Kuching - the Cat City

I had originally planned to try to make a day trip over to the scenic Bako National Park from Kuching the following day, but I realized that a few days in a row hiking through the thick, humid rainforests of Borneo might be a little more effort than I wanted, hoping to just spend a quiet day or two in Kuching before finishing up the Malaysian portion of my trip and heading back to Singapore. So after the chaos in my room the night before, I just decided to sleep in a bit and then spent the day walking around the city. Kuching is a very multi-ethnic city (in Malaysian terms) with a fairly even split between Chinese, Malaysian, and some other indigenous Bornean groups. With this being the case, I found a few small streets in the Chinese areas with simple shops selling all sorts of packaged foods, household goods and any other random piece of cheap equipment that you could need, all crammed into these open-fronted stores, packed wall to wall with a few narrow walking lanes to survey the collection unique to each store, though there's typically a fairly similar base of items. I particularly like the peanut-brittle type candy that they have, buying a huge bag of the stuff which is basically a peanut and sesame mix, held together with probably some sort of sugary syrup and then possibly baked to make it just a little bit crunchy. I had discovered the stuff in Malaysia earlier in the trip and had since forgot about it, as they don't have it much in Indonesia. So I picked up a big pack to carry along with me under my arm, reaching for piece after piece while walking down the pleasant, tree-lined, open streets of the East side of the city, realizing that I have little to no self control when it comes to food, especially sweet food/candy, though that was really no surprise to me, so my large bag was soon empty, and I was really thirsty thanks to all of the salt and nuts.

Walking around the area, I found the symbol of Kuching, a huge white plaster cat with blue eyes and one outstretched paw, in the fashion of the lucky cat figurines sold all over China and Japan. Behind the 10 foot tall cat stands a nice, ornate Chinese gateway opening up over one of the roads heading into the city, giving guests a warm feline welcome to the Cat City. Not far from there, another roundabout stands with a few smaller cats around a pillar, greeting each entrant into the roundabout. Then, just another few minutes from that point, the second most famous monument features a pedestal with six or eight large cat statues playing with each other, overlooking the main road that lines the river. On top of the statues, the numerous tourist shops lining the boardwalk feature any and all variations of cat figures, shirts, kitchen accessories and any other thing onto which you can plaster a cat. Ironically, none of the statues or souvenirs had the kinked/broken/stunted tail that almost every cat in Malaysia and Indonesia seem to have, looking as though they either had part of the tail chopped off or folded in half over itself, but I guess that's a genetic thing.

As I walked the streets, I stumbled across a few more historical buildings and the appropriately stately State Mosque, standing tall at the edge of the city, though this city is not exclusively Muslim, so there was also a nearby Sikh Temple with a few golden domes of its own, along with a few small Chinese Buddhist temples with the traditional stone lions standing guard at the gates. Wandering through town, I began looking for food, and, with Ramadan in full force, this was again not an easy task, though I eventually stumbled on a tiny shop with a few sheets covering the front entrance (to not offend those who do not eat during the daytime) and found some cheap roti canai, though it didn't tide me over for long. Moving down towards the boardwalk, I found the potential for many riverside cafes, though none of them were open during the day, taunting me with their menus and pictures posted on the small huts that serve as the restaurants with a few tables along the sidewalk. I eventually held out until sundown, contemplating getting one of the slightly more expensive Ramadan buffets offered as a hearty way to break the fast during the day, though I almost couldn't resist the sights and smells of the buffet at the Hilton hotel. The various skewers, chili and peanut sauces, numerous noodle dishes, fresh fruits and many other mouth-watering dishes enticed me to pass by the outdoor buffet three or four times, seriously contemplating a massive, wonderful feast, though I couldn't justify the price in the end. In a place where I can eat a tasty plate of noodles for about $2, I couldn't justify spending $25-30 on the buffet, though it was a tough decision. I finally settled for one of the small noodle houses along the river, getting a Thai inspired basil noodle dish that was decent and cheap, but it certainly wasn't as spectacular as the buffet would have been (or at least how I imagined it in my mind).

My other mission for the day was to get a haircut while in Malaysia, as I like trying to get haircuts in other countries, mostly because it's almost always way cheaper than in the US. This turned out to be a fairly easy task, especially given that so many Malaysians speak English, so I found a simple barber shop in the Chinese district, and after comparing a few prices, I sat down for a simple, uneventful $4 haircut and wash, preparing as much as I could for getting to Singapore, South Korea and Japan where things would be significantly more expensive. My next night at the cheap, cramped hostel was much better, which just a bit of British snoring to deal with, much simpler than the drunken college-style mess from the night before.

