Beyond a curve on the Telok Delima trail, the forest of Bako National Park seems to inhale — its trees closing in, shadows lengthening, and the humid breath of the tropics thickening in the air. Here, time slows under a canopy of green, offering nature lovers a rare space of movement and stillness, where observation deepens into reverence.
Bako, Sarawak’s oldest national park, lies on the northern coast of Borneo at the edge of the South China Sea. Though modest in size at just 27 square kilometers, it showcases nearly every major habitat found on the island. From mangrove forests and peat swamps to coastal cliffs and lowland streams, the park unfolds like a living tapestry of Bornean biodiversity.
Access to the park begins in Kampung Bako, with a 20-minute boat ride across the estuary. The journey is typically tranquil, interrupted only by the calls of macaques and the rhythm of water slapping against fibreglass hulls. As the boat approaches shore, the landscape sharpens into view — sea stacks rise like the remnants of a colossal skeleton, and the jungle begins at the water’s edge, beckoning visitors into its depths.
Bako is a place without roads, navigated entirely through a network of 16 trails that crisscross its interior. Each path offers a unique experience of the park’s varied terrain. The Lintang Loop, one of the most expansive, takes hikers through swamps, scrublands, and elevated ridges. Trail markers may guide the way, but it is often the forest itself that becomes the guide — its sounds, scents, and shadows setting the pace.
Throughout the park, nature reveals itself in quiet yet unforgettable ways. In the mangroves, long-tailed macaques leap from root to root with acrobatic ease, while high above, proboscis monkeys rest languidly, their swollen bellies evidence of their leaf-heavy diets. Their distinctive noses give them a solemn, almost comical dignity, suggesting the weight of evolution itself.
Predators lie hidden too, their beauty matched by danger. The green pit viper coils in perfect silence, its presence a vivid reminder that even stillness can strike.
Bako is not only a refuge for animals but also a laboratory for plant life. Along the sun-scorched Bukit Gondol trail, vegetation transforms into resilient scrub. Here, pitcher plants — rust-colored and carnivorous — thrive in nutrient-poor soil by trapping and digesting insects. In wetter areas, ferns unfurl beside gentle streams, and pandanus leaves sway like weathered fans over the trails. The scent of damp wood and stained bark fills the air as the forest shifts once again.
The park delivers constant reminders of its untamed nature. Visitors are cautioned that even the seemingly placid estuarine waters may conceal silent threats. Each step can lead to either silence or surprise — the rustle of an unseen animal, the flash of a kingfisher’s wing, the sudden splash of movement in the underbrush.
By late afternoon, golden light filters through the canopy. The trail to Telok Pandan Kecil ends atop a cliff, revealing a secluded cove below where the sea gleams like polished brass. Towering rock walls frame the scene, their surfaces weathered by age and lichen, while the sounds of wind and tide echo in the stillness.
What Bako lacks in size or altitude, it more than compensates for in detail. From the twisted roots of strangler figs to the cautious gaze of bearded pigs foraging in leaf litter, every inch of the park is alive with intent. Tropical birds and proboscis monkeys often appear near the wooden boardwalk, rewarding quiet watchers with moments of discovery.
As night falls, the forest dims in gentle waves. Frogs begin their evening chorus, and fireflies spark to life in the darkening undergrowth. With the last boat departed, those who remain experience the rare privilege of an overnight stay in the jungle — a humbling immersion into a world where humans are merely another presence among the wild.
In Bako, the wilderness is not a place to conquer, but one to witness — intimate, intricate, and enduring.
