I AM THE BORNEO EXPLORER 婆罗洲探险

The Eye of the Jungle: Trekking Deep into Sarawak’s Hidden Wilderness

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sat, 1 Aug 2026 08:43:00 +0800

The rainforest doesn’t open its secrets easily. It tests you first, with damp heat, tangled roots, steep gulley descents, and trails that feel as though they haven't seen human footprints in decades. But for those willing to push past the sweat and the sheer climbs, the jungle always delivers something extraordinary.

Our latest exploration took us deep into the heart of the Sarawak wilderness. Joined by three of my friends, we set off into the emerald canopy armed with heavy packs, worn-in boots, and a shared hunger for discovery.

The Forest Floor & The Falling Giants

Early into the trek, the trail narrowed into a steep, rocky ravine surrounded by towering Dipterocarp trees. Negotiating damp rock faces and loose scree required every bit of focus as we navigated down the gulley.

The forest floor was alive, carpeted in rich green moss and strewn with fallen winged seeds (Dipterocarpus). Holding these natural propellers in the palm of my hand, it’s hard not to feel a quiet reverence for the life cycle of these prehistoric giants. Every seed waiting for its moment to take root.

Discovering the Stone Portal

Then we saw it.

Emerging from the dense understory was a massive, ancient moss-covered boulder standing ground like a silent sentinel. It bore a feature so striking it stopped us dead in our tracks, a perfectly formed natural oval aperture carved straight through its center.

Formed by centuries of natural erosion and weathering, this "eye in the stone" felt like a gateway to another world. Sunbeams pierced through the dense leaves above, striking the hollowed center and illuminating the mist into a brilliant, ethereal light ray.

Naturally, I couldn’t resist climbing around the back of the formation to frame myself right through the aperture for a selfie. Looking out through that stone window, surrounded by lush green foliage and bathed in sunbeams, was one of those rare, surreal moments where time seems to freeze.

The Explorer's Reward

After spending time taking in the sheer presence of the rock formation and capturing the light playing through the stone window, we packed up our gear and began the hike back down the sun-dappled trail. Muddy, exhausted, but entirely recharged by the wildness of Sarawak.

Moments like these are why we head out into the unknown. The rainforest is full of hidden monument you just have to be willing to trek far enough to find them.

Until the next adventure,

Wilson Chin

I AM THE BORNEO EXPLORER

The Forgotten Sanctuary: A Monday Morning Trek Up Bung Mako

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Mon, 4 May 2026 12:28:00 +0800

The world below was just starting to shake off its Monday morning lethargy, but deep within the folds of Serian, the jungle was already wide awake. I looked at my wife, a silhouette against the creeping morning light, and decided today wouldn’t be spent under the sterile glare of office lights. Instead, we were chasing a ghost on a hill, an abandoned church sitting quietly on the peak of Bung Mako.

Into the Overgrowth

The moment our boots hit the trail, the cinematic illusion of a serene nature walk vanished. The jungle here doesn't welcome visitors; it tolerates them.

Years without maintenance had turned the path into a wild obstacle course. Vines hung like tangled wires from the canopy, and bamboo groves leaned heavily over the track, forcing us to duck and weave. The ground was heavily carpeted in dead bamboo leaves, masking the uneven terrain beneath. Every few minutes, we had to swat away the relentless mosquitoes that swarmed us the moment we slowed down.

Along the way, the jungle offered small, sharp macro details, shelf fungi blooming like coral reefs on rotting logs, and massive bamboo shoots erupting from the earth like primitive spears. It felt less like a public hiking trail and more like an untamed wilderness reclaiming its territory.

The Chapel in the Woods

After a steady, humid grind, the dense foliage finally yielded to a clearing. There it stood: the abandoned church.

The silence here was heavy, almost sacred. A large blue water tank sat outside, catching rainwater under a fallen tree trunk. Inside, row after row of rough-hewn wooden logs served as pews, resting on the orange, packed earth. A statue of the Virgin Mary and a framed image of Christ kept watch over an empty altar. It was a hauntingly beautiful, rustic sanctuary swallowed by the green tide of the mountain.

Rewards of the Summit

We didn't stay in the shadows of the chapel for long. Pushing slightly past the clearing, the jungle parted completely, opening up to a spectacular, panoramic vista.

My wife stood at the edge of the viewpoint, leaning on her makeshift hiking stick, looking out over the valley. From this vantage point, all the mosquito bites, the suffocating humidity, and the overgrown brush faded into the background. The town looked peaceful, tiny, and far away.

It was exactly what we needed. A raw, sweaty, unpolished Monday morning hike that traded the routine of daily life for a breath of fresh air and a breathtaking view.

Rising Above the Mist: Scaling the Vertical Wall of Bung Tramouk, Stass Nature Heritage Park

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Wed, 29 Apr 2026 09:44:00 +0800

The world is entirely different at 7:50 AM.

The air at the base of Stass Nature Heritage Park carried that sharp, cool dampness unique to the Sarawak rainforest before the sun fully wakes up. Standing at the trailhead, Anne and I looked ahead into a corridor of deep, unbroken green. A lone, crimson-leafed Cordyline plant stood like a vibrant sentinel at the edge of the path, marking the boundary between the ordinary world and the wild acres ahead.

"Ready?" I asked, looking over at her. She flashed a quick smile, a blue bandana tied tightly back, a blue towel draped over her shoulders. We adjusted our packs and stepped forward.

Into the Emerald Canopy

The initial trail was a narrow concrete path, heavily weathered and carpeted in moss and fallen leaves. It felt like walking through a living cathedral. On either side, massive tree trunks shot straight up like pillars, their canopy weaving together far above to filter the morning light into a soft, golden-green glow. The only sounds were the crunch of our boots and the distant, rhythmic hum of the jungle waking up.

But the gentle slopes didn't last. Within minutes, the paved path vanished, swallowed up by the raw earth. The terrain turned steep, demanding respect. The trail became a labyrinth of gnarled tree roots and loose soil, forcing us to watch every single step. Looking up, a massive, smooth-barked tree commanded the hillside, its roots anchoring the mountain itself. Looking back down the steep pitch, Anne stood by a weathered wooden bench, taking a brief breath. The jungle here felt dense, intimate, and beautifully overwhelming.

The Anatomy of the Climb: By the Numbers

Every panoramic view has a price, and Bung Tramouk extracts its toll in pure vertical effort. Looking back at our tracking stats, it’s clear why our lungs were burning despite the relatively short distance.

Distance: 257 meters
Vertical Ascent: 77 meters
Total Time: 16 minutes 44 seconds
Moving Speed: 2.2 km/h

The data tells the real story of this terrain. We only covered 257 meters of horizontal distance, but in that tiny footprint, we pushed through a staggering 77 meters of pure vertical ascent. To put that in perspective, our overall pace clocked in at an astonishing 65:07 min/km, a number that looks incredibly slow on paper but speaks volumes about the steepness underfoot. This wasn’t a casual stroll; it was an intense, calf-burning scramble where every single meter forward required a conscious effort to conquer the gravity working against us.

Out of our 16 minutes on the trail, our actual moving time was just over 7 minutes. The rest? Over 9 minutes spent stopped, not out of exhaustion, but out of necessity. We paused to find steady footholds among the tangled web of roots, to look back and ensure each other's footing was secure, and to simply stand still and respect the sheer verticality of the path we were scaling. With a mere 4 meters of descent the entire way up, the trail offered absolutely no flat breaks or reprieves. It was an uncompromising, relentless line straight to the top.

Breaking Through to the Sky

We pushed through the final, steepest incline, our heart rates peaking as the dense forest suddenly began to thin. The heavy humidity of the canopy dissolved, replaced by a cool, sweeping breeze. Then, the horizon opened up.

We reached the summit ridge of Bung Tramouk. A rustic wooden picnic bench sat right at the edge of the world. Anne took a seat, looking out over the expanse, the early morning sun catching the side of her face. We stood high above an endless ocean of green, a vast, undulating sea of jungle canopy stretching out for miles, punctuated by the jagged silhouettes of distant mountains fading into a soft, hazy blue. A low blanket of white mist hovered perfectly in the valley, a quiet river of cloud suspended in time.

We had made it. And the reward was entirely ours.

Above the Sea of Clouds: A Cinematic 4AM Journey to Tajur Rambung

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 19 Apr 2026 10:00:00 +0800

4:00 AM. The world is silent, save for the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath my boots and the distant, low rush of the river. In the beam of my headlamp, the suspension bridge looks like a skeletal path into the unknown. I am alone with my thoughts, stepping onto the wooden planks that sway gently, a reminder that the earth is alive even while it sleeps.

4:00 AM. The suspension bridge feels like a gateway into another world.

The climb is an act of faith. When you hike in the pitch black, your world shrinks to the three feet of trail directly in front of you. You don't see the steepness of the ridges or the drop-offs; you only feel the burn in your lungs and the steady beat of your heart. It’s a meditative grind, a conversation between my will and the mountain.

By 6:00 AM, the darkness begins to bleed into a deep, bruised purple.

I reach the summit of Tajur Rambung Paradise Peak, and for a moment, I forget to breathe.

Patience rewarded. Watching the light break over the valley.

The high-angle drone shot looking down at the ridge

From above, you realize just how tiny we are compared to the vast Sarawak interior.

The Kingdom of Clouds

As the sun begins to crack the horizon, the landscape reveals itself not as solid ground, but as an archipelago of green islands floating in a vast, white sea. This is the "Sea of Clouds" I came for. From the air, my perspective shifts entirely. I see the tiny shelters we built atop this narrow spine of earth, frail human outposts against the raw, ancient majesty of Sarawak’s interior.

In the distance, the waters of the Bengoh Dam reservoir peek through the mist like polished silver. Looking down from the drone’s eye, the ridge looks like the back of a sleeping dragon, carpeted in emerald forest, guarding the secrets of the valley below.

The Descent into Light

The journey back is a different story. The trail that was invisible two hours ago is now a vibrant corridor of life. I pass through narrow paths flanked by wild pineapples and towering ferns, the morning dew soaking into my gear.

Looking down the steep stairs

The path back down reveals the steepness I couldn't see in the dark. The narrow path through the pineapples.

I stop again at the suspension bridge, the same one I crossed in the dark. In the full light of day, I can see the power of the river below and the scars on the banks where the earth has surrendered to the water.

Daytime selfie on the bridge

The wide shot of the bridge and the eroded bank

It’s a humbling sight. I take a moment at the Pangkin (rest area) by the stream, listening to the water navigate the rocks.

Why do I do this? It’s not just for the photos or the "The Borneo Explorer" brand. It’s for that specific moment at 6:30 AM when the sun hits your face, the mist swirls around your ankles, and the world feels brand new.

Hiking up in the dark reminds me that even when you can’t see the path ahead, as long as you keep moving, the light will eventually find you.

A final moment of peace at the base before heading home

Chasing Waterfalls in Sarawak: The Raw Beauty of Wong Engkarah

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 18 Jan 2026 10:44:00 +0800

The world has a way of drawing you in, doesn’t it? Especially when it’s a world painted in a thousand shades of green, humming with the unseen, and whispering promises of discovery. For me, that pull led to Engkilili, a name that now resonates with the very beat of my own journey.

I remember the initial stretches of our trek. The endless rows of oil palm trees, their fronds swaying with a manufactured rhythm. It’s a familiar sight across this landscape, a testament to human enterprise. But even here, an ancient longing stirred within me. I knew there was more, something wilder, beyond this cultivated facade. We were heading deeper, leaving the structured world behind, one determined step at a time.

The transition was gradual, then sudden. The orderly plantations gave way to a patchwork of rice paddies, shimmering in the tropical light. We navigated makeshift log bridges, each creaking plank a reminder of how truly off-the-beaten-path we were. This wasn’t a paved tourist trail; this was real. The air grew thicker, cooler, carrying the scent of damp earth and exotic blossoms.

My senses sharpened. Every rustle in the undergrowth, every splash in the shallow streams, hinted at a life teeming around us. I found myself pausing, drawn to the intricate details the jungle offered. A cluster of vibrant red berries, like jewels scattered on a branch. That peculiar seed, half-black, half-sunny yellow, almost like a miniature fried egg crafted by nature. And then, the starburst bloom, a delicate explosion of white, utterly alien and beautiful. These weren’t just plants; they were characters in this unfolding story, each with its own quiet mystery.

Our path soon merged with the very veins of the forest, its rivers and streams. This wasn't just walking alongside water; it was in it. The cool current against my legs was a welcome relief from the humidity, a living, breathing element guiding us forward. There were moments of camaraderie, shared laughter as we helped each other across deeper sections, the river’s song a constant companion.

The further we delved, the more the jungle closed in, transforming into a magnificent green labyrinth. This was raw, untamed Borneo. The air grew heavy with the scent of damp earth and unseen blossoms. We were no longer just walking; we were pushing through, climbing over gnarled roots, scrambling up muddy inclines that tested every muscle. There’s a certain satisfaction in that kind of effort, a primal connection to the earth beneath your feet. I found myself breathing deeper, my mind clearing with each challenging step. This was where the real adventure lay, where comfort zones dissolved and genuine discovery began.

