On the Kinabatangan River, Borneo
Was it really nearly four months ago that I was in Borneo? What a dreamy blur it all was: drifting down the river at dawn, trying to spot proboscis monkeys and crocodiles, still stiff from the night’s sleep in a bed shielded only by mosquito netting.
Drinking cold tea in a hut on the edge of the trees, hearing the young guides joke and laugh in Malay. Trekking through the jungle at night, pointing out colourful birds and tiny frogs with our torches. Showering with river water. Eating traditional Malaysian dinners. Playing cards to pass the humid afternoons.
And now, on these damp Osaka evenings, I can only close my eyes and remember what I saw, remember what I did, remember those days, those days in Borneo.
