Mad dogs and Englishmen. And me.

What is most troubling, and sad, about industrial eating is how thoroughly it obscures all these relationships and connections.

Michael Pollan

The gate to the Hindu temple grounds was locked, and had a sign on it warning off non-believers. From my vantage, I could see a small corner of the main temple building, which sat on Bukit Gasing’s peak, on a point overlooking the jungle – and its elaborate, colourful design hinted at wonders within. There was no getting closer to get a better look, though. Even a walk along the outer wall was impossible, the only path being closed off by fences.

Clearly, the temple wasn’t the main attraction for hikers here – and it wasn’t immediately obvious what was. The way forward was blocked. To my right there was a cliff; to my left, some fairly uninviting jungle. The only way forward, in fact, was backward, down the road the cab had used to bring me here, and I already knew there was nothing particularly interesting about that. Still, I had no choice.

It occurred to me that I could have taken a minute to do some research before heading out, but I had made the decision to go on this hike on a whim. After lunch, and some prompting by Bonnie Lee over Skype, I had realized that I needed to take a few hours off. Between work and things 222, I had stared at my computer solidly, day and night, seven days a week for more weeks than made sense – and I knew there was some hiking to be done on Bukit Gasing. So I headed down to the main road without much thought, and grabbed a cab.

The cab driver had no idea where Bukit Gasing was, let alone any hiking trails, but after asking a few other drivers, he had whisked me here, up the road I was now walking back down. At least I wasn’t staring at the computer – and it was a beautiful, sunny day, on a road that offered a view of a huge mosque with a sprawling mess of city spreading out from it in every direction.

Still, I had come here for a hike, and so when I saw a gap in the trees, I decided to step through it and into the jungle. If all I was destined to do was walk down a hill today, then I figured I may as well do it surrounded by nature. I was immediately rewarded with the sight of a couple of macaques busily foraging. The one closer to me stared me down, and made a noise that I’m sure he thought was threatening, but which only managed to be cute. I steered away from him to let him get on with his day, and started my descent into what I had thought of as a jungle, but which the macaques (it now occurred to me) probably thought of as a big salad.

A cousin of the troupe I saw on Bukit Gasing, who I met in Batu Caves

The way quickly got steep, and it was at times a bit hard to get my footing, which made for a clumsy but controlled descent – and one that was noisy enough to scare off any and all creatures of the woods. Whenever I stopped to take in my surroundings, I could hear frantic activity about hundred yards ahead, as macaques crashed through the leaves to escape from the new guy in the neighbourhood.

One big salad

I came to a level clearing, and as I walked across it, casually wondering where I was, a sudden rush of sound and motion gave me a start. The dirt just ahead of me seemed to come alive, and sprinted away with a rapid series loud thumps. Whatever it was came to a stop just as suddenly, and as I got closer to take a look, I saw that it was a lizard (a monitor lizard, I now know) – at least two feet long – and it struck me that I had no idea what lived in this little piece of jungle. Did these particular lizards bite? Were there snakes? I didn’t have a clue, and hadn’t done an ounce of research, though it was clear to me now that the salad I inhabited wasn’t purely vegetarian, and I wasn’t 100% certain where I sat on the local food chain. Yet here I was, on a little used path, staring at a medium-sized carnivore staring at me, with a way to go (I guessed) and no easy way back. I reminded myself that I should plan a bit better next time, and moved along giving my new friend a wide berth.


For the next fifteen minutes or so, I moved down the hill a bit more cautiously, and paying a bit more attention to the shadows. I don’t know if there are snakes on Bukit Gasing, but I do know that something brown with yellow stripes that might be a snake lurks there … as do some very cute little mammals that look like squirrels with funky haircuts. And there are dragonflies, beautiful red and burgundy ones – a small cluster of which swarmed around me when my jungle path finally met up with a real hiking trail.

The real trail was beautiful and wide. I could see the way back to the road from where I was, but decided to explore the more manicured part of Bukit Gasing while I was there, even though I was a bit thirsty by then. I made a mental note to bring water on my next impromptu hike in the tropics.

I stuck to the flat paths just to get a feel for the place, and was about to turn around and head home, when I met a sweat-drenched couple coming in the other direction. They mentioned that they had gotten lost in the paths ahead, and for a second I considered turning back. Then they mentioned that there was a river ahead, and that they had followed a steep path on the right after that. This had led them to some abandoned homes, and a very spooky ancient deity.

Well, the universe doesn’t have to ask me twice, and the wisdom of turning around suddenly evaporated.