(One of the buildings across the river in downtown Kuching. The boardwalk is lined with a few nice street cafes overlooking the river, only opening after the sun went down...that Ramadan thing again. Also, the Hilton had an amazing buffet that smelled and looked incredible, and I was really, really close to splurging on the dinner, though I couldn't justify paying literally seven times what I was paying for my cheap hostel room for just one dinner. $3.50 vs $25 for those that were wondering.)

(The Istana Palace sits across the river further down, shining back across to the South side of the river and the center of town.)

(Kuching means cat in Malaysian, so the city features various statues of cats greeting visitors.)

(More cats facing all directions near a roundabout on the East side of town.)

(I found a nice, less-touristed area between a few of the cat statues, featuring tree-lined streets and some Chinese restaurants and shops. I also got a cheap haircut down this road, as I like to try my luck with haircuts in the countries I visit, especially since it's almost always cheaper than back home.)

(Though it's a Muslim country, there are still some pockets of strong Buddhism and Christianity. I'll let you guess which one this is.)

(The gates to a little Chinatown in Kuching, near a chaotic pedestrian shopping street and the State Mosque.)

(The State Mosque standing at the edge of downtown. I have no idea what those things in the grass are.)

(I believe this was a police precinct or something. I just liked all the pretty colors. I also love the Sarawak state flag, which you can see with the yellow, red and black. It's the one that's not a rip-off of a certain flag from my home country.)

(Another temple and its guardian dragon/dog thing.)

(This cat is the largest and most popular one, standing at the East edge of downtown, with nice Chinese style gates straddling the road behind it.)

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Kuching and Kubah National Park

Kuching means cat in Malaysian, and I'm not quite sure of the origins of the name of the city, but the city embraces their name with cat statues and pictures greeting you at various places around the city. I arrived in Kuching around 5 in the morning, having to wait until 6:30 to take the local bus from the long distance bus station into the center of town to find a place to drop my bags and go exploring for the day. The city is the capital of Sarawak (one of the two states in Malaysian Borneo), and it's definitely the biggest city anywhere in the area, also serving as a jumping off point for some travelers heading down to Indonesia, as the border is fairly close to the city in this final corner of Malaysia. On the ride into town, I found a fairly modern city, a few cat statues and eventually the riverfront area around which the tourist area is centered with some traditional shops and somewhat attractive storefronts, along with a few old and/or colorful buildings. I walked for a while and found my hostel on the other end of the main road, getting one of the cheapest places of my whole trip for only $3.50 a night for a shared room with 6 others, though it definitely wasn't all that clean or nice. I didn't mind, though, as I wanted to save any money I could at this point, getting ready for the price jump that I'd encounter in Singapore and particularly Japan.

After I walked around the city for a few hours, it was still early, so I decided to take a day trip over to Kubah National Park, just about 45 minutes outside of town. Unfortunately there weren't really any direct buses, but I managed to find a local minibus that gathered up some locals going in the same direction, and I soon got to the park, paying a little more than I should have, but it was still only a few dollars, so I didn't mind. Kubah National Park is the closest park to Kuching, and it is known for its huge variety of palms and frogs, though I'm not quite sure if those two facts are related or not. I was just looking for another typical Bornean rainforest, and I was attracted by the 'Waterfall Trail.' This is also way less popular than Bako National Park, along the coast, so I found the park almost empty. I spoke with the friendly ranger to get some ideas for the hikes, and then I was off, heading up the steep, paved road to the first trailhead. As usual, I was starting to sweat almost immediately, though I was able to find a bit of shade for a few stops. Down some steep banks, I scrambled to a few small, rocky cascades through the green forest, trying not to step in any holes where animals may be lurking.

I was happy to find that the Waterfall Trail was mostly downhill, a nice break after my steep climb up, though I was dreading the return part of the trip. The heavily wooded trail was similar to a few others that I had seen, covered in palms, ferns and towering trees, creating a mostly unbroken canopy above to keep the sunlight off for a little while. I passed just two or three people and came to the huge rock shelves through which the river has cut its way, walking along the wide, flat rocks, making sure to not slip on the fallen leaves covering parts of the rocks. Up to the left, I found a small waterfall dropping over a rock wall that looked like a stack of thin rocks piled on top of each other, revealing some of the layering process that created the area. Ahead and to the right, a much larger cascade spilled over similarly stacked rocks, creating a wide wall of water falling about 20 feet to a small pool below and then moving down through the stream amongst the boulders. While leaving, I noticed something on the edge of the rocks and saw a long, thin snake gliding around on the smooth surface. The dark green snake didn't appear to be dangerous to me, though it was a different story for the live frog dangling from the snake's jaws. I took a few pictures that I eventually showed the ranger, but he didn't know what kind of snake it was.

