All your questions answered
Posted by: starqueen79 on: November 6, 2009
I’m sure I’ve mentioned Singapore’s rich religious tapestry in previous blogs. But I learnt something very interesting today about a particular Chinese temple and the worship rites performed.
Kwan Im Thong Hoo
d Cho Temple, is a beautifully ornate Buddhist temple, located on Waterloo Street, just around the corner from where I study. It’s one of the older temple sites in the city, built 125 years ago in 1884, although it was completely rebuilt in the 1980s. It is said to bestow good luck on all its worshippers, and I heard that the temple itself had an extremely lucky escape during WWII, when a Japanese bomb landed, but never exploded, although damage was caused to surrounding buildings. The temple is dedicated to the goddess of mercy, Kuan Yin and hundreds of people flock here to offer prayers and ask for blessings. Legend has it that just as she was about to enter Nirvana, Kuan Yin heard a plaintive cry from earth and her compassion compelled her to return and help alleviate the suffering of the world.
Most notably, the goddess is supposed to be able to answer the questions of her devotees. They enter the temple bare-footed and take a handful of bamboo sticks with writing on. These are divining sticks called ”qian”, which are placed in a brass cannister and shaken whilst you recite your question. Eventually a stick will fall from the can. This stick has been chosen by the goddess to provide you with your answer. The most auspicious days to perform this ritual are during Chinese New Year, when people flock to the temple in order to start the new year with good fortune. To recieve your answer, you must hand the stick back to the counter at the entrance where you’ll be handed a slip of paper corresponding to your stick. For English speakers, there is a handy reference book you can consult for a comprehensive response.
Just feet away from the Kwan Im temple, is the Hindu temple of Sri Krishnan. Interestingly, and perhaps due to its proximity, many Chinese come here to light inc
ense and pray so the temple has since built its own altar to Kuan Yin, who sits alongside a the Hindu god Krishna. This is such a prime example of how harmoniously the different religious persuasions in Singapore co-exist. A lot of the world could learn a much needed lesson from spending some time here…
A walk less ordinary
Posted by: starqueen79 on: November 6, 2009
It struck me as I was making my way to college yesterday, just how interesting and so completely different to anything you’d experience in the UK my daily walk to class is. The sights and sounds that buzz around me during my ten minute stroll have become so commonplace, I’ve begun to think of it as just normal life, which must speak volumes for how settled I am feeling here now.
As I leave the MRT (underground) station at Bugis, I walk through Singapore’s largest market-stall shopping area, which is full of vendors selling everything from clothing to crazy chinese children’s toys, to sex aids! Passing from the undercover part into the open air, your nostrils are assaulted by the pungent smell of durian and other exotic fruits being hawked by the side of the road. Next I walk by the the tri-shaw depot, where a wizened old Chinese guy tries to get me to take a ride in one of the three-wheeled rickshaws that are such a common sight on the roads in the main tourist areas. A permanent crowd of bemused locals and tourists surround the snake charmer with his well-trained “pet” - the yellowy white snake is so still in his trance that he appears to be made of wood until you get closer … something I tend not to do!
Entering the bustling Waterloo Street, lined with yet more stalls, it feels like a microcosm of the QVC channel. Tens of stall-holders are shouting out the benefits of th
e super stain remover or vegetable choppers they are purveying, enticing shoppers to come and view their demonstrations. The sweet scent of incense permeates the air all of sudden as I enter the stretch of ornate Chinese and Hindu temples (Kwan Im and Sri Krishnan), where masses of prayer-goers offer up bunches of smouldering incense sticks to their god, or bouquets of colourful flowers – all of which are being peddled by old Chinese ladies outside. There’s even a large gold effigy of a Buddha outside one religious artefacts shop alongside a temple which people stroke for good luck.
In amongst all these stalls you will see stands offering face-mole removal services, fortune readings, foot massage and many more that I haven’t been able to decipher for the signs are all in Chinese characters. Not to mention the semi-clad old men, seated on rugs, selling packets of tissues to the passing public or the crazy old man who cuts drinks cans up into thin metal strips that he then uses to weave mini-metal baskets to sell.
