Show me the way home …
LAST Sunday, Auntie Di and I decided to explore the Nonok (oops Asajaya!) Peninsula, east of Kuching. We have been there several times before; this time we wanted to see and drive on the new bridge across the Sadong River.
We started soon after eight in the morning. What a fine morning it was – the sky was blue and the air was fresh. From our place we took the Samarahan way – passing by several roundabouts before turning east.
Sarawak roundabouts must be among the largest in the world. On the left is the junction to the Pusat Jantung (literally Centre of the Heart), not seen from the road. There’s the new luxurious Home for the Aged called Eden On The Park, part of which is still under construction. Then the entrance to the campus of Universiti Malaysia Sarawak (Unimas) and the golf course, of course. To our left and right are lots of new homes and shop lots; more structures are coming up. Turn left and there stands the landmark building – that of the Sarawak Land Consolidation and Rehabilitation Authority. Looking at it with a lump in my throat, I remember seeking approval in 1974 from the then Chief Minister Tun Abdul Rahman Yakub, to create a statutory body to develop Native Customary Rights land for plantation crops.
But back to our travels. We were heading for the new Sadong Bridge, which is near Sungai Buloh – but is there anything like a road sign to point travellers unfamiliar with the region in the right direction? No way. If you’re local, you know. If you’re not, bad luck!
I am local enough to know my way around there, so we chose the inland route to avoid having to queue at the ferry point at Muara Tuang. On a Sunday there can be a long queue and the waiting is quite tedious.
We passed familiar villages and turn-offs to Meranek, Impila, Sambir, Tambe, and Tambirat. The vegetation isn’t exactly exciting, mainly oil palm nowadays. That part of the peninsula was famous for citrus (sweet mandarin), coconuts, yams, bananas and kacang bendi (kacang lendir) or okra. Where were the oranges?
Nonok is now called Pasar Asajaya with deference to our West Malaysian friends, who object to the name Nonok. Not much remains of the old wooden bazaar, just a couple or rickety bridges, but the new bazaar is all right. Its shops are well stocked, and we found a tasty breakfast.
I couldn’t find the site of the old police station. My late brother was on relief duty at the station in December, 1951. I spent a couple of nights at the station while waiting for a Chinese boat to take me back to Kuching by sea. There was no motorable road to and from Nonok then.
This peninsula was a notorious nest of communist terrorists in the early years of Malaysia. Many lives were lost and arrests made during this period. But let us leave this episode behind for the time being. I could not wait to see the new bridge. I have enough local knowledge to know that the bridge has to be somewhere near Sungai Buloh, but is there a road sign? No way. We thought that ‘Ferry Point’ might be in the right direction, even if the road, or part of it anyway, looked more like third-class rural than famed coastal highway. The Bridge After a few wrong turns, we did get to our goal, and it certainly is a bridge! But why, in the name of progress and traffic mobility, was it built with only two lanes? The Sadong catchment area is, for Sarawak, quite densely populated; everybody and his grandmother owns a car of some sort. It wouldn’t have cost much more to build a three-lane bridge; wait a few years and it will be too narrow for daily traffic!
At the end of the bridge, four minutes by my watch and almost a mile long, there is a T-junction – the right turn leads to Simunjan. The road to Simunjan, in contrast to the Asajaya region, is very well signposted. To our surprise there were large blue signs advertising the direction to that charming riverside town, even if there were no side roads to distract the driver. In one quaint village there are two ‘Simunjan’ signs within 10 metres of each other.
Simunjan has grown a lot since the last time I was there in 1966. We only made a short stop, planning to get home before the daily rainstorm that usually kicks in at about 3.30pm or 4pm. So, follow the road sign that says ‘Kuching/Gedong’ and end up … back where you started. We did two turns around the suburbs of Simunjan, hoping against hope that the Simunjan bridge also promised on a sign post would eventually rise up before us, but we were mired in an endless labyrinth of village lanes, small houses, chickens, grandmothers, boys on bikes …
And no sign anywhere that tells you which way to turn, so you have the pleasure of ending up in a car repair shop, on a small vegetable farm, and then in a duck pond – okay, I’m exaggerating, we did not end up in a duck pond.
But finally we reached a sign that could stand for everything that’s wrong with road signage in Sarawak. This wasn’t in the village anymore, it was out in the lalang so there was nobody nearby we could have asked for directions. The sign says, quite correctly, ‘Tjunction’. There’s a T-junction, with absolutely no indication as to where either of the roads will lead. Straight ahead, a pile of gravel and then a river, so that wasn’t an option either.
On an inspiration, we turned right, and soon got to the Simunjan Bridge – another big, imposing structure with only two lanes.
What follows was ‘uneventful’ as doctors say after a really tricky operation. Between the Simunjan Bridge and Gedong there is what must be the longest straight road in Sarawak (Guinness Record fanatics, go measure it). Both sides are oil palms, oil palms, and oil palms. Once we hit that junction between that pleasant old bazaar and Triboh, we could find our way home without any problem and no more road signs were necessary.
But, bad luck for the tourist who hired a car and wanted to explore our lovely countryside. He’s probably still cruising around the outskirts of Simunjan.
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