Zamboanga, on the southern tip of the Philippines, is difficult to leave.
This is partly because it has charm
and partly because the sailing schedules are completely unreliable.
After several days of delay, we are booked aboard the Danica Joy, bound for Borneo.
Her bigger sister ship should do this run, but she's laid up after a fire in the engine room.
Still, beggars can't be choosers.
Political tension between the Philippines and Malaysia meant until a year ago
there was no passenger service across these seas at all.
I'm sorry to be leaving Zamboanga - not just because it's a very friendly, hospitable city,
but because I'm leaving it via the Sulu Sea, which has a fearsome reputation.
The Sulu Sea is a frontier not just between the Philippines and Malaysia,
but between Christians and Muslims.
They've been fighting over this area for 400 years and it's still going on.
In the paper yesterday, there were three incidents provoked by Muslim-Christian tension.
Add its reputation for piracy and smuggling and... actually, I'm quite looking forward to it!
There are no real grounds for my optimism.
This is the dangerous end of the Philippines.
Islamic terrorists are active. Foreigners are warned to stay clear of the offshore islands.
There we are. I just?
I'm watched every inch of the way on board.
Sure, yeah. Passenger, traveller. Moving on.
Thank you.
The head of the shipping line greets me.
You're the boss!
Is it me or is his smile a little nervous?
- Full ship, is it? - Yeah, yeah.
The Filipinos love families and they love farewells.
A departure is never something to be taken for granted. It's always an event.
Amazingly enough, some of the other ferries make our old tub look smart.
It is, as the owner confirmed, a very full ship.
I find myself a peaceful spot, complete with local alarm clock.
(COCK CROWS)
Most of my human fellow passengers are Filipinos going abroad
to look for jobs not available in the country they're leaving.
0n the horizon, I can make out the islands that travellers are warned to steer clear of.
They run in a line across the Sulu Sea.
They provide shelter for pirates and resistance groups and mark our south-western course
to Sandakan in the state of Sabah on the island of Borneo.
The Danica Joy was originally built for placid inland waters.
As the wind builds up on the open sea, she begins to roll and pitch like a drunk.
(RAPID GUNFIRE ON TV)
There isn't a lot you can do to take your mind off it - except watching violent kung fu videos
or curling up and trying to sleep.
(RAPID GUNFIRE ON TV)
Being somewhat cowardly, I make for the bridge to reassure myself that we're in good hands.
Is it OK if I come in? Just to have a look and see where we're going, how fast we're going.
When we're going to get there.
Indications are not promising. There's not a uniform to be seen.
I ask some searching questions.
- So we're going... - Two five-zero.
- Course five-zero. - Right.
- This ship, I notice these are all in Japanese. - Yes.
- It's a Japanese ship. Is it easy to steer? - It's easy, it's easy.
You seem awfully young. Excuse my asking. How old are you?
I'm 21. Only apprentice.
- Apprentice. - Apprentice, apprentice.
Apprentice to who? Who's in charge?
- That's our chief here. - Ah, you're the chief officer.
- So you're learning. - Yeah, yeah.
When will you... How's he getting on?
He has been to school three years.
He will be on board one year to finish. It's four years' course.
Night falls.
Fortunately, there's no queue for the bathroom.
(GUNSHOT ON TV)
Then it's either more video nasties or bed.
That is, if I can find it.
Next morning, the good news. My first sight of Borneo.
The skyline of Sandakan exudes an air of prosperity
we never saw in Zamboanga.
We take a bus south across the island,
but it's the monsoon season and progress is slow.
Walking isn't any easier.
- (WOMAN) You are tall, so at least... - Not tall enough. It's going into my boots!
- I'm concerned about snakes... - (MICHAEL) What?
Snakes, because normally the ground-dwellers, like snakes, scorpions and so on,
they would all be floating up.
Keep your fingers crossed that we don't come across any of them.
(MICHAEL) I'll keep everything crossed!
- How long has it been raining for? 24 hours. - (WOMAN) Almost.
This is the pathway to one of the world's very few orang-utan rehabilitation centres.
When the rainforest was plundered for timber,
many of these orang-utan were taken out of the forest and sold as domestic pets.
- A much older female. - Slightly different technique.