Within moments of passing the temples, I arrive at the air-conditioned sanctuary of the Fortune Centre, where my class is located. A walk through the lobby in this very local building is almost as interesting. You can see plenty of office workers tucking into breakfasts of fish-head soup, laksa noodles or roti pratas, washed down with iced fruit blends of every colour and flavour.
It’s certainly a walk less ordinary. I’m trying to make sure I appreciate it for what it is while I have the chance. It is amazing how soon you can become blasé when you get so accustomed to things that should seem special.
Time for a change
Posted by: starqueen79 on: October 28, 2009
Spring forward, fall back. A handy little saying I always call to mind when March and October roll around and it’s time to change the clocks. A biannual tradition that has been a given part of my life for 30 years. Until this year.
Whilst most of you reading this will have swung the clock back an hour on Saturday night and revelled in an extra hour in bed, over in Singapore I learned we don’t observe DST (daylight saving time) and our clocks stay constant year round. No time change here, so we’re now 8 hours ahead of the UK.
The wonderful world of wikipedia just enlightened me to the fact that pretty much the whole of Asia is a DST-free zone, but that’s not always been the case. China, Japan and Hong Kong all experimented with it for a few years, but it never really caught on. That said, Bangaladesh has introduced DST for the first time this year and Pakistan has been a DST-fan since 2002.
Being so close to the equator (160km N), Singapore’s climate and seasons vary very little during the year, which means in the five months or so we have been here, we have seen hardly any difference in the timing of sunrise and sunset. The length of daylight hours here is more or less constant; the sun starts to creep up around 6.45am (long after A has gone to work bless him) and will put itself to bed by about 7pm. So whilst we get to enjoy a year round tropical climate, I do miss those long summer evenings! The nearest thing we get to an actual season is just about upon us. November and December are supposed to be the wettest months of the year, or monsoon season if you will, so it will be interesting to see how much more rain we’ll get and if the temperature will drop any. What I find interesting is that in the last few weeks I have noticed a lot of trees turning golden and brown and more leaves falling than usual, suggesting autumn, but somehow I doubt we’ll get stark, bare trees come January. We live in a rainforest after all…..!!!
Stop following me!
Posted by: starqueen79 on: October 20, 2009
The level of customer service in Singapore is quite possibly unsurpassable. Friendly staff in shops and restaurants always greet you with a “Hello, welcome” and will attend to your every need as if it’s a real pleasure and no trouble at all. But sometimes it can just be way too much, especially for a westerner like me coming from a country where customer service is often non-existent. I’m just not used to it!!! To give them their dues, waiting staff are usually spot on – the bill will arrive moments after you ask for it, your water and wine are constantly topped up for you, and your plate is whisked from under your nose as soon as you have swallowed your last morsel (or sometimes while it’s still en route to your mouth!) – all very efficient and agreeable, so no real complaints there. My particular bug-bear is with retail staff. The attention (read: hassling!) is so over the top and frankly quite irksome.
Take today for instance. I’m out shopping with mum who’s looking for a new purse and has very particular requirements as to what she’s after. We go into a well known Japanese department store and head towards the rather sizeable handbag section. Now, there’s not just one eager shop assistant waiting to give you her “expert opinion” and offer advice to push a sale. Oh no. There is one assistant for every brand being sold. So, we’re looking at at least 20 different shop assistants all hovering around their particular area, with nothing better to do than bother innocent shoppers.