And then, we heard it. Not a roar, but a distant, persistent whisper that grew steadily louder, the unmistakable voice of falling water. My anticipation soared. This was it. This was what we came for. We pushed through one last curtain of foliage, and there it was: Wong Engkarah.

It wasn’t just a waterfall; it was a sanctuary. Water cascaded down ancient rock faces, carving intricate patterns into the stone over millennia. The air was cool and filled with a fine mist, dancing with the sunlight that pierced through the dense canopy above. Rays of light, like ethereal spotlights, illuminated the spray, creating rainbows that shimmered and vanished with every breath of wind. It felt almost spiritual, a sacred space hidden deep within Engkilili.

Sitting there on the moss-covered rocks, the spray from Wong Engkarah cooling my skin, I felt a profound sense of clarity. The exhaustion in my legs was real, but so was the peace. We spend so much of our lives looking at screens, following paved roads, and living by a schedule. But out here, in the deep folds of Engkilili, time doesn't exist. There is only the rhythm of the water and the pulse of the forest.

I looked at my gear, the mud-caked boots, the damp backpack, the camera that captured only a fraction of this magic, and I realized that the "reward" wasn't just the waterfall itself. It was the transition. It was the grit of the river trekking, the uncertainty of the log bridges, and the small, quiet wonders like those "fried egg" seeds we found along the way.

Sarawak never ceases to amaze me. Just when you think you’ve seen it all, it whispers a name like Engkilili and dares you to find its heart. And every time, I’ll say yes.

Until the next trail, Wilson

Exploring Sungai Baban: A Blackwater Exploration of the Bengoh Range

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 14 Dec 2025 12:41:00 +0800

December 14, 2025. I need to get this down while the feeling of the river is still fresh in my bones. Today wasn’t just a hike; it was a raw exploration into the veins of the Bengoh Range.

The Monolith and the Mirror

I stood at the base of the Bengoh Dam, looking up at that massive wall of concrete. It’s always humbling to see where the human world ends and the wilderness begins. We loaded our gear onto the boat, my orange pack, Kerry’s green one, and Nizam’s bright yellow.

The 30-minute boat ride across the reservoir felt like crossing a mirror. The water was so still, reflecting the mist-heavy peaks of Sarawak. We were heading for the delta of Sungai Baban, a place that feels completely detached from the rest of the world.

The Sponge-Sand Delta

The boatman dropped us off at the river’s mouth, a vast sandy basin that shouldn't feel the way it does. Every time I stepped forward, the ground gave way with a strange, porous resistance. It felt exactly like walking on a giant sponge. It’s disorienting at first, the earth is soft, damp, and alive beneath your boots. It was the first sign that Sungai Baban plays by its own rules.

Following the Amber Vein

As we pushed deeper, the landscape tightened. The river here is a pure blackwater system. I watched the water swirl around the rocks, it’s the color of strong tea, stained deep amber by the forest’s tannins.

The colors of our group stood out sharply against the emerald green of the canopy and the dark, wet stone: Nizam was ahead, his yellow backpack a moving marker against the shadows. Kerry moved steadily with his green pack, almost blending into the riverside ferns. And me, bringing up the rear in my orange gear, keeping an eye on the line.

Scaling the Cascades

The exploration turned vertical quickly. This wasn't a trail; it was a scramble. We were scaling massive, moss-slicked boulders and navigating the tiered waterfalls that define Sungai Baban.

I can still feel the spray of the cascades on my face. There were moments where the rock walls leaned in so close I could touch both sides of the canyon. The geology here is incredible, ancient, layered stone carved out by centuries of floods. We climbed until our lungs burned, pushing through chutes of rushing water and finding deep, still pools that looked like liquid obsidian.

Looking back on my hike...

Sitting here now, my boots are still caked in that delta sand. The Bengoh Range has a way of stripping everything back to the basics: breath, grip, and the next step. For me the Sungai Baban is a very enjoyable and easy trek, the silence of those upper falls is worth every ounce of effort.

I’ll need to remember the way the light hit the amber water at noon. It’s a side of Sarawak that most people will never see.

Padawan Mount Danie — An Exploration Through Caves, Cliffs, and Chaos

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 12 Oct 2025 11:44:00 +0800

It was one of those mornings when the alarm clock felt like an enemy. The sun had barely yawned, yet our troop of caffeine-fueled adventurers was already assembling at the base, pretending to be awake. Everyone smiled for the group photo, the universal “before” picture where our clothes were still clean and our spirits high.

The day’s mission sounded simple on paper: explore the limestone formations hidden deep within Borneo’s rainforest, climb to the summit, and make it back alive. Simple. Until you remember that “Borneo simple” usually means steep trails, slippery mud, and enough humidity to steam-cook your socks.

Limestone hills like these are millions of years old, sculpted by rain and rivers into labyrinths of caves. They’re nature’s slow masterpiece, beautiful, dangerous, and not the best place to discover your fear of heights.

The trail swallowed us whole. Within minutes, we were knee-deep in a symphony of cicadas, dripping leaves, and the occasional suspicious rustle in the undergrowth. My boots squelched with each step, as if the jungle was trying to keep them.

There’s something humbling about walking through this living world. Every fallen log carried a city of mushrooms. Every vine seemed to whisper, “Careful where you step, city boy.” We spotted colorful fungi glowing like tiny lanterns, nature’s quiet reminder that beauty doesn’t always shout for attention.

Of course, between appreciating biodiversity and avoiding face-plants, I managed to slip once or twice. Maybe three times. My teammates pretended not to laugh, but the cameras told another story.

The mouth of the cave yawned before me, wide and wet, swallowing sunlight whole. The air turned cool, and my voices echoed off unseen walls. Flashlights flickered to life, cutting through the thick blackness to reveal a hidden world.

Stalactites hung like ancient chandeliers, dripping rhythmically onto the muddy floor. Each drop was busy building the future, millimeter by millimeter. A few bats fluttered deeper in the shadows, probably gossiping about the noisy humans disturbing their peace.

I ducked too late under a low ceiling and earned a nice bump on the head. That’s when I learned two things: first, caves are hard; second, helmets exist for a reason.

I moved slowly, careful not to touch the delicate formations. One careless handprint can halt centuries of mineral growth. In that quiet space, it was easy to feel small, a fleeting visitor inside an Earth that never stops breathing.

I go back to where I entered. The cave mouth now opened into a beam of sunlight filtering through vines. It looked like a scene from a fantasy movie, except I smelled worse.

The final ascent was brutal. Ropes, roots, and gravity teamed up against us, but stubbornness won. At the top, the Malaysian flag fluttered proudly, overlooking a sea of green hills and limestone towers stretching into the horizon.

The wind was strong, the view was jaw-dropping, and my legs were begging for retirement. But standing there, surrounded by silence and sky, it all felt worth it. Someone joked that from this height, you could see your excuses floating away.

Up here, every drop of sweat was a tribute to the forest to the roots that held the soil, the rivers that carved the rock, and the people who keep these wild places alive. We left nothing behind but footprints and a renewed respect for the land that shaped us.

Going up was tough, but going down? That’s where you discover muscles you didn’t know existed. The ropes became lifelines, and every step required negotiation with physics.

At one point, I slipped again, this time in slow motion, grabbing vines like an overdramatic Tarzan. My brother laughed so hard they almost fell too. Nothing builds brothood like shared near-death experiences.

The trail seemed longer on the way back, as if the jungle didn’t want to let us go. But despite the fatigue and the mud, there was a quiet satisfaction in retracing our steps a reminder that adventure is not about conquering nature, but walking humbly through it.

Hours later, we stumbled out of the forest, muddy, sunburnt, and smiling. The cars never looked so beautiful. Group photos were taken, snacks devoured, and everyone shared exaggerated tales of bravery.

We came for the view, but we left with stories the kind that stick to your memory like leech marks to your leg.

Until the next expedition, the jungle sleeps, and so will we.

A Family Getaway to Adis Buan Stream

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 21 Sep 2025 10:15:00 +0800

The sweltering heat was unforgiving. Inside our home, the air felt heavy and stagnant, every surface seemed to radiate warmth. My wife and I quickly realised we couldn’t simply endure another sticky afternoon indoors — so we packed up a light basket, called the kids over, and decided the only cure was to plunge into a stream.

The outing began with a modest path, shaded yet alive with the trill of insects and the whisper of leaves brushing against one another. A slim wooden beam stretched across a shallow gully, acting as our first balancing act. My son clutched my wife’s arm as they crossed, careful yet smiling, haha.

Soon the path opened up to a view that instantly lifted our mood. The Adis Buan stream glided steadily, its stone bed shimmering in the daylight, while towering branches arched above to form a cool ceiling of green. My wife wandered over the rocky banks, pausing now and then to absorb the calm beauty surrounding us.

The children could barely wait. One by one, we slipped into the current. The temperature was perfect, refreshing enough to erase the day’s heat, but gentle enough to linger in. My daughter tiptoed beneath an enormous tree with roots curling like anchors into the earth, while my son wasted no time splattering water in the shallows.

The stream quickly turned into a stage for joy. With my feet soaking at the edge, I watched the kids dash about in the playful flow, chasing each other across slick stones. Their laughter carried down the valley, mingling with the bubbling song of the water.

My boy, grinning wide, found endless fun simply sitting in the current, letting it press against him. He looked entirely at ease, as if the riverbed itself was built as his playground. My daughter, close by, tested her courage against the stronger ripples, steadying herself with each step.

When our energy softened, we gathered around the stones to enjoy our small picnic. Sandwiches, fruit, and cold drinks somehow tasted richer out here. The forest murmured around us, reminding us how alive and untamed this pocket of nature still was.

Hiking Exploration to Libuan Tukom Waterfall

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Fri, 5 Sep 2025 20:27:00 +0800

The first glimpse of Mount Serapi’s ridgeline — rugged peaks rising above the endless jungle canopy.

It started with a simple suggestion from Michael. He told us about a place, tucked deep inside the green folds of Kuching’s jungle — Libuan Tukom waterfall. The name alone was enough to stir curiosity. Not the kind of place marked on tourist maps, but a trail whispered among adventurers.

Andrew volunteered his off-road car, and soon the three of us — Andrew, Michael, and myself — were bouncing along the rugged dirt tracks toward the trailhead. The journey in itself was an adventure. With Andrew behind the wheel, the car clawed its way through uneven paths, mud patches, and overgrown jungle roads, until we reached the point where the hike would begin.

Michael leading the way with Andrew, as we began our hike on the wide trail into the forest.

A small jungle stream marking the start of our adventure — cool, clear, and alive with the sound of rushing water.

Amber waters weaving their way through rocks, a forest symphony in liquid form.

The trail to Libuan Tukom is only about 2.8 kilometers, yet it feels like stepping into another world. We set off at an easy pace, knowing we had just under an hour of trekking ahead of us. The path started wide, flanked by ferns and young saplings. Every now and then the forest opened up, offering a glimpse of the distant ridgeline where mountains stood like silent sentinels against a moody sky.

Walking side by side, we could hear the crunch of soil under our boots and the faint chorus of cicadas hidden high in the trees. The air was fresh, heavy with the earthy perfume of damp soil and moss.

Our first waterfall encounter — roots and rocks interwoven with the cascade, like nature’s own artwork.

A mossy stream flowing gently between boulders, every corner whispering “untouched wilderness.”

Halfway in, the trail brought us to a series of small streams. Their water, stained amber by the forest floor, danced over stones and fallen logs. We paused to fill our bottles and splash our faces, the coolness a welcome relief from the humid climb. The sound of rushing water accompanied us as we pressed on, weaving deeper into the jungle.

The magnificent basin waterfall of Libuan Tukom — carved through time, framed by towering rock layers.

Standing in awe under the cascade, dwarfed by the rock face and humbled by the force of nature.

After about 50 minutes, the distant rumble of falling water reached our ears. Excitement quickened our steps until the trail suddenly gave way to an open clearing — and there it was. Libuan Tukom waterfall, a stunning basin carved out of time and geology. Layered rock walls formed a natural amphitheater where the water cascaded down, collecting into a dark pool below.

Standing at its base, I felt small. Roots of ancient trees clung to the rock walls, vines dangled down like nature’s curtains, and the water fell in steady streams that echoed through the canyon.

Michael was right — this place was worth every step.

Behind the waterfall — a misty hidden world where time slows and every drop feels alive.

Looking down from the top of the falls, the plunge pool glistening like a bronze mirror.

A gentle upper-tier stream, sliding quietly over smooth stone into the jungle below.

The upper waterfall surrounded by moss-covered boulders, each one like a sleeping giant.

A wall of rock and vines, where water trickles down in countless silver threads.

We didn’t stop at just admiring the falls from below. Curiosity drove us to climb higher. We scrambled up moss-covered boulders and found ourselves behind the curtain of water. From there, the world outside looked blurred, a shifting lens of droplets and mist. It felt like standing inside the heartbeat of the jungle.

