Railway tracks cutting through the misty green wilderness near Merapoh, a sleepy gateway to the Taman Negara rainforest.
Travel these days often feels like a string of lists and digits: the top 10 cities in the world, the top five malls in the region, the seven best cafés in town – all crammed into 60-second reels, curated for our shrinking attention spans.
Everything is trimmed, bite-sized, numbered.
The elusive Great Argus pheasant, with its extravagant plumage and haunting call, is one of South-East Asia’s most magnificent yet rarely seen birds.
But real journeys resist countdowns and soundbites.
They’re felt through the soil underfoot, the scent of rain-soaked wood, the sudden rush of wings slicing through the canopy.
A Paradise Flying Snake peeking out from a tree cavity, its vibrant scales blending into the forest – an agile glider capable of ‘flying’ from tree to tree in the depths of Taman Negara.
They demand presence, not metrics.
Now, imagine these numbers: a forest over 130 million years old, home to at least 350 bird species, more than 200 kinds of mammals and Shorea trees approaching two centuries in age.
The striking tri-coloured Prevost’s squirrel, with its vivid black, orange and white fur, is a frequent sight in the forest canopy.
This is Taman Negara – a name that simply means “national park” in Malay – but no statistic can do justice to its grandeur.
The road to this ancient rainforest, older than the Amazon, winds through the Lipis Geopark towards Gua Musang.
It’s one of the most scenic and under-appreciated drives in Malaysia.
With its vivid plumage and turquoise bill, the Black-and-red Broadbill adds a flash of colour and song to the undergrowth.
The green, looming Titiwangsa Range suddenly gives way to a scene straight out of Jurassic Park: craggy limestone karsts jut from the land, sentinels of stone that have witnessed the ages.
The road ends at the sleepy village of Merapoh, where time seems to hold its breath.
Even the train station, with its quaint signage, feels suspended in another era.
Arrive early and you’ll catch the first rays colouring a mountainous horizon, green as far as the eye can see.
Taman Negara begins at Sungai Relau.
A suspended walkway cutting through the treetops of Taman Negara, offering an unparalleled view of one of the world’s oldest rainforest canopies.
Here, a remarkable canopy walk unfolds – 13 platforms, seven towers – offering a rare aerial view of this ancient forest.
Prevost’s squirrels dart through the branches, while the flash of scarlet from a Black-and-red Broadbill might break the foliage like a spark.
Beneath the canopy lies Sungai Relau, its clear waters shimmering with Kelah fish that move like liquid silver in the sun.
Further inland lies Kuala Juram, gateway to the trailhead for Gunung Tahan – Peninsular Malaysia’s tallest and most demanding peak.
Birdsong and the ceaseless hum of cicadas fill the air as you hike deeper into this primeval forest.
This is the domain of the Malayan tiger, the Asian elephant, the Malayan tapir, the Siamang, the sun bear – wild beings in a wild land.
Sometimes, fresh elephant footprints press into the mud, quiet reminders that you’re not alone.
Then, a haunting, flute-like call breaks the stillness: the Great Argus, South-East Asia’s largest pheasant.
Nearly two metres from beak to tail, it’s a bird both impossibly grand and maddeningly elusive.
A towering limestone karst rising like a green-crowned monolith from the rainforest floor – one of the many ancient sentinels shaping the dramatic landscape near Taman Negara.
The path begins to rise.
Soon, you’re among ancient Shorea trees, their leaves flashing green, silver and gold.
The endless ridges of forest spill into the distance.
From atop Menara Shorea, the horizon is a sea of uninterrupted canopy.
Morning mist rising over the canopy of Taman Negara, shrouding the 130-million-year-old rainforest in ethereal silence.
Here, Rhinoceros Hornbills glide at eye level, while Siamangs sing loud and long across the treetops.
Rattan vines climb ever upward, reaching for the sun.
As you descend, the melodic call of the White-rumped Shama follows you to the river’s edge.
The White-rumped Sharma is often heard before it is seen, its melodic song accompanying many a rainforest trek.
A jolt of colour startles the eye – a Scarlet-rumped Trogon, rare and radiant, blinks into view.
And then: Kuala Juram, the river that has carved its path through this forest for countless millennia.
You wonder – what dinosaurs once drank from these banks?
How many elephants have crossed here?
A rare sighting – the Scarlet-rumped Trogon perching quietly, its vivid hues glowing against the deep greens of the jungle.
A Paradise Flying Snake peeks from a tree hollow, basking in sunbeams that struggle to reach the forest floor.
And just as silence settles in, a raucous, echoing laugh erupts from the canopy – the Helmeted Hornbill.
Critically endangered, this bird’s call is unforgettable.
The Rhinoceros Hornbill, a symbol of Malaysia’s rainforest, letting out its resonant call from high above the canopy.
So is the privilege of hearing it.
There are 525,600 minutes in a year, but not all are created equal.
Some – the ones spent in awe, in silence, in wild, living places like this – stretch beyond measure.
Railway tracks cutting through the misty green wilderness near Merapoh, a sleepy gateway to the Taman Negara rainforest.
The elusive Great Argus pheasant, with its extravagant plumage and haunting call, is one of South-East Asia’s most magnificent yet rarely seen birds.
A Paradise Flying Snake peeking out from a tree cavity, its vibrant scales blending into the forest – an agile glider capable of ‘flying’ from tree to tree in the depths of Taman Negara.
The striking tri-coloured Prevost’s squirrel, with its vivid black, orange and white fur, is a frequent sight in the forest canopy.
With its vivid plumage and turquoise bill, the Black-and-red Broadbill adds a flash of colour and song to the undergrowth.
The Rhinoceros Hornbill, a symbol of Malaysia’s rainforest, letting out its resonant call from high above the canopy.
A rare sighting – the Scarlet-rumped Trogon perching quietly, its vivid hues glowing against the deep greens of the jungle.
The White-rumped Sharma is often heard before it is seen, its melodic song accompanying many a rainforest trek.
Morning mist rising over the canopy of Taman Negara, shrouding the 130-million-year-old rainforest in ethereal silence.
A towering limestone karst rising like a green-crowned monolith from the rainforest floor – one of the many ancient sentinels shaping the dramatic landscape near Taman Negara.
A suspended walkway cutting through the treetops of Taman Negara, offering an unparalleled view of one of the world’s oldest rainforest canopies.