“Hello ma’am. You want purse? ” <mum and I do our best to nod politely and look away to avoid any further conversation>
“We have nice colours. This one limited edition, nice huh? You want in white? We have in white and gold and red” <We bite our tongues to prevent ourselves from telling her she is pointing out the bleeding obvious as the three coloured purses in the range are right in front of us. We do have eyes!>
“Genuine leather and all 10% off today. You want buy?” <mutterings of “Just looking, thank you”>
Ok. You like this one instead? Very nice pattern. ” <whether we like the purse or not is now not the point. We just want to escape and continue browisng in peace and try and sidle into the next section>
“Hello, ma’am. You want purse? <and joy of joys we’re collared by the next woman and we’re doomed to repeat the entire tedious experience all over again as we move from Guess to DKNY>
It’s enough to put even seasoned shoppers like us off! Department stores definitely seem to be the worst offenders. I nearly blew my top when I first arrived and I tried to buy some bedding. Knowing what was in store for me I went armed with my ipod, in the vain belief I might be able to wander in peace. How wrong I was. After having about seven different styles and colours of pillow thrust in front of my face in the first few minutes of my attempted browsing and despite protests of “just looking”, I found myself compelled to leave the shop for fear I might actually throttle someone. Not a wise idea in a country that endorses capital punishment. So, the bed in the spare room had to settle for a bland swedish number from the customer-service free Ikea.
So if you can put up with the “friendly help”, I can definitely advocate Singapore as a real shopping Mecca. The malls here are like nothing you’ve ever seen and there are bigger and better ones springing up all over the place at the moment, each trying hard to outdo the other. The sheer range of shops is superb. Just make sure you’re a professional when it comes to fending off the sales staff or better still wear earplugs!
The curse of the travel-sick traveller
Posted by: starqueen79 on: October 13, 2009
I’m definitely one lucky young lady. The last five months have been a truly amazing experience. Not only am I getting to enjoy living in Singapore and all that entails, but I have the opportunity to explore a large part of the world I’ve never before been to. I’ve been fortunate enough to already do a bit of travelling and we still have several more trips between now and the end of the year to look forward to.
As a child I hated travelling. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that on more than one occasion I didn’t even make it to the end of our street in the car before succumbing to travel-sickness. It’s the curse of the $ family children – we all suffered from it, but hated taking the kwells tables that dried out our throats, so mum had to get crafty and hide them in our sandwiches to make sure we’d take them. Most people have maps, torches, perhaps some spark plugs in their car for any big journeys – ours always had a sick bowl too! I must have been a teacher’s nightmare on school trips to the lakes and the zoo. It was always cool to sit at the back of the bus, yet I needed to be near the front so I could see out the big window, and have quick access to the door for “emergencies” …
For a girl who had never been abroad until she trotted off gleefully on a school choir trip to Holland and Germany at 13, it’s funny to think how much travel has become part of my life since then, not just as a leisure-time passion, but also my career. That first overseas trip was such a new and exciting experience for me, dampened only by the terrible sea-sickness I endured on the ferry crossing! My life took a very different turn just six months later when I moved over to the Netherlands with my family for my dad’s work. My eyes were opened to a whole new world. At school I had classmates of varying cultures and nationalities – Italians, Egyptians, Australians, Turks, Chinese – you name it. Studying languages provided me with even more opportunities for school trips to all parts of Europe and I quickly developed a love for discovering new places and interacting with different peope. It sounds cliched and pompous I know, but I soon felt more European than British and when I moved back to the UK for university, I struggled to adjust in the first few months.
A typical student lack of funds put paid to any travelling during my first two years at Uni, but during my third year I got to live in Salamanca, Spain as part of my degree course. I’d spent the previous year burrowing away most of my wages from my bar job so I would be able to make the most of my year abroad and explore the Iberian peninsula, which I managed to do during weekend visits and an Easter road-trip. A year later, armed with a degree, I postponed the inevitability of the real world for a few months longer by donning a backpack round Europe – fascinated more to see historical sites and works of art than laze on the beaches of Oz. I had to invest in a pair of motion sickness armbands to wear on the numerous coach journeys I took, and always had an emergency supply of ginger biscuits to hand (ginger’s good for nausea!).
