Yeong and I wait nearly 4 hours for our bus - we're still 'deciding' where to go while the conductor is asking for our fare. It's an Aussie guy called John who helps us out - he's only just turned up for the bus and had to make a run for it. I say lucky sod accept he leaves one of his bags behind on the pavement. John has the strangest accent i have ever heard, he's spent a long time in Japan and has done a lot of travelling. It makes me wonder how much my accent has changed. Over the next few hours we swap stories and the 3 of us decide to share a room at the lodge near Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre. Food and drinks are in order before we retire - it's been a long day.
It's also a long night for me. For maybe the first time while travelling I'm ill with something that's not a cold. I need to keep going to the toilet - whether it's the exerts of the last couple of days or the chicken burger i thought i was treating myself with, I'm not sure. I decide to part company with John and Yeong - a short trinity, I'm just not up to it.
I'm a little disappointed with the centre, it shuts between 11.30am and 2pm, has feeding times of 10am and 3pm and doesn't allow much time to walk any of the trails through the park. The walks would give you a good chance of seeing orangutans in the wild. I'm not spending another night here so it's a quick trek though the jungle - with no luck in seeing any apes, and a photo session at feeding time. It's full of very noisy tourists but is still a delight. There are babies, several females and a huge dominant male who is great to see. OK, so this isn't quite the wild, but a protected, controlled one...it's better than not seeing them though.
I was going to get the bus to Sandakan, but a taxi already going there entices m with a cheap fare. The passenger is a business man who's taken a week long extension from his meetings in Singapore. It's a strange reminder for me of another lifestyle, outside of backpacking - one that i used to know.
I can't say there is anything great about Sandakan, it's a yukky little town if I'm honest. It's home to a memorial park to POW's who dies on a horrific death march (a story worth reading about), and to several tour agencies - regrettably i need to book a package tour. I don't need to hear the calls to prayer at 04:30 in the morning though. It's like the guy is standing at the bottom of my bed with a loud hailer. There's no ignoring it - you WILL be a good Muslim and you WILL come to prayer.
Lack of sleep and not being completely well mean i spend 2 nights in Sandakan. This isn't recommended. I am very thankful for books, TV and beer (even though I'm ill!) - i miss my music :( Strangely i feel well enough to visit the delightful hose of Agnes Keith (an author who wrote about life in Sabah and during the war - she coined the phrase land below the wind). It's here i have clotted cream scones with earl grey tea, while watching a game of croquet. How delightfully English...perhaps Sandakan is not so bad after all.
