Day 10 - Borneo Rainforest Lodge

As ever it was a 6.30 start when we met up with Vivien for our pre-breakfast trek. We were back in a personal guide situation that we were comfortable with. We strolled down the road getting to know each other, when Vivien’s radio crackled that a orang-utan had been spotted about 400 metres in front. We quickened our pace and caught up with 3 or 4 other groups looking up into the trees. Simon and Monica were amongst them and they had had the merest of sighting. Various people explained exactly where the orang was nested but I could not see it. The rangers decided to hack a path towards the tree where is was nested. Eventually following the Rangers in was quite exciting as we fought our way in being helped and helping others in the process. When we got into position we probably only climbed 50 metres into the jungle, but it seemed like a mile. As the Rangers stood under the tree we were all told to keep a distance as should the orang come down the tree we would have to make a quick exit, something that wasn’t entirely feasible.

To disturb the orang from its nest a couple of the Rangers began to knock the base of its tree. I have to say this was not to my liking and Ann found the practice unacceptable. After what seemed too long a time the nest showed some sign of movement. Then continued to whack the tree and when the radios told that gibbons were on the road Ann (and Simon) had had enough of this and opted to return. Monica and myself held on and were eventually rewarded (in the very loosest phrase) with a sighting of the largest of the orangs we saw on the entire trip as he swung away from his agitators. It did seem justice when the animal decided his form of retribution would be to urinate down on those below. Good on him, but there again I was out of range. I would have loved to have filmed that final act of defiance but both hands had been needed to get into position.

What had happened is a balance between and intrusion of the animals lives and the desire of the public to watch them. As said, Ann and Simon found it distasteful and backed off, Monica stayed and got her first sighting of her holiday. Perhaps Ann and Simon have the moral high ground, but I would argue that our money is helping to protect these areas of rainforest from the logging companies and whilst our orang was intruded upon he was able to swing away safely into the vastness of the area without threat from poachers or loggers at the price of a new nest of which they build four a day.

Back on the roadside we were still in time to watch the gibbons are literally hurtled among the trees with stunning agility. It was back to juat Vivien and ourselves when we watched a group of otters cross the road into a narrow ditch of running water. We were making our way towards the canopy walk that spans the Danum River, 273 metres long and 40 metres above the water. For those that are challenged by height it would be daunting, especially climbing down the 90 degree ladders from one canopy to another, but as you slightly wobble your way across the view is awesome. Ann spotted a deer that appeared to be people watching and the canopy was a great video opportunity.


By the time we got back to the lodge and breakfast the rights and wrongs of the orang situations could be put to one side as we had spent a most enjoyable first trek.

Our after-breakfast trek was mostly about reaching a viewing point rather than spotting any animals along the way as the 1.23 km climb is too high for most primates. A lack of any preparation in terms of fitness came home to roost on this climb. By the half-way point the legs were beginning to tighten. The trail has some steps of a sort and some points there are ropes to hold onto. Borneo’s ever-present rain makes the trail muddy and slippery. On the way up we surveyed fascinating millipedes and centipedes and something like a giant woodlice that curled into a ball when you touched it.

By three-quarters distance we were like a couple of kids in the back seats of a car on a journey, “are we there yet”? I swear Vivien told us it was another 100 metres three times. His last 100m looked virtually vertical and we felt every inch of it. But as we finally clambered onto the viewing point a magnificent panoramic view of the lodge and the rainforest was spread beneath us. The prize had been worth the effort.


Just below the peak is a 300 year old burial site where a tribal leader had been placed in a ironwood coffin. His remains have long since been devoured by the passage of time, but the shape of the coffin is remarkably intact. On a ledge below were placed the bodies of a couple of children and here somewhat eerily, a skull bone and jaw with three or four teeth can be seen. Climbing away from the site we saw a small nest with some gecko eggs like little mint imperials.

We hoped that the way down would be easier, it is but it pulls on a different set of muscles. Towards the bottom is a waterfall and natural pool. It is a refreshing dip after the toils of the trek. The downside is getting the walking gear off. It was here a leech got into my boot and putting my barefoot into it to walk away from the water’s edge I got my first leech attachment. Vivien just flicked it away, it drew a little blood and stung for a couple of minutes. We had the leech socks and everywhere else they did the job although later on I managed to pick up another one on the hand.


