Introduction: A Natural Treasure Embraced by the South China Sea
Kota Kinabalu, the capital of Sabah state in northern Borneo. When I first heard the name of this city, I remember being drawn to its mysterious sound. This place, which means “Chinese fort” in Malay, once flourished as a trading hub and remains a cultural melting pot where diverse ethnic groups coexist.
Against the backdrop of the majestic 4,095-meter Mount Kinabalu, with the blue waters of the South China Sea stretching beyond, this city presents a perfect harmony between nature and culture. The traditional culture of indigenous peoples like the Kadazan-Dusun, the vibrant commerce of Chinese Malaysians, and the peaceful lifestyle of Malay residents all blend together seamlessly to create a unique charm.
Perhaps I chose this destination because I wanted to escape the busy routine of daily life and immerse myself in the grandeur of nature and the warmth of its people. Seeking a gentle flow of time, the complete opposite of urban chaos.
Day 1: Welcomed by Sea Breeze and Sunset
I departed Kuala Lumpur in the morning and landed at Kota Kinabalu International Airport after a two-and-a-half-hour flight. The green carpet of Borneo visible from the plane was breathtaking—I found myself pressing my face to the window in wonder, and before I knew it, we were landing. The airport was surprisingly compact, with a relaxed, tropical atmosphere permeating the air.
During the taxi ride to my hotel in the city center, my heart leaped at the sight of palm trees and bougainvillea lining the streets. The driver, Raja, spoke fluent English and kindly shared information about the city’s attractions. “The most beautiful sunsets can be seen at Tanjung Aru Beach and Signal Hill,” he advised with genuine warmth.
In the afternoon, after checking into my hotel, I decided to explore the city center on foot. Walking down Gaya Street, I discovered a unique streetscape where colonial-style buildings mixed with modern shops. Chinese herbal medicine stores, Malay sundry shops, and tourist souvenir stores lined the street, with the fragrance of multiculturalism wafting from every corner.
As I walked, I began to feel hungry. Venturing into a side alley, I discovered a small cha chaan teng (tea restaurant) bustling with locals. Gathering courage, I stepped inside, where the owner, Mr. Chen, greeted me with a smile. I ordered their signature Hainanese chicken rice, and soon a plate arrived with fluffy rice topped with tender, moist chicken. The ginger and chili sauces paired perfectly, and I couldn’t help but exclaim how delicious it was. Mr. Chen nodded with pleasure and told me, “Sabah rice is especially delicious.”
As evening approached, remembering Raja’s words, I headed to Tanjung Aru Beach. This was clearly a gathering place for locals too, with families and couples enjoying the evening breeze. A well-maintained promenade ran along the coastline, and as I walked along it gazing at the horizon, the sun gradually approached the sea.
Then the moment arrived. The sight of the crimson sun slowly sinking into the horizon was breathtakingly beautiful. The sky transformed from orange to deep purple, painting a golden path across the water’s surface. I heard an elderly local couple beside me murmur “Cantik (beautiful),” and my heart warmed at this moment of shared beauty that transcended language barriers.
For dinner, I decided to eat at the hawker stalls of the Filipino Market. During the day, this was a souvenir market, but at night, food stalls emerged, filling the air with the aromatic scent of grilled seafood. I enjoyed prawns, squid, and locally caught fish grilled over charcoal, dipped in chili sauce. Dining with a beer in hand while watching people pass by was exceptional. The auntie at the stall kept saying “Makan-makan (eat, eat)” with such kindness that my heart felt light.
Walking back to the hotel, I enjoyed the city’s nightscape. The city showed a different face at night, with neon lights illuminating tropical flowers, creating a somewhat fantastical atmosphere. Back in my room, gazing at the city lights from my window, I basked in the afterglow of my first day. Thinking about tomorrow’s encounter with nature, my chest swelled with anticipation.
Day 2: Mysteries of the Rainforest and the Magic of a Sunset Cruise
I woke to the sound of birds singing. Looking at the clock, it was 6:30. In this land, one hour behind Japan, the morning light still gently embraced the city. After showering and getting ready, I headed to the hotel’s breakfast hall.