From the waterfalls, I climbed back up the steep trail, over roots and logs, though I veered off towards one of the other trails, sort of making my way back to the entrance and crossing over a ridge where a few trails converged, surrounded by a picturesque grove of tall, skinny trees shooting up to the darkening sky. Just a few minutes later, the rain came, and I was lucky enough to find a tiny shelter near the ridge, so I waited out the 20 minute storm, and then I made my way back down to the park entrance, tired from my recent treks and lack of sleep, along with the tropical sun sapping the energy out of me.

The buses back from the park were the hard part of the whole travel equation, since they don't really come at any set time. The ranger mentioned that if I was still around at 5, he could take me back to the city (for a small fee), but it was only about 2:30, so I figured I'd just start walking, hoping that I'd find a ride or a bus. If not, the main road was about 45 minutes away, so I just headed in that direction. Again, I wasn't too fond of walking in the hot sun, but I thought it would be my best option. Soon I got into a good rhythm and was barely sweating, making my way mostly downhill to the junction. Just before I made it, a nice university professor stopped and offered me a ride, so I jumped in, though he only took me about five minutes down the road to the bus stop, but that was good enough for me. I waited at the bus stop for about an hour, not seeing any sign of the minibuses that I hoped to find. Eventually, a driver with a sort of modified tow truck stopped for me, offering to take me to the main road back to Kuching, so I again jumped in and went along for the ride. We talked a bit about America (everyone has their own opinions on the country), and soon we passed a bus, so he sped up and beat the bus to the next stop, letting me off just in time to jump on the bus and get back downtown before the evening and more rain came. Back in Kuching, after the vicious storm of rain and wind passed, I walked along the waterfront, finding it a bit quiet due to Ramadan, though a few of the views of the stately buildings across the river were nice. This was a British colonial city at one time, so a few palaces and state buildings still remain from the time, giving Kuching just a slight bit of the historical feel that so many tourist cities try to harness these days. Just across the water is the Astana, built as one of the palaces for the local rulers during the colonial time, as well as Fort Margherita standing atop one of the hills across the river. The boxy fort looks picturesque and a bit imposing from the outside, but a few other travelers told me that the inside is basically barren, so it's a sight much better appreciated from afar, leaving your imagination to fill in what weapons and furnishings could have occupied the military post, named for one of the early settler's wives.

Back in the hostel, a few young roommates were just learning about the joys (and pitfalls) of independence, cheap alcohol and time away from their families, creating quite a bit of noise while first congregating in the room before I finally hinted that they may want to move outside around midnight. Then, around four in the morning, the group barged back in, loudly recounting their night to each other and waking every single person in the hostel as they banged repeatedly on the bathroom doors, since one of their friends had apparently passed out in the bathroom behind the locked door. Another of my partying roommates was throwing up right about the same time in the garbage bin, then basically passing out on his bed, as I hoped that would be all for the night/morning. I finally managed a little sleep, but it wasn't one of my more pleasant nights in a shared room. Fortunately, the majority of the group left the next day, so I was hoping for a more peaceful experience after that.

(More hot, humid, lush rainforest of Borneo, this time at Kubah National Park. This park is known for its large variety of palms and frogs, though I'm not sure if those two facts are related.)

(Near the top of the trail, there was a set of three waterfalls, along with a fourth one just to the left of this picture.)

(The falls were a little slippery, but I wisely made my way along the wet rocks to take this picture.)

(This is the fourth waterfall that you couldn't see before. The park was hot and humid with lots of hills, so I was pretty sweaty at this point.)

(Just downstream from the waterfalls, I noticed some movement in the leaves on these rocks, and I actually saw a snake slithering along.)

(He didn't seem to care about the incredible biodiversity of the frog species in the park, as he was carrying one of them away in his mouth.)

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Amazing Caves at Niah

Brunei wasn't big enough for me and the sultan, so one of us had to go, and it obviously wasn't going to be the sultan. My day and a half spent in the country were plenty to see the stately mosques and unique city, and after the noodle eating competition, I felt I had made my mark, and it was time to move on. Just before the bus left, in an effort to spend the last of my Brunei dollars, I found a tiny market and bought a whole dragonfruit, one of my favorite tropical fruits from the area. It's kind of like a mix of a pineapple shape with artichoke type leaves that you peel off to reveal either a magenta or white fleshy ball inside with tons of tiny black, edible seeds throughout. The fruit is sweet and a little bit sticky, and it made a perfect breakfast for the bus ride, unlike the roti canai with a plastic bag full of curry that an American girl was trying to eat without spilling all over herself.

I was soon in the town of Miri, a pleasant enough place near the coast where I decided I'd spend the night, though the city itself didn't have any huge attractions given my limited schedule. Walking around, I did find a small shopping mall where I stumbled upon a so-called talent competition. The participants were mostly 30 to 60 year old Chinese women, singing bad Chinese folk and pop songs, some even dressed up in traditional costumes or pseudo-cowgirl outfits. I could only stand a few minutes of the wailing, so I moved on, looking for some food. Again, with Ramadan, many of the local places were closed, but I found a small food court with a cheap Indian food stand, so I got a tray full of rice, bread and curry (and my beloved roti canai), and I actually ran into the three American girls that I had seen in Brunei and on the bus, who turned out to be English teaches in different parts of Malaysia.