Pushing further, we climbed to the upper tier of the falls. Looking down, the pool below appeared like a bronze mirror framed by stone and green. The rocks above were slick but beautiful, with smaller streams and trickles feeding the main cascade.

We explored upstream where the river wound its way through cracks in the rock, forming smaller falls and pools that looked untouched by human presence. Moss grew thick, vines hung low, and the forest whispered around us.

From above: the water plunging into a narrow chasm, carving its way into stone for centuries.

A different perspective of the waterfall — seen through dangling roots and jungle curtains.

Though the hike was short — less than three kilometers — the experience was rich, layered with discovery. The terrain wasn’t punishing, but it rewarded us with a hidden world that felt far away from the noise of daily life.

Libuan Tukom waterfall may not have the fame of other Sarawak giants, but it carries the raw beauty of a place still held close by the jungle. For me, Michael, and Andrew, this little adventure reminded us why we hike: not just to reach a destination, but to uncover the quiet wonders waiting along the way.

Hiking Bukit Tama, Serian – A Father & Son Adventure

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 17 Aug 2025 21:11:00 +0800

There’s something magical about starting a hike with a kid. You’re never sure whether you’ll end up at the summit… or at the nearest snack stall. For me and my boy, this time, it was Bukit Tama in Serian, Kuching, Sarawak. And let me tell you — it turned out to be a little mountain full of big stories.

The trail began like most jungle hikes in Sarawak — narrow, earthy, and lined with leaves that stick to your shoes like unwanted hitchhikers. My boy, armed with a walking stick that looked more like a wizard’s staff, marched ahead with all the seriousness of a seasoned trekker.

Behind us, the rest of the hikers snaked up the trail, their backpacks bobbing like colorful beetles.

“Are we there yet?” came the classic line, barely five minutes in. Ah yes, the soundtrack of every family adventure.

As we climbed higher, the trees parted to reveal sprawling valleys and mist-draped peaks. Some of the mountains in the distance looked like they’d been sculpted by giants — towering cliffs, odd head-shaped profiles, and ridges fading into layers of blue.

Every so often, my boy would stop, plant his stick like a surveyor, and announce, “This is my land now.” Who was I to argue? Sarawak is big enough for both of us.

Bukit Tama isn’t just jungle. Midway up, the trail cut through paddy field and pepper farms, rows upon rows of vines tied neatly to stakes. Farmers were already at work, while our little group of sweaty hikers puffed and huffed our way through their backyard.

At one point, the path became so steep it felt like climbing an escalator that had broken down. Some of us tried to look heroic. Most of us just looked like we badly needed teh c peng.

Then came the open hillside, where the jungle gave way to bare earth. A bamboo lookout stood like a skeleton against the sky, half-built but standing proud. The wind carried the smell of earth and rain, while the valley below stretched endlessly — ridges, forests, pepper gardens, all the way to where the horizon dissolved into mist.

My boy, shirt damp with sweat, stood there gazing out. For a moment, he looked like a miniature explorer staring down his kingdom.

And finally, there it was: the signboard declaring Puncak Gunung Tama, 478 meter, Kampung Mawang Tahup, Serian, Sarawak. Flags of Sarawak and Malaysia flapped proudly beside it.

We took the obligatory summit selfie, of course. Mine with a half-proud, half-exhausted look. His with that face of “Dad, we better get ice cream after this.”

On the bamboo viewing platform, the two of us stood shoulder to shoulder. The valley rolled out beneath us like a green ocean, and the flags waved above our heads.

This, I thought, is why I bring him along. It’s not just about the mountain. It’s about standing together at the top, no matter how many “are we there yets” it took to get here.

On the way down, he stopped to blow on a dandelion-like flower, sending its white fluff dancing into the breeze. A small thing, but it reminded me adventures aren’t measured only in meters climbed or views conquered. They’re found in those playful pauses, the laughter, the wonder in a child’s eyes when the jungle whispers something new.

We re-entered the bamboo groves, the cool shade wrapping around us like a reward for the sweaty climb. The ground was soft with fallen leaves, and the forest hummed with life. Step after step, we retraced our path, tired but happy.

Poshi Cave Exploration (Gua Posih) , Sarawak Delta Geopark

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 13 Jul 2025 15:08:00 +0800

Entrance to Gua Posih (Poshi Cave) at Merembeh Caving Park in Bau, Sarawak. Poshi Cave – known locally as Gua Posih – is a limestone cavern located near Kampung Merembeh in the Bau district of Kuching Division, Sarawak. It lies about 30–36 km from Kuching and is part of the limestone karst landscape of the Sarawak Delta Geopark. The cave is one of two major caverns (the other being Gua Kayu) in the Merembeh Caving Park, a community-managed eco-tourism site. Poshi Cave is noted for its impressive natural features and rich cultural history: it served as a refuge for local villagers in past eras and today contains remnants of that history. The site has become a key geotourism attraction, valued for both its geological significance and its indigenous heritage within the Sarawak Delta Geopark.

Historical Overview of Poshi Cave

Poshi Cave has a history deeply intertwined with the local Bidayuh community of Kampung Merembeh. During the colonial era, both Poshi and the nearby Gua Kayu were used as hiding places by villagers seeking refuge from external threats. Oral histories passed down in the community recount that ancestors sheltered in these caverns during times of turmoil, although specific events (such as warfare or unrest) are not fully documented in written records. The caves’ role as wartime or conflict-era sanctuaries has endowed them with a legendary status locally – they are said to hold “a thousand and one stories” of the villagers’ past struggles and resilience

Over time, explorers and locals have discovered artifacts and remnants within Poshi Cave that testify to its historical use. These historical artifacts (likely old tools, utensils, or other belongings left by those who took shelter) underscore the cave’s importance as a cultural time capsule. Unlike the famous Niah Caves or Gua Sireh in Sarawak, Poshi Cave is not widely known for prehistoric human remains or rock paintings; its significance is more in the realm of recent historical and community memory. The village of Merembeh itself was only established in the 1930s, which suggests Poshi Cave’s human use has been primarily within the last century or so, rather than in deep prehistory.

From the late 20th century onwards, Poshi Cave also became an economic resource for locals through swiftlet bird’s nest harvesting. Starting in the 1970s, Kampung Merembeh villagers have routinely collected the edible nests of swiftlets in Poshi Cave as a source of income. This practice, common in Bornean limestone caves, involves gathering hardened swiftlet saliva nests high on cave walls, prized in Chinese cuisine (bird’s nest soup). The continued harvesting activity indicates that the cave has been continuously frequented by the community for decades, blending traditional livelihood with conservation (as the harvesting is done seasonally and sustainably by locals).

In recent years, the historical and natural allure of Poshi Cave spurred a push for eco-tourism and exploration. Around 2019–2021, community leaders and the Sarawak authorities worked together to develop Merembeh Caving Park as a tourist destination. With a modest grant (approximately RM70,000) and gotong-royong (community collective effort), the villagers improved access to the cave, installed basic facilities, and began offering guided tours. By 2020, the site was officially launched under the management of Koperasi Kampung Merembeh (the village cooperative) and Tourism Malaysia, reflecting a formal recognition of Poshi Cave as a tourism product. Exploration of the cave by adventure tourists and local caving enthusiasts has revealed large chambers adorned with stalactites and other speleothems (mineral formations), highlighting the cave’s dramatic interior. Basic infrastructure such as solar-powered lighting has been added inside the cavern to facilitate safer visitation, without resorting to heavy development that could harm its natural state.

Poshi Cave within the Sarawak Delta Geopark

Poshi Cave is situated within the Sarawak Delta Geopark (SDGp), a 3,112 km² area that was recognized as Malaysia’s sixth national geopark in June 2022. The Sarawak Delta Geopark encompasses the Kuching–Bau region, including Bako National Park, Mount Santubong, and the Bau limestone karst zone. As part of this geopark, Poshi Cave contributes to the rich geological heritage that the SDGp aims to protect and promote. In fact, Sarawak authorities have identified the Bau Karst area – where Poshi Cave is located – as one of the key geosites for geotourism development. A state-supported geosite development project launched in 2023 focuses on mapping and enhancing three main locations: the Fossil Trail at Wind Cave (Gua Angin), Lubang Posih (Poshi Cave) at Merembeh, and the Paku Rock Maze Garden. This indicates that Poshi Cave is formally recognized as a geosite (or part of a geosite cluster) within the Sarawak Delta Geopark, alongside more famous caves like Wind and Fairy Cave.

Geologically, Poshi Cave is formed in the Bau Limestone Formation, an extensive carbonate rock formation that dates to the Late Jurassic–Early Cretaceous period (approximately 163 to 100 million years ago). During that time, the area was a shallow marine environment where calcium-carbonate sediments from coral reefs and marine organisms accumulated and eventually lithified into limestone. Over millions of years, tectonic uplift exposed these limestones, and acidic rainwater and groundwater slowly dissolved the rock along fractures – a process of karstification that created caves and tunnels. Poshi Cave is one of many caverns in the Bau karst landscape, which is characterized by jagged limestone hills, sinkholes, and underground streams. Notably, the region’s caves (including Wind Cave and others nearby) contain fossil shells and gastropods embedded in the limestone walls and ceilings, offering visible evidence of the area’s ancient marine origin. While specific fossil studies of Poshi Cave are not yet published, the same Bau Limestone outcrop is known to yield such fossils and unique minerals, underscoring the cave’s geological value.

From a geomorphological perspective, Poshi Cave likely features the typical attractions of a tropical limestone cave: spacious chambers, stalagmites and stalactites, flowstones, and possibly bat guano mounds. The interior maintains a cool, humid atmosphere and is home to cave-dwelling creatures. Indeed, bats and swiftlets inhabit Poshi Cave, contributing to its ecosystem – the bats aid in insect control, and the swiftlets produce the edible nests mentioned earlier. The presence of these species adds a biological dimension to the cave’s significance. In recognition of such natural attributes, the Sarawak Delta Geopark classifies sites like Poshi as both geological and biological heritage sites. The cave’s inclusion in the Geopark has justified protective measures and responsible tourism practices to ensure that its stalactites, rock formations, and wildlife are preserved even as visitors come to appreciate them. As part of the geopark’s educational and tourism mission, Poshi Cave serves as an outdoor classroom illustrating karst geology and human history side by side. Local geologists and the Department of Minerals and Geoscience have been conducting detailed mapping of Poshi Cave and its surroundings, not only to assess its scientific value but also to plan sustainable tourist infrastructure. By highlighting Poshi Cave in geopark literature and tours, Sarawak showcases a lesser-known gem that complements the region’s famed show caves. The cave’s contributions to the Sarawak Delta Geopark’s goals are thus twofold: it enriches the geodiversity of the park (with its Jurassic-age limestone and cave formations) and it embodies the geo-cultural heritage of local people (through the stories and uses attached to it).

Cultural and Indigenous Significance of Poshi Cave

A view inside Poshi Cave, where local villagers traditionally harvested swiftlet bird nests. Poshi Cave holds profound cultural and indigenous significance for the Bidayuh villagers of Kampung Merembeh and the wider Bau community. Historically, the cave was more than a natural formation – it was a sanctuary and shelter. During the era of the Brooke Rajahs and later the Second World War (collectively referred to as the “colonial period” by locals), villagers fled into Gua Posih to hide from armed conflicts or oppressive forces. This practice of seeking refuge in caves is a known theme in Bornean history, and at Poshi Cave it became a defining narrative for the community’s survival. The tale of how ancestors used the dark recesses of Poshi to evade danger has been passed down through generations (cerita turun-temurun), instilling in local youth a sense of pride and respect for the cave as a “protector” of their people. In this way, Poshi Cave is intertwined with the identity of Kampung Merembeh – it stands as a monument to their collective memory and resilience.

In addition to its role as a wartime haven, Poshi Cave has long been integrated into the livelihood and traditions of the local community. The cave’s resident swiftlet population made it an important site for harvesting edible bird’s nests, an economic activity that the Bidayuh villagers adopted around the 1970s and continue to practice to this day. Collecting the delicate nests (composed of the birds’ saliva) from high cave ceilings is a skilled traditional practice, often done using ladders or bamboo poles. Elders in the village have imparted their knowledge of safe and sustainable harvesting techniques to younger generations, treating it almost as a rite of passage for those who venture into the cave. This practice not only provided supplementary income (as the nests fetch high prices) but also reinforced community cooperation and respect for the cave’s natural cycle. Even now, visitors to Poshi Cave can learn about and witness demonstrations of traditional bird-nest collecting methods, highlighting an indigenous knowledge system that has been maintained over decades.

The spiritual or ritual significance of Poshi Cave is less documented in public sources, but like many indigenous communities, the Bidayuh likely approach such natural sites with reverence. Before the spread of Christianity in the region, caves and mountains often figured in local animist beliefs. It would not be surprising if elders performed simple rituals or prayers for safety before entering the cave to harvest nests or during times of refuge. While no specific legends of spirits or deities tied to Poshi Cave are recorded in the sources, the cave is nonetheless viewed as part of the community’s penunggu (guarded domain) – essentially a place with guardian spirits or at least one that commands caution and respect. Today, as most villagers are Christian, any spiritual aspect might be expressed in the form of thankful church prayers for the refuge and bounty the cave provided.

