Conquering Mt Kinabalu

It happened 31 years ago...but the memories of climbing Mt Kinabalu are still vivid in my mind.

Mt Kinabalu is 4,095 metres (13,435 ft) high at its summit, known as Low's Peak.  It is a World Heritage Site and is protected as Kinabalu National Park. 

The word "Kinabalu" is extracted from the short form for the Kadazan Dusun word "Aki Nabalu" meaning "the revered place of the dead".  It is believed that long ago, the dead were buried atop Mt Kinabalu.  To climb Mt Kinabalu, one does not require mountaineering experience, but one has to be physically fit.  Training in climbing is also highly recommended as climbing requires greater use of your quadriceps and hamstrings, among other muscles.

At Kinabalu National Park before the climb 

We arrived at Kinabalu National Park on August 29, 1981 and after a night's rest, we began the climb the next morning at around 8 a.m., accompanied by guides and porters who carried our supplies on their backs.  The porters (all youngsters) seemed like they have 3 lungs.  Some were not properly attired (like we were) to climb but they were able to sprint with the loads on their back.  We were told that they had to walk about 10 km from their respective villages just to get to work at the National Park.  

Flora along the climb

The initial part of the climb was relatively easy but as the journey wore on, it became harder - on your lungs and legs.  All of us had to carry a 5-litre supply of drinking water and some chocolates (for energy).  As we got to higher altitude, even these supplies (and the jackets we wore) felt like a burden and some wished they could throw them away!

I could remember the feeling of "oh my God...how much further?"  every time I stopped to catch my breath.  Each time I looked up, I saw a looming tower of mountain to climb.  As the journey progressed, another group behind ours who started out strumming their guitars fell quiet - and I am sure the temptation to get rid of the guitars must have been strong too!  The thin mountain air at higher altitude also caused some of us (yours truly included) to suffer from hypoxia due to lack of oxygen.  It caused drowsiness and if one stopped to rest for too long one could fall asleep.  The guides were on hand to make sure that did not happen because we had to reach the camp at Laban Rata before it got dark.

My late hubby climbing on hands and feet

Laban Rata is located at a height of about 3,000 metres.  Today, Laban Rata boasts of hotel-like facilities for climbers but back in the '80s, there were only shacks with no hot showers or food.  I remember shivering in the cold that night trying to get some sleep and sometime during the night, I was rudely awaken by a rat nibbling at my feet.  The place was infested with rats because of food left over by climbers.  We ate whatever supply we brought along - biscuits and maggi mee.  It rained that night and I thought with dread of the next morning when we have to make the final assault to the peak!

Mt Kinabalu covered in mist - as seen from the National Park

The final (and hardest) part of the climb began at 2 a.m. the next day, which fell on August 31, 1981.  We were dressed for cold weather (jackets and gloves) and each of us carried a torchlight to find our way in the dark.  The final part of the climb was on rock surfaces and having rained the night before, we had to be extra careful on the slippery rocks. 

The first part of the climb involved climbing along a ridge which had to be done in single file.  There were ropes to hold on to and as the group snaked its way on the ridge, I felt a sense of trepidation...what if someone falls off this ledge in the dark?  During the climb, one climber got cold feet and suddenly stopped in the middle of the ridge, prompting those behind her to scream...urging her to move on!

As we got higher, the rocks became steeper and the air became thinner.  I remember a couple of members in the party could not make it to the last few hundred feet because they felt too sick.  The thin mountain air caused them to be dizzy and nauseated.

As dawn arrived, I crawled on all fours to get to the peak and having reached the mountain top, I felt a sense of relief never felt before.  The quietness and majestic beauty of the mountain made me feel so small and insignificant amid Allah's creation.  Mt Kinabalu stood proudly in the dawn...a towering yet foreboding beauty!

We signed the log book to record our presence and made the journey down immediately after.  The descent had to begin the latest by 7 a.m. as it would be dangerous after that due to mist covering the mountain top.  

