A colonial city with a history of British White Rajahs befriending Sultans to fight pirates, Kuching has a bunch of wild stories to tell and a number of very friendly locals to tell them. Located on the Malaysian state of Sarawak on the island of Borneo at the bottom reaches of the South China Sea, the region has a long history of homing immigrants. This means that indigenous Malays from diverse tribes mingle with Chinese and Indian immigrants, blending culture, language and cuisine. Curried Laksa is served beside Dim Sum at Hawker stands just around the corner from western style bars selling everything from local Tuak rice wine to Korean soju. Eavesdrop on any conversation and you'll hear first-hand the intertwining of cultures, as locals change seamlessly from Malay to Chinese to English in single sentences. A faux-annoyed 'laa' serves as a cheeky reminder of the way locals connect through humour in their shared languages. Kuching is a place where everyone and no one belongs and it's this unique identity that shapes the local's cheery attitudes towards tourists. So although you might come for the food and the wildlife, you'll stay for the charm of the local people and their easy-going attitudes. The Iban tribe are the largest ethnic group in Sarawak. While most live modern lifestyles, some still live in longhouses based in the jungle under the same roof as up to twenty other families. While monotheism has filtered in, Ibans were originally an animist culture; animism being the belief that places, objects and all creatures possess a distinct essential spirit. This connection to the world around them allowed them to navigate the rainforest, sense danger from afar and hunt with skill. In more modern environments meanwhile, it allows them to connect to each other with deep emotion and understanding. Rather than discussing football or Love Island, conversation in Kuching often has a spiritual undertone. A common talking point among locals is conservation and the protection of our furry tangerine brethren, the Orangutan. I found that, while large portions of Borneo's rainforests have been sold off to make way for sleazy palm oil plantations, the rainforest still survives thanks to local support for conservation projects. There are as many as nine national parks within a day trip from Kuching alone, home to myriad species of amphibians, reptiles, birds and mammals. In addition to a proliferation of thieving long-tailed Macaques (which you'll have learnt to avoid if you've ever spent any time in South East Asia), there are a number of other more benign species of primate, including langurs and the indigenous proboscis monkey, famed for its 7-inch nose and domed belly. What the proboscis monkey lacks in accepted standards of beauty, it rather makes up for in charm and intrigue. Some estimates say there may only be 1,000 proboscis monkeys left in the wild but in Bako National Park, a short bus and boat ride from Kuching, stealthy hikers can catch sight of tens of them during dusk outings. As for the elusive orangutan, while they can still be found wandering wild in the vast forests of Batang Ai National Park, most now lead 'semi-wild' existences, protected from poachers and deforestation in places like Semenggoh National Reserve. An easy Grab ride from the city, Semenggoh offers the chance to catch sight of orangutans during breakfast and dinner, when friendly rangers howl hopefully into the forest announcing smorgasbords of fresh fruits and veg. Arrive early and expect to be kept waiting, listening to alien, unknowable noises from deep within the forest, before maybe being honoured with the sight of a peckish orangutan. Watching one mother and her baby descend into the clearing, scoop up a bunch of bananas and clamber off without ceremony was a short yet humbling experience, causing me to consider my part to play in making sure these intelligent creatures are able to return from the brink of extinction. With this, I came closer to understanding the binding relationship that Kuching locals have with their forests and their continued struggle, both spiritually and practically, to protect them. And so it was that Malaysian Borneo and its locals helped me to realise that true diversity is not just about people.