Crucially, Poshi Cave’s cultural significance is also evolving in the modern context: it has become a symbol of community empowerment and heritage preservation. The establishment of Merembeh Caving Park is a community-driven effort that not only opens the cave to outside visitors but also ensures that the stewardship remains in local hands. The villagers formed a cooperative to manage the site, handle ticketing, maintain cleanliness, and serve as guides – effectively turning their cultural asset into a sustainable enterprise. Former Serembu assemblyman Miro Simuh, who supported the project, highlighted that this initiative helped shift the rural economy from sole dependence on farming towards heritage tourism. The fact that youth from the village are trained as cave guides and staff means that the knowledge of Poshi Cave’s history and ecology is being actively transferred and kept alive. Community members like “Tom” – a local tour guide – have found new livelihoods by sharing the cave’s stories and wonders with visitors. This community-based approach aligns perfectly with the Geopark’s ethos of linking geological sites with cultural and educational value.

In summary, Poshi Cave (Gua Posih) is more than just a natural cavern; it is a cultural landmark for Sarawak’s indigenous heritage. It embodies the symbiosis between people and place: from providing physical shelter and economic resources to inspiring community cohesion and pride. As part of the Sarawak Delta Geopark, Poshi Cave’s cultural narratives are now being showcased alongside its geology, ensuring that any discussion of its stalactites and Jurassic limestone is also a discussion of the Bidayuh villagers who have called it a second home in times of need. This integration of cultural significance with natural heritage is precisely what makes Poshi Cave a valuable geosite – a place where geology, history, and living tradition converge. The cave’s continued preservation and its role in community tourism will help safeguard both the tangible and intangible heritage associated with it for future generations.

Entrance of Poshi Cave, our gateway to adventure

Ready for the cave! My brother Kerry geared up and excited for exploration.

Venturing deeper into Poshi Cave—amazing rock formations greet us at every turn.

A peaceful swiftlet resting in its cozy nest, perfectly adapted to life in the dark cave.

Crossing a subterranean stream inside Poshi Cave, nature's hidden pathway.

Marveling at the grand limestone architecture sculpted by water and time.

Breathtaking stalactites and stalagmites—a natural masterpiece inside Poshi Cave.

Exploring the serene underground stream—each step unveils another wonder.

Nature’s sculptures, formed drop by drop, inside the tranquil darkness.

Fascinating cave formations, sculpted by centuries of mineral-rich water.

Discussing our next move—Poshi Cave continues to amaze.

Unique textures on cave walls, evidence of water's delicate sculpting over time.

Ripple patterns etched by ancient underground streams.

Roots from above, reaching into the cave's mysterious world.

Pausing by the crystal-clear stream, marveling at cave life.

A fascinating fossil preserved underwater—a glimpse into Poshi Cave's ancient past.

Tall ceilings and narrow passages—Poshi Cave’s silent grandeur.

A well-preserved fossil embedded in limestone—a fascinating glimpse into prehistoric times.

Following the winding subterranean stream deeper into Poshi Cave's wonders.

Intricate mineral veins creating stunning natural artwork on the cave walls.

A rare close-up: a cave spider enjoying its meal in the shadows.

Tiny cricket spotted exploring the dark, moist cave floor.

Harvestman spider carefully navigating the cave's unique terrain.

Surprising find: Freshwater prawn thriving in Poshi Cave's hidden waters.

Our guide Tom, gently handling the cave prawn—showcasing cave biodiversity.

Crystal-clear streams guide our path deeper into the cave's heart.

Immersed in Poshi Cave's dramatic passageways, carved by water over millennia.

An underground lake within Poshi Cave, mysterious and captivating.

Cave explorers amid stunning limestone formations—a spectacular view

Ancient seashell fossil—evidence of Poshi Cave's underwater origins.

My brother Kerry marveling at Poshi Cave's towering chambers.

Navigating through tight passages, an intimate encounter with Poshi Cave's formations.

Corridors of rippled stone carved meticulously by flowing water.

A fascinating transtula spider guarding its silk-lined burrow.

Water-sculpted rock pools—a testament to the cave’s continuous transformation.

A natural corridor adorned by magnificent limestone formations.

An emerald-hued underground pool, hidden deep within Poshi Cave.

Exploring the tranquil stream that mirrors the incredible limestone formations around us.

Water and time, nature's most patient artists, sculpt these beautiful patterns into the cave walls

Textured ripples in the rock walls—evidence of thousands of years of flowing water.

Nature’s artistry! Intricate crystal formations decorate the cave walls.

Tree roots breaking through rock ceilings, reaching desperately for life and moisture below

Shimmering glow worm silk threads hang gracefully from the cave ceiling, resembling magical strings of luminous pearls.

Traversing a magnificent subterranean passage carved through millions of years, showcasing the awe-inspiring beauty hidden beneath the surface.

A fascinating cave formation resembling delicate white coral branches etched on stone, nature’s intricate masterpiece.

If you wish to visit the Poshi Cave, you can contact Tom at +60 11-5144 7637

Do call him directly instead of texting or whatsapp.

Happy Caving

Cheers,

Wilson Chin

Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island - Accomodation - Sandflies - Post 4 of 4

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Mon, 30 Jun 2025 12:47:00 +0800

🏝️ Our Stay at Satang Besar Island – Simple, Rustic & Heartwarming

Unlike your typical island getaway, Satang Besar Island doesn’t come with luxury resorts, infinity pools, or 24-hour electricity. What it offers instead is something much more memorable—simplicity, peace, and genuine human warmth.

The place we stay is on the right

We bring our own cooking stove and food and drinking water

We stayed in a basic wooden cabin, equipped with just beds, fans, and a roof over our heads. Electricity came from a generator that runs from 6:30pm to around 6:30am, and rainwater was our only water source—a reminder of how precious and limited resources can be on an island like this.

this is the kitchen

the kitchek again

What truly made our stay special was Letty, the island’s one and only caretaker. An older lady with a kind heart and fluent English, Letty is the soul of Satang Besar. She does everything—keeping the rooms clean, cooking for the park rangers, maintaining the kitchen, collecting rubbish, handling guest reservations, and even doing minor repairs around the place, she is even kind enoug to offer us food to eat. Always smiling, always helpful.

We managed to take a photo with Letty before we left—a small gesture for someone who gave us such a big island welcome.

If you're planning to visit and want to stay overnight, Letty is the person to talk to. You can reach her at 📞 +60 11-3631 6579.

Come prepared to rough it a little—but leave with a full heart. 💛

🚢The Boat to go to Satand Besar Island

This is Pian (handsome guy in black), we use his boat to go to Satang Besar Island, his contact is 📞+60 19 824 8506

🦟 Sandfly Attack at the Beach – They Loved Me Too Much!

During our recent 3D2N family trip to Satang Besar Island, I had the unforgettable honor of becoming a five-star buffet for the island’s tiniest vampires—sandflies.

On Day 1, I was happily strolling the beach, soaking in the sea breeze… completely unaware that sandflies were secretly organizing an all-you-can-eat special—with me on the menu. 😩 That night, my back started to itch. By the next morning, it looked like I had lost a wrestling match with a cactus.

Meanwhile, my wife and son? Not a single bite. Zero. Clean skin. My daughter got a few small ones. But me? I was absolutely devoured.

Then it hit me—I'm Blood Type O, and the rest of my family are Blood Type B. According to science (and now backed by personal trauma), sandflies prefer O-type blood. I guess I was their ultimate delicacy—tender, juicy, and generously available. 🍽️

But hey… I don't mind. If sacrificing my skin means protecting my family from the itchy horror, I’ll gladly be the sandfly magnet. Bring it on, little beasts. I'm your volunteer tribute. 😆

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

💊 What Helped Me:

To manage the itch and avoid infection, I used:

Oral antihistamines: I took Cetirizine in the morning (non-drowsy), and Chlorpheniramine at night to help me sleep.
Topical creams: Applied hydrocortisone cream and calamine lotion to soothe the inflammation.
Cold compresses: This helped reduce swelling and itching naturally.
Aloe vera gel: Especially the cooling type—very soothing!

📝 My Advice:

Don’t ignore sandfly bites—they creep up hours later.
Avoid scratching—it’ll make it worse and may lead to infection.
Bring antihistamines and itch cream if you're going to the beach or forest.
Use insect repellent, especially during sunrise and sunset.

This is not my first major sandfly attack, but is one of the most serious one and it’s one lesson I won’t forget. If you’re heading to a beach in Borneo, especially remote ones like Satang, be prepared—not just for turtles, but also for tiny biting ninjas in the sand.

🔖Read the Full Stoy here 🌐

1.Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island Day 1 - Post 1 of 4

2.Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island Day 2 - Post 2 of 4

3.Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island Day 3 - Post 3 of 4

4.Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island - Accomodation - Sandflies - Post 4 of 4

Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island Day 3 - Post 3 of 4

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 29 Jun 2025 08:22:00 +0800

🌊 Day 3: Farewell to Satang — A Scenic Send-Off by Sea and Sky

Our final morning on Satang Besar Island arrived like the last page of a cherished storybook — beautiful, quiet, and just a little hard to close. After two days of unforgettable wildlife encounters and beachside bonding, it was time to say goodbye.

The kids were up early, still full of wonder from yesterday's sea turtle conservation experience and beach cleanup mission. As we packed our bags and tidied up the ranger station, the gentle rhythm of the waves seemed to echo our thoughts: "Do we really have to leave?"

With the sky painted in soft blues and the sun casting gold across the sand, we boarded our little boat, life jackets on, hearts full.

🚤 Bonus Adventure: A Boat Ride Around Satang Besar Island

But just as we were preparing to head straight back to the mainland — our ever-thoughtful boatman turned to us with a smile and said,
“Want to go around the island first?”

Yes! A full 360° boat tour around Satang Besar itself.

What a treat that was. As the boat slowly circled the island, we were treated to views you’d never get from the beach:

Towering rock cliffs, jagged and wind-worn
Dense coastal forest, clinging to the slopes like a green waterfall
Hidden coves and tiny pockets of sand
The occasional sea eagle soaring overhead

We passed by the far end of the island, where the rock formations looked like something out of a pirate movie. It was a rare perspective — seeing the entire island wrapped in the blue silk of the sea.

The kids leaned over the edge, pointing at tiny crabs sunning on coastal rocks and fish darting through the shallows. For a moment, it felt like we were explorers discovering new shores.

🐦 Nature’s Finale at Tokong Ara — The Bird Island

As we bid farewell to Satang Besar, another surprise awaited us. The boat veered slightly — toward a rugged, rocky islet not far off the coast.

Tokong Ara Island.

We didn’t plan for it. But this small, dramatic island — blanketed in lush greenery and swarming with migratory seabirds — became the unexpected highlight of our trip.

Our boatman, once again going the extra mile, circled us slowly around the island, letting us soak in this real-life National Geographic scene.

Birds swooping, diving, and calling overhead
Whitewashed nesting cliffs peppered with bird poop (lots of it — nature’s graffiti!)
Old nesting boards still clinging to the rocks, remnants of research past
My son giggling and striking a pose, pointing dramatically at the cliffs like a mini wildlife host

It was wild, loud, chaotic… and absolutely mesmerizing.

If Satang taught us about conservation, Tokong Ara reminded us about coexistence — nature doing its thing, unfiltered and untouched.

💬 Reflections on the Final Day

Our boat finally turned its nose toward the mainland, the islands shrinking behind us, the kids still buzzing with stories to tell.

This was more than a vacation.
It was an adventure packed with wonder — the kind that’s hard to describe and impossible to forget.

We came for the turtles.
We stayed for the birds.
And we left with full hearts and sandy shoes.

Would we come again?
In a heartbeat.

🔖Read the Full Stoy here 🌐

Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island Day 2 - Post 2 of 4

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sat, 28 Jun 2025 08:05:00 +0800

🐢 Day 2 – Guardians of the Island: A Day with Turtles, Tidepools & Tenacity

The second day on Satang Besar began long before sunrise.

At 5:30 a.m., while the island was still cloaked in silence, I was gently woken by the ranger’s voice. Two turtles had come ashore during the night. Still groggy, I grabbed my flashlight—and my two curious kids—and made our way to the beach.

There they were.

Two majestic sea turtles, illuminated by the soft beam of torchlight, performing one of nature’s oldest rituals—laying their eggs. My wife, daughter, and son watched in silent reverence, witnessing a moment that no documentary could ever replicate. As the sun began to rise, we saw the turtles slowly crawl back to the sea, their paths marked by deep tracks in the sand.

And just like that, they were gone. But the morning wonder wasn’t over yet.