Different technique.
They're now an endangered species.
This centre has been slowly teaching tame animals to be wild again.
(WOMAN) She's pregnant.
You can see the genital swell.
That's the only way to detect.
So probably from a wild male.
- (MICHAEL) So that's good news for you. - It's good news.
(WOMAN) I think I'm going to be a grandmother now!
- What are they eating? - Bananas. I think that's their normal menu.
- How long is the gestation period? - Eight and a half to nine months.
- Like a human. - Almost like a human.
As Sylvia, my guide, tells me, orang-utans normally live high in the trees.
This rope that leads to their man-made feeding platform
is the orang-utan equivalent of a wheelchair.
(SYLVIA) Most have been used to humans. To take that away from them is the difficult part.
What the centre is trying to do here is very different from what the zoo does.
The zoo sort of like... Wild animals are made to be tame, but the centre here...
- In reverse. - It's the reverse.
- That's much more difficult. - Are they still coming in from people?
Right now, it's not so much people keeping them as pets, but they come from disturbed areas.
- Land that's going to be cleared or? - Yes.
When they go, do you see where they're going to?
No. It stops when an individual has been reintroduced. Our job stops.
As long as the centre survives, the orang-utans and this stretch of rainforest are safe.
Borneo is our stepping stone between the Philippines and Java.
It's divided between three countries - Indonesia has the south and east,
Malaysia, the north and west, which it shares with Brunei.
The jewel of the Malaysian west coast is the city of Kuching, capital of Sarawak.
Kuching has a quietly affluent air.
It's an Asian-Pacific crossroads,
bringing together Chinese, Indians, Malays and local tribes in apparent harmony.
It was run by the British for over 100 years.
It was they who created the racial mix still evident in quite unusual ways.
Like this Indian healer with a great cabaret act.
Don't try this at home.
A short walk from the bazaars, I come across a passable imitation of Henley Regatta.
That is until I look a little more closely.
These are descendants of the Dayak warriors,
whose war canoes terrorised the coast until the British got here and told them about regattas.
(DRUMS BEATING)
For the British, it was quite a successful move.
I can't see these people terrorising anybody.
It wasn't the British government which created all this, but a family called Brooke from Bath.
In 1841, they bought Sarawak off a local sultan
and ran it until the Japanese invaded 100 years later.
Stephen Yong, a former minister, shows me round the Istana,
official residence of the family who built Somerset on the Sarawak River
and called themselves the White Rajahs.
From here Charles Brooke, the second rajah, ruled for 50 years.
(STEPHEN) He regarded all his subjects as his children. He never encouraged higher education.
He had the idea of "ignorance is bliss".
He drew the line at head-hunting, didn't he?
Head-hunting is one of the crimes which the rajah introduced,
much against the tradition of the Ibans.
An Iban was taught that head-hunting was one of their... ways of life.
- Um... but... - What was the penalty for head-hunting?
Head-hunters normally would be executed.
- Beheaded, probably! - Yes.
Head-hunters would've lost their heads at Fort Margherita, named after Brooke's wife.
The Brookes' legacy lies in buildings like this, another of the great post offices of the world.
0r these law courts.
And perhaps, most poignantly, in the single surviving public likeness of Rajah Brooke,
dressed in the style of the people he ruled for so long.
It's quite difficult to get round Borneo by road, largely because they tend not to exist.
The pattern of life here still revolves around the rivers
which run from the interior down to the ports.
I'm doing it the other way round - going from Kuching upriver towards the mountains,
to spend a few days with the Iban people at one of their longhouses,
which certainly, for me, is a journey into the unknown.
It'll take the best part of a day to make our way upriver almost as far as the Indonesian border.
As the rainforest closes in to become jungle,
the rivers grow narrower and shallower.
We're on the edge of the great, inhospitable heart of Borneo,
one of the secret places of the world.
Without the help of the local people, it would be hard to find our way in or out of here.
The Iban live on the rivers, which they navigate with skill and prodigious physical effort.
Nevertheless, this is as far upstream as we can go.
We've reached the village of Nanga Sumpa.
The centre of the community and heart of their nomadic culture is the longhouse.
This one has been here all of 12 years - making it almost an ancient monument.