And then my first career step took me into the world of corporate travel management, joining a multi-national on it’s grad scheme. I spent five years enjoying working in the travel industry and communicating with colleagues all over the world. I was also lucky enough to get some great trips out of it both as part of my job and through discounted holiday deals for staff. I’ll never forget flying first class to South Africa and staying in a luxury safari lodge for a marketing assignment! Oh the life. And my career in travel continued when I joined Eurostar and unleashed my inner train spotter (I do hail from Crewe after all…!). Now, usually I travel quite well on trains providing I have a forward facing seat, but even the smooth 186mph glide of the Eurostar would often cause me to arrive in Paris feeling a tad green around the gills.
And now here I am in Singapore, at the gateway to Asia, and planning trips here there and everywhere. Most people are fortunate enough to grow out of childhood travel sickness, and I would have said that mine has got much better in recent years, but this weekend’s trip to the Indonesian island of Bintan made me realise differently. Whilst waiting to catch the ferry from Tanah Merah for the one hour crossing, the heavens opened and the wind got up to cause some rather large ripples in the harbour! Th
e boat we were boarding was swaying up and down in such a ridiculous fashion that I genuinely felt sick just watching it from the safety of solid ground. Luckily, the seas got much calmer as we headed out and I was saved from having to use the blue plastic bag in the pocket of my seat. We hadn’t realised that our resort was a 1.5 hour car journey to the other side of the island and after suffering in silence for the first 40 minutes taking deep breaths with my eyes closed to abate the nausea I had to ask the driver to stop and swapped seats with A who was in the front. It’s so embarrassing, and it doesn’t end there. Despite good weather, the ferry journey back home the next day was extremely rough, and I spent the entire crossing with my head in A’s lap praying my stomach would stop churning in the same fashion as the waves. I can’t tell you how good it felt to be on dry land again.
Luckily for me my passion for travel greatly outweighs the “side-effects”, so I’ll always keep on trekking regardless. But I really should listen to my body more and always make sure I have some tablets and ginger with me … just in case. Ah, the curse of the travel-sick traveller!
The hottest tickets in town
Posted by: starqueen79 on: October 3, 2009
Singapore got that Va Va Vroooom feeling last weekend when the second annual F1 night Grand Prix sped into town. We may not have had Grandstand access with the VIPs, but we undoubtedly had the hottest tickets in town. To ensure we got the best view of the circuit after two days of reccying, A made us turn up for Sunday’s big race a mere 5 hours early, so we got to stand in the blazing sun and sweat a lot. It was hot, hot, hot.
After watching the practice session on Friday night, I’ll admit to feeling pretty bored by the whole thing. The cars were screeching past so fast I had no idea who was who. I changed my tune on Saturday night at the qualifiers where armed with my official F1 programme, I was able to identify the drivers as they sped past us at turn 16 – we were in a pretty good spot and got to see them slow at the turn. There was so much more atmosphere and it was exciting to see who qualified where. But my evening’s highlight had to be the free gig by Travis on the Padang, which I enjoyed dancing round to!
Sunday arrived and the boys were very excited. We were there for gate opening at 3pm and headed toward the platform at Turn 16, positioned nicely in front of the bend and a big screen so we could get an impression of the whole race. Luckily the scorching sun only did its damage for a while as we were soon shaded somewhat by the trees behind us. It was fun watching the Aston Martin and Porsche races, but I loved watching the Driver’s Parade at 6pm where they toured the track in vintage cars waving at the cheering crowds as they went by. I was standing next to a guy with a big England flag which got a big thumbs up from Lewis Hamilton. 
There was a real buzz as the actual race got underway at 8pm. Despite a raft of lightning in the sky above us, the rain kept away thankfully. Lewis started in pole position and soon made a breakaway from the pack, widening his lead with every lap – he was really flying. It was all over for Heidfeld in Lap 21, following a collision with Sutil which brought out the Safety Car and slowed proceedings right down. The Red Bull team certainly didn’t have the greatest day and when Webber’s brakes failed spinning him into the wall it put paid to the race for him. But it was McLaren who reigned victorious on the day with Hamilton winning convincingly. Glock and Alonso took the runner’s up prizes and all credit to Jensen Button for finishing in 5th after a shocking qualifier the day before.