The buffet offered Western cuisine alongside Malay, Chinese, and Indian dishes. I chose a typical Malaysian breakfast: nasi lemak (coconut rice) with sambal sauce and a fried egg. The rice, subtly fragrant with coconut, paired exquisitely with the spicy-sweet sambal sauce. A European tourist at the neighboring table had chosen the same dish, and we exchanged knowing smiles.
Today’s main event was a day trip to Manukan Island. Boarding a speedboat from Jesselton Point wharf, I reached Tunku Abdul Rahman Marine Park in about 15 minutes, consisting of Sapi Island, Manukan Island, and Mamutik Island.
As the boat approached the island, the sea’s color changed from deep blue to transparent emerald green. “This might be what heavenly seas are like,” I whispered to myself. Stepping onto Manukan Island’s pier, white sandy beaches and tropical greenery filled my vision.
First, I tried snorkeling. Renting equipment and entering the shallow waters, I discovered another world. Colorful tropical fish swam among the coral reefs, and occasionally large Napoleon fish glided majestously past. Holding my breath underwater and sharing the same space as the fish, I felt the strange sensation of becoming a sea creature myself.
In the afternoon, I explored the island. Walking the jungle trail, I had the unusual experience of encountering a giant monitor lizard that emerged slowly, and we stared at each other for a while. Guide Amin explained, “Monitor lizards are afraid of humans. If we stay quiet, there’s no problem.” Deep in the rainforest, listening to various bird calls and insect sounds, the urban chaos felt like a distant memory.
Lunch on the island featured local fish dishes and fresh coconut juice. The fish, steamed in banana leaves, highlighted the natural flavors beautifully. The coconut, cracked open right before my eyes, offered natural sweetness that permeated my entire being. Dining while gazing at the sea, sparkling under the afternoon sun, was pure bliss.
In the evening, returning to Kota Kinabalu, I joined a sunset cruise. Meeting other participants at the pier, I found tourists from various countries: an Australian family, a German couple, and a group of Korean women. Conversations flowed freely aboard the boat, transcending nationalities.
As the boat headed offshore, I saw Kota Kinabalu’s cityscape from a different angle. Mount Kinabalu loomed behind, appearing purple in the evening light, and I was once again moved by its grandeur. “That mountain is sacred,” crew member Michael told me. “Local people still believe in the mountain spirits.”
And again, the sunset moment arrived. Viewing the sunset from the sea was exceptional, different from yesterday. As the sun approached the horizon, the entire sky was painted gold, with reflected light sparkling on the water’s surface like countless jewels. Everyone on board fell into reverent silence, captivated by nature’s greatness.
That night, I wandered through the Gaya Street night market. Being Friday night, the entire street pulsed with energy. Stalls offered satay (grilled chicken skewers), chicken rice, and the sweet dessert cendol. Watching local families enjoying their meals together filled me with warmth as a traveler.
While eating cendol and walking, I came across a street musician playing guitar and singing. Though I couldn’t understand the Malay lyrics, the melody touched my heart. Small children danced around him, their innocent smiles making me smile too. When I dropped a coin into his hat, the young musician said “Terima kasih (thank you)” with a bright smile.
Before returning to the hotel, I walked along the coastline once more. The night sea showed a completely different face from the daytime, with city lights reflecting on the water’s surface. Walking while listening to the sound of waves, the day’s events settled in my mind. The beauty of nature, the warmth of people, and encounters with different cultures—all of these were deeply etched into my heart from this single day.
Day 3: Cultural Encounters and a Morning of Farewell
I greeted the final morning with somewhat sentimental feelings. Though it was only a three-day stay, I found myself deeply attached to this city and its people. With time before my afternoon flight, I decided to visit places I hadn’t yet explored.
After breakfast, I first visited the Sabah State Museum. Here, I could learn about Sabah’s history and culture in detail. Particularly impressive was the exhibition about indigenous peoples, including the Kadazan-Dusun. Viewing their traditional houses, handicrafts, and photos and explanations of the rice harvest festival “Kaamatan,” I felt the depth of this land’s rich, rooted culture.
