Blood, Sweat and Cheers in Borneo's Sarawak Highlands

Ahh, leg cramp! It’s near the end of an 8-hour, 23km trek to a distant longhouse and back, and Luke, my 54-year old guide and I are racing against the coming darkness to get back to our own longhouse at Pa’ Umor.

We can see the last light at sunset scooting up the red edges of the rumpled mountains across the border in Indonesia. The jungle is already cloaked in a cool darkness, save for twilight’s reflection in the occasional puddle. We’ve got another 2km to go and I’m knackered.

‘St. Luke’ as I call him, hauls passed me and throws me my salvation – a bite-sized Mars bar. “C’mon, you can rest back at the lodge”. Gee, thanks. I hobble on in the gathering darkness, hammering my thigh now and then to release the cramp.

A tiny breeze, no more than the wingbeat of a moth, carries the aroma of night blossoms, and with every weary step, my grimace soon melts into a smile - I’m actually having the time of my life.

I’m in the Kelabit Highlands of Borneo, in the Malaysian state of Sarawak. These highlands are named after the predominant tribe in the area and is centred on the small settlement of Bario, right next to the border with Indonesian Kalimantan. Bario itself is nothing more than a couple of dirt roads, some long houses, a sprinkling of family homes, a few churches and provision shops spread widely among the rice fields, all hemmed in by cool, deep-green hills.

The highlands are splendidly isolated from the rest of the world. There are no roads to Bario - the only way in and out is by air (there are twice daily flights from Miri), and the only pavement up here is the runway. That’s it. The rest is all about cool, crisp air, rolling hills, postcard-perfect views unsullied by urban haze, and with more dirt trails than you can shake a trekking pole at.

At an altitude of 1500m, Bario, and the 12 Kelabit longhouses that loosely surround it, is the highest inhabited place in Sarawak. The only ways to get around are by walking, biking, or hiring 1 of the 6 privately owned 4WDs up here (which were flown up here in pieces and reassembled).

Sarawak’s highlands have been a nod-and-wink secret among travellers determined to get away from it all for some time now, but perhaps due to the shrill marketing of Sarawak’s other ‘mainstream’ attractions like Mulu Caves, demure Bario has never really hit its stride, in terms of tourism.

Although the highlands have the capacity to accommodate up to 100 visitors at a time, I’ve never seen more than 10-15 others. Clearly, Bario isn’t a money-spinner for Sarawak Tourism. But that’s a good thing. Imagine sharing the trails through the officially protected hills around Bario with a mere handful of like-minded souls!