The descent was much harder than the ascent - as I seemed to have lost control of my thigh/leg muscles.  The path was also muddy and slippery due to rain the night before and it was hard on the knees.  Negotiating the ledge that we had climbed the night before, I was horrified to see how narrow it was.  The rocks stood 90 degrees leading to a dark chasm below!  I thought to myself that it was lucky we climbed in the dark.  Had we climbed in daylight, some people would probably have been frozen by fear!   As my legs were hurting, on the rock surfaces, I slid down on my butt rather than used my legs and by the time I reached base camp, my jeans and undies were in tatters!  My late hubby (who was then recovering from an injured ankle due to skydiving) and I were the last couple to reach the peak and to return to the National Park.

We left Kota Kinabalu on September 2 and three days later (September 5, 1981) we had our "bersanding" (marriage) ceremony. Every single bone and muscle in our bodies ached from the climb and I felt like a robot walking to the hall where the ceremony was held! 


Would I climb a mountain again?  NO...it is something I would do only once especially now that I am suffering from "knee-monia"....LOL!

The group that climbed Mt Kinabalu on August 31, 1981

Reminiscing Mumbai

The Taj Hotel - in all its glory....then

Smoke billowing from the Taj Hotel during the siege

Watching the massacre of Mumbai unfolding on TV in real time recently, I was overcome by nostalgia about the city that I had visited several times in the late '90s on business trips.

The Gateway of India was built to commemorate the arrival in India, on 2 December 1911, of King George V and Queen Mary and was completed on 4 December, 1924

The Taj Hotel with the Gateway of India in the foreground - this was allegedly the entry point for millitant gunmen who arrived via the Arabian Sea

Mumbai is a city of contradictions - modern yet ancient, fabulously opulent yet achingly poor. I had stayed at both the Taj and Oberoi Hotels where gunmen held hostages and engaged in a shootout with military forces - which left about 170 people dead and more than 300 injured. The contrast between the opulence of the hotels and the poverty on the streets is like night and day. As one steps out of the grandeur of these hotels, one is hit by the poverty that many of its citizens live in - families sleeping on sidewalks and begging children tugging at your hand, refusing to go away until you give them something. But to give anything is equally dangerous - for one could be inviting a riot when scores of others would suddenly appear.

Seeing on TV the various familiar sites that were attacked - Victoria Terminus, Nariman House and Leopold Cafe - I felt a tinge of sadness about the human capacity to inflict such destruction and suffering upon fellow human beings, whose only crime was being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

The resilient human spirit would of course prevail - just like after 9/11 - and life has already returned to normal for Mumbaikers.

The Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus, formerly known as Victoria Terminus or VT for short, headquarters of the Central Railway, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site

Fashion Street, a huddle of little shops on Mahatma Gandhi Road - Mumbai is an exporter of ready-made garments and surpluses end up here. This place is a favorite haunt for fashion-conscious college students

Dhobi Ghat at Saat Rasta near Mahalaxmi Station. "Ghats" are "laundries" - row upon row of concrete wash pens, each fitted with its own flogging stone. The clothes are soaked in sudsy water, thrashed on the flogging stones, then tossed into huge vats of boiling starch and hung out to dry.

Marine Drive, a windswept promenade flanked by the sea and a row of art deco buildings. Marine Drive is looped between the concrete jungle of Nariman Point, Mumbai's Manhattan, and the leafy green slopes of Malabar Hill.

Exploring the Tranquility of Karak

Tired of the hustle and bustle of city life...traffic jams, lack of parking space and flashfloods after a heavy downpour? Why not take a break and go back to nature, enjoy the fresh mountain air and scenic views....just within a stone's throw of Kuala Lumpur.

Directions to Orchard Heights

I am talking about a sleepy town called Karak which is less than an hour's drive from Gombak Toll. Today, five of us golfing kakis (addicts) and two of their partners decided to take a break from city life and headed for Orchard Heights, Karak. The purpose was twofold - to feast on local fruits in a dusun (orchard) and to view plots of land available for sale. The project is owned by a group of entrepreneurs who are committed to country style living in a safe, healthy and environmentally-friendly surroundings. On hand to greet us was one of the partners, Major (R) Ng Chun Hoo, who is RMC-schooled and a close friend of Encik Bakar Sulaiman, Audie's partner.