The day’s festivities were rounded off with a Backstreet Boys gig on the Padang. Not a fan at all - I took much more pleasure in scoffing a mind-blowingly spicy burrito from the Senor Taco stand!
So, my first Grand Prix. It probably won’t be my last and if we’re still around this time next year, we’ll definitely be back for the Singapore night GP. It was fantastic watching it on home turf and seeing the city so beautifully depicted as the cars raced through its streets. I think the real highlight for A was getting to walk home along the track which they opened up just an hour or so after the race!
Singapore feels tremors
Posted by: starqueen79 on: October 1, 2009
You’ve probably all read the terrible news about the earthquake which caused wide-spread devastation in Padang, Indonesia yesterday, following shortly in the wake of Tuesday’s earthquake/tsunami which wreaked havoc and took many lives in the South Pacific. It feels disconcerting to know that living in Singapore we’re so close to something so tragic.
In fact, there are many reports in the local paper today from Singaporeans who felt tremors in their building at 18.15 last night, just minutes after the quake struck in Padang. High-rise
buildings are said to have shaken and furniture moved. Many alerts were raised to the emergency services and even some office buildings evacuated. I was at home at the time, and would have expected to notice something being on the 38th floor, but thankfully I didn’t experience anything, although writing this now I do recollect the fire alarm sounding in the lift around that time, which was unusual. Should we ever be faced with a natural disaster or any kind of terrorist attack, our condo is fitted out with a “bomb shelter”, which locks from the inside and is supposed to protect us from such incidents (although we’ve turned ours into a storage cupboard!). It seems to have mainly been the north and eastern parts of the island that felt the after-effects (whereas we live south-west), but on arriving at my TESOL class today our teacher told us the Fortune Centre building had shaken last night, and even trembled again this morning just before we arrived in what must have been an after-shock.
South East Asia is suffering on many accounts this week. Typhoon Ketsana has killed at least 85 people across Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos in recent days. The storms have unleashed the worst flooding for decades with tens of thousands fleeing their villages to escape the treacherous mudslides. I don’t know enough about geology and it’s relation to climate change, but there do seem to have been more and more events of this type happening around the world over the past few years, and you can’t help but wonder. Whatever the cause, my heart goes out to everyone who’s been affected.
Hari Raya celebrations
Posted by: starqueen79 on: September 21, 2009
Singapore has a very diverse religious and cultural make-up. It’s home to Singaporeans, Chinese, Malaysians, Indians, Arabs and a whole host of Western ex-pats. In terms of religion, it embraces Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Taoists, Sikhs and Hindus, all of whom live in seeming harmony together in this small city state. This colourful cultural tapestry is visible through the many festivals and celebrations that take place throughout the year.
We seems to be at the height of festivities at the moment as during autumn there are three important celebrations:
- Hari Raya Puasa (Malay/Muslim);
- Mid-Autumn Festival (Chinese);
- and Deepavali (Indian).
Hari Raya Puasa is the Malay term for the Muslim festival of Eid, and literally translated means “Celebration day of fasting”, marking as it does the end of Ramadan. Celebrations are currently in full swing, with Monday (today) being a public holiday here in Singapore. During Ramadan, the month leading up to Hari Raya, Muslims fast daily from dusk to dawn and also abstain from pleasures/vices such as smoking and sex. Many hotels, restaurants and markets run Ramadan Bazaars or Buffets offering traditional Malay delicacies for the breaking of the fast. On the eve of the festival itself, Muslims will say prayers in mosques or at home and the family will prepare special food and treats. Hari Raya itself is a day centred around being with family and loved ones and seeking reconciliation. Children receive gifts of money from parents and elders and in the evening there are often celebrations with firecrackers and sparklers. I could see the fireworks over Chinatown on Saturday night from our condo and the streets around there are full of colourful lights and bright decorations, which are commonly hung up in households, shopping centres and in community areas. To have seen the festivities at their best, we should have made the effort to head up to Arab Street which is the heart of the Muslim community.