My hostel for the night was good enough, but it was one of the biggest rooms that I've stayed in, containing something like 20-30 beds (10-15 bunk beds) in the huge room. This also meant someone (or multiple people) would be snoring, so I put in my earplugs and fell asleep. The next day, I caught the bus a few hours down the coast to Batu Niah, the entranceway to Niah Caves National Park. The bus didn't actually go to the park, so I had to get off at the junction and catch a taxi/local car to the park from there, bargaining down to a pretty cheap price. I was a little hesitant to get off the bus, though, as it was really comfortable, and I had the perfect spot, with lots of legroom in the front row, and the seats were split with just one large seat on one side and two on the other, so I had the one to myself, perfectly comfortable, plenty of room and a nice view of the road ahead. That would have been nice for the long bus ride ahead of me later that day, but I really wanted to see the park, so I made the stop.

The weather didn't look great that day, and, as before, it can basically rain at any time in Borneo, so I headed to the entrance, hoping I'd get lucky. I first had to take a tiny boat across a muddy river to get to the walkway, and then the track proceeded for a few miles on a boardwalk or a well-kept trail through the rainforest, luckily providing a few shelters for the passing rain that came and went. Huge palms, strangler figs, ferns and other plants lined the track through the greenery, gradually revealing a few hints of caves and creeks below. Then we began climbing up a series of inclines and steps, cresting the stairs to see the track was now protected by a limestone overhang with some stalactites poking down on the other side of the track. Soon I entered the first large cave, not very deep, but with a huge mouth opening into the forest with more stalactites slightly obscuring the view of the tree canopy below us. This, however, was not the cave that people come to see. Just a few minutes later, through a covered walkway and up a few more stairs, I saw the gigantic entrance to the Great Cave, the centerpiece of the park. Situated about halfway up the huge 394 meter (1,300 foot) limestone hill, the cave is one of the largest in the world, though I don't know how that's measured. Judging by this one, it may be volume. The mouth of the cave is almost too big to comprehend until you are standing there at the foot of it, looking around at the distant walls. The opening spans 250 meters (800 feet) wide by 60 meters (200 feet) tall. The tiny workers' hut at the entrance was the size of a house, yet it looked like a toy when compared to the scale of the gaping hole where the cave opens up to the outside world.

The area also has historical and cultural significance. Back in 1958, archaeologists found evidence of human occupation from over 40,000 years ago with rock paintings, tools, and a few random pieces. More recently, the local Penan people knew of this cave and a few nearby ones in the huge limestone cave system and used it to harvest the nests of the swiftlets (local birds), climbing up precarious bamboo ladders to reach the nests that are then used for the Chinese delicacy, bird's nest soup. The nests aren't quite as popular as they once were, as they were in danger of killing off the birds by over-harvesting, but it sounds like the birds are making a comeback. In addition to the birds, the caves are homes to huge numbers of bats, and it is estimated that at dusk, when the mass migration of birds coming back for the night and bats leaving for their hunt, covering the sky in waves of black, there may have once been 500,000 bats and 4 million swiftlets at one time. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to hang around for the show right after sunset, so I'd just have to trust my guidebook on that one.

Inside the cave, the path lead me around a massive central pillar, dividing the cave into two parts that would come back together on the other side. I proceeded down a set of slippery stairs, thanks to a mix of water and bat guano dripping from the ceiling high above. Soon, it was almost completely pitch black, and I was relying on my small flashlight that I picked up in Indonesia to guide the way. A long way off in the distance, I could see one of the small openings at the other side of the cave with just a bit of light shining through. Then, in front of me, there was an incredible sight with rays of intermittent sunlight streaming through a few small openings in the ceiling, illuminating a solid beam all the way to the rocks below. The stream of light seemed almost surreal, like a beacon pointing down towards a magical spot in the cave below. I obviously took my time getting some pictures and just marveling at the scene that was gone when I returned, as the angle of the sun had changed, and there were now clouds blocking its path. Moving on, the massive rooms of the cave began to narrow, taking us through a short, wide gap where I could tell that the top of the cave was only 10 or 20 feet above me. This was the darkest part of the cave, and I turned off my light a few times to see that there really was no sign of light coming from either direction, though I decided not to try to hide and scare the next walkers, but the thought did cross my mind.

