In which the travelers see a really, really big flower
We woke up early and headed over to the restaurant for a quick breakfast before our minibus arrived to take us to visit the largest flower in the world: the Rafflesia. As we waited for our food to arrive, we chatted with another guest, Charlie, who we had spoken to briefly the evening before. Actually, we hadn’t said much to Charlie, but we quickly figured out that he shared our cinema sensitivities. As we watched “Something’s Got to Give” in the guesthouse common lounge, we were both impressed by Jack Nicholas’ open-hospital-gown display of sixty-year old butt, as well as Diane Keaton’s brief full-frontal nudie shot. Good for both of them to show themselves as they are, despite Hollywood’s perennial proclivities for the firm and perky. Charlie’s good taste in films was further confirmed through discussing Keanu Reeves and his ‘whoa, dude’ school of acting. Anyways, Ric made a mental note to orchestrate a more in-depth meeting, and this morning waiting for our runny eggs provided a great opportunity. Charlie, it turns out, is completing a 17-month world tour, visiting every continent (including a month trek in Antarctica). Pretty cool, eh?
Charlie leaves, our minibus arrives, and we drive to two other locations to pick-up other passengers. First a family of three joined us: a French-Canadian engineer, his Chinese wife, and their five-year old son, Felix. They live in the Cameron Highlands, and told us that although they have seem all the major (and minor) sights of the area, they still have not seen the giant Rafflesia flower. Next we all were confused when we drove up a residential back alley. Was this where we were picking-up the other tour group members? Nope, we just stopped at our driver’s house so he could turn off a water tap that he accidentally left on that morning when he went to work. Teasing him, someone asked if that was part of the tour. Finally we pulled up beside a hotel where six young Malaysians (three men and three women) pilled in. Our minibus full, we headed off to find our flower.
After driving for an hour or so, we pulled onto the shoulder of a relatively nondescript section of the highway. Across a field we could see a clutch of houses on stilts. We had arrived. We walked in to the village, and discovered that this was where an extended family of indigenous people live. They smiled at us shyly from the windows and porches of their homes.
Acting as an interpreter, our tour guide explained how these folks traditionally hunt in the forest using blow pipes and poisoned darts. He showed us a third-generation blow pipe, and demonstrated how it works by silently firing a dart into a nearby tree. He then invited each of us to give it a shot. Although the pipe was long, about two meters, it was light and not difficult to hold steady to aim. We hit the target place in front of us (although Ric missed his second shot, which lodged itself firmly in a nearby tree). We were also surprised by the amount of air pressure that was required to move the dart: it was easy. We thought you’d have to blast it like blowing up a balloon, but it was more light snuffing a candle. We learned that the poison on the darts did not come from frogs, like we assumed, but from a special tree. When the dark hits an animal, the animal is slowed and cannot run in a couple minutes to an hour, depending on its size. The poison wasn’t used to kill the animal as much as weaken it and make it easy to kill by hand. The meat around where the dart struck was cut out and discarded, but the rest of the animal was safe to eat. Exactly what effect the poison has on animals (i.e. cardiac arrest, paralysis) we couldn’t understand.
Finally, the feature attraction could begin: searching for the flower. We were told that it would be a 1.5 hour walk to the flower, and about the same back. At first the journey began easily as we walked up a steep dirt road that had been deeply rutted by the rain. This road wound its way through the jungle, often with huge bamboo trees on either side. Eventually the road ended and we had to proceed on foot. Although the climb was extremely steep, and it was quite hot, we easily outpaced the other members of the tour. The family was slowed down by the youngster, and the six Malaysians youth were leisurely taking full advantage of all photo opportunities.
At about the time we were getting really sweaty, our guide stopped and waited for the rest of the group. When we had all assembled, he asked if we wanted something that sounded like “eyes blue”. The Malaysians thought it was a great idea, and we were curious too, so machete in hand our guide jumped into a thick patch of bamboo. We could hear him in there crashing about, and occasionally a length of bamboo would get thrown out. Cutting off an end of the bamboo, the guide showed us how each section of bamboo contained water. It was cool and refreshing, and tasted a bit like, well, bamboo.
We climbed and climbed. The path was becoming less manicured and more challenging to follow. Frequently we had to cross streams by jumping from rock to rock. Some streams were in deep ravines and required us to cross using rickety bamboo bridges that swayed with the weight of our steps. We had been walking for more than two hours, and the terrain was becoming harder to navigate, especially for Felix, the five-year old, and one of the young Malaysian men.
At one point the path turned into a veritable stream itself, as there was water pouring down it. On this stretch we encountered another tour group descending after visiting the flower. We were close! Soon after this, our guide changed course and we scrambled up the slope behind him on what was a barely visible path. And then, suddenly, there it was: the largest flower in the world, the Rafflesia!
The first thing that struck us was its size. It was huge: about a meter wide, and stood about 40 cm off the forest floor. In the middle was a hollow bowl, with large plasticky spikes inside. Surrounding the bowl, were five giant, bright red, fleshy petals. Nearby you could see buds ranging in size from that of an egg to a bowling ball, although oddly we didn’t see anything that looked like leaves. Despite the legendary aroma (like rotting meat to attract flies), we didn’t notice much of a smell at all. We quickly snapped up a bunch of photos and made way for others to do the same.
Our quest fulfilled, we began the long and arduous trek back down. On the way, we stopped at a waterfall to rest and cool off. By now, one of the young Malaysian men was in pretty rough shape, and was seriously lagging behind. He had been having muscle cramps in his legs and at times was unable to move. Fortunately, he had some great friends who were determined to help him get off the mountain. For the next hour or so we would walk ahead for a while, then stop and wait for the rest of the group to catch up, before starting off again. Whenever there was a fork in the path, we made sure we waited until they could see which way to go (which should have been what our guide did). When we got to the road, we knew that the path was obvious and we stopped waiting for anyone else. When we got back to the village, our driver was shocked by how long it had taken us. Instead of finishing around two or three, our group was finishing between four and five! But the most important thing was that we all made it down safely.
After another hour’s drive back to town we disembarked from our mini-bus and headed to the bus station to buy tickets back to Kuala Lumpur for tomorrow. The day after that we’re off to the airport to fly to Yogyakarta in Indonesia. On the way back to our hotel we stopped for dinner, then to buy snacks for our 8am bus tomorrow morning. As Gin was inside shopping, Ric saw our friend Tom (see Travelogue 40) walking down the street. After an entertaining chat, and an exchange of contact details we said our goodbyes and finally headed back to showers and bed!
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Jon