Kota Kinabalu

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It were the tourism brochures that lured me into Sabah, Northern Borneo. That was very ignorant of me, because the marketing of a place is only necessary if there’s no objective reason to go there. There probably was a reason once, a long time ago, until the mass tourism that followed upon that systematically destroyed it piece by piece. A destruction that goes on until today, for the sake of those same tourism brochures that struggle harder and harder as time goes by to Photoshop this dump into the paradise it once was.

Also this travelblogger was offered a package of free activities in exchange for a positive story. After a number of observations I had to turn it down. I can’t do it, I can’t support the lie. My conscience forbids me to send you here and waste your money just so I can have some freebies you’ll have to pay the price for.

The province’s capital Kota Kinabalu in itself is unmarketable, even the local government seems to admit that by the plain absence of any ads.

I really tried my best here. I composed a little list of the ‘highlights’ in town and planned a citytrip accordingly. I figured I should start off at the Sabah Museum, to get a bit of a feel and intellectual background knowledge of my current locale. The first thing I learned is that foreigners pay 7,5 times as much to enter compared to locals, which is the strongest representation of local culture I would find in this entire museum. That said, even though the building begs for an acute renovation, a short stroll will lead you passed some interesting displays.

My love for the macabre instantly drew me towards the Headhunters exposition, illustrating this significant part of Bornean history.

No, it’s not cannibalism I’m referring to, the reasons seemed to be a tad more childish. According to this museum it basically came down to this: One tribe member accidentally (or on purpose) kills a member belonging to another one... in case this death isn’t properly compensated materialistically the other tribe beheads one of their people, upon which a head is taken again by Tribe-A as vengeance, and back, and forth, and back, and forth... Right. Just grow a pair and sit around the table like adults I’d say, am I correct? Exactly what the British proposed and that was that. Especially reading about the rituals to ‘soothe the spirit’s soul and wash away its anger’ stroke me with astonishment... I’d say don’t chop the guy’s head off to begin with and he’ll be a happy chap all along.

Talking about local culture: The Sunday Gaya Market was an often heard suggestion. The mere word ‘market’ usually raises my heart rate. Markets, the cultural scene of urbanity and local practice, highlighting the pure spirit of regional ambience and mindset... Adjust your expectations here and erase all that. Kota Kinabalu’s local essence can be summed up as ‘making money out of tourists a.s.a.p.’ which is indeed what you find reflected at their market scene: endless supplies of useless overpriced souvenirs, every next stall selling exactly the same as the previous.

In search for another side of locale morale I travelled up to the State Mosque, Masjid Negeri Sabah. Here I was greeted with warmth and hospitality, even though I certainly wasn’t dressed like a pious Muslim. After taking off my shoes and waiting patiently for someone to hand me over a covering dress to enter (in this case making me look like Barbapapa), I joined a young man on a (free) tour through his holy ground. The short highlight of my visit to Kota Kinabalu.

Something I can’t say about Tanjung Aru Beach, where I headed to next.

Sabah’s beaches, the focal point of its tourism marketing mentioned. The biggest lie of all.

Sure enough, a first glimpse seems promising:

But then you take a closer look:

This is also Asia.

This should have been a warning. But I never learn. I thought I owed you a story about the islands in Tunku Abdul Rahman Marine Park, the touristic Korean-magnet and main money-maker. The favourite photo topic on all these glossy posters and leaflets, heavily filtered snapshots widely shared by glamorous Insta-celebrities.

Loud, pushy men with fanny packs clinking with coins dragged me into the ticketing area at Jesselton Point. Everyone started shouting at me, I needed to spend my money at their counter and at that one only. Looking at this chaos I instantly foresaw how the situation would be when visiting multiple islands, being forced to find my way through the anarchy of speedboats and men with walkie-talkies making them feel important while in fact they have no clue what they’re doing.

So I settled with one island: Manukan. Supposedly the least touristy and polluted of all.

If that’s the case I cry for Sabah. Again, the first impression isn’t bad, on the photo’s I’m still laughing even.

But after you paid the boat company, the harbour tax and the island tax you have a closer look. Plastic bottles, bags, cigarettes buds everywhere... Big concrete hotels behind the palm trees, more under construction to bring exploitation to the next level... Disillusioned I sat down in between other people’s trash, while a group of men selling coconuts zoomed around me providing my ass and breasts from the necessary commentary, making me possibly feel even more uncomfortable than I already was. While my sweat washed away the sandflies munching on my legs I stared at the sea. Blue and clear, no doubt, but with packing material floating at the surface. After a lengthy self-peptalk I nevertheless took my snorkel mask out, trying to be ‘normal’ for once, trying to fit into the crowds. I hung the waterproof money bag around my neck which I just bought for 15 ringgit and later on found in a local shop for 1,5 and plunged in.

Potential crying transformed into actual crying.

Rubbish wrapped itself around dead reef, the few fish not scared away by the continuously incoming tourist-loaded speedboats taking little bites from the indigestible plastic.

Deeper and deeper I swam, ignoring the swimming lines and whistle blows of the ‘lifeguard’, I had to see a piece of coral that was still alive. In search of some consolation. I didn’t find it.

I just wanted to leave. I couldn’t, because all these men with walkie-talkies couldn’t force any efficiency into their system. So I said I broke my ribs in order to be evacuated. But the truth is even worse, I broke my heart.

I looked at my handwritten bucket list and scraped all beaches off. Nature, I adored the nature in southern Borneo and hiked the hell out of the national parks surrounding Kuching. I oversaw one crucial distinction though: Kuching’s absence of beaches saved it from the mass-tourism-hurricane and even though tourist-friendly, it preserved its originality in the process. Hikes in the province of Sarawak are mainly unguided (why create unnecessary jobs if proper signage along the trails can provide visitors with a more personal and budget-friendly experience?) and entrance varies between $2-4. I completed the intense Mount Santubong climb in serene solitude without spending a single dime.

Welcome to Sabah: In order to climb the famous (because heavily promoted) Mount Kinabalu you have to tick off anything between $300-600. What do you get for that? An obligated guide to lead you over the beaten path where you probably can follow the crowds anyway in the unlikely case you get lost + a night in a bunk bed in a room you have to share with ten other people. You have to bring your own food.

You’d be surprised how many people fall for it. I couldn’t properly feature this in a blog called the ‘Budget Bucket List’ however, for that money you can travel a month, especially in South East Asia.

I was so done with this place I didn’t want to do anything anymore. I wasn’t interested in the unguided hikes in Kinabalu National Park or its Botanic Garden, after my snorkel-confrontation I was scared what to find when actually going for a scubadive in this part of the world and the idea of going on a river cruise frightened me even more. Sitting in the corner of the only vegetarian restaurant I found I replayed a comment of a tourist I met along the way in my head: “I loved the river cruises in central Sabah, they’re spectacular... the palm oil production downsizes the rain forest day by day, so the animals can’t hide anymore and you’ll see thousands of them for your entertainment.” She was serious. This is serious. Exit.

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