Back at the Lodge, lunch had been well-earned, but the sitting meant that the muscles were quickly tightening.

The afternoon trek was the Hornbill trail. The previous days’ trek had been cancelled as a storm rolled in and today the weather threatened similar. After a brief but heavy shower Vivien decided it was OK to go. Some of the limbs didn’t feel much like it, but at least the spirit was willing.

On the Kinabatagan river we had seen several hornbills flying overhead, how Joanne identified a rhinoserous from a crested looking upwards is beyond me, but we had seen none in a sedentary position for a camera shot. Vivien heard the calls from the birds and responded with his own. Despite several attempts and much craning of the neck we never really got a clear view of the birds. The sound of their wings as they take flight is something I will remember though.

It started to rain as we emerged from the trail. As it had been dry when we left the lodge and our raincoats got extremely hot in the humid conditions we had elected to leave them behind. Within seconds the rain turned torrential with the occasional crack of thunder lending atmosphere.

We sheltered under a wooden cover to the entrance of another trail in the hope that the rain would ease to a mere downpour. Simon and Monica emerged from their trail with their guide, Raphael, who apparently gets nervous of falling trees in the forest in these conditions. We all squeezed together on the bench as the rain went from bad to worse.

After a few minutes the two guides felt that as long as we (Monica and Simon were suitably attired) were prepared to make our way in our t-shirts we might as well go for it. As Ann and myself were already soaked we had nothing to lose. Once you are wet through to your underpants it can get no worse, in fairness Vivien had offered Ann his gagule, but we declined and the took our bag with the cameras to protect them from the deluge.

The guides set a fair pace and were a few yards in front when Raphael turned and came back to us. What we are about to show you is very special, he said. As we went forward a few paces he pointed at what appeared to be a leaf in the road. This is a Malaysian wind-up, me thinks. But as we got within a couple of yards we could see it was a large frog. It was, we were told, a Bornean Horned Frog. I’m not going to attempt to describe it and will let the photograph do the talking.

The frog made no attempt to hop to safety as Raphael tenderly picked it up. He wanted to take it back to the Lodge to show his colleagues. Back at the Lodge there was genuine excitement as staff took pictures with their camera phones and the big boss himself was summoned to see the creature that he hadn’t seen in his six months in the job. After everybody had had a look the frog was taken, with the four of us as witnesses, back to a trail where it was rested in a bed of leaves. An hour later, Vivien returned and the frog had gone, probably making its way back up the road!!

Of course , there are always the cynical and when we related the event to an American couple at dinner, the guy exclaimed “He got it outta his pocket”. Ah, well there’s always one.

After dinner, a gentle walk was promised by Vivien and our tired limbs could not take much more. Our guide flashed the spotlight to and fro and we did so less effectively with our torches. We spotted nocturnal favourites such as a bat hanging right in front of our noses, lizards, frogs, pill snakes. Vivien knew that barring a pair of eyes of the Leopard Cat we had yet to see any cats. As we approached the Lodge we circled the staff quarters and under one of the cabins his searchlight picked out a Common Civet Cat, it might have been common to him, it wasn’t to us. It was quite a large cat that backed away to the other side of the building as the spotlight picked it out. We attempted to get her to turn and face us so we could see its face with cries of “din dins”, well it works with our cats. Vivien said that a call of mun-muns might be more appropriate and we did get a glimpse of its features before it disappeared. Back at the Lodge we had a second chance to see the resident Bearded Pig grubbing for scraps at the rear of the kitchen. He obviously finds plenty as he was a big old boy.



It was very tired legs that hit the bed that night and with no six o’clock call we looked forward to a lie in and leisurely breakfast. We hadn’t seen as much in the Danum Valley as at Sukau but it was a quite different experience. On the river, in effect, you sat on the boat and if the sightings were too come, they came to you. At Danum you were truly hunting every last one and this made it all the more satisfying.