Sabah, on the island of Borneo, is more laid-back than mainland Malaysia – and not as developed. For example, the public transport consists of these little vans that pick you up which are driven by someone’s uncle.
When I was younger we’d drive out into the jungle and play in the rivers, rapids and streams. It doesn’t sound like a great holiday, but the swamps are actually a good place to visit: there are resorts and huts in the mangroves with decks that you can lie on.
You have to be nice to the orangutans. Near Sabah’s second biggest town, Sandakan, is the Sepilok sanctuary where they roam around freely. I once saw a guy be mean to one and it bit him on the face.
Kota Kinabalu was bombed by the British in the second world war. There’s only one building left that’s older than 20 years and that’s a clock tower on a hill, which was built in 1905. But if you drive out to Tuaran, my dad’s home town, you can see how people used to live. It’s got old colonial townhouses and an old market, and even though it’s tiny they have their own fried noodle dish, called tuaran me. So go out there to see how Kota Kinabalu used to be.
Sutera Harbour is a glamorous manmade resort built on reclaimed land in Kota Kinabalu. It’s also home to the only comedy club on the island of Borneo as far as I’m aware. I’ve played it twice. The first time I died terribly: I was being all self-deprecating. People don’t really get self-deprecation in Malaysia. They’re like: “Why are you being so sad?”
Kota Kinabalu is known for its islands. Manukan, which you can get to on a little boat, is quite a small island but you can sit on the beach, eat and go snorkelling and see the fish. You can also stay in a cabin for the night.
Mount Kinabalu is the tallest mountain in the region and the city is named after it. You have to book far in advance to climb to the peak. It’s kind of like Everest, just not as hard – anyone could climb it. Well, I couldn’t, but I’m incredibly unfit. I’ve never actually braved the peak – you know when you live in a place and you never get round to doing the things you’re meant to? If you’ve been to a gym before you’re probably all right.
Socialising revolves around food. There’s not much of a drinking culture; people go out and eat in the middle of the night instead. And that’s great. People interact over food. They are still not that used to foreigners in Kota: you’ll probably get a few stares. But staring is not rude in Malaysia, so just stare back and see who blinks first.
The quintessential Malaysian dish is laksa. It combines Chinese, Indian and Malay cuisine in one recipe. It’s noodle soup in a curry broth, with prawns and tofu and chicken, and it’s great. I think it’s my death row dish. Sorry to take a morbid turn. But if I was going to be killed by the state, it’s the food I’d choose. There’s a great laksa place on Gaya Street, where there’s a market every Saturday morning selling cloth and spices and trinkets and stuff.
Another dish to try is bakkuteh. It’s a sort of herby soup. You rock up and they give you loads of different bowls of little things in the same herby soup. So there will be pork, fish balls, tofu or tripe and you just eat them with rice. It doesn’t sound great but it’s delicious.
In Malaysia in general, the more expensive the restaurant, the worse the food. There’s a great Chinese, also on Gaya Street, called the Diamond. It’s kind of dirty, but they do great food. That’s where the locals go.
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