It's a 28-door longhouse, meaning 28 families share it.
Money and food are not shared, but the large open spaces such as this are communal.
Many of the elders are profusely decorated.
Hello. Morning.
Just admiring your tattoos.
Emong.
I was just... I was just admiring these. What are they meant to be, first of all?
(TRANSLATES)
(EMONG) This is... creeper.
(MICHAEL) Yeah, creeper. How would it be done?
(THEY SPEAK IBAN)
(EMONG) How do you call it? Soot? (MICHAEL) Soot.
They mix it with...
(SPEAKS IBAN)
They mix it with sugar-cane juice and then they use a pin to get it in there.
(MICHAEL) They just jab it in.
- Does it hurt? - (TRANSLATES)
- (MAN ANSWERS) - Yes, it's quite painful.
I got that. Hurt like hell, he said.
- Have you got any? - I don't.
Just on your T-shirt.
It's not the same. Weed.
The Iban are not isolated. The young men are encouraged to travel.
These woven blankets are quite likely to end up in Los Angeles or London.
There's little mistrust of the outside world. They're curious about our curiosity.
You can get your finger through it. It's always useful, to get your finger through your ear.
Hope I live to be as old as you and look as well.
I asked the headman and another elder, both in their 80s, about the issue of head-hunting.
What was the importance of having a head? What was the value of the head?
(THEY SPEAK IBAN)
They said, not really.
It's just chopping people's head, take it back, and smoke the head
and keep it to show the whole people how brave they are.
- So it's just how many people you can clobber? - Yeah.
And after that, they have to celebrate Kenyalang festival,
which means hornbilll festival, to ask for a longer life.
They ask for longer life from God, or else they have a short life, if you don't celebrate.
They pray for the people whose heads they've chopped off?
- Yeah. - (MAN SPEAKS IBAN)
He said today is very good. Today there is no more fighting.
So he said that is very good.
The other thing that's very good is that I've discovered the bathroom.
There are one or two fewer pigs around this morning.
There is to be a feast.
It's to be held in honour of the visit of a famous government minister.
I'm looking forward to seeing him.
If he doesn't come, then I, as second most important visitor,
have been asked to kill the ceremonial pig.
0n another fire, rice is pressure-cooked inside branches of bamboo.
I breathe a huge sigh of relief when the top man's canoe is at last sighted.
The top man is James Masing, the minister of tourism.
He's the first Iban ever to hold such a high office.
Some politicians have to kiss babies,
but if you want to win votes in Sarawak, a passing knowledge of butchery is more useful.
After a word with the spin doctor, the minister prepares to do what a minister has to do.
(PIG SQUEALS)
Between ceremonial duties, he seems happy to talk.
You were born and brought up in a longhouse. How similar was it to this one here?
What are your memories of longhouse life?
Yeah, I was born in a longhouse in another part of Sarawak.
My memories are very good. I have very fond memories of my childhood.
I spent the first six years actually living in a longhouse.
After that, I went to boarding school.
I think this longhouse we are looking into now
is one of the most traditional longhouses that you can get in Sarawak.
My feeling is that not many of them are left.
The longhouse structures are still there throughout Sarawak,
but the design's slightly different and the wood they use is slightly different.
A more modern design, but still the longhouse structure.
So what you're seeing now is one of the very few left.
(MICHAEL) What are the religious beliefs?
The Iban - people call them animist. They practise animism.
They believe that every living thing has spirit.
Animals have spirit, trees have spirit, the rivers have spirit.
So that because of that, before you clear a farm, for instance,
you do an offering to pacify whatever spirit there is. So that is an Iban belief.
(MICHAEL) The passing of a white cockerel back and forth is believed to pacify the spirits.
So before the eating and drinking can begin, the minister must do the honours.
(CHANTS IN IBAN)
To be honest, the drinking has already started - around breakfast time.
The Iban love contests - like this hard, fast drumming round
in which the first one to lose the beat is out.
In fact, Iban hospitality itself is a contest.
It's the host's duty to provide far more food and drink than the guests need.
(EXCITED CHATTER)
I've seen this being prepared lovingly all day long. Thank you.
And it's the duty of the guests to polish it all off without falling over.
