Move into the Country, Gonna Meet a Lot of Leeches

It looked nothing like this

We were halfway through the trek when the first sign of trouble arrived. I looked down at my boot. A slug uncoiled, extended an inch and, moving like a slinky, began climbing. Flicking it off, I spotted another on my sock. As I went to launch it into jungle oblivion, it vanished through the cotton. Panicking, I pulled the sock down to find, clamped to my flesh, a leech.

Of course, we should have expected it. We were in Taman Negara, the Malaysian Rainforest. This is a proper rainforest, 110% rainforest, a rainforest's rainforest. Think intense heat, humidity you can cut with a spatula and impenetrable, root-tangled terrain inhabited by man-eaters (leopards, black panthers, tigers) and giant insects. This didn't deter me and my associate, Heseltine from heading into its depths without guide or map. We had crisps, cookies, and a litre of water - what could go wrong?

The plan was to walk along a well-known, easy-going, and supposedly signposted trail that loosely followed the Sungai Tembeling River for 10km - I mean, that's about a 3-hour walk, isn't it? - from Kuala Tahan, the biggest ‘town’ in the area, to the next village, Kuala Terrengea.

So, having booked a boat to collect us from our destination at 4 pm, we took a water taxi across the river at the crack of dawn, AKA 9 am. Then, like all the great explorers who've gone before us, we stopped at a luxury hotel for an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet.

Four plates of pancakes later, we were strolling along a wooden boardwalk that led from the hotel to the trail, bellies full, exchanging pleasantries with fellow tourists and wondering if there'd be a bar in Kuala Terrengea. At this rate, we'd be there in a couple of hours with time to kill.

Spirits were high as the boardwalk gave way to an uneven track and the foliage closed in a little. Streams crisscrossed the undulating path, vines and fallen trees had to be negotiated, and strange bird calls rang out from the dense canopy above. We ran into some of the locals: infinite inch-long ants, a giant centipede and a possibly deceased black scorpion. At this point, we realised the area was crawling with leeches.

Be prepared

It's hard to spot the bloodsuckers. They appear from nowhere. You glance down, and there’s one working its way up your shoe. While flicking it off, you spot another halfway up your sock. Once you're actively looking, you can see them reaching upwards like Mexican Wave participants from the floor as your pass overhead. Despite knowing they are they, they still manage to get 'onboard' and instinctively head for the gap between your shoe and sock.

From this point on, things went downhill, unfortunately, not literally. Coated with sweat in energy-sapping conditions and having to regularly stop and flick leeches away meant progress was slow. We were also now aware of our woefully inadequate water supplies, which were disappearing quickly. Reasoning that we MUST be halfway, we decided to push on. But the joviality was gone as we focused on conserving energy. Worryingly, we hadn't seen another person for at least three hours.

‘What if we took a wrong turn?’ Heseltine asked what we were both thinking.‘We can’t have.’ I replied, hopefully with confidence, but thinking about the numerous side trails and possible forks in the path we’d seen. Through the trees, we occasionally caught glimpses of a river, however, was it the one we were meant to be following and not a tributary?

Mouth parched, clothes saturated with sweat, mental disintegration, questioning everything. Lifting my legs to get over tree roots was now a struggle. And the last thing you want in leech country is to rake a vine down the back of your legs like I did, leaving several bloody scratches - here I am, lads!

All I could think about was water. Cold, glistening water. We had just a few drops left in our bottles. Is the river water safe to drink if we can get down there? Can you drink your own urine if necessary? What does Ray Mears say? The stack of pancakes and fry-up from the breakfast buffet was now a hazy mirage, a parallel universe.

Furthermore, the normally stoic, monosyllabic Heseltine was now talking in spaced-out tones like Ozzy Osborne on peyote. Ramblings about life, existence and re-incarnation, the heat, dehydration and desperation torturing his soul. Then, a signpost. The first we’d seen since leaving the boardwalk hours ago: 'Kuala Terrengea - 1km. Hallelujah'

Buoyed by the news, we found a burst of energy and began to march and even joke again. But fifteen minutes later, we were back at the Gates of Hell. This was the longest kilometre ever. We should be there by now, surely? Had we misread the sign? Did it even exist?

This seems like a nice place

Eventually, just as the first thought of cannibalism materialised, a simple, wooden hut appeared. Then another. And another. Humanity. Euphoria. Almost running now, the first few shacks were dilapidated and clearly uninhabited - must be the outskirts. As we headed deeper into the village, abandoned dwellings gave way to crumbling thatch structures and rotting cabins. There was certainly no bar here. Or shops selling ice-cold water. Or people. It was a ghost town. Something that the guidebook and rangers, who'd booked our return boat, failed to mention.

Our boat was due to arrive in one hour, so the 'Idiot backpackers who entered jungle with only crisps found dead' headlines were probably averted. But without water, it was going to be a torturous wait.

We sat on some steps and, in what's normally one of the great post-hike pleasures, took our boots off. That's odd, I thought, looking at my socks, which were now decorated with spots of red. Peeling them off, I watched calmly as several leeches dropped out onto the ground, bloated and swollen, unable to move. Heseltine discovered the same horrors within his footwear, and the only possible reaction was to laugh hysterically, like Skeletor.

Through the insane cackle

s... a sound, a hum, an engine, a boat engine? Then we could see it coming our way. Our return ride was early. We greeted the boatman like a God and hopped on board. He even had water for sale, at a massively inflated price, of course. This wasn't his first rodeo.

Saved and rehydrated, the journey back to base took just 15 minutes. Throughout it, we gazed silently at the jungle and the horrors that lay within.