Jungle mushroomsSo off I went to find the river and the path and the spooky deity. The river I found soon enough (the water was brown and undrinkable), along with some very funky looking mushrooms (which at this point were looking quite tasty), and I chose one of the steep paths on the right. And up I went. And up. And up.

The jungle eventually gave way to a steep escarpment, which I clambered up, until I came to a wall – a very familiar looking wall, with a Hindu temple behind it, only now I was on the wrong side of the point. Rather than climb down the escarpment (which seemed a bit treacherous) I followed a narrow path along the wall out to the point, and back to the side I had come from, hoping I would see a way through to the road (though suspecting there was none that didn’t involve pole vaulting).

And this is where I lucked out … there was a gap in the wall that I could step through, and suddenly I was where only the faithful could go, locked into rather than out of the temple grounds. I was tempted to get a closer look at the temple, but there was a gatekeeper nearby, who, when I explained how I had accidentally found my way in, was only too happy to let me out.

And so there I stood again, outside the gate, back where I had started. Drenched in sweat. In 100 degree weather, I would later learn – something that would have made sense to check before I headed out.

I found another path into the salad, and headed down the mountain again. By now, I was a bit peckish, and parched – and it seemed ironic to me that I felt this way in what was essentially a giant buffet. Edible greens, fruits, nuts, mushrooms and roots were all around me, not to mention bugs and meat in various forms – yet I had no way to know what was edible and what was not. I didn’t have the basic sense not to starve in the middle of a buffet. I was dumber than even the bugs here, who had figured out that I was food hours ago.

Note to self: the next time you go to the jungle, bring bug spray.


18 thoughts on “Mad dogs and Englishmen. And me.

  1. Great story – I hope the bug bites were somewhat recognisable.

    It sounded a bit like a game of Zork! (But where were the mad dogs?)

    • I don’t seem to have malaria or any other long lasting effects, so am guessing the bugs were fairly benign. As for the mad dogs, they were out in the midday sun with me, of course – assuming Noël Coward is a reliable source.

    • Thanks so much, Erinn – it’s much appreciated. It’s also a shame that you didn’t join me on my hike; I have a feeling you could have helped me figure out which plants were food, and I could have learned something useful.

    • It was a nice day, thanks – glad you enjoyed it. And yes, the dragonflies were stunning. I love this one’s rich colour, that little bit of transparency at the ends of its wings, and the fact that you can see the flower stem through them. I also greatly appreciate the fact that they don’t bite.

  2. Great story! So well-written – you have a real talent indeed. I have similar experiences as I was a bit of an explorer while in Asia, more so than my ex-pat friends could believe. Once at an ocean lookout south of Port Dickson, I startled a troupe of – not macaques – but of larger, silver-leaf monkeys. I recognized them from our apartment (they used to pick mangoes off our tree), but I’d never seen so many in one spot. I was very cautious – there were many, and they were LARGE. A few weeks later, a rogue elephant was caught and re-located from that very jungle area.

    Monitor lizards…saw many (most from my apartment balcony in the fields below) but none up close. I’m jealous of you for that. I would have been right in his face with my camera, unabashed. :)

    And ‘shrooms!! My favorite; I like to think you posted that one just for me. I was always on the lookout (smellout?) for the rafflesia when I went deep into jungle areas (with worn trails only). That’s the only shot I wanted. Anacondas and pythons? Not so much. Beautiful snapshots, all of yours here. That Nikon captures some remarkable pictures for sure.

    • Thanks Shannon – glad you liked it. Somehow I suspected that you did your bit of exploring in Asia. The day with the silver leaf monkeys sounds amazing. I’ve never run into those in the wild, and the only elephants I’ve dealt with were very tame (though one was quite flatulent).

      The monitor lizard was very cool, and I tried to get some decent shots after he hid himself in the leaves, but the Nikon wasn’t up to the task of getting a good one. Perhaps the Olympus would have done better. :)

      I did think of you on the shrooms, though I was hoping for grubs.

      • Grubs require digging…perhaps a mushroom was a better, cleaner choice. :)

        PS – I’ll concede that your Nikon kicks my Olympus’ butt for macros.

  3. Sounds like you had a great hike :) We have monitor lizards here as well, and they can get huge! You’re inspiring me to try and get away from the computer more at the moment, things are crazy at the moment but I need to recharge.

  4. Lovely story! Very well written. I love the idea of the jungle being a big salad. But you were apparently the bug’s Thanksgiving dinner. (Does Thanksgiving translate to Canada?)

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