bintulu and miri

On Tuesday morning I caught a Biaramas bus north to Bintulu. It turned out to be a comfortable eleven hour journey up Sarawak's main (and only) trunk road. I saw more longhouses along the way than you've had hot dinners. The majority were modern constructions, and not very pretty - most looked like battery chicken sheds with fifty front doors. One or two were incredibly long. I enjoyed my day, sitting quietly in seat number fifteen watching the world go by. We stopped twice at some small roadside stalls selling cheap and delicious local food. I filled up on Malay rice dishes twice.

I shared a room at the Capital Inn in Bintulu last night with a middle aged American man called Eric. I met him at the bus station (he had come south from Brunei) and we shared a taxi into the city centre. He was an interesting guy to spend a few hours with. He used to be a university lecturer in America, until he emigrated to New Zealand about five years ago, and became a citizen. He now teaches Korean people to speak English (to tide him over money wise). He is making a trip around Asia before he is, in his words, too old, and like Rose Nylund in 'The Golden Girls' Eric hails from Minnesota and is of Scandinavian stock. It looked rather odd when the two of us walked into the hotel together and asked for a double room. I almost said, 'you know we're not... and anyway I'm not... I mean we're just sharing a room to save... you don't think... and anyway I don't even know the guy... no that sounds bad what I mean is...' Rather than tie myself up in hopeless knots I just said nothing and decided I couldn't give a toss what the receptionist thought about the nature of our relationship, curious age difference, or my sexual orientation. It gets hard to care about such things after eleven hours on a bus across Borneo. The Capital Inn was pretty awful as Inns go. I'd only recommend that you stay if you're desperate. The receptionist handed Eric a room key and said, 'make sure you lock your window tonight or people will try to climb in. Ha ha ha ha!' Couldn't decide whether the comment was in jest or serious. Locked the window just in case.

After breakfast this morning I said goodbye to Eric and caught another bus up to Miri. I arrived here just after lunchtime. Miri, like Bintulu, is quite a large place with a few high rises, and a bustling town centre. Logging is a big local industry unfortunately, and many residents are busily occupied nine to five in the business of chopping local rainforest down. There are lots of modern Malay shops and buildings in the city centre, and a Chinese area, which is where I am staying (at the Thai Foh Inn). 'It's a very simple room,' the owner told me as he showed me a single. His tone was suggestive that this was a good thing. Again I wanted to open my mouth, 'in England we would describe this as a shithole rather than simple,' but kept it shut and took the room with a nod and a frustrated smile. It's inexpensive, central, opposite the bus station (which I need to go to tomorrow morning), and I'm only staying for a night. Can't find better unless I'm willing to spend more ringgit, which today it so happens I'm not.

Just been over to the bank (Maybank) and got some Brunei dollars out ready for tomorrow. On the front of each of the notes is the image of Kebawah Duli Yang Maha Mulia Paduka Seri Baginda Sultan Haji Hassanal Bolkiah Al-Mu'izzaddin Waddaulah ibni Almarhum Sultan Omar Ali Saifuddien Sa'adul Khairi Waddien. He is sometimes known more briefly, for short, as the Sultan of Brunei. Tomorrow I'll be in his tax free Muslim kingdom. Looking forward to that.