Leaving the Great Cave out a smaller back entrance, more trails crossed through the forest to the Painted Cave, another cave with two huge openings, though not nearly as deep or cavernous as the first one. The Painted Cave is known for the rock paintings on the walls from thousands of years ago, along with a few excavated graves, though the sights honestly weren't that impressive, since it was hard to really see any of the faded paintings. Both caves did offer a nice bit of relief from the heat of the jungle outside, as well as the downpours that came and went during the day, so I could see why they were a popular spot for the local people living in the area.

On the way out, I made it back to the ranger's hut, but I had to wait around to try to find a taxi or a ride back to the junction to catch my next bus. Things were pretty quiet, though I eventually found a group that I had spoken with very briefly at the exit to the Great Cave. I asked if they'd be able to take me back to the main road, and the nice family agreed, so I piled into their SUV and started down the road. It turns out that they had come from Miri also, a group consisting of the father, son, daughter and daughter's friends from their church. We did a quick tour of the local down, basically just driving through the main road and heading back. Then, when we got to the junction a few minutes later, things looked a little different to me, but William told me that this was the intersection of the main road heading back to Miri or down to Kuching, my next stop, so I figured that I was just confusing a few of the hundreds of random street corners that I'd become acquainted with during the trip, hoping that he was right. We sat around the area for a little while, and the hospitable family and friends even treated me to a bowl of noodles and a drink while I waited for the buses to start appearing. Soon, they headed back, and I began wondering when the next bus might make its way to the junction. I was still a little skeptical about the whole location, though, so I asked a few of the restaurant workers and finally found out the truth. This was indeed ONE of the junctions on the Miri-Kuching road, though the major route (where the buses run) was the road about 10 kilometers inland from here. So I was really lucky to find such a kind family to have given me the ride and the meal, but it turns out that we weren't exactly headed to the same spot after all.

I crossed back over the street with my big bags, trying to find a ride back in the other direction, since it would be way too far to walk. Soon another local family stopped and asked where I was going, and I explained that I needed to catch the bus to Kuching, so they knew exactly where to take me. I wasn't exactly sure if they were also just being nice or were serving more as a taxi, so there were a few awkward moments when I got out of the car, with the driver and I staring at each other for a little while and smiling before I got out of the car. Things looked much more familiar here, and I recognized the small food court and bus stop, so I felt better about my chances for the connection that evening. Just as I was browsing the food stalls for my dinner, I saw a familiar face - the kid in the car with me a minute ago, mustering up the courage to ask for a bit of money for the ride. I gave him the same price I had paid to get there in the morning, though I felt bad for him having to ask, as I probably should have just offered to pay in the first place. I then sat down for some roti canai, and I even found a place that had rojak, the Malaysian version of the Indonesian rujak that was the amazing combination of peanut sauce, chili and fresh fruit. This version was far inferior, and I was a little disappointed, as some of the things in there seemed more like tofu, so I decided that I didn't want to further tarnish my image of rujak/rojak, so I'd not try ordering it again in Malaysia.

Finally, a few buses pulled into the stop for a bathroom break, and I spoke with the drivers and found an available seat, getting ready for the 16 hour overnight ride ahead of me all the way down to Kuching. As usual, the bus had its good and bad points: the seats were comfortable yet hard to sleep in, the air conditioning was nice but way too cold and we'd make stops in the middle of nowhere for coffee or bathroom breaks in the middle of the night, killing any chance at a good sleep. Even so, I was in Kuching the next morning, ready to spend my last few days in Borneo in and around the capital and biggest city of Sarawak state.

(Walking through the jungle at the Niah National Park, I started making my way under some limestone overhangs and soon saw the massive caves that make the park so special.)

(This first massive opening wasn't quite a cave yet, but it the hundred foot ceilings and huge opening provided a nice shelter from the intermittent rain.)

(Looking out from the first pseudo-cave, you could probably imagine some pretty interesting figures if your brain's imaginative powers weren't beaten down and crushed by years of mathematics and logic.)

(Inside the Great Cave, a few strong beams of light made their way through small holes in the ceiling, creating magical effects.)

(The surreal rays poured down all the way to the cave floor which was actually a few hundred feet below.)

(It looked like a beam of light shining on the lucky pot of gold, but I didn't investigate, as it was probably just a massive pile of bat guano.)

(Deep in the Great Cave, the passage narrowed, and it was pitch black when I turned off my flashlight - and wasn't taking a picture with the strong flash.)

(The walk between the Great Cave and the Painted Cave was on an elevated wooden boardwalk, keeping us above the thick undergrowth below.)

(This is the back entrance to the Painted Cave. If you notice the little people at the bottom, you'll get an idea for the size of the cave, and this was the smaller one. The opening to the Great Cave is 600 meters by 250 meters, and it's one of the largest caves in the world.)

(Coming back through the Great Cave on the way out, the rays weren't shining down to the floor, but I caught a few stragglers trying to make their way through the holes in the ceiling.)