Around 7:30 a.m., the ranger returned to collect the eggs. He gently uncovered the nest and began counting—over 50 little turtle eggs! That’s when I nudged my kids and said, “Come on, time to help.” One by one, my son and daughter carefully lifted the eggs and placed them into a bucket. They were so focused, you’d think they were handling dragon eggs from a fantasy movie!

It was a proud parent moment. Watching them assist in real conservation work, right there with sandy fingers and serious expressions—it was more than just a holiday activity. It was a hands-on biology lesson, a lesson in empathy, and a memory they’ll carry for life.

🏝️ Tidepool Explorers and Saltwater Splashes

After a quick breakfast, we headed out for a morning of discovery. The tide was low, revealing a hidden world of rocky outcrops, tidepools, and little crabs scuttling between coral chunks. The kids transformed into island explorers—climbing, splashing, and pointing at every sea creature they could spot.

Later, we returned to our favourite pastime: swimming in crystal-clear water. The beach belonged to us alone. It was peaceful, calm... until the sandflies returned for Round Two—this time targeting my back like heat-seeking missiles. I’ll admit, I lost that battle.

But even the bites couldn’t dampen the joy of watching my children laugh in the waves, or the way the afternoon sun turned the ocean into shimmering glass.

♻️ Little Hands, Big Impact: Beach Cleanup Mission

After lunch, while walking along the shoreline, we noticed bits of plastic tangled in the driftwood and buried in the sand. Without hesitation, my two kids sprang into action.

We began a spontaneous beach cleanup, picking up every plastic wrapper, bottle cap, and piece of litter we could find. It wasn’t part of any organised activity—it was just a shared moment of purpose. Small hands reaching for big change.

My daughter collected bottle caps like treasures; my son proudly held up each new item like a victory. It was heartwarming to see them care, to see that even at their young age, they understood the importance of keeping the island clean—not just for us, but for the turtles too.

We left that beach with lighter hearts and a heavier bag of trash.

🦎 Afternoon Calm, Island Quiet

As the heat of midday set in, we retreated to our simple wooden hut—a modest shelter with just beds and a ceiling fan. Caretaker Letty, ever so kind, offered us chilled drinks and stories about her decades on the island.

The kids took a short nap while my wife and I watched the breeze dance through the coconut trees. There was no Wi-Fi, no distractions—just time. And that, I realised, was the real luxury of this island.

🌙 Nightfall with Heroes in Headlamps

That night, I had the privilege of joining two park rangers as they carried out conservation work under a blanket of stars. It wasn’t glamorous—it was sweaty, sandy, and swarming with sandflies—but it was inspiring beyond words.

We followed the tracks of another nesting turtle. Once she laid her eggs and began to cover the nest, the rangers sprang into action with practiced precision:

They cleared barnacles from her shell.
Measured her length and width.
Attached metal tags to both flippers—each with a serial number for tracking.
Dug up and carefully relocated the eggs to a protected hatchery site.

They moved quickly and methodically—despite the relentless sandfly bites. Not once did they flinch or complain. Their focus was absolute. Their mission, clear.

I was in awe.

It wasn’t just data collection. It was legacy work. They were giving the next generation of sea turtles a better chance at survival. And I got to be a small part of that story.

📝 Reflection

As I rinsed off the sand and salt under a bucket of collected rainwater, I couldn’t help but feel grateful. Day 2 wasn’t just another day on a beach. It was a lesson in dedication, in wonder, and in responsibility—from the rangers, and from my own children.

They came here for fun and sun—but left with something far more lasting: a connection to the Earth.

And that night, as the waves hummed their lullaby and the stars blinked above, we slept with hearts full of memories and mosquito bites.

🔖Read the Full Stoy here 🌐

Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island Day 1 - Post 1 of 4

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Fri, 27 Jun 2025 07:44:00 +0800

🐢 Day 1: Our Wild Welcome to Satang Besar — Sand, Sea, and Surprise Turtles

After months of planning (and several “Are we going to an island yet, Daddy?” interrogations), the day finally arrived. We kicked off our 3-day, 2-night family escape to Satang Besar Island, off the coast of Kuching. For my wife and kids, this was their very first island trip. For me? A return to paradise — plus, I now had two curious kids and one brave wife in tow.

🚤 From Jetty to Jungle Paradise

Our journey began with a boat ride that had just the right amount of "are we gonna tip?" to keep things exciting. As we zipped across the sea, Mount Santubong loomed in the distance, and the turquoise waters sparkled beneath us. It was straight out of a tourism brochure—minus the part where my son asked if the boat had Wi-Fi. 😅

When we finally arrived at Satang Besar, the soft golden sands welcomed us ashore. And so did Letty, this lady is the island's resident caretaker — a quiet legend who’s seen more turtle births than a maternity ward nurse.

🛖 Rustic Charm, Island-Style

Our accommodation? A simple wooden house—no aircon, no TV, no distractions. Just beds, a fan, and the sweet soundtrack of waves and birdsong. It was a refreshing change from city living... at least until the sandflies declared war on my ankles.

🐢 Hands-On with Baby Turtles

The real highlight of the afternoon was visiting the sea turtle hatchery. My daughter Sophia and son Gareth were enchanted. Sophia delicately picked up a hatchling like it was a crown jewel. Gareth tried to name every single one. I tried to look cool while photographing them like a National Geographic intern.

It was their first time seeing baby turtles, and the smiles on their faces were worth every bite from the sandflies.

🪁 Kites, Clear Water & Collected Showers

Next, we embraced island life. We swam in crystal-clear waters, flew kites on the open beach, and played pretend with driftwood spears and treasure hunts. Just when things seemed perfect, it started to rain. And by rain, I mean a full-blown tropical soak.

Most families would hide indoors. We became island survivalists.

The kids giggled their way through puddles, collecting rainwater in bottles for “jungle showers.” My wife took it to the next level, channeling her inner Bear Grylls by catching water with a giant leaf. Who needs plumbing when you have banana trees?

🌙 Night Patrol: Mission Turtle

Now, here’s where the story takes a National Geographic turn.

As the evening drizzled on, we almost called it a night—until Letty gave us “the look”. The “she’s-coming” look.

Rain or not, we grabbed our flashlights and headed to the dark beach. And there, glistening under moonlight and raindrops, was a sea turtle emerging from the surf.

My children were mesmerized. We kept our distance as she dug a nest, laid her eggs, and then rested, tired but graceful. And then—slowly—she turned back toward the sea, dragging herself into the waves, her ancient silhouette disappearing into the dark.

We stood in silence.

Even the sandflies gave us a break.

🦟 Honorable Mention: The Sandflies

A special shoutout to the unofficial welcome committee of Satang Besar—the sandflies. Persistent. Unrelenting. Unapologetic. They came. They bit. They conquered. Next trip, I’m bringing repellent, long pants, and possibly a flame-thrower.

🔖Read the Full Stoy here 🌐

Mysterious Valley Hike – Sarawak’s Untouched Wilderness

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sat, 7 Jun 2025 08:57:00 +0800

We Got Lost in a Hidden Valley — and Nature Showed Off Hard

Somewhere on the border of Sarawak lies a place with no trail markers, no cell signal, and definitely no Starbucks. We call it Hidden Valley — because, honestly, we have no idea what else to name it. It's not on the map, and we kind of want to keep it that way.

The squad? Michael, aka Yellow Boots; Andrew, the clean-shirt optimist; and me, Wilson, in my signature green and questionable judgment. Our mission? Explore a mysterious limestone gorge we spotted on satellite maps and never mentioned to our wives.

Into the wild we go! Michael in yellow boots leading the way, Andrew in white shirt questioning life choices, and me in green, wondering what snacks I forgot.

Behold! Nature’s version of a front door. If Batman lived in Borneo, this would be his cave

Cliff face or a massive green wall from Avatar? You decide. We were too busy picking our jaws up off the ground.

Misty mountain vibes. This cliff wears clouds like a fashion statement — jungle couture at its finest.

Limestone on beast mode. It’s like someone let nature chisel its masterpiece without supervision.

This peaceful stream is actually nature’s way of saying, ‘Good luck finding a dry spot to sit.

Can you spot the jungle graffiti? No, seriously — check out those brown blobs clinging to the cliffs like they own the place.

Fungi that look like they belong in a gourmet restaurant, but found thriving on rotting wood. Nature is a five-star chef.

Stone guardians of the forest — these twin limestone spires look like they’re having a serious conversation about who forgot the map.

Cave entrance or jungle portal? We didn’t go in, because horror movies have taught us better.

🌱 Into the Gorge, Where Google Maps Says “Good Luck”

The entrance looked like something out of Indiana Jones — narrow, dark, and suspiciously damp. The jungle swallowed us whole within minutes. Limestone walls rose up like ancient giants, dripping with moss and secrets. The trail? Ha. That’s cute.

We didn’t walk in — we slid. Mud, roots, and awkward grunts accompanied every step. Michael’s yellow boots squeaked heroically. Andrew kept asking, “Are you sure this is the way?”

Of course not. But we pressed on.

Rock solid fashion statement. Nature’s version of a Mohawk.

Michael casually striking a pose while the jungle tries to turn into an obstacle course.

Caution: Nature’s hallway ahead. No exit signs, just roots and wonder.

This hairy mushroom looks like it's ready to audition for a jungle rock band.🎸🍄

Me, pretending I didn’t just get smacked by a branch five seconds before this shot.😅🌿

Michael, admiring rock formations or just secretly hoping they lead to a vending machine. 🥾

Tiny pink fuzzballs on a log. Proof that fairies might exist.

When the jungle gives you a doorframe, you walk through like you own the place.

The vines say ‘Welcome to the jungle.’ The rocks say ‘Try not to trip.’

Narrow escape route or jungle’s secret passage to another dimension?

🪨 Rocks With Attitude

The deeper we went, the weirder it got. The limestone formations looked like stone sharks breaching from the forest floor. Some rocks had ridges so sharp they could slice egos.

We squeezed through stone corridors so narrow, I now have a new appreciation for noodles being pulled through a colander.

And then, as if Sarawak’s jungle wanted to flex, we entered a section of the gorge where sunlight barely reached — vines hanging like chandeliers, roots dancing mid-air, and boulders carved by water, time, and probably bored jungle spirits.

When your rock split harder than your friend’s New Year’s resolution.

Looks like a T-Rex once napped here. Or maybe just Andrew’s hiking boot imprint.

Moss mansion with a tiny tenant—this real estate market is wild!

Nature's Airbnb—100% clay, zero privacy. Termites call it home.

Zoom in and meet the six-pack gang. These termites don’t skip leg day.

If limestone walls could talk, this one would say, ‘Don’t touch my moss, bro.

Tiny jungle hair salon. Customers are mostly moss with attitude.

Dragonfly in stealth mode. Still waiting for its Marvel spin-off.

Ice crystals? Nope. Just jungle bling on a vine.

Twig fashion runway: Moss edition. The models are fierce (and photosynthetic).

🍄 Mushrooms With Hair, Termites With Real Estate Goals

This place is macro heaven. We found mushrooms that looked like alien coral and fungi so hairy, I almost offered it a comb.

One cluster of termites had built a luxury condo the size of a rugby ball — complete with a penthouse suite and tunnel network. We watched them work. I think one of them had abs.

The moss? Chef’s kiss. Velvet green, perfectly padded, and thriving like a TikTok influencer in Bali.

Mushroom runway models strutting their spores—nature’s version of Paris Fashion Week.

Tree: ‘Don’t look at my roots!’ Us: ‘Too late… we’re already impressed.’

When your jungle GPS says ‘this way,’ but it forgot to mention the tight squeeze.

Rocks doing their best impression of an accordion. Jungle jazz, anyone?

This baby shoot is clearly reaching for greatness. One day it'll be a tree... or a jungle overlord.

Alien plant spotted. Either that, or nature’s secret recipe for organic spaghetti.

Jungle grapes? Nope. Meet nature’s candy—don’t eat it unless you're a bird with steel intestines.

Tree roots, vines, rocks, and water—Mother Nature’s idea of an obstacle course.

Jungle stone standing strong like a guardian of ancient secrets (and probably a few leeches).

These limestone towers look like two jungle titans locked in a silent argument about who’s the coolest rock.

🌳 Limestone Labyrinth

At some point, a tree showed up that could only be described as “prehistoric.” It had buttress roots like armor plating. Standing beneath it felt like meeting a dinosaur's chiropractor.

Everything got wetter, steeper, and more dramatic. Nature went from “peaceful jungle” to “Lord of the Rings backdrop” real fast.

We climbed over stone arches, ducked under fallen logs, and started naming rock formations: “Dragon Fang,” “Tooth Fairy’s Cave,” and “Michael’s Last Nerve.”

Nature’s version of a hallway — just with more tripping hazards.

The jungle trail narrowing again, this time with attitude.
You don’t walk through here… you squeeze and pray

🚶 Exiting the Un-Googleable

Eventually, after hours of dodging thorny branches, misjudging puddle depths, and awkward jungle yoga poses, the gorge began to widen. Sunlight trickled in.