And a little bit of fish.
Yeah, it is good.
Thank you.
There's some bits there. Some choice bits.
Like some?
Everything is done in a most egalitarian atmosphere.
In Iban society, everyone, whatever their rank or status, sits down together.
(METALLIC DRUMMING)
I wonder what sort of place there will be for this pleasure-loving, unauthoritarian people
in the stern, purposeful, industrialised new Malaysia.
600 miles due south of Borneo, I'm across the equator and into the southern hemisphere.
Java is one of a chain of Indonesian islands.
I hope to find a sailing ship to take me through them and on to Australia.
I'm driving across Java in the company of Eko Binarso,
a trekking and mountain guide.
It's the start of Ramadan, the Muslim month of fasting and self-restraint.
Jakarta, largest city in the southern hemisphere, is hot, wet and quiet.
0ur plan is to drive the length of the island to the port of Surabaya.
The road soon winds up into foothills and as cool and moderate a climate as back home.
In fact, I'm dying for a cuppa.
Eko says he knows just the place.
This is the Gunung Mas tea plantation.
Hello.
- After you! - Sorry. Hello.
Michael. Can you tell me what's going on here? These are obviously the teas.
- When were they picked? - This is the tea produced today.
- This is to test the quality. - They're being tested for quality.
How can you tell a good-quality tea?
The good quality, for example... We test the appearance.
- There is the particle. Is it clean or not? - Particles.
- Size of particle. - Yeah.
Second, we test the smell.
What do you do with these? Do you pour hot water through them?
For the testing, water... This is water from here.
Oh, I see, yeah. Can I have a little sniff? Yeah.
The smell. And the good tea smells... this. Um... the same.
- What's a good smell? - Good smell. The good tea is the good smell.
- Is it strong? Is that what you're looking for? - Yeah, strong.
- And then the taste. We taste the tea. - Can I try and taste some myself?
- So which should I taste? Which is a good one? - Good one.
This one here? Just take a little bit, rather like soup.
(MAN SLURPS) You must shoot.
(MICHAEL SLURPS)
(MICHEL) Try a bit more.
(MICHAEL SLURPS)
(MAN) Yeah, that's good.
Oops. I've swallowed it! Lovely cup of tea.
(MALE GR0UP) # I love coffee, I love tea
# I love a java jive... #
The tea pickers look serene - effortlessly bored with the job. In fact, they're experts.
# A cuppa, cuppa, cuppa, cuppa, cuppa
# I love java, sweet and hot
# 0ops, Mr Moto, I'm a coffee pot
# Shoot me the pot and I'll pour me a shot
# A cuppa, cuppa, cuppa, cuppa, cuppa #
It looks easy enough, but it is quite a skill.
You've got to get these little top bits. I've noticed the way they're doing it.
Anything lower down doesn't taste very nice.
These little succulent tips are the ones you have to get.
Custom-made shears - very nice. I don't think you can get these at home.
They have to be bought here in Java.
And I presume the more little succulent tips you get...
...the more you get paid.
Do you get a bonus for, you know, getting the best?
- (WOMAN) Yes. - Yes? Good. Well, I'll stay here a while, then.
There's one.
I do look a bit like a butterfly collector.
There we are. Ah! There's one.
- There's a cup of tea! Ahhhh! - (WOMEN LAUGH)
# Coffee, tea, and the java and me
# A cuppa, cuppa, cuppa, cup... #
Java is the mostly densely populated island in the world.
110 million people live in an area the size of England.
Increasing affluence is bringing increasing traffic to roads never much wider than this.
As the road system is largely free from motorways,
so much of the countryside is free from huge farms and agri-business.
This warm, wet land is still farmed by local people with incredible delicacy and precision.
It's tempting to stop in every valley and village, but we have a tight schedule.
I insist we only stop if Eko sees something I really mustn't miss.
Just outside Yogyakarta he spots something.
It's a fruit that, despite its startlingly foul odour,
is one of South-East Asia's most sought-after delicacies.
Can I have a look at one?
The famous durian fruit which is so smelly that they won't allow it on aeroplanes.
I saw a hotel the other day that said, "No durian fruit allowed on the premises."
- Apparently it tastes good, does it? - Yeah.