(More of the walk back. I again waited at the mouth of the Great Cave while a large storm came through and then stopped almost as quickly.)

(The roots of the strangler figs are so big that you could hide in the nooks created by them. And then maybe it strangles you. I don't know.)

(Once you got to the river, you had to flag down the little kid to come get you with the tiny boat to cross.)

(Here's the super nice family and friends that gave me a ride from the park to the main road and treated me to some more mee goreng...though it turned out to be the wrong road...but we didn't know that, so it was still really nice of them.)

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Noodles, Noodles, Noodles aka Mee Goreng

Noodle Eating Contest!!!!

While looking for my bus connections during the day, I had stumbled upon the night market and Ramadan Bazaar that would take place for two weeks, starting that evening. It was advertised for good shopping, local food and a few events, though one booth in particular caught my eye. The rows of chairs stood empty, but I saw the sign advertising the Mee Goreng Eating Competition. Mee goreng (mie goreng in Indonesian) is the basic, fried instant noodle dish that is very popular among the locals for being both easy and cheap, so the noodle dish had also become a favorite of mine, changing flavor slightly based on the seasoning used in that particular area. As you can imagine, I was really excited to see this sign, and I went straight inside to ask if there was still time/space to sign up for the competition beginning that night. The workers were excited to see a foreigner signing up for the contest, and there was still plenty of space left, so I filled out the form and got ready for my chance to eat a few massive plates of noodles (and get a free dinner in the process). I had never done an eating contest, though there has recently been some talk of a challenge involving Chipotle burritos back in the US, so I didn't really know how I'd do, but I couldn't stop thinking about it during the day.

The competition began at 8:30 that night, so I showed up at 8, actually feeling a bit nervous about the event. I have also become fairly proficient with chopsticks, though I was already to blame them for any shortcomings of mine during the event. Sitting under a large tarp surrounded by about one hundred plastic chairs was the stage, backed by the huge banner and basically just consisting of the speakers for the MC and a long, long table with fifteen chairs spread down the row. As the event began, the announcer introduced the event, and the crowd began to gather. I was actually the first one to be called up to the stage, and I attracted a bit of attention when she announced that I was from the US. The other fourteen contestants made their way up to the stage one by one, a mixed group of men all from Brunei ranging from a few teenagers to a few overweight, middle-aged men that would probably provide some good competition. As we sat at the table, the rules were explained - each contestant would have a heaping plate consisting of three packs of instant noodles, along with a bottle of water to help the noodles go down and a cup of tea that would have to be consumed only when the noodles were finished, since the tea company was one of the sponsors of the entire bazaar. The overflowing, steaming plates of noodles were brought out one by one, and I was happy to see that we would actually be using forks (perhaps as a result of me asking the coordinators whether we'd be using chopsticks or forks, since they first told me chopsticks), though the tiny plastic forks were way smaller than normal.

Just as they were about to start the competition, the speakers blared with music, people gathered around the table, pushing their way up to the front of the chairs to stand around and get a front row view of the feast that was about to take place, and I was both nervous and excited, not knowing how my noodle eating would fare against the locals. Then the announcer began the countdown and the plastic forks began to fly. We all started off with huge piles of noodles, trying to cram as much as possible into our mouths and not choke on them in the process. The cheering began, people yelling and screaming, cameras flashing, and it all became a bit unreal. Being at the very end of the table, I had a hard time judging my progress, but I felt like I was going pretty quickly. The two teenagers next to me were slowing down, and I hoped that was the case with the rest of the table. Then, as I was getting fairly close to finishing the huge plate, I heard a huge roar come up from the middle, and the announcement came that we had a winner. We were encouraged to keep eating, so I quickly finished my noodles and my cup of tea, finishing a respectable second place, though the contest wasn't all that close. I actually noticed that my hand was shaking a little bit from all of the excitement when I set down my fork.

As it turns out, there would be two competitions a night for the next 7 nights, with the winners all facing off on the last day of the fair for the grand prize of 30 cartons of noodles. The way they used the word 'cartons' and not 'packs', I think this actually meant 30 boxes of the instant noodles, since 30 packs would not be that big of a prize. So I would be in Singapore at the time anyway, so I justified not winning the event, though I was jealous when I saw that the winner did get a t-shirt. The second competition that night was a little more peaceful for me, watching the event from the other side as a Japanese tourist competed against the locals, though he was one of many who couldn't finish his entire plate. The announcers came by to talk with me afterwards, thanking me for participating and anxious to hear what I thought about the event and wanting to send me a few pictures that they had taken. Walking back to the hostel just around the corner, full of noodles, I was really glad that I had stumbled upon the event, since there was really no other nightlife to speak of in the quiet city. The next morning, I caught the bus heading South, making my way down the coast, back through immigration and back into Malaysian Borneo, ready for a few more hikes and adventures before leaving Malaysia.

