Sandakan and Sepilok

A really early start (4am) on 21st February, taxi to the KL Sentral bus station, a bus to the airport and flight to Sandakan on the island of Borneo. We were staying at the Mayfair Hotel which is run by the stern but lovely Mr Lum. It was pretty cheap (£10 a night), almost clinically clean, free wi-fi, right in the centre of town and Mr Lum has a collection of about 1000 dvds which he lets guests borrow five at a time to watch on the enormous tv provided in each room.

We went for lunch at the (very expensive) English Tea Rooms, which was at the top of a very steep hill. The cold towels on arrival were just what we needed though. And the cream tea.

After lunch, we took the bus out to Sepilok to visit the orang-utan centre. I was expecting to be enclosed on quite a small deck to observe the orang-utan's afternoon feeding, so was pleasantly surprised at the large size of it, although it was quite busy. Apparently the morning session is the busiest, so that must be a nightmare. We got to see two orang-utans but one woman turned to me and said loudly 'Only two monkeys? Huh!' - I should have answered that if people keep quiet, some more might feel like coming along. I wish people would heed the 'silence' signs and shut up.

We stayed behind after the crowd moved on, chatting to a British woman who volunteers out there every year for four months. It was worth the wait because we saw the smaller one building her nest up high in the trees.

The following day we headed out to the Sandakan memorial park which is sited on the original POW (Prisoners of War) camp, which was set up during the WWII Japanese Occupation in 1942-1945. By 1943, there were around 750 British and more than 1650 Australian soldiers and civilians. Many were transferred from Singapore to be used as labour to build the military airfield in Sandakan.

In 1945, the Japanese army realising that they were losing the war and the allies were closing in, marched the prisoners from the camp at Sandakan to Ranau, 250kms away. There were three separate Death Marches, the first one began in January 1945. The last Death March took the remaining 537 prisoners at camp in Sandakan. The sick who couldn't leave, were shot. There was no account of what happened at camp after the last march. There simply were no survivors to tell the tale. Those who were sent on the Death March trekked through thick jungle, treacherous routes, suffering from disease and some prisoners had no boots. Those who could walk no further were killed. The march took almost a year to complete. Of the 2700 prisoners, only 6 survived of which two had escaped during the second march and four escaped during their stint at Ranau. No British prisoners survived.

The war memorial has a pavilion dedicated to the prisoners of war and houses a very moving exhibition. We've been to a few memorials now and the message, quite rightly, is always the same; the sufferings of war and genocide should never be forgotten or allowed to happen again. But it seems to be on a repeating cycle. And on that depressing note...

Sandakan itself is a lively little place - during the day. It closes pretty early and adopts a bit of sense of danger after dark. It was pretty much bombed to extinction by the Allies during WWII (in order to liberate it from the Japanese you understand). Only the church and part of a barn were left standing.

We left it in rather better condition as we headed out to Turtle Island the next morning.