We made it out — scratched, soaked, and oddly energized. Andrew’s white shirt had evolved into a new shade of “Survivor Beige.” Michael’s boots were now certified jungle veterans. And me? I had 300 photos, 4 leech bites, and zero regrets.

We didn’t find treasure.
We didn’t discover a lost tribe.
But we found something better — a secret place only the jungle could’ve hidden this well.

🧭 Final Thought:

Some places don’t want to be found.
But if you treat nature with respect, curiosity… and waterproof socks,
it just might let you in.

Sleeping Under Stars, Hiking Over Borders – Our 3D2N Hike From Sarawak Peaks to Kalimantan Falls

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Mon, 12 May 2025 09:57:00 +0800

Day 1: Into the Wild – The Trans Engkilili Begins

When Ian and Fazi invited me to join a jungle expedition across five summits in Engkilili, I didn’t hesitate. We departed Kuching the day before, reaching Lubok Antu by nightfall. There, under the dim orange lights of a small town, we fueled up on local food and rest—knowing that the next three days would test our endurance, patience, and spirit.

Early the next morning, the sun was still shy behind the hills as a local 4WD rumbled us down a narrow gravel road, cutting through the lush mist-covered valleys. The journey to the trailhead was a prelude to the wilderness that lay ahead—raw, untamed, and breathtakingly beautiful.

Our packs, filled to the brim with food, gear, and hope, were shouldered with quiet determination. The trail started mild but quickly turned wild. Mud clung to our boots like glue, and the forest floor—slippery with damp leaves—demanded every ounce of balance. We trekked through thick vines, crossed collapsed trees, and at one point, scaled a narrow moss-covered rock wall, where one wrong step meant an intimate meeting with the forest floor.

Somewhere between Bukit Tangga Saran and Bukit Tiang Laju, we stumbled upon wild pitcher plants—nature’s quiet predators, dotting the jungle with their alien beauty. Further up, we spotted a patch of feathers—likely from a wild bird, a quiet reminder of how alive this forest truly was, even in its silence.

The midday sun filtered through the thick canopy as we ascended Bukit Perepau. We moved slowly but surely, pausing to admire strange fuzzy-leaved plants, ancient boundary markers, and even indulging in a lighthearted break with Kokko & May comics (hahaha, well actualy it was my kids who hide their comics into my backpack, so no wonder i felt extra heavy when carring my backpack) ... proof that humor and curiosity survive even in sweat-soaked backpacks.

The jungle offered no easy paths. At times we crawled, sometimes scrambled, and often paused just to catch our breath. But when we finally reached one of the ridgelines, the view made everything worth it—a sea of clouds gently hugging the green canopy below us, as if the forest itself was dreaming.

By nightfall, under a golden glow of torchlight, our tent stood quietly among towering trees. The jungle orchestra played in the dark—crickets, frogs, rustling leaves—all blending into a natural lullaby. Day 1 was done. Three peaks conquered. And our real adventure was only beginning.

Locked and loaded – our gear packed and ready for three intense days in the wild.

Driving into the clouds – a surreal view greeted us en route to the trailhead.

First steps into Engkilili’s raw jungle terrain – slippery, muddy, and full of surprises.

Trekking through thick fallen trees and wild vines – every meter hard-earned.

The forest reveals its secrets – a beautiful Nepenthes, nature’s insect trap

A rare sight – dozens of wild pitcher plants thriving undisturbed in the highland mossy jungle

One of the summit markers we reached – proof of altitude, grit, and sweat.

Above the clouds – pausing to take it all in from Bukit Tiang Laju’s peak

Vertical challenge – gripping roots and branches to scale our way upward.

Jungle wonders – soft, velvety foliage unlike anything we’ve seen

Bukit Tiang Laju 900m. A rare moment of clear ground – brief relief before more steep climbs

Treading cautiously – a narrow ledge against a vertical mossy wall

Forest mysteries – a dead bird, and only feathers remain. A quiet reminder of nature’s cycle

In the thick of it – one foot in front of the other through dense undergrowth

Jungle humor – even out here, a few laughs go a long way during rest stop. My kids hide their comics into my backpack, giving me some extra weight.

Documenting the journey – capturing each other in action deep in the forest.

Taking a break – rehydrating, regrouping, and preparing for the final push

Camp for the night – warm light in the heart of a cold, quiet jungle

Day 2 – Into the Heart of the Wild: Batu Burak to Bukit Buwaya and the Church of the Waterfall

After a damp and dreamy night under the thick forest canopy, I woke to the gentle hum of the jungle and the soft glow of our campsite lantern. My friends inflatable mat had kept them just high enough from the forest floor to avoid waking up in a puddle—a small but important win in jungle hiking.

As I unzipped my hammock, a heavenly scene unfolded before me. The early morning mist hung like silk between the trees, and golden beams of sunlight pierced through, spotlighting the dew-laced leaves and a series of intricate spider webs. I swear, it looked like the forest gods hired a lighting crew just for us.

Ian and Fazi stirred soon after, and we brewed our humble jungle breakfast. Hot Milo over a portable gas stove, steam rising as fast as our spirits. With our bellies warmed and boots laced up, we pushed forward—today was going to be a beast: Batu Burak (910m) and Bukit Buwaya (870m) were waiting.

The Beauty and the Bruises

The terrain didn’t ease us in gently. We scrambled up rock faces slick with moss and twisted vines, brushed past thorny shrubs, and crossed eerie forest plateaus, marked by old survey markers and forgotten border stones. Ian spotted a wild stick insect camouflaged against his hand, and I almost stepped on a curious giant mushroom that looked like it belonged in a Mario game (power-up, anyone?).

Halfway through, I noticed Ian's shoe had tragically betrayed him—there was a visible hole near the sole. “Air-conditioning,” he joked, trying to play it cool while avoiding every puddle like he was hopping lava tiles.

Fazi wasn’t spared either—her heel blister was the stuff of horror movies. And as for me, my right toe throbbed like it had a heartbeat of its own. Yet somehow, we kept climbing, laughing through the pain, pushing through the jungle symphony of buzzing bugs, rustling leaves, and distant bird calls.

Surprise Cave, Bats, and the Summit Marker Nap

At some point during a steep ascent, we stumbled upon a rocky overhang—inside, dozens of bats hung like living punctuation marks across the cave walls. We admired from a distance, not wanting to become part of the bat census.

Then came a moment I’ll never forget. After reaching a hill summit marker, I saw Ian collapsed onto the mossy ground, hugging the concrete like it was a long-lost friend. As for me, I felt that my soul temporarily left my body—caught somewhere between exhaustion and euphoria 🤣🤣🤣

Waterfalls, Drone Flights, and the Jungle Chapel

As the sun dipped toward the western ridge, we finally descended into the Kalimantan side of the forest. The reward? A thunderous, breathtaking mega waterfall, crashing down into a pristine jungle pool. It was as if the mountain saved its best secret for last.

Ian flew the drone to capture the full majesty of the fall from above. As I peeked at the drone screen, I saw the cascading waters slicing through the emerald canopy like a silver ribbon—this was wilderness cinematography at its finest.

Just beside the waterfall stood an abandoned wooden chapel, swallowed partially by vines and time. It was haunting and beautiful—half relic, half refuge. With night falling fast, we decided to camp there. Nothing beats the sound of a waterfall as your lullaby, except maybe knowing there's a roof over your tent flap.

Highlights of Day 2:

Magical sunrise rays through jungle mist
Batu Burak (910m) & Bukit Buwaya (870m) peaks conquered
Stick insects, bats, strange mushrooms, and stunning border markers
Ian’s holy shoes and Fazi’s blister saga
Epic mega waterfall discovery at Kalimantan side
Overnight stay at an abandoned jungle church

Morning camp scene – cooking breakfast over gas stove before the journey begins.

The forest awakens – mist and soft light filtering through the trees.

The golden sun rays piercing through the jungle canopy – nature's spotlight.

Fazi heading deeper into the sunlit jungle with his red pack under the golden mist.

A dew-laced spider web glistens in the morning sun – the art of nature.

Border marker stone peeking from the forest floor, half-swallowed by the earth.

Official GPS marker from Jabatan Ukur Malaysia – 2021 and still standing.

Ian finds a perfectly camouflaged stick insect blending into her hand.

Triangulation marker shelter – quiet witness to generations of explorers.

Collecting water from the stream using Sawyer filtration system.

Ian jockily collapses at the summit marker – the jungle nap of champions.

Mossy rock cave along the trail – unexpected bat territory.

Close-up: bats sleeping upside down inside the rocky overhang.

A strange fuzzy-leaved plant with tiny white jungle blooms.

Ian finds and examines a faded Indonesian flag deep in the forest.

Towering rock wall with vibrant moss and purple blossoms overhead.

Natural rock formation with strange crater-like

Steep slope scramble – team crawling up jungle

Fazi approaches another summit post, fatigue visible after long climb.

A bizarre jungle mushroom with bumpy textures and alien-like cap.

The same mushroom seen from below – straight out of a fantasy world.

Mushroom-to-hand size comparison – nature flexing its scale.

A rocky jungle stream flows peacefully through the forest.

Wilson (Me) poses with waterfall backdrop – tired but still standing.

The epic view from the top of the mega waterfall into Kalimantan.

Drone controller displaying aerial footage of the waterfall.

Rock-carved water pool above the falls – perfectly round and mysterious.

Final jungle push in the twilight with headlamps glowing red.

Arrival at the abandoned jungle church beside the waterfall – a surreal end to Day 2.

Day 3: From Abandon Chapel to Holy Mountain Exit – The Final Push

After the madness of Day 2 — scaling Bukit Buwaya, hugging mossy border markers like long-lost friends, and discovering bats, bizarre mushrooms, and our sore toes — we spent the night at one of the most unexpected shelters imaginable: an abandoned chapel in the heart of the jungle, right next to a mega waterfall on the Kalimantan side. Yep, a literal house of God, wrapped in vines and mystery.

Jungle Sanctuary (with Holy Wind)

While Ian and Fazi made a nest on the floor with their sleeping mats, I chose to rock the night away in my hammock, swinging to the lullaby of jungle wind. The breeze was surprisingly strong and comforting. It felt like nature’s version of air conditioning — minus the temperature control, of course.

At dawn, I decided to explore the chapel's surroundings. I tiptoed toward the sealed door, half-expecting Indiana Jones music to start playing. There it was — written boldly on the wooden planks:
"Dalam Nama Yesus Jangan Masuk."
(In the name of Jesus, do not enter.)

I looked at the message.
I looked at the locked door.
I looked at the message again.
And then I whispered to myself: "Copy that, Jesus."
Respectfully, I backed away and let the chapel keep its secrets.

The Never-Ending Exit

We had a hearty breakfast — and by hearty, I mean we finished every single scrap of food we had. Not out of gluttony, but out of survival strategy: lighter bags, happier backs. Then we began what I now refer to as "The Great Endless Hike."

It was hours of steep ups, sliding downs, and knee-bending zigzags. Somewhere along the trail, I began to question reality. Were we in a hiking loop? Were we ascending another secret summit? Was Ian’s shoe hole growing larger with every step? (It probably was.)

We passed through magnificent old trees, alien-like fungi, and delicate jungle flowers, each one a reminder that even when you're exhausted, Borneo's rainforest always finds a way to impress.

Civilization at Last: Engkilili!

At long last — just as my legs began submitting resignation letters — we stepped into Engkilili, Sarawak. And guess what greeted us? Another chapel — but this time, a new one being built by the local villagers. From an abandoned church to a reborn one, talk about full circle.

We were welcomed with smiles, and after sharing stories, laughs, and taking a group photo with the locals, it finally hit us — the adventure was almost over. We made it back to the foothills village, reunited with our parked cars, and began the bumpy road back to Kuching.

My cozy jungle hammock setup — nature's version of a 5-star suite.

Ian and Fazi’s sleeping mats — flat, firm, and with a chance of ants.

The mysterious chapel door. Message received, I didn’t go in.

The abandoned chapel, our unexpected shelter in the wilderness.

‘Dalam Nama Yesus Jangan Masuk’ — ok loud and clear!

Chapel exterior detail: skull on the wall, just in case you needed more reasons not to enter.

Inside the chapel’s old wood storage — no congregation, just planks.

Overgrown but still standing — the full view of our jungle refuge.

The view from behind the chapel: cloud forest in full glory.

Sea of clouds rolling across the jungle canopy — absolutely surreal.

Spotted a fiery orange fungus — huge, wild, and probably not edible.

One last selfie with a jungle giant before heading

Delicate jungle flower on the trail — soft contrast to sore feet.

We arrived in Engkilili and saw this: locals building a new church!

Warm welcome and conversations at the village church build site.

Group photo with our new friends before continuing the final stretch.

Finally reached the village house, the end of our hike.

Reflections from the Front Seat

As we drove away, dirty, sore, and proud, I couldn’t help but reflect on the past three days:

Day 1: Hopeful and energetic.
Day 2: Pushed to the brink but rewarded by nature’s wonders.
Day 3: Humbled by the jungle’s silence and blessed by a safe return.