(I randomly stumbled upon this Ramadan Bazaar, and the huge banner caught my eye. Mee goreng/fried noodles are a staple of many people here, including me, and so I couldn't pass up the chance to try my luck eating noodles against the locals.)

(Since I was one the first one announced, I got to sit on the end, ready to gorge myself. We had to eat a huge plate of three servings of instant noodles and then drink a cup of tea. The fastest of the 15 competitors would be...the winner...that's kind of how competitions tend to work.)

(Just before the start, I was sizing up the competition. I had about an 18 year old next to me, then a random guy, then a worker from the KFC booth inside and then a bunch of pretty fast eaters that I couldn't see.)

(As you can see (or can't, in this case), the tiny plastic fork was a little feeble for the heaps of noodles.)

(With the crowd cheering us on, we continued eating and eating, with a few of the guys eventually giving up, but I thought I might have a chance at winning, so I powered through it.)

(I'm in deep concentration here, but the guy next to me appears to be in disbelief. I was actually nervous before the start, since this was my first eating competition, especially on a stage in front of a bunch of locals.)

(We ate and ate, but as I was getting near the end, the announcer came over the loudspeakers and proclaimed that we had a winner, and then I finished up after that, claiming second place.)

(There were two competitions a night for the seven nights of the festival (mine was the first one), and the winners of each event would face off in the finals in early September, so I think I subconsciously let someone else win, since I wouldn't be able to compete again anyway...or maybe he just ate faster. Either way.)

(Once the MC gave the countdown, the music started, the forks started flying, and the crowd of about a hundred people pushed closer to get a good view of the action. Though I didn't win, it was a great experience, and it was also a free dinner, so you can't beat that.)

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Bandar Seri Begawan and Kampung Ayer

My second day in Brunei started off slowly, as many things seem to do in the quiet country. I took a stroll around the uncrowded streets of the city, trying to get a feel for the place. It sort of seemed like a mini version of what Singapore attempts, with the obvious Muslim doctrines and centerpieces of town being a difference, but it had the same sort of pleasant, sanitized feel. Though I only had a chance to talk very briefly with a few locals, it seems that the people are fairly happy with their arrangement. Though the sultan and his family aren't afraid to spend the country's bankroll on their own luxury items, they also provide well for their people with things like free health care, schools, etc. It seems that there's plenty of money to go around while the oil continues to dominate the economy. Being around during Ramadan was also an interesting time to be in such a strict Muslim country, seeing the dress code and watching people go through their daily routines during this month of fasting and self-control.

Not far up the street, I stopped in the refreshing air conditioning of the Royal Regalia Museum, where the sultan has been kind enough to donate just a tiny bit of his endless list of gifts and possessions, displaying presents from other heads of state, pictures of the royal family, his car collection and even some pieces and re-creations of the massive chariot and lines of cardboard people made from a real picture of the people that filled the street back in 1984 for the independence parade. The museum was free, so it was interesting enough for about an hour, though things start to blend together after a while. I asked about the buses getting to the other main mosque of the country, a short ride outside of the city, and I got a few different answers, so I decided I'd just hop on a bus and try my luck. Many of the people in Brunei speak a bit of English thanks to their time under the British crown, yet it was still hard to communicate, and the bus driver and I finally figured out that I was on the wrong bus. So I hopped off and headed back down the road, backtracking to a major intersection and hoping I'd have better luck there. The bus drivers and locals there told me I was on the wrong route, so I was getting a bit frustrated, as the infrequent buses and English speakers meant that I spent a long time walking up and down the road randomly in the hot sun. I made it up one exit ramp thinking I was going in the right direction, but I figured buses wouldn't follow that route, so I eventually walked most of the way back into the city and finally caught the correct bus, taking me to the next mosque in about 25 minutes.

Jame' Asr Hassanil Bolkiah Mosque was built in 1992 as a gift for the 25th anniversary of the sultan's reign of power over the kingdom. Though not quite as ostentatious as the city's central mosque, this one is still an impressive sight full of golden bulb shaped domes and soaring minarets, surrounded by a small garden and a few tiny pools and fountains, each crafted with traditional Muslim inspired shapes and symbols. Being Ramadan, I could not enter the mosque to see the inside, so I was content to just walk around, admiring the fine details of the building, the ornate archways and windows and the intricate paint circling up the minarets around the sides of the mosque. This was a beautiful sight, but after about 45 minutes, I had pretty much seen it all, so I headed back to the bus stop where I found a few helpful locals and caught my next set of buses, again bringing me back towards the downtown area before turning around and catching another bus back out of the city.

