhere near the hostel.  Not sure what to do, I went to the public library.  I checked the hostel contact info and then asked the librarian if there were a public phone nearby.  There wasn’t, but a man at the counter with his daughter said I could borrow his cell phone. Someone at the hostel answers and tells me they have beds available but the buses have stopped running and a taxi costs as much as a bed.  The man asks me what happened, then offers to drive me.

Except the hostel is nearly deserted.  There are a few guests in the kitchen, but no staff to be found.  I leave my bag at the desk and search the place, but nope, nobody.  I have no food and the hostel is in the middle of nowhere.  No restaurants, no gas stations, no market.  A young couple let me use THEIR cell phone to call some B&Bs; they are all full but one.  It turns out to be eight kilometers north of town, while I am now at the deserted hostel eight kilometers south of town.  The couple says they will drive me and even stop off at a petrol station on the way so I can buy some food.  I arrive at the B&B and pay 250 kroner for a very nice room, just out of my budget but I am happy to have a place to stay.  I must have looked hungry because an Italian family also staying there took one look at me and asked if I would like to join them for a homecooked meal.  They shared their pasta, fruit, bread, cake, and ice cream.  For my first day in Denmark I saw nothing my first day but with the kindness of some really amazing strangers managed to have a really wonderful day!

The following day the owner of the B&B dropped me off at the train station on the way to taking her daughter to daycare.  From there I headed to Odense, Denmark’s third largest city.  This time the hostel was located right next to the train station and was staffed!  It was a good hostel and a really nice town, where I spent three days.  First, I explored the town, through the historic center on a guidebook walking tour and then visited the Hans Christian Anderson Museum.  The museum was fabulous, full of information about his life and times.  H.C. Anderson was born in Odense and was told by a fortune teller at a young age that one day the city would light up the streets in his honor.  At the age of 14 he went off to Copenhagen to seek his fortune and ended up writing some of the world’s most famous children’s tales.

On the second day I took a bus south to Egeskov Castle, where I spent nearly four hours.  Had I children I could have spent longer as there are so many things to do there on the grounds.  The castle interior is just a small part of the whole experience.  There is also a maze to get lost and walkways through the trees some 15 meters off the ground.  There was a cool museum full of antique cars and even a bizarre place called Dracula’s crypt, which seemed merely a dark tunnel where people walked through expecting any moment for something to jump out, but nothing does.  It was a fun day.

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Standing where the Baltic and North Seas meet

On the third day I meant to go to the island of Ærø, but due to the incorrect train information from the tourist office that did not happen.  Instead I spent another day in Odense.

My next stop was the small town of Ribe, located in the southern part of Jutland.  Founded around 700 A.D., Ribe is the oldest town in Denmark.  First a Viking town, then a medieval one, Ribe was an important port and market center between Scandinavia and the rest of Europe.  The old medieval houses are indicative of Ribe’s prime, when it was one of the largest and most important cities in Denmark.  The town boasts the country’s oldest Cathedral and Scandinavia’s oldest school.  On a fantastic free walking tour with a night watchman dressed in period clothes, I could stop in front of the house of the last woman in the town burned at the stake for witchcraft and also see the town’s smallest house.  In the Middle Ages it was important to build one’s house close to the road and people wanted to maximize their house size as much as possible, and therefore if the road curved, so then did the house.  Thus, there are lovely cobble stone streets closely hugged by crooked little half-timber houses.  Though not very many of these old houses remain, the homes built around 1580 are not all that new either, and the town is full of those too.  A number of disasters, a great fire in 1580 which wiped out 11 blocks or one third of the town, fifty-four years later a massive flood raises water six meters above normal levels, 25 years later the bubonic plague wipes out a third of the population, and the building of another port and the growing importance of the capital at Copenhagen, ended Ribe’s days as a major center of commerce, preserving it as it was at the end of the middle ages.

Then I headed north, to the Northern most part of Denmark, to the unpronounceable  Hjorring.  I stayed there two nights, heading one day to Hirtschalls and another to Skagen.  In Hirtshalls the main thing I wanted to see was an aquarium.  I am really keen on aquariums and had heard this one was good, and I was not disappointed.  The second day I took a bus to Skagen, the northernmost point of Denmark and stood on a promontory where two seas crash together, the Kattegat and the Skagerrak.  It was rather calm that day, but still standing just where they meet, in what was at first very cold water, I could feel the power of the water as they met and mixed at my feet.  And it was such a lovely day, due to the heat wave everyone and their families and dogs were out enjoying the beach and the sun.  I walked along the beach for hours back to the town, stopping at a lighthouse, and then cycling out to a buried church, buried by the shifting sands.  The town too was lovely and historical, and a famous place for artists because of the “light.”  Being the northern most point of Denmark, at 10 in the evening in August it was still light outside and this light reflecting off the sea and the sand has apparently drawn artists to the location for hundreds of years.  All I know is that it was a beautiful little town and I immediately regretted staying only one day.