Can I smell it?
Oh, yeah, it smells pretty rich. Now, how do you eat it?
They will open it.
- You can... - Yeah. Pretty strong.
Soft like banana. Well, this is a first. You don't see durian-tasting often.
Are you going to have some, as well?
I'll 'ave some if you 'ave some, Eko.
- OK, here we go. - One, two, three.
- Yummy. - Mm. Oh, God.
That is a very strange taste, isn't it?
I really can't describe it. The first taste is a bit nauseating, I have to say.
- Yeah. - It does make me feel sick, the very first taste.
- What about the second? - I haven't been sick, so I feel more confident.
I know it makes a terrible smell wherever it's stored, but do people really prize it?
- Yeah. - So it's quite expensive.
- The price also depends on the smell. - It's like a rich custard.
Like rich, smelly custard with a bit of sort of burnt rubber tyre in it.
One each.
The main road winds on deeper into the heartland.
It's impossible to hurry, but that doesn't stop people trying.
(BEEPS HORN)
The row of volcanoes that forms the backbone of Java is never far away.
I feel they're benevolent - guardians keeping an eye on us at the end of a long day.
They call Yogyakarta the cultural capital of Java.
It's a bit of several cultures - Dutch colonial buildings
and a street named after the British Duke of Marlborough.
We've been asked to a private home to hear some gamelan music
and watch the puppet show that goes with it.
- A fighting scene. This is hitting. - Yeah.
You're moving both arms as you do that as well.
How many different puppets would you use in a story like that?
Say, in one night, at least 35 to 40 puppets.
- In one night. Usually. - Really?
At least 35 voices.
- Male and female voices? - Yes.
Like this, for example.
(SPEAKS INDONESIAN)
For example.
(SPEAKS INDONESIAN)
Something like that.
Has it sort of been affected by the age of television?
Has television kept people away from the puppet shows?
Some people say so,
but now there is a private television
which broadcasts the wayang kulit every Saturday night.
So they haven't beaten them, they've joined them. They've got their own puppet channel.
Wayang kulit, as they call the puppet show, is not for the faint-hearted.
Loosely based on the great Indian epics, a full-length performance lasts eight hours.
The puppet master works without a break to bring 40 or 50 different characters to life,
accompanied by the soft, strange tinklings of the gamelan orchestra.
(EERIE, TINKLING MUSIC)
Soon my brain falls into a trance-like state, from which it is only rescued by a full-scale battle.
(MUSIC JANGLES)
With its in-jokes and subversive references,
many Javanese regard wayang kulit as essential viewing...
...and children still grow up wanting to be puppet masters.
A little way off the road out of Yogyakarta is one of the world's great monuments.
It's enormous, yet easy to miss,
squatting amongst fields and coconut groves like a half-finished mountain.
This is the Buddhist temple of Borobudur, built in 800AD
and rediscovered 1,000 years later half submerged in volcanic ash.
Borobudur represents the cosmos - a model of the universe set in stone.
We have to walk round all these levels. Follow Buddha's progress.
What's happening along here? They all look rather sort of... slightly racy things going on.
The terraces form a path to enlightenment that runs around the monument
for a distance of almost two miles.
The relief panels show details of the Buddha's journey,
complete with setbacks and seductions.
(MICHAEL)... 99... 100.
- 60 more. - 60 more?
- (MICHAEL) Is this still the story? - Still the story of Ramayana.
- Where are we now? - We are on the third level.
- You are almost in heaven now. - The lotus position.
300 years ago, Islam swept into Java and the Buddhists retreated.
(MICHAEL) Our search for enlightenment.
As I've already found on other sacred mountains of Asia,
enlightenment requires effort.
It's only when you get to the top that you're aware of the location of this place,
the plain with a circle of volcanoes all around.
Was that intended?
Borobudur was built just absolutely at the centre of the area,
surrounded by five mountains.
(MICHAEL) So it's significant where we are -
in the centre of the temple, in the centre of the mountains, in the centre of the universe?
- Yes, of course. - OK.
- Centre of galaxy. - Yeah.
Well, I think we deserve a drink.
Sorry.
- You are the guide. You brought me here. - You first.
- No. - OK.
Whisky, please!
