When you’re on the ascent of Mount Kinabalu, it can seem like time stands still. That whole one step forward, two steps back thing. Your guide says there is just ten minutes to go, but you’re sure your watch says that was 18 minutes ago. Or 48 minutes ago. Time takes on a whole new meaning—and not in a good way.
Hammock out of shot. Photo: Sally Arnold.
You might not know this, but in the shadow of Mount Kinabalu lies a place where time takes on an entirely new meaning. Where time stands still, but in a good way. So much so, the name of the place is Lupa Masa “forget time” in Malay. And after a Kinabalu ascent, you’ll be wanting to forget time for a while.
Lupa Masa* is a jungle hideout, roughly a 45 minute trek from near the entrance to Poring Hot Springs (map link) in Sabah. Maybe sooth your feet at Poring before the walk.
Jungle nightlife is limited. Photo: Sally Arnold.
My instructions are brief and vague—as befits a jungle hideout. “Get to Poring and on the right there is a laundry shop, ask there for more information.” That is it.
Once gathered, the “more information” bit is: “Walk down the road, take the trail and just keep going.”
So I do.
The river at the base of Lupa Masa. Look at that water! Photo: Sally Arnold.
The forest envelops me. There’s no signage and the trail, while clear, is not worn nor rutted. The canopy thickens, the (few) sounds of Poring fade, replaced by birds and the faint sound of a river.
I reach a fallen, sodden tree blocking the path. I see the rotting bark is scuffed by trekking boots, so I know at least I’m heading in the right direction. The sound of the river gets louder, then I realise I’m standing above a small waterfall. It ditches into a narrow charcoal stone crevice and I think it must be beautiful from below. The trail continues, I leave the waterfall behind me.
The humidity is punishing. I’ve only been walking thirty minutes and I’m drenched—as sodden as the trunk I just climbed over. Then the forest eases, the trail curls around to the right, and I’m there. Alone.
Be sure to zip up that sleeping bag at night. Photo: Sally Arnold.
Ramshackle doesn’t come close to capturing first impressions. I think “Wow if I ever ran a guesthouse, this is how it would look”. This is not a compliment. There is a slapped together common area, and a deck out back. I walk out to the deck and I feel like I’m standing in the forest canopy.
I drop my bag where I’m standing and just breath (well, pant to be honest) and soak it up. The humidity is killing me, so I strip off my shirt. The air is so still I can feel the sweat beading then running down my back. The air might be still, but it is far from silent.
More of the river and forest. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
The river is there, birdsong, a gust of wind rustles in the canopy. Then I look to the right and there is a hammock.
Perfection.
Lupa Masa describes itself as a “rainforest camp”. The concept is, you live in the jungle and perhaps just chill on the veranda in (my) hammock. Or go trekking. Or night wildlife spotting. Or learn jungle survival skills. Or go swim in the waterfall (take my word for it, it is freezing). Or all the above.
Or none.
Regardless of what you choose to do, what is important is that you forget about time while you do it. It is surprising just how easy this is to do.
Accommodation is rudimentary. Some opt for tents. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
By the time two other guests appear I’ve been in the hammock two hours. It feels like thirty minutes.
“Oh hello” one says, “are you new or do you work here? We’ve just been swimming in the river and saw a monkey thing, do you know what it is?”
Seeing my blank stare, they continue “You don’t work here do you? Here, get out of the bleedin’ hammock and we’ll show you how this place works—it is grand.”
Feeling like I’m in their hammock, I sheepishly get out and ask how long they’ve been here.
There are plenty of critters. Photo: Sally Arnold.
“Oh I don’t know. Jess, how long has it been? A week?,” Jess shrugs her shoulders. Then they both turn to me, as if they’re inviting me into a secret club;
“Do you know what Lupa Masa means?”
* On finishing writing this, I went to check Lupa Masa’s contact details and discovered they closed in January. Sadly for good it seems. Maybe they’ll re–open—you have time right?!
Disclosure: Lupa Masa was started by a couple of friends of mine.
Couchfish Diversion 7: Forget time at Lupa Masa, Malaysia