In just a few weeks it is the chinese “mooncake” festival, and we’re planning to be a bit more proactive and witness first-hand the parades and celebrations.
Brace yourself
Posted by: starqueen79 on: September 16, 2009
Despite recently turning 30, I am feeling like a proper teenager at the moment! No, I haven’t had a sudden burst of acne. No, I haven’t developed a schoolgirl crush on my older brother’s friend. And no, I haven’t just watched MTV for 20 hours straight…
Instead I have voluntarily opted for something that is the bain of many a 13 year old’s life: Braces.
That’s right. In a bid to at long last have a set of pearly whites deserving of a lipstick model, I have plucked up the courage to get the work done to get my wonky teeth straightened. Those of you who know me well will know that this is an issue I have been struggling with since I was 16. The good news is that I don’t have “train tracks”, but have been lucky enough to try more advanced orthodontic technology in the form of Invisilign, which comes tried, tested and recommended by several of my friends. It’s basically a very fine clear plastic gumshield that sits over your teeth that you change every 2-4 weeks as your teeth are “moulded” back to their right position. You really can’t tell I’m wearing them, unless you look closely and it actually feels surprisingly comfy to wear. The only downside being that I have to take them out everytime I want to eat or drink (only water is allowed with them in), which is a bit of a hassle. But on the plus side, it should stop me snacking so I may also shed a few pounds as an added bonus!
So, all being well, within a year or so you might start seeing big cheesy grins on all my photos as I finally feel confident about smiling for the camera … here’s hoping!
Conquering Mount Kinabalu
Posted by: starqueen79 on: September 10, 2009
Just over a week ago, I found myself standing at the foot of Mount Kinabalu in Borneo, the highest mountain in South East Asia at an awe-inducing 4,095m. Torrential rain the night before had cast heavy cloud across the whole of the UNESCO world heritage site of Kinabalu Park and I was unable to see the literal and metaphorical mountain I was about to climb. This was probably not a bad thing, as I’ll confess to feeling more than a little bit of trepidation at this point. But mainly I felt rather excited and invigorated by the prospect of doing something that is so far beyond the realm of my normal comfort zone.
Together with Ally and our friends Ollie and Fi, we registered the climb with Park Headquarters and were assigned our mountain guide, Janarius, who was super laid back and completely non-conversational. After posing for a smiley group photo at the starting point, Timphonon Gate (1,866m), we began the ascent. Six kilometres of relentless uphill walking lay ahead just to get us to the overnight rest-point at Gunting Lagadan, followed by a further 2.72 to the summit. With my knapsack on my back, a sturdy pair of walking boots and whole lot of Kendal mint cake I felt upbeat and ready to show that mountain what I was made of.
It was a short-lived feeling, and about 20 minutes into the climb I was already starting to wonder what on earth I was doing. I felt shattered already, the ascent was really steep with lots of rocky terrain and makeshift steps to climb. I seriously doubted how I would make it to the top and wished I had spent more time in the gym. Remembering the wise words of my friend Lou who told me to arm myself with a song, I started singing that 80’s Yazz classic “The Only Way is Up”, which seemed to have the desired effect and I pushed on through the pain barrier and started to get into a walking rhythm. Luckily there were several “shelters” scattered along the route which provided a place to rest and refuel (some even had fully functioning toilets!) and meet with fellow climbers on their way up and down. It amazed all four of us how soon we noticed the effects of the altitude – with the thinning air, every breath became more laboured and we were all struggling to regulate our breathing and feeling much more tired out by the walk than we would otherwise have done. Luckily, the worst any of us experienced was a bit of light headedness – we were all spared the ill affects of altitude sickness.