Not far from Borobudur is a thousand-year-old Hindu temple,
another man-made image of that key to life and death on Java - the volcano.
- It's hot today, Eko. - Are you ready for climbing, Mike?
Yeah, yeah. Anything to get off this road, I tell you.
Eko is determined that I should climb a volcano, preferably one that's still active.
He suggests Mount Bromo. He says it's just round the corner.
Eventually we find the turn-off and begin the long climb towards Bromo.
Farming is precarious here - in every sense of the word.
The locals are descended from Hindus
who were pushed to this far end of the island by the Islamic conquest.
Surprisingly for the tropics, they can grow crops like cabbages, onions and leeks.
To my great relief, another long day on the road ends, successfully,
at the door of Mount Bromo's only hotel.
- Ready for the horse? - I'm ready. I haven't ridden for a while, but...
Let's see.
That's good.
(MICHAEL GROANS)
Why do we have to start at this extraordinary hour of the night?
- (EKO) Let's go, Mike. - It's 3.30.
On a horse for the first time in 20 years!
- How far do we have to go, Eko? - It's about three kilometres.
Three kilometres. We're going down into the crater?
Yeah.
The great thing is it's a clear night.
Fingers crossed.
- It looks as though it could be a good sunrise. - Yeah, I hope. Looks like.
How long, do you reckon? An hour?
- Looks like the end of the trail. - Yeah.
- Where do we go now? We walk from here? - Yeah. We're going up steps.
Right.
(MICHAEL SIGHS) OK.
Thank you, faithful steed.
OK?
- I'll get on your back now and you can take me... - (EKO LAUGHS) No way!
The journey has been worth all the effort.
The dawn light reveals an extraordinary landscape -
oven fresh and still steaming.
When did this blow? When was this hole made? How recently?
- A hundred years ago. - A hundred years ago? So it was that new.
- Very new landscape, isn't it? - Yeah.
Presumably, what we're seeing now, that means it's still active, there's still energy under there.
- Could it blow again? Has it erupted since? - Oh, yeah.
The last eruption is... last year, October.
- Last October? - Yeah. They closed the area.
- For visitors, tourists. Horse. - Yeah.
I think we should go back, Eko. I think we should leg it. Come on!
We've reached Surabaya, where they moor the pinisis,
the boats that still carry most of the trade between the islands.
Now we must find one going our way.
- Do you want to go to Timor or Lombok? - Lombok, Lombok.
OK, we'll try down here.
I'm still hopeful. The boats remind me of the dhows of the Persian Gulf.
There's the same sense of family loyalties and local skills operating outside the normal system.
But there are problems.
We're in trouble here because none of them will take us.
None of them will take us east towards Lombok and Timor,
the direction we want to go towards Darwin.
They say at this time of year the weather is bad. It's too dangerous to go.
So... we have found one which will take us tomorrow morning
towards the end of the island of Java.
We'll just have to try and get somewhere on through the islands from there.
This is as far as we go, Eko. Goodbye. Goodbye, but I'll see you again sometime.
Thanks very much indeed. I really appreciate your help and patience.
I'll send you a card from Darwin, if I ever get there.
- (EKO) Bye. - Bye.
We leave Surabaya not quite sure where we're going and how we'll get there.
For a while, it all seems to be going so well.
With sails hoisted and a fair wind, we make our way majestically southwards.
The inescapable reality is that our ship cannot risk the open sea with monsoon winds about.
But if we stay inshore, the wind gets weaker and the sea gets shallower.
After less than a day's sailing, our captain has no choice but to arrange for local fishermen
to take us off the boat and ashore.
I don't like having to abandon ship.
It's the first major setback since we missed our Coast Guard flight in Alaska.
But we survived that and I'm sure we'll survive this.
- (ENGINE SPLUTTERS) - Well, I think I'm sure.
(ENGINE RUNS NOISILY)
Wherever this village is, they seem very friendly.
In fact, our arrival feels like a homecoming - as if we've just been round the world.
I daren't tell them we only left Surabaya this morning.
I wish there were another way of looking at it, but there isn't.
After 17,000 miles of travel, we're up the creek.
Thanks for getting me to wherever I am, wherever it is. Cheers, guys.