This journey was more than just kilometers covered or peaks conquered. It was a reminder that adventure begins when comfort ends, and that sometimes, the greatest discoveries happen when you’re sore, sweaty, and surrounded by friends (and fungi).

Thank you for reading, I will catch up with you again in my next adventure, till then be safe.

Cheers,
Wilson Chin

A Simple Village Escape: Family Stream Swim Behind Our Farmhouse

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 5 Jan 2025 11:55:00 +0800

There's something truly magical about being close to nature — especially when it's just a few steps behind our own family farmhouse. 🌿

Last weekend, I decided to bring my children on a mini "adventure" — not to some faraway place, but to the clear, refreshing stream that winds through the back of our village land. Armed with just a few plastic nets, some extra clothes, and a spirit for discovery, we set off.

The air was fresh, the forest alive with the soothing sounds of water tumbling over mossy rocks. Tiny waterfalls trickled down the stones, creating little pools that were just perfect for the kids to splash around. Barefoot and giggling, they jumped from rock to rock, their nets ready to scoop up any "treasures" the stream might offer — little fish, leaves, or even a shiny pebble.

As I watched them — my daughter carefully sitting on a smooth stone, my son wading bravely across the shallow waters — I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. No fancy theme parks, no long car rides, just pure, simple joy in nature's playground.

We even spotted a beautifully camouflaged frog resting on a mossy log! Nature, always full of surprises.

At one point, under the warm dappled sunlight, we shared juicy mangosteens we had brought along. Sitting by the water, munching on fruits straight from our farm — it felt like a scene out of a storybook.

This little outing reminded me that sometimes, the best adventures are the ones closest to home. It's not about how far you travel; it's about who you’re with, and the memories you create together.

As the kids laughed and played, I could see it — this was a memory they would keep forever: the day they caught "a big fish" (even if it was just a leaf), the time they climbed mossy boulders like little explorers, the sweet taste of mangosteen under the jungle canopy.

A simple village escape. A priceless family bonding moment. A little reminder that happiness often flows like a clear stream — right outside your door. 💚

Until the next adventure,

Wilson Chin
The Borneo Explorer

A Hike to Remember (and Laugh About) Near Sarawak Border

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Wed, 25 Dec 2024 07:37:00 +0800

So, my hiking buddy Michael and I decided to tackle the KlingKang range near the Sarawak border on Christmas Day. Why? Because we're apparently gluttons for punishment and love the idea of mud being our new fashion statement. 🏞️💩

Out of nowhere, we stumbled upon a grove of durian trees. Now, if you're not familiar with durians, they're those spiky fruits that smell like heaven and taste like... well, something you'd either love or hate. And guess what? Some had fallen fresh from the trees! We looked at each other, shrugged, and dug in. Verdict? Sweet, creamy, and utterly delicious. Michael even joked that we should start a durian stand. 😂

We set off early, thinking we were all cool and prepared. Nope! The trail had other plans. Mud, glorious mud! It was like the mountain decided to give us a spa day, minus the relaxation. Every step was a gamble – will I slip or won't I? Spoiler: I slipped. Multiple times. Michael found it hilarious, of course. 😏

we continued our trek and stumbled upon something truly amazing – a mini water catchment project. This wasn't just any project; it was a community effort with the locals and an NGO to supply fresh water to a nearby village. We were blown away by the ingenuity and dedication. Plus, the stream was beautiful, like something out of a fairy tale.

Feeling adventurous, we decided to explore further upstream. The water was so clear, we could see fish darting around. It was like nature's own aquarium! We spotted all sorts of interesting flora, and I even tried to identify some (with limited success, I might add). The whole experience was so serene and beautiful, it felt like we were in a different world.

By the end of our hike, we were tired but exhilarated. The KlingKang range had tested our limits, but it also rewarded us with unforgettable experiences and laughter. If you're ever near the Sarawak border, I highly recommend this hike. Just don't forget your sense of humor and a taste for durians!

Thanks for reading, and until next time, keep exploring and laughing! 😄

Check out more adventures on my blog at wilsonchin.blogspot.com!

Exploring the Mysteries of Gua Sirih: A Caving Adventure in Sarawak

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Thu, 21 Nov 2024 10:15:00 +0800

I went on a caving trip with my brother to Gua Sirih, a cave near Serian known for its archaeological significance and as a site for bird's nest collection. This cave wasn't just any cave; it housed ancient wall paintings and artifacts buried deep within.

As we descended, a long wooden staircase maintained by the Sarawak Museum Department led us into the cave's embrace. The walls were adorned with nature's artwork—tree vines wrapping around boulders, a testament to time's passage.

The archaeological area, fenced off, revealed ancient wall paintings, depicting human and bird shapes, a silent testament to the cave's historical significance.

Turning on my headlamp, I was immediately besieged by flying bugs, a lesson learned for next time: wear a jacket with a mosquito net. The bats, however, were less intrusive, their silhouettes darting through the light, their squeaks filling the cavernous space.

The cave floor was uneven, with muddy patches where tiny streams flowed. Gloves would have been handy to avoid the muck that clung to our hands. The sight of a waterfall inside the cave was mesmerizing, the water cascading with such force, it seemed alive.

A mysterious breeze in one section, where the chamber narrowed like a bottleneck, left us puzzled. Even our guide was at a loss, adding to the cave's enigma.

Nature's art was everywhere—the stalactites, cave spiders as large as an adult's palm, and a peculiar creature resembling a scorpion but lacking its venomous tail, all contributed to the surreal experience.

As we ventured deeper, the cave's chambers grew narrower, with deep cracks that demanded careful navigation. One misstep here could lead to a fall, a stark reminder of the cave's unforgiving nature.

The water stream section, with its quick-flowing water into a narrow tunnel, marked the end of our exploration. Curiosity about where the water led was strong, but safety dictated our retreat.

Emerging from Gua Sirih, we cleaned up by a nearby stream, reflecting on the day's adventure. The cave's complexity, its hidden waterfall, and the unexplored depths left me yearning for more. Perhaps one day, equipped with the right gear, I'll return to uncover more of its secrets.

As the first light of dawn crept through the canopy, our local guide, with the wisdom of the land etched into his weathered face, led my brother and me through the lush tapestry of a sprawling plantation. Each step we took was a verse in the silent song of the wilderness, our hearts beating in rhythm with the earth, until finally, we stood at the yawning mouth of the cave, where the known world whispered secrets to the shadows within.

Gazing upon the ancient tapestry of tree vines that lovingly embraced the boulder and cascaded over the cave wall, one couldn't help but marvel at nature's patient artistry, a masterpiece sculpted over eons with a brush of time itself.

Venturing into the cave's embrace, we were enveloped by a darkness thick with humidity and the pungent aroma of guano. Yet, what truly tested my patience was the aerial ballet of flying bugs, performing an impromptu dance around my headlamp, turning my view into a swirling, insect-filled disco.

Year 1998 in Chinese writting

Amidst the subterranean symphony of trickling water, ranging from gentle whispers to more assertive gurgles, I spotted tiny shrimp darting through the streams. Recalling those Nat Geo documentaries, I mused over how these cave dwellers, often blind, navigate their world through an orchestra of alternative senses, detecting the presence of others in a dance of survival hidden from sight.

A mini pond inside the cave

After our spelunking sojourn, we emerged into the light and made our way to a nearby stream, where the cool, clear water served as our natural shower, washing away the cave's embrace and reviving us with its gentle flow.

Watch My Video Here

A Hike to the Black Pearl Pool Lang Waterfall at Bako, Sarawak, Borneo

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 6 Oct 2024 11:24:00 +0800

That morning, my brother, Yen, and I set out to hike to the Black Pear Pool. The name comes from the dark, tan hues of the water, reminiscent of a mysterious gem hidden in the heart of nature.

Just as we began our hike from the trailhead, I noticed something slithering at the edge of the trail. A black snake with striking horizontal white stripes glided silently through the underbrush, its sleek body a reminder of the wilderness surrounding us.

Our trail hugged the riverbank, where the water flowed in rich tea tones. This dark color resulted from leaves, roots, and other organic matter leaching. The natural dissolved acids—tannins and lignins—infused the water with its distinctive hue, creating a captivating contrast against the vibrant greenery surrounding us.

This is a steel cage, standing over six feet tall, enclosing a long pipe that supplies fresh water to the nearby national park. Inside the cage, I spotted remnants of tree branches, rotting leaves, and tufts of grass, evidence of nature’s slow reclamation of this industrial structure.

As we hiked deeper into the lush greenery, our adventure took a thrilling turn when we spotted another snake. This one, a striking jet black, sported a bold vertical red stripe running from head to tail, like a rebellious fashion statement in the animal kingdom. My heart raced at the sight—was it venomous? I could practically hear my instincts screaming, “Back away slowly!” So, after snapping a quick picture worthy of a nature documentary, I carefully retreated, leaving the serpent to its sunbathing. After all, some encounters are best appreciated from a safe distance!

The scenery before me was nothing short of breathtaking. The tan tea-colored water flowed slowly, so gently that it seemed almost still, creating a perfect mirror for the stunning landscape. The reflection of vibrant trees, lush grass, and the expansive sky danced upon the surface, turning the scene into a living painting.

I will use this as my laptop wallpaper.

After a few kilometers of hiking, we finally reached the waterfall, where the water cascaded into a sizable pool below. The tea-colored water was so murky that we could barely see the bottom of the creek, adding an air of mystery to the scene. Yet, our fearless guide, undeterred by the unknown, dove right in! As I watched him splash about, I couldn't help but admire the breathtaking beauty surrounding us. The entire geological formation felt like a masterpiece crafted by nature herself, a stunning testament to the artistry of the great outdoors

Family Adventure: Camping Trip at Nanga Tiga Atas, Batang Ai, Sarawak

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sat, 31 Aug 2024 20:58:00 +0800

I went for a camping trip with friends at Nanga Tiga Atas, Batang Ai, Sarawak. This round I bring my boy Gareth with me. And I also get to meetup with my old comrade again, Ah Loong and Gilbert who we always go for hiking adventures back in the old days.

With the sun beaming down on us in the wide-open space, we're all set to soak up plenty of golden rays. My boy can't wait to dive into the cool, inviting waters, but as for me? I'm all about finding that perfect spot under the shade, kicking back with an ice-cold beer in hand, and just letting the day drift by. It's pure bliss at Nanga Tiga

The breeze was relentless, turning the simple task of setting up my flysheet into a bit of a challenge. Every time I grabbed one end, the other would dance and flip in the wind, refusing to stay put. But after a bit of a tussle with the elements, I finally got the flysheet secured, followed by the tent. With my shade now in place, I could finally kick back, relax, and wait for the sunset—then it’s off for a refreshing swim with my boy.

As much as I wanted to wait for the perfect sunset moment to take a dip, my boy just couldn’t hold back his excitement any longer. He kept bugging me with that eager grin, practically dragging me to the water. “Alright, alright, let’s go, buddy!” And with that, we were off for our swim.

Playing kite with my boy

He is hungry, time to cook dinner, camping style.

Dusk was settling in quickly, and the sky had finally cooled down. My friends began preparing their dinners, each working on their own tasty creations. As for me, I had a delicious spread lined up—barbecue chicken, bamboo chicken, and rice. Dinner was about to get seriously good.

PaPa love you my boy 😘

Adventure in the Wild: Camping, Caves, and Culinary Delights in Klingkang Ran, Borneo

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sat, 22 Jun 2024 12:07:00 +0800

I went to Sri Aman area to explore a waterfall inside a cave, we start off our hike from an abandon farm. Two of my friends and my brother are carrying backpacks, hiking in front. The trail is lined with tall grasses, ferns, and various types of trees and shrubs. The sky is overcast, it was a cloudy day that day.

The my friend and brother are in the midst of a challenging hike, making their way up a slope. The forest around them is thick and alive, with a variety of plants and trees creating a dense canopy.

We descended deeper into the wilderness, where the forest seemed to hold its breath, guiding us toward a hidden marvel.

Our journey led us to a narrow entrance, barely visible through the dense undergrowth. It was the mouth of a cave, shrouded in shadows and mystery. Inside, we could hear the distant echo of water, calling us forward. With each step, the sound grew louder, more compelling...

Not long after, we were greeted by a breathtaking sight—a waterfall cascading from a hole high in the cave's ceiling, where a stream from the outside world had found its way through the rock. The water tumbled down in a silvery curtain, splashing into a clear, inviting pool below. It was a moment of pure awe, witnessing such a natural wonder hidden deep within the earth.

Without hesitation, our friends stripped off their shirts and plunged into the cozy waters, their laughter echoing off the cave walls. They swam under the waterfall, letting the cool, refreshing water wash over them as they played and splashed around, fully immersed in the joy of the moment. The cave, with its secret waterfall, became our own private oasis, a place where we could truly appreciate the beauty and wonder of nature.