It had so far been extremely muggy and misty en route, so sadly we saw absolutely nothing of the amazing views we can only imagine surrounded us. As we got higher, the weather started to close in and we donned our macs to keep the drizzle off. A group of Scandinavians whom we met on their way down told us the weather conditions had been awful and the summit route had to be closed earlier that day, with only one of their group of twenty managing to reach the top. Needless to say, this didn’t fill us with confidence and all too soon the heavens opened and we found ourselves trudging though a heavy downpour, whipping at us from all angles thanks to the gusting wind. After a while we ducked for cover in the porch-way of a small hut and sheltered from the elements. We were all soaked to the skin, but still in good spirits – the power of laughter can have an amazing effect on the soul! Thankfully the main rest-house, Laban Rata, was just a five minute trek away and we were all relieved to arrive and peel off layers of wet clothing while we warmed ourselves over a mug of hot chocolate. It took five hours to complete this part of the climb, and we were all utterly exhausted and amazed by how challenging the climb had been, but feeling pretty good for having made it this far. Unfortunately for us, we were staying at a hut another five minutes further on and had to put back on our wet things and face the battering wind and rain yet again.
Gunting Lagadan was a pretty basic hut with about 10 dorm rooms. By happy coincidence the generator had bust meaning there was no hot water or heating. Lovely. In our tiny bunk-bed room for four we stripped off our soggy garments and dived under the scratchy covers to try and get warm. It’s fair to say spirits had taken a nose-dive by this point and Al started experiencing horribly painful leg cramps, owing to the muscle battering we’d all taken. After a much-needed snooze, we had to put back on our cold, wet clothes and head back down to Laban Rata for dinner. Night had fallen and so this was a great opportunity to test out our head-lamps ahead of the dawn summit climb the next day. We filled our faces on rice, noodles and sugary pastries before heading back through the flooding rocky walkway to the dorm where we were greeted by two squeaking rats. In normal circumstances I would probably have freaked out, but I was way beyond being phased by anything so trivial at this point! By 8.30pm we were all tucked up, sharing beds for warmth, listening to the rain hammering against the roof and windows and dreading the buzz of the alarm set for 2am …
I’ll admit that I had resigned myself to the fact that the summit path would again be closed because of the terrible weather, but we were determined to at least give it a go and so we headed out in our damp fusty gear around 2.30am for a quick breakfast of toast and a hot drink to charge our batteries. We were given the green light and the first part of the ascent felt surprisingly mild compared to the previous day and thank the lord we were spared the rain, or else I think I would have just collapsed in a puddle. Yet again we trudged up steep rocky pathways, floundering in some parts to make out the way with just the aid of our meagre head-torches. The ground was so water logged, it was like climbing a waterfall as it pelted past us down the mountain, soaking our boots and socks. Having been the one who probably struggled the most the previous day, I led the charge to set the pace to my own rhythm. I took the “slow but steady gets you there in the end” approach, after all, why rush?! This proved to be perhaps both a blessing in disguise and also my own downfall. After perhaps 20 minutes, the leafy landscape was replaced by sheer rock face. That is, STEEP, sheer rock face. A rope affixed with joists to the rock paved the trail up to the peak which we were told to follow. At many points, you had to hold onto that rope for love of your life as the rock fell away hundreds of metres around you. In other parts you had to haul yourself up angles of 70 degrees with pure might and will power. Being first meant I had to constantly navigate the best path and work out how to handle the next gruelling obstacle. Doing all this in the dark was indescribably scary. However, I think if I could have seen the terrain in broad daylight (as we did on the way down), I would never have had the guts to do it. Truly frightening.
