Bako National Park - One of the few national parks on this earth where you can can find fried rice.

I'm on smoko, so leave me alone.

I recently spent three nights in Bako National Park, Sarawak, Borneo.
Some would say too many nights.

Leaving the hostel I had called home for almost a week, I caught a 'Grab' ride over to the Kuching bus station, which is really a a collection of about five streets close to one another which the busses stop at.

Standing beside the bus docking lane I stood there at 10:54am like a Japanese person, wondering where the fuck this bus and slowly coming to grips with the fact that maybe the busses in Sarawak don't actually follow a schedule.

When this happens the best thing to do is go sit in the shade and forget about the possibility of getting somewhere at a specific time. Taking a good spot with a view of the road, I ordered a plastic bag of cold Milo and sipped away, practising the art of street surveillance, aka sitting on a plastic chair doing jack shit.

A bus rolled into the docking lane at 11:40am.
"The bus departs at 12:30" says the driver.

When your only alternative means of getting to the park is x15 the price of a bus ticket, none of this really bothers you and you're just grateful the bus actually exists and has air conditioning.

 Bako National Park is only accessible by sea. There are no roads leading in, nor aircraft landing facilities.  I soon found myself on a small motorised fishing boat hooning across the South China sea with no life Jacket.

Passing by stilt houses en-route to Bako

When the tide is low, you get to experience a General MacArthur style beach landing. I recommend it; it's romantic as fuck.

Bako is renowned for it's wildlife and unique wildlife at that.  Bearded pigs, macaques, proboscis monkeys, (I never saw them unfortunately) frogs, and all manner of insects and bugs. The macaques usually end up as the unwanted star of the show as they have a strong tendency to steal things from people - like half my food on the first day. It was then that I realised the significance of the sling shot and the faux ape head (sans body) lying on the cashiers desk in the cafeteria.

92% Carbohydrates.

Aside from this, Bako is not so commonly known for its on-site Nasi Campur style cafeteria complete with New Zealand-style drinks (in that they're overpriced) as well as hostel toilets which make you want to take a shit in the jungle. (On a side note, I was told recently that when one takes a shit in the jungle, it basically disappears within hours, but I'll save that for a more appropriate time).

On around the third day I figured I had done enough jungle hiking for the week and decided to spend two hours smashing out a quick trail before retiring for an early lunch and chilling on the porch reading a book.

For the rest of the third day and a big chunk of the fourth, I felt like I had finally become a permanent resident of the park, destined to live out my new identity as perhaps not the whitest porch monkey in Borneo but definitely one of the most dedicated.




I would be sitting out there for hours waiting for the designated feeding times for humans in which I would go up to the cafeteria to get my fix of the many different variations of rice and chicken and occasionally an overpriced can of Pepsi.

I began noticing the schedules of the park activities. The majority of the visitors - day visitors - would arrive in the morning shortly after 8am and then leave sometime before 3pm as the last of the boats departed the park. From my spot you could see the park rangers with half a dozen curious visitors trailing behind. They would go out from the visitor centre, down the boardwalk and along the path alongside the hostel hut porch. They would all be dressed up, ready for some serious trekking and nature photography and in contrast I'd be sitting up there on a plastic chair wearing a pair of shorts, bare chested, reading a book whilst slowly becoming greasier by the hour and thinking about how good a pack of ciggies would be about now.

I sat out here staring at the tress quite a bit

During my last days I found myself alone. All my friends from Kuching had come and gone while I had remained behind to hold the fort. It was like being in a retirement home and having all your friends die while you somehow manage to live on long enough to see an entirely new batch of greenhorn 70 year olds move in looking like they were born yesterday. I would sit there at lunchtime and be like 'ahh remember the time when I used to eat food with other people... and now all I can do is stare off into the beachfront as I eat my food like a classy gentleman'.

On the last day I was able to leave 30 minutes earlier than scheduled after tagging along with some students which also led onto getting a private van ride back to Kuching. The van was great as it didn't have seat belts which I assume is to make it easier to escape the vehicle in the event of a crash.

All an all it was a great experience. I had some great chats, met even more Dutch people, but I didn't get to witness a member of a the party get dragged away by crocodiles or huge apes during the night walk which was a little disappointing. No I did not sit around on the porch on a plastic chair the entire time as much as it sounds.

Here's a photo of Chinese people. Try think of a better caption.

Minecraft character summoning ceremony, Kuching, Sarawak.