To our surprise, we noticed a group of bats clinging to the ceiling of the cave. They were small, delicate creatures, huddled closely together in tight clusters. It was as if they were sharing each other's warmth, creating a living blanket of tiny bodies, perfectly adapted to the cave’s cool, dark environment.

Their presence added an unexpected layer of enchantment to the experience, a reminder of the hidden life that thrives in these secluded spaces. Watching them, I couldn’t help but wonder at their quiet, communal existence, so different from our own, yet perfectly in harmony with the mysterious world they called home.

This was our campsite, a peaceful haven nestled in the wilderness where we spent the night under the stars. As evening fell, our guide worked his magic, preparing a feast that perfectly captured the spirit of the jungle. He cooked bamboo chicken and rice over the open fire, the aroma filling the air and making our mouths water. To our delight, he also prepared fresh shrimp, caught just hours earlier from the nearby stream—a true taste of the wild.

But the most unexpected catch was a frog. I secretly hoped they would spare its life and return it to the forest, letting it continue its journey in the natural world. After all, that tiny creature was a part of the ecosystem we had come to admire and respect.

See you in my next adventure.

Conquering the Climb, Not the Plateau: A Day at Jamo Falls

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 26 May 2024 08:43:00 +0800

11th April, 6.02pm. My friend and I departed from Kuching at 4am and reached Dapoi, Ulu Tinjau Baram after driving for more than 13 hours.

11th April, 6.17pm. We can see Jamo waterfall in front of us. We plan to hike up to Jamo waterfall and hike along the plateau to reach the other end to explore that area.

11th April, 8.07pm. To our surprise, a homestay is just near the waterfall, run by a Chinese named Mr. Wong from Miri. He offers us to stay at the homestay. Our initial plan was to go camping.

12th April, 2.59am. I woke up to go to the bathroom, and notice the night sky, and the Milky Way, could be seen by naked eyes.

12th April, 3.04am. The temperature also drops to around 21 degrees Celsius. A good temperature to sleep, I just snug into my sleeping bag and go to sleep again in at hammock.

12th April. 4.14am. I can't fall back to sleep again. So I told myself, not every day I can see Milky Way in the night sky, so I got up and took more photos on the mikly way.

12 April, 6.09am. The Dapoi river next to the homestay and the Jamo waterfall.

12 April. 6.11am. The sea of clouds on top of the mountain.

12 April. 6.15am. Jamo waterfall is seen from above. And opposite this plateau is the Usun Apau National Park.

12 April. 6.19am. The trailhead of Jamo waterfall is just in front. Sunlight, a celestial spotlight, painted the mountain in a warm glow. Wisps of mist danced across its surface, lending it an air of mystery

12th April. 7.15am. The signboard says that this Jamo waterfall is under the community Kampung Apau Nyaring, Kampung Long Liaw, Kampung Long Kerong, Kampung Long Buken, Kampung Long Lobang, and also Kampung Long Sengong watch. So whoever wish to enter the waterfall area, need to obtain permission from either one of these Kampung first.

12th April. 7.34am. Fifteen minutes in, and it's been nothing but uphill. My valiant attempt at a six-pack seems to be hiding under a layer of determination (and maybe a donut or two). My breath sounds suspiciously like a wheezing accordion, and a rogue pebble has declared war on my pinky toe. Still, gotta channel that inner mountain goat and reach that waterfall... eventually.

aching

12th April. 8am. We conquered the base of Jamo Falls! The 80-meter cascade tumbled down serenely, a gentle giant whispering secrets to the rocks below. No time to linger, though. Our map whispered tales of another waterfall hidden in a valley on the far side of the plateau. Adventure beckoned, and our weary legs, fueled by wanderlust (and maybe a hint of waterfall envy), obeyed.

12th April, 9.20am. The climb intensified. The higher we ascended, the steeper the path became. Some sections resembled near-vertical walls, demanding a cautious hand on any sturdy root or plant life that could offer a lifeline. One misstep here could mean a nasty tumble. We pressed on, each handhold a testament to our determination (and a silent prayer for the occasional handrail!).

12th April. 9.49am. We finally reached the source! A gushing stream, the very lifeblood of Jamo Falls, snaked its way across our path. Relief washed over me – we'd made it safely, and what a journey it had been! Exhaustion gnawed at my muscles, a delightful ache earned by the breathtaking beauty surrounding us. This, I thought, is a sign. Time to trade donut-fueled hikes for a life brimming with healthy eats and active adventures.

12th April. 10am. Casually dangling my legs off the edge of this waterfall (like a total badass in the photo, at least). Don't let the picture fool you - my insides are doing a synchronized swimming routine of pure terror. But hey, gotta conquer those fears, one death-defying pose at a time, right?

12th April, 10.06am. The homestay can be seen from the top of the waterfall.

12th April, 11.11am.We pressed onward, the plateau beckoning us to explore its hidden secrets. A shady haven by a gurgling stream offered a welcome respite. Here, we paused to recharge, the cool water whispering tales of the valley ahead.

12th April. 11.20am. A splash of color caught my eye along the streambank. There, nestled beneath the crystal-clear water, thrived a vibrant plant. Its petals, a spectrum of reddish-pink, swayed gently in the current. It's amazing how nature finds a way to flourish in even the most unexpected places.

12 April, 1.02pm. Nature unveiled another wonder along the stream – a series of natural potholes resembling jacuzzis! One of my adventurous friends couldn't resist taking a dip in this geologically-crafted hot tub. It boggles the mind to imagine how long nature took to sculpt these marvels.

12th April. 1.23pm. Our hike followed the stream, punctuated by dramatic drops that tumbled into cascading waterfalls. This particular one was a showstopper – wide, powerful, and several meters tall. Sunlight speared through the sky, illuminating the cascading water. As it crashed at the base, a plume of mist erupted, catching the sun's rays and exploding into a vibrant rainbow. A perfect confluence of nature's elements, right before our eyes!

12th April. 2.08pm. The photo captures the majesty of the waterfall in all its three-tiered glory. The second tier reigns supreme, cascading down into a sizeable pool before gracefully continuing its descent. This spot whispered "camping paradise" to me. Easy access? Probably not. Daily visits? Now that's a dream worth chasing!

12th April. 2.30pm. The final waterfall guarded its beauty fiercely. Tucked away in a basin, access demanded a baptism by the rushing current. Determined to capture the moment (and maybe a little phone-obsessed), I clung to my phone with one hand while doggy-paddling with the other. It wasn't exactly graceful, and a mini-panic attack ensued when I nearly went under (hello, water resistance!). Thankfully, a quick reality check and a switch to two-handed swimming propelled me towards the base. And there it was, a breathtaking reward for my slightly soggy adventure!

12th April. 3.53pm. While we didn't conquer the entire plateau, the day unfolded perfectly. We delved into the heart of the stream, the very source that feeds the mighty Jamo Falls. Exhausted but exhilarated, it was time to retrace our steps, our hearts brimming with memories and legs yearning for a well-deserved rest.

Exploring Bung Sa'a: A Hike Through History and Nature

noreply@blogger.com (Wilson Chin) — Sun, 19 May 2024 11:15:00 +0800

I went for a hike with my brother and friends. The trail offered not only a great viewpoint but also some historical artifacts—two bunkers built during the Japanese occupation era, which was really interesting. On a previous hike to Bau, we also discovered something historical, which you can read about on my blog here.

I haven't been hiking regularly and have gained some weight, so I hope I can keep up with the group.

Very muddy trail

This is a Japanese bunker, cylindrical in shape, with windows on each side. I’m guessing the windows were likely used to set up machine guns. It’s visible from the outside and not hidden underground.

This is the second bunker, and it’s completely covered by trees and vegetation. It has two chambers, built with bricks. Inside, it’s damp and wet, with fungus growing on the brick walls and tiny roots covering the ground. Surprisingly, it hasn’t collapsed.

The summit viewpoint of Bung Sa'a stands at 389 meters above sea level. The final stretch was really tough—I felt exhausted and out of breath when I reached the summit. Could it be that I’m getting old?

After descending from the summit viewpoint, we encountered a large wall. At the edge of the cliff, we saw a group of bats hanging from the ceiling of the wall.

The fungus grows from the rotting tree bark, and if you imagine five of them together, they look like fingers emerging from the ground—spooky!

To return to the starting point, we’ll need to cross this river. The trail forms a large loop. The water level reaches up to my knee, and while the current is somewhat strong, it’s manageable. We just need to cross slowly to avoid being swept away by the current.

The villagers told me that a man had committed suicide in an abandoned house, and ever since, it has remained deserted.

Watch my video here

I AM THE BORNEO EXPLORER 婆罗洲探险

The Eye of the Jungle: Trekking Deep into Sarawak’s Hidden Wilderness

The Forest Floor & The Falling Giants

Discovering the Stone Portal

The Explorer's Reward

The Forgotten Sanctuary: A Monday Morning Trek Up Bung Mako

Into the Overgrowth

The Chapel in the Woods

Rewards of the Summit

Rising Above the Mist: Scaling the Vertical Wall of Bung Tramouk, Stass Nature Heritage Park

Into the Emerald Canopy

The Anatomy of the Climb: By the Numbers

Breaking Through to the Sky

Above the Sea of Clouds: A Cinematic 4AM Journey to Tajur Rambung

The Kingdom of Clouds

The Descent into Light

Chasing Waterfalls in Sarawak: The Raw Beauty of Wong Engkarah

Exploring Sungai Baban: A Blackwater Exploration of the Bengoh Range

Following the Amber Vein

Padawan Mount Danie — An Exploration Through Caves, Cliffs, and Chaos

A Family Getaway to Adis Buan Stream

Hiking Exploration to Libuan Tukom Waterfall

Hiking Bukit Tama, Serian – A Father & Son Adventure

Poshi Cave Exploration (Gua Posih) , Sarawak Delta Geopark

Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island - Accomodation - Sandflies - Post 4 of 4

🏝️ Our Stay at Satang Besar Island – Simple, Rustic & Heartwarming

🚢The Boat to go to Satand Besar Island

🦟 Sandfly Attack at the Beach – They Loved Me Too Much!

Day 1Day 2Day 3💊 What Helped Me:

📝 My Advice:

🔖Read the Full Stoy here 🌐

Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island Day 3 - Post 3 of 4

🌊 Day 3: Farewell to Satang — A Scenic Send-Off by Sea and Sky

🚤 Bonus Adventure: A Boat Ride Around Satang Besar Island

🐦 Nature’s Finale at Tokong Ara — The Bird Island

💬 Reflections on the Final Day

🔖Read the Full Stoy here 🌐

Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island Day 2 - Post 2 of 4

🐢 Day 2 – Guardians of the Island: A Day with Turtles, Tidepools & Tenacity

🏝️ Tidepool Explorers and Saltwater Splashes

♻️ Little Hands, Big Impact: Beach Cleanup Mission

🦎 Afternoon Calm, Island Quiet

🌙 Nightfall with Heroes in Headlamps

📝 Reflection

🔖Read the Full Stoy here 🌐

Protecting Paradise: Our Family’s Turtle-Friendly Trip to Satang Besar Island Day 1 - Post 1 of 4

🐢 Day 1: Our Wild Welcome to Satang Besar — Sand, Sea, and Surprise Turtles

🚤 From Jetty to Jungle Paradise

🛖 Rustic Charm, Island-Style

🐢 Hands-On with Baby Turtles

🪁 Kites, Clear Water & Collected Showers

🌙 Night Patrol: Mission Turtle

🦟 Honorable Mention: The Sandflies

🔖Read the Full Stoy here 🌐

Mysterious Valley Hike – Sarawak’s Untouched Wilderness

We Got Lost in a Hidden Valley — and Nature Showed Off Hard

🧭 Final Thought:

Sleeping Under Stars, Hiking Over Borders – Our 3D2N Hike From Sarawak Peaks to Kalimantan Falls

Day 1: Into the Wild – The Trans Engkilili Begins

Day 2 – Into the Heart of the Wild: Batu Burak to Bukit Buwaya and the Church of the Waterfall

The Beauty and the Bruises

Surprise Cave, Bats, and the Summit Marker Nap

Waterfalls, Drone Flights, and the Jungle Chapel

Highlights of Day 2:

Day 3: From Abandon Chapel to Holy Mountain Exit – The Final Push

Jungle Sanctuary (with Holy Wind)

The Never-Ending Exit

Civilization at Last: Engkilili!

Reflections from the Front Seat

A Simple Village Escape: Family Stream Swim Behind Our Farmhouse

A Hike to Remember (and Laugh About) Near Sarawak Border

Exploring the Mysteries of Gua Sirih: A Caving Adventure in Sarawak

A Hike to the Black Pearl Pool Lang Waterfall at Bako, Sarawak, Borneo

Family Adventure: Camping Trip at Nanga Tiga Atas, Batang Ai, Sarawak

Adventure in the Wild: Camping, Caves, and Culinary Delights in Klingkang Ran, Borneo

Conquering the Climb, Not the Plateau: A Day at Jamo Falls

Exploring Bung Sa'a: A Hike Through History and Nature

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

💊 What Helped Me: