Sarawak, land of the head-hunters of old, of tribes who moved like shadows through the dense jungle, using knife nicks on trees as a means of passing on information. Perhaps signalling direction, danger, water and other such necessities. Nowadays those tribes are identified under the umbrella name of Dayaks and form the backbone of Christianity in this land, where in fact the official religion is Islam.

And here we are, away from Kuching and living in a tree house about ten metres up in the canopy. Around us are leaves, branches and about fifty different species of trees all fighting for light. The constant noise of cicadas and the beat of the ceiling fan keep us company, along with the roar of the breaking waves of the South China Sea.

It is the monsoon season so it is very wet and we are treated to regular downpours. Walking along the path through the rainforest huge leaves drip moisture and we are wary of the carpet of mushy vegetation on either side of us. Yesterday a big monitor lizard was sunbathing at the foot of our stairs.

A large black spider had spun its web across the path and proboscis monkeys showed off their one-armed hanging skills in the leafy canopy. Juvenile groups of monkeys race through the treetops like any group of adolescents, bouncing on leaves as though they were mattresses. Babies hang precariously while stuffing their mouths with leaves with their free hand. Black and yellow butterflies flit through the flowering bushes, and we were treated to a snakeskin on our veranda.

This is our third time coming to Permai rainforest and in the previous visits we have ventured into the forest on specified trails to see waterfalls and blue pools and we loved the adventure and feeling the frisson of fear as we trudged through the unknown. This time, it is very wet and the trails are slimy and slippery. We shall wait and see if they dry enough to be safe. But we are planning to do the night walk with a guide to see by torchlight what is lurking in the dark. Stick insects, spiders of course and who knows what else?

We flew into Kuching, the capital of Sarawak, less than a week ago and survived the ghastly journey involving three flights and tedious transit times. We did meet a Malaysian man who was returning to his native land from his home in Mexico. He was quite derisive about Kuching: ‘Very quiet, not much happening, what are you going to do there? Are you missionaries?’ We were quite taken aback by that judgement, but on arrival we found out that the seventh day Adventists cycle around the streets in white shirts and sandals. We were sort of dressed for the part!

We met Norman, the Chinese porter in our hotel, a grumpy sort of chap. We asked if we needed to use our room card to operate the lift, ‘No Lah, this not five star, only three star, just push OK’, as he rolled his eyes! A couple of days later he was on door duty and was quite sullen.

‘Hello Norman, how are you?’  John asked.

Norman rolled his eyes again. ‘So-so, had day off and did nothing. Just supermarket to buy food. Now raining, ai yah!’

Ming and Francis, our friends from Hanoi days, drove us to this Permai rinforest resort, stopping off at an archaeological site to examine rock carvings and see the shrine where the headless Bhudda had been discovered by Tom Harisson, the famous curator of the Kuching Museum in 1946. I looked up at the mighty mountain, Santubong, which I wrote about in The Fish in the Tree, but I couldn’t see its peak as it was wreathed in cloud and mist.  It was at the foot of this mountain and near the mouth of the river where explorers and archaeologists had first made their discoveries.

Francis parked the car and we made our way to Sungai Jaong and walked through the mangrove forest. Immediately about a million mosquitos settled on our arms. (How did those original explorers cope, without paths, without previous knowledge, without mosquito spray?)

We found the place with a human-like figure carved on a boulder. Fascinating. Then we went to Bongkissam and Bukit Maras where the shrine containing the headless buddha was found and which had a silver ritual deposit box containing 142 gold foil figures representing Hindu-Buddhist traditions. It was quite amazing. Real treasure.

Three years ago when we visited, these museums didn’t exist. There were only grasses and an old government colonial style rest house on the site. Ming told me that when she was a child the only way to get to Santubong village was by boat, along the Sarawak River in Kuching to the sea then round the coast and into this inlet, taking two hours of a winding river route. Now it takes half an hour by highway. I bet the naturalist Alfred Russel Wallace in 1854 had a different experience as he embarked on expeditions exploring the biodiversity of Sarawak.

We felt suitably primed to enjoy our time here in the rainforest. Scotland seems so far away, and Christmas and the daily routines of home seem to belong to another world. I am hot, suffering a little with the humidity and heat, but John made the walk alone yesterday to Santubong village to buy some beer and crisps. He had to pass some squawking monkeys which was a bit alarming but I’m glad he did as we took our cans and made our way down through a precarious path to the most beautiful secluded beach and sat on a rock and watched the sun set. It’s always five o’ clock somewhere as they say. And as our friends and family at home were just waking up, we were saying ‘Cheers!’ It is good to be back.

I have had a huge problem with uploading the pictures, so apologies for getting them in the wrong place.