At the temporary clubhouse, we were given a briefing on the project by Major Ng. The total area of Orchard Heights is 187 acres. The area has been divided into plots ranging in size from 44,000 to 65,000 sq. ft. that are suitable for a weekend retreat or even permanent homes. Orchard Heights is ideal for those who want to live in idyllic surroundings in the hills and yet, is near enough to get to Kuala Lumpur. Land owners get to enjoy common facilities such as a matured orchard, boating lake and a haven for anglers. Infrastructure is well in place and security is provided by perimeter fencing.

Temporary Clubhouse

Project Briefing By Major Ng

Prior to arrival, Major Ng had made arrangements for a fruitfest for us to enjoy. There was a heap of durians of various varieties with exotic names such as musang king (fox king), kucing tidur (sleeping cat), udang merah (red prawn), the well-known "D24" strain and even the rather rude bulu bawah (hair in the lower extremities). Major Ng could not explain to us the origin of this rude name and how it is connected to the King of Fruits! Perhaps any durian lover reading this blog can help out here.

Durians galore..."yum ley sek" (all you can eat)

Woman Power!

Kucing Tidur (Sleeping Cat)

King of Fruits in all its glory!

This is the life....Irene after the "durianfest"

There were also heaps of rambutan (rambut = hair) and pulasan (pulas = twist). Pulasan is almost similar to rambutan except that the skin is not hairy and the flesh is thicker . Major Ng assured us that they do not use pesticides to grow the fruit trees; hence the fruits are safe to eat.

Rambutan (rambut = hair)

Pulasan (pulas = twist)

Pisang Raja (King of Bananas!)

After eating to our hearts' content, we all jumped onto Major Ng's four-wheel-drive vehicle for the tour.

"Minah Kebun" (female orchard laborers) chilling out after a hard day's work! (from left: Audie, Irene, Torah and Adrenaline Junkie)

We were first taken to the viewing tower for a panoramic view of the area, with mist-covered mountain tops in the distance. Oh! the tranquility of country living....with fresh air and picturesque views! This would be a perfect place to recharge, meditate, write or even read the books that you have never found the time to read.

Tranquility.....

The fruit trees and surroundings reminded me of my childhood days in a small town called Selama, about 30 miles north of Taiping in the state of Perak. We had a house on a 2-acre rubber plantation and my cousins and I spent many happy days running around the plantation collecting biji getah (rubber seeds) which are used for a traditional game called congkak...more of that in another posting.

Durians on a tree

Sour Sop

....and pretty flowers

A tree laden with birds' nests

Major Ng then showed us his home and then we proceeded to visit the home of Madam Jeswant Kaur, who, by the way, lives alone and commutes to Kuala Lumpur every fortnight or so. She is looking forward to having like-minded neighbors to enjoy healthy and stress-free living in Orchard Heights.

Major Ng's home.....perched on a hillock

Jeswant's home is designed in the style of Australian homes but as it rained when we arrived, I could not snap a photo of the house from the outside. Her bedroom has a panoramic view of the mountains beyond and there is a fish pond facing the patio. The only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of grass-cutting machines as the Nepalese workers were doing maintenance work. Otherwise, it was peace and quiet. We promised Jeswant that we would return one day and have a pot-luck style picnic and perhaps spend a few days to experience actually living there.

The view from Jeswant's bedroom

Fish Pond facing the patio

The gracious hostess with her guests (Sitting: Datin Rahmah, Jeswant. Standing [L to R]: Major Ng, Torah, Audie, Bakar, Irene, Dato' Syed Salleh)

Since we could not eat all the fruits that were gathered for us, we took home the rest with happy memories of a "fruitful" afternoon in Karak. Before leaving, Major Ng extended a kind invitation for us to return anytime, even if we decide not to purchase a plot, for, in his words, "at this age, even if you cannot make money, you can still make friends".

True indeed, Major! Thank you for your gracious hospitality and we will certainly return.

(Author's note: some photographs have been reproduced with Major Ng's permission)