Summer 2003 Adventures in Turkey, Borneo, and Denmark Part Four: Borneo Unplanned

My continuing summer 2003 journey found me next flying from Turkey back to Southeast Asia, landing in Brunei to spend 12 days on the island of Borneo.  I honestly cannot remember at all why I opted for this particularly itinerary.  Even by my sometimes strange travel patterns, this one strikes me as odd.  I wrote that I did not know where I would be going or what I would see.  I had a few ideas in my head, but no reservations other than the flights in and out of Brunei.  But lack of plans often leads to the best of travel.  My big regret on this trip is not taking any pictures in that cat museum…

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Happy Birthday to the Bruneian Sultan

Brunei. I arrived first in Brunei, incredibly my second trip to the sultanate.  There was actually a surprising amount going on as it was the Sultan’s birthday and celebrations were in full swing.  There was traffic!  On my previous visit I felt like I could walk down the street of the main road of the capital city and not be concerned for my safety.  This time it seemed people actually live in Brunei.

I only stayed in Brunei a single day so I could visit Jerudong Playground.  The amusement park is the largest and most expensive in Southeast Asia, a gift from the Sultan to the people of Brunei on his 48th birthday.  For many years the park charged no admission fee, but now for the price of 15 Brunei dollars (about US$9) one can go on all the rides unlimited times.  Due to the heat of the day, the park is only open in the late afternoon to evening, from 4 PM to 11 PM.  And it was nearly deserted. There was myself, two other guys from the hostel, and perhaps 10 other people.  We seemed to be the only ones riding the rides.  Two Indian guys just seemed to be taking pictures of themselves in various poses. The few people with children seemed confined to the playground portion. We basically had the park to ourselves. Rather like a childhood dream come true.

Except that one always has in the back of one’s head “Be careful what you wish for.” There were no lines in this amusement park. In fact, the rides were not even running until we stepped up with our tickets and then the ride operator would start it up, and then turn it off as we went away. We went on every ride that we could, sometimes two or three times.  We did the log ride three times so we could each have a chance to sit in the front, the back, and the middle! On a mini rollercoaster, which was not so much scary as a bit rickety, we did not even stop when we came to the loading area, we just rode right through for a second time around.  I said I sincerely hoped that they would not do that on the big scary loop de loop roller coaster on the other side of the park, because I would seriously need a breather between rides there. At least that guy gave us a few minutes before firing it up again. I had to get off while the other guys went for the third time. Two times in a row was plenty fine for me. By the end we were quite bored having done everything in the park in two hours, except the children’s rides, which although we begged to ride, they would not let us.

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Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysia, Borneo

The following morning, I woke up at 6:30 AM so I could be packed up and at the bus station for a 7:30 AM bus to Miri in the Malaysian state of Sarawak.  Good thing I was there early as the bus left at 7:15. And thus began the crazy bus circus to Miri and the whole day of travel to get to Kuching, because for some reason there was not enough demand for a direct flight between Brunei and Kuching, the capital of Sarawak….Someone suggested I take the bus gauntlet from Brunei to Miri and fly to Kuching. Or to take a bus to a boat to a flight to a flight. Or a flight from Brunei to Sabah to Sarawak. It all sounded incredibly complicated for a place a little over an hour flight away.

I opted for the bus trip to Miri. This bus went for two hours to the town of Seria, where I waited ten minutes before boarding another bus to Kuala Beliat.  From Kuala Beliat I waited 40 minutes before boarding a bus which took us literally five minutes away to a ferry crossing; we took the ferry and boarded another bus on the other side. That bus took us to the Malaysian/Brunei border where we all disembarked and went through immigration, then boarded yet another bus to town.

In Miri, I needed to take a bus to the airport. Some taxi drivers tried to convince me there was no bus coming for HOURS, but upon inspection of the bus schedule I found one arriving in ten minutes.  I arrived at the airport at 2 PM, just 40 minutes before the flight I wanted was to take off.  That plane was to fly from Miri to Bintulu to Sibu to Kuching (my final destination), but it was full.  I then had to take the 5:30 flight. There was very little to do in the brand spanking new Miri International Airport as the restaurant and ATM and coffee shop had yet to open…But luckily the plush chairs for the opening ceremony were still sitting out front in what would be the drop off area for taxis someday, and these chairs had no arm rests, so I could lay out and take a nap….in time to take my flight to Kuching, where I arrived at 6:30 pm. Only to find that now there were no more buses running and I had to take a taxi to town. By the time I got settled in my new hostel, it had taken more than 12 hours to get from Brunei to Kuching, what could have been just over an hour flight…

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This is one very large flower

