Into the Green Heart of Borneo
深入婆羅洲的綠色心臟
Kota Kinabalu 哥打京那巴魯 → Pulau Gaya 嘉亞島 → Tunku Abdul Rahman Park 東姑阿都拉曼海洋公園 → Mount Kinabalu 京那巴魯山 → Tawau 斗湖 → Betung Kerihun National Park 倍吞克里渾國家公園
Borneo 婆羅洲 is the world’s third-largest island, surpassed only by Greenland 格陵蘭 and New Guinea 新幾內亞, and the largest island in Asia. Covering approximately 748,000 square kilometres, it is shared by three nations: Indonesia 印尼, Malaysia 馬來西亞, and Brunei 汶萊.
My journey began in Kota Kinabalu 哥打京那巴魯, the lively coastal gateway to Malaysian Borneo. The city faced the South China Sea 南中國海, with fishing boats resting upon blue water and evening clouds gathering like purple mountains along the horizon.
From the shore, I crossed to Pulau Gaya 嘉亞島, the largest island in Tunku Abdul Rahman Park 東姑阿都拉曼海洋公園. The sea changed from sapphire to translucent jade as we approached. Beneath the surface, coral reefs 珊瑚礁 sheltered brightly coloured tropical fish; above them, white beaches curved beneath coconut palms and dense coastal forest.
There I came upon a great monitor lizard 巨蜥. It moved heavily yet silently across the earth, its long tail sweeping behind it and its forked tongue tasting the air. For a moment, it seemed less like an ordinary animal than a small surviving dragon—an ancient creature emerging from the island’s prehistoric past.
Around us, other wonders might appear without warning: a hornbill 犀鳥 beating its enormous wings above the canopy, a macaque 獼猴 watching cautiously from a branch, or a brilliant kingfisher 翠鳥 flashing across the water like a flying jewel. At dusk, enormous flying foxes 大型果蝠 might leave the trees, opening their dark wings against the fading sky.
From the islands, I turned inland towards Mount Kinabalu 京那巴魯山. Rising to 4,095.2 metres, it is Malaysia’s highest mountain and the loftiest peak between the Himalayas and New Guinea. Its granite summit towered over the rainforest like a vast stone citadel. Sabah Parks
The higher I looked, the more the forest appeared to climb into heaven. The bare granite peaks emerged above the clouds, austere and timeless, while the valleys below remained wrapped in green mystery. Mount Kinabalu seemed to stand between two worlds—the tropical earth beneath and the celestial silence above.
My journey continued to Tawau 斗湖, in southeastern Sabah, where plantations, mangroves and rainforest stretched towards the Indonesian frontier. The warm air carried the mingled fragrances of wet earth, tropical fruit and spice. Here, nature did not merely surround human life; it seemed always ready to reclaim it.
From Malaysian Borneo, the journey reached far across the island into West Kalimantan 西加里曼丹, Indonesia, where Betung Kerihun National Park 倍吞克里渾國家公園 protects an immense wilderness beside the Malaysian border.
This was the true green heart of Borneo.
Deep within the forest lived the gentle Bornean orangutan 婆羅洲紅毛猩猩. Its Malay name, orang hutan, means “person of the forest 森林之人.” High above the ground, an orangutan might move slowly between branches, its reddish hair catching a shaft of sunlight before disappearing again into the foliage.
The park is also habitat for Müller’s Bornean gibbon 穆勒氏婆羅洲長臂猿, several other primates, hundreds of bird species, reptiles, amphibians and countless creatures still concealed within the forest.
At dawn, the haunting songs of gibbons 長臂猿 might travel from ridge to ridge—voices rising and falling like an invisible forest choir. Proboscis monkeys 長鼻猴 could gather beside the rivers, while hornbills crossed the sky overhead. Hidden in the shadows were rarer creatures: the tiny tarsier 眼鏡猴, the nocturnal slow loris 懶猴, the elusive clouded leopard 雲豹, and the extraordinary sun bear 馬來熊, the smallest bear in the world.
When tropical rain arrived, it did not fall timidly. It swept across the canopy like an approaching army, beating upon millions of leaves until the entire forest became one immense instrument. Then, almost as suddenly, it ceased. Mist rose from the ground, drops of water glittered on every branch, and the wilderness began breathing again.
I also encountered the living culture of the island’s Indigenous Dayak 達雅族 communities. Their traditional longhouses 長屋, built communally above the earth, reflected a way of life shaped by forest, river and ancestral memory. Here, hospitality survived despite isolation, and old stories were still passed from one generation to the next.