The next destination was the sultan's palace, Istana Nurul Iman. I had seen just a glimpse of it the day before, and I wanted to see if I could get any closer. The bus stopped, and I walked off towards the entrance of the gated complex, featuring gardens and trees blocking any sort of view of the palace perched upon a tiny hill in the area. Just before getting there, I was stopped by a policeman, though I didn't really know what was going on, but I knew well enough that I had better obey the officer. So I stood still along the sidewalk as the policeman and his cohort brought out a few portable traffic signals and stopped traffic both ways on the main road out of the city. A minute later, the gates opened, and I wondered if I'd have the chance to see the sultan and an accompanying motorcade, though it just turned out to be a friend or a worker, as it was an unimpressive minivan with no escort that came flying out of the gates, not having to stop thanks to the police. A minute later, the gate closed and traffic resumed, and I was told that I couldn't get past the gates, so I had to be content with the tiny glimpse of the top of the palace from the day before.

For the evening, I went back to the riverside near the main mosque and flagged down one of the many boat drivers/taxis in the river. These guys take tourists on a typical tour of the riverside area, highlighted by a trip into the stilt village of Kampung Ayer which just means Water Village in the local language. The never ending rows of wooden houses are built on tall stilts on top of the river below, much of the area only accessible by water taxi, though once in the village, the houses are linked by a series of boardwalks. The huge community even includes a few schools, mosques and a fire department. This is said to be the largest stilt village in the world, at one time housing over 30,000 people. My driver explained that a fire five or ten years ago burned down a large portion of it, so the population is now around 21,000, and I assumed that this was probably before the fire department had a branch in Kampung Ayer. The driver also stopped off at one of the rickety wooden docks to give me a chance to walk around amongst the village, as well as giving himself the chance to stop off at his house and have a few quick snacks, as the sun had just set, ending his time of fasting for the day. I found a few friendly kids, rows of houses and a couple of restaurants and a loud pair of cats snarling and fighting as they ran up and down the wooden walkways. The view along the river also provided a different perspective on the glowing mosque, and I had hoped to see the sultan's palace from the water, though my driver explained that it would cost extra, and it was already almost dark, so I opted to not make that extra portion of the trip. He also explained that people going out around 4 in the afternoon can ride up to a forested area where the proboscis monkeys play just before the sun sets, but I was too late for that as well.

I began my final night in town with another look at the mosque, lit up brilliantly against the dark night sky, but I was more excited about my next stop for the evening...a local shopping market and Ramadan bazaar with a few events to entertain the locals and the tourists...

(The Jame' Asr Hassanil Bolkiah Mosque was built in commemoration of the sultan's 25th year as ruler of Brunei. Not a bad gift.)

(As with Brunei's other major mosque, the golden domes and intricate designs are spectacular.)

(In the front of the mosque, the series of golden domes have a way of catching your eye.)

(I met a nice high school student there who took this picture for me and was interested in hearing my impressions of his country. I told him I hated it, just to see his reaction. Then I punched him in the stomach and ran.)

(A few of the larger buildings in the city, though obviously not as tall as the minaret of the mosque, as that's against the ordinance.)

(Geometric figures are always pleasing to the eye. Multi-variable calculus, time series or mathematical statistics - not so much. Don't worry, they are not included in any of the pictures...ever.)

(I headed back to the mosque for another night viewing. It was really that impressive that it drew me back, plus there's really not much to do in Brunei.)

(In front of the mosque, I met a nice guy from India who explained many of customs and etiquette with this particular mosque and also told me about how hard it has been for him and his friends to try to get Visas to come to work in America. It's very interesting to hear the stories from another perspective.)

(Here are more of the wooden shacks on stilts next to the river and right across the street from the mosque. The ones that are attached to the mainland by bridges are the poorest ones, as the workers that live there can't afford to live on the water and pay for water taxis every day.)

(I watched this fisherman throw in his net a few times, but he didn't seem to be that successful.)

(From the bridge over the river, you can see how the mosque and the poor village don't really fit well together aesthetically.)

(I was there during the slightly dryer season, though in Borneo, it can really rain at any time, so I have no idea if the water level ever gets up to the top of the wooden stilts.)

(Right before dusk, I hired a water taxi to take me on a tour of Kampung Ayer, the water village. This is the village of stilt houses that sit out in the middle of the river or near the other bank, requiring boats to go anywhere.)

(Kampung Ayer is said to be the largest stilt village in the world, at one time housing over 30,000 people. They now have around 21,000 people living there, complete with schools, mosques, a few restaurants and even a fire department.)

(Wooden boardwalks connect different parts of the village. On the left, you can sort of see the flag of Brunei, one that you probably don't see too often. While I was walking around, my driver walked back to his house in the stilt village to have a little bit of food, since the sun had just gone down.)

(After my tour, I went back for a few final views of the mosque, since it was my last night there.)

(The reflecting pool works particularly well at night.)

(And the palm trees keep that nice tropical feel, reminding you that you're still in Borneo.)

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