After an hour and a half we reached Sayat-Sayat, the last check-point before the summit. There were a few people hanging around when we arrived and our guide advised us we couldn’t proceed due to sheet ice. Now, I was all for tackling the summit, but not against advice from the pros and certainly didn’t feel it worth risking life and
limb. So we all shared a moment of fleeting disappointment, followed by some relief that it might be all over. I shouldn’t admit that, but it had been so unrelenting I was ready to throw in the towel. After hanging around for a short while to see if conditions would alter, we noticed a few climbers heading on through. At that point Fi adamantly decided that if others were doing it then so were we and if it weren’t for her insistence, I’m not sure I’d have anything more to write at this point! And if it hadn’t been for everyone’s generous support in sponsoring me and the guilt I would have felt in not carrying on, I’m not sure whether or not I could or would have continued …
So we soldiered on. I questioned the guide on how hard this final part would be, and he told me “very difficult, more than before”. Oh joy of joys. It was raining now and the cold was immense. We felt very under-prepared and under-dressed for what we were facing. None of the guidebooks we had read in advance mentioned how cold it could get and the impact of bad weather. More rope-climbing over steep and tricky rocks ensued. With every step I felt I was taking two backwards as we crossed the exposed rock in the howling wind. I’m not proud to admit that I had a case of the waterworks at this point. Physically, this was by far and above the toughest thing I have ever done and I was truly exhausted from it. But I had expected it to be hard. What I hadn’t prepared myself for was the mental battle. How do you make your body do something when your head is telling you to stop? Mine was actually screaming “no, no, no” on loop and I couldn’t brace myself to keep going. Ally was my lifeline, issuing firm but loving words of encouragement to get me through. He really pushed me on. And then, there it was, looming above us in the greying light of dawn, a stark and barren outcrop of rocks – Low‘s Peak. In reality the summit was only 20-30m or so away, but up a very steep and scary looking climb it felt like an impossible feat. Sheer terror induced a brief panic attack, which I blame entirely on the difficult breathing conditions and not the fear of God driving through me! I actually said, “That’s it. I’m not going any further, I can see the summit and that’s good enough for me”. Thankfully, after some “le mans” style breathing lessons with Ally the panic assuaged enough for me to haul ass up that final stage and touch the sign on top:
“Low’s Peak, 4095m”.
I have never felt anything like the sensation of standing on that peak. Pure fear melted into sheer relief and a strange sense of exhilaration washed over me. I didn’t even mind the fact it was so misty we couldn’t see the usually breathtaking views across the South China Sea (although now I am gutted!). The thought of finally being able to get off the mountain, which is all I had wanted to do for the past few hours, gave me a renewed vigour and I felt like I skipped down the rock-face that had just minutes ago tested me to the most extreme physical and mental limits. The descent was no mean feat either. As dawn broke, we could see the eerie tips of the mountain wrapped by cloud and the breathtaking but frightening looking route we had ascended. In parts we had to almost abseil down the steep rock with help from the rope. Reaching our dorm was a brilliant feeling, especially when our guide confirmed to the ranger that we had reached the summit for the issuing of our certificates. We quickly packed up our things and tucked into a well-deserved breakfast of pancakes and hot chocolate at Laban Rata as the sun peaked over the surrounding mountain ranges. It was truly a sight for sore eyes and I can only describe the scenery as a tropical version of Switzerland! It took a further five hours to get back down that mammoth mountain and the pain soaring through my aching muscles was immense. Those steep steps coming up felt double the height on the way back down and the tops of my legs literally felt on fire. Unfortunately, the legacy of Mount Kinabalu continued for an entire seven days before my legs went back to normal and I could walk up and down a step with out screaming. Since our climb, we have subsequently found out that Mt Kinabalu is used as a training point for Everest, which explains a lot!
So there you have it. Veni, Vidi, Vincci. I did it.
I felt like a very weak person at many times as I tried to conquer that mountain, but somehow I found the inner strength and determination from somewhere deep inside to do it. Thoughts of all the people who had wished me well and donated to the Alzheimer’s Research Trust were a massive part of what spurred me on. But most of all I did it for my dear old Nan. Whilst I hope she would have been proud of what I did in her memory, I can’t help but laugh as she’d no doubt have thought me completely insane to do such a thing bless her.
I can honestly say that this will be a once in a lifetime experience for me as I intend to never, ever climb a mountain again!! But my God, what a fantastic adventure it was.
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