Kuching.  The capital of the Malaysian state of Sarawak means “cat” in Malay, so little wonder that one of the first things I thought to do in Kuching was to go to the Cat Museum a little way out of town.  This has got to be one of the most bizarre collections of cat paraphernalia in the world and not a place for people who do not like cats.  Besides displays of kitschy cat posters and books, displays of Garfield and Hello Kitty, and information on the wild cats of Sarawak, there were also some REALLY interesting exhibits.  Such as the display for veterinary equipment or cat food. (was it really necessary to put cat food into class cases and label it?) There was also an interesting display on “famous” movies about cats such as Disney’s 1979 movie “The Cat from Outer Space.”  What interested me more were the cat horror films such as the movie “Eye of the Cat” (year not given) which had a poster describing the movie as “if you have ailurophobia (the fear of cats) this picture could send you beyond the point of normal fear.” Then there was the 1982 classic “The Cat People.”  My favorite just might have been the 1974 “Night of a Thousand Cats” which had the fascinating plot described as “Alone only a harmless pet…one thousand strong they become a man-eating machine! When the cats are hungry…Run for your lives!”  I cannot figure out why I have not seen that amazing movie! There were displays of cats in history, such as ancient Egypt and different kinds of cat products like the Black Cat cigarette – the 1920s bestselling cigarette in the UK!  Finally, there was a display of famous people who owned and loved cats such as Abraham Lincoln, Florence Nightingale, Victor Hugo (who had a special armchair made for his cat), Henri Matisse, and Isaac Newton (supposedly the inventor of the cat door!). Ah, the Kuching Cat Museum, a real treat!

I also visited the Sarawak museum, considered one of the best museums in Southeast Asia.  Although half of it was closed, it had some good displays on indigenous tribes.  The downstairs though was full of the flora and fauna to be found in the jungles, which means lots of stuffed animals staring out at me.  It was a bit scary, even the cute animals were scary.  Since they were all stuffed at the turn of the last century (i.e. about 1900) I didn’t know if it was the wear and tear of the stuffed beasts or some kind of technique of early 20th century taxidermists to make even the tamest of jungle animals seem terrifying.  The Chinese Heritage Museum too was equally interesting.  Though neither were quite equal to the Cat Museum.

I really wanted to visit the Orangutan Rehabilitation Center as it is, as far as I know, only one of three in the world.  To get there I decided not to take a tour, but to get there on my own steam.  Good thing too because I did not see a single orangutan!  The others paid 35 Ringgit for their tour, while I paid 2 Ringgit for the bus there, 3 Ringgit back, and 3 Ringgit to get into the park.  What a bargain since I did not see what I went there to see.  Instead I was treated to some very obnoxious children with their more obnoxious parents.  They made so much noise that no orangutan in his/her right mind would appear before our mob.

The next day, though exhausted and a bit deflated from the failed orangutan outing and unsure I wanted to risk a two-hour one-way bus trip to be disappointed again, I headed to Gunung Gading National Park.  The rare Rafflesia, the largest flower in the world, was in bloom.  It has a gestation period of nine or ten months, blooms for only five days, then dies.  It smells of rotten meat to attract flies, which transport its pollen.  Sounds delightful, right? Again, I decided to go it on my own rather than take the 80 Ringgit tour.  It cost ½ Ringgit to get to the bus station and then eight Ringgit to take the bus, plus another two Ringgit to get to the park, 20 Ringgit for the guide shared with two people, and five Ringgit to get into the park.  And I saw it!  As it was the last day in bloom, it didn’t smell (probably a good thing).  It felt more like a mushroom than a flower, almost like it wasn’t real, like plastic.  It was very cool.

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Hanging with the kids at the resettlement camp school

Pontianak. From Kuching I took a ten-hour bus to Pontianak, Indonesia to visit some Internally Displaced Persons resettlement villages.  I slept almost the entire bus ride.  Arriving in Pontianak around 7 PM, I first looked for a place to stay.  My first cheapie choice was full, but I found a lovely two star across the street that was having a special promotion.  I had a whole room, tv, air-con, in-suite bath with HOT water, all for US$10!  But I made the mistake of going out.  A guy on motorbike offered to give me a ride for no charge.  Less than a minute later we were stopped by a policeman because I was sans helmet.  The police took the guy’s license.  For some reason the resolution involved us riding out to his Kampung (village) outside of Pontianak to his house (the whole 30-minute ride I had no helmet, the irony). I met his wife, his child, his neighbors.  They offered for me to stay there that evening, but I declined.  I borrowed his wife’s helmet, we rode back to the police station where I paid a fine (10,000 rupiah, a little more than US$1), then he drove me to my original destination two minutes from the police station, by then closed for the night!

I spent much of the next day in Pontianak enjoying my hotel, walking across town to the museum, and checking in at the Internet cafe.  The walk to the museum took longer than expected, especially in the heat, and I was disappointed to find it closed but swarming with junior high school children.  A guard was enticed to open the museum for me while some random guy volunteered to be my guide.  Although some exhibits had English signs, he still insisted on trying to explain them to me in broken English.  The following day I visited one of the resettlement villages outside of Pontianak.  Over the course of my graduate degree I had researched this issue several times and with a contact working with the International Organization for Migration, I was able to organize a visit.  This is a village where internally displaced people from ethnic conflicts in Kalimantan (Indonesian Borneo) have been placed, though some of the people have been “displaced” in the village for as long as four years.

Another long bus ride back to Sarawak then a flight found me in Miri wondering about how I spent more time on different forms of transport than any particular place.  I meant to go on a longhouse tour, maybe go to Bako National Park and the Niah Caves, but I didn’t do those things.  And I didn’t see the orangutans.  But I once heard something to the effect that it is good to have in mind an end to a journey, but it is the journey itself that matters in the end.  So much journeying here in Borneo…