Museum guide Sara explained, “For us Kadazan-Dusun people, rice is sacred. During the harvest festival, we offer thanks to the rice spirits.” I was surprised to learn that such traditional beliefs lived on within this modern city, and I truly felt the beauty of cultural diversity.
Next, I visited the City Mosque in the city center. This Islamic place of worship featured beautiful architecture that fused modern design with traditional elements. Non-Muslims could visit, and removing my shoes to enter, I was enveloped in silence and sacred atmosphere. As I admired the high ceilings and beautiful decorations, prayer time began, and the voices of worshippers resonated throughout. The solemn atmosphere gave me a sense of spiritual cleansing that transcended religious boundaries.
For lunch, I went to a coffee shop recommended by locals for traditional “kopi-o (black coffee)” and kaya toast. The kopi-o was rich with slight bitterness but a clean aftertaste. Kaya toast consisted of toast spread with kaya jam made from coconut and eggs—sweet and aromatic. Though a simple combination, it was remarkably delicious, giving me a glimpse into local daily life.
I had a conversation in broken English with an elderly Chinese Malaysian man reading a newspaper at the neighboring table. When he asked, “How do you like this city?” I replied, “It’s very beautiful, and the people are kind.” He smiled and said, “That’s good to hear. Please come back again.” Such casual interactions make travel memories truly special.
In the afternoon, before heading to the airport, I took one last walk. While choosing souvenirs at the handicraft market, I reflected on these three days. I purchased a locally made wooden carving and Sabah coffee beans. When selecting the wooden carving, the craftsman explained, “This is a bird that brings good luck.” For the coffee beans, I chose the most fragrant ones after tasting several varieties.
In the taxi to the airport, driver Raja asked, “Did you have an enjoyable stay?” When I answered, “Yes, it was truly wonderful. I was moved by people’s kindness,” he replied, “That’s our pride as Malaysians. Please definitely come back.” His words brought tears to my eyes.
After completing check-in procedures at the airport, gazing at the runway from the waiting area, I could see Mount Kinabalu rising in the background. That mountain I first saw three days ago now felt like an old friend.
As boarding time approached, I wanted to burn this beautiful land into my memory one last time. Borneo’s green, the South China Sea’s blue, and above all, people’s smiles—all of these were etched deep within my heart.
Kota Kinabalu at dusk, viewed from the aircraft, was as beautiful as a jewelry box. City lights twinkled here and there, with moonlight drawing a silver ribbon across the sea’s surface. Placing my hand against the window, I promised in my heart, “I will definitely return someday.”
Conclusion: What Felt Real Despite Being Imaginary
This journey existed only in my imagination. Yet strangely, everything remains in my heart as if it truly happened. Manukan Island’s crystal-clear waters, Tanjung Aru Beach’s sunset, the night market’s bustle, and the warm smiles of everyone I met—though products of imagination, they dwell in my heart as genuine memories.
The meaning of travel isn’t just about visiting new places. It’s about opening your heart to different cultures, being moved by nature’s beauty, cherishing encounters with people, and above all, facing yourself during time away from daily routine. Perhaps all of these can be fully experienced even in an imaginary journey.
Kota Kinabalu will remain forever in my heart as a special place where nature’s grandeur and human warmth converge. Mount Kinabalu’s purple ridgeline, the sunset’s glow over the sea, the taste of Hainanese chicken rice at a street stall, and everyone’s words: “Please come back again.”
Though this was an imaginary journey, the emotions, experiences, and encounters felt genuinely real. They continue to shine in my heart at this very moment. Perhaps true travel begins the moment your heart is moved, and such journeys are equally beautiful and valuable whether in imagination or reality.
My imaginary trip to Kota Kinabalu has ended, but the journey in my heart continues. When I truly visit this land someday, I’m sure I’ll feel a déjà vu-like nostalgia. Until that day, I’ll walk forward treasuring these beautiful memories close to my heart.
