A Sleepless Night Exploring Miri
Last Day in Brunei
It was my final stretch in Brunei. After that day at Kampong Ayer floating village, I sat down with my friends to plan a road trip to Kota Kinabalu by car. We were all pumped about it, so we headed straight to the embassy to chat with a couple who’d done the drive before.
You can drive from Brunei to Kota Kinabalu, but with my friend’s old car, a 186-mile (300km) trip wasn’t looking good. Plus, crossing the border 5 or 6 times between Brunei and Malaysia sounded brutal—the border zigzags through tricky terrain and rivers, no straight shot. We went back and forth, debating whether to hit Kota Kinabalu or Miri. Both had their fun, but since my friends hadn’t been to Miri and it’s just 62 miles (100km) away, it felt like the smart pick for three of us unwilling to ditch our travel dreams.
On my last day in Brunei, we planned an early start to climb a mountain before deciding our next move. Brunei’s got tons of green space—forests everywhere—so even downtown has mountains to hike. Parks sprawl from their bases, with waterfalls and trails galore. Locals treat hiking like morning exercise—good for health and eco-friendly. My friend led us to a mountain near the 5-star Empire Hotel, but we didn’t know the way. We passed the entrance 2-3 times, totally convinced it wasn’t right—a two-hour comedy of errors. By 8 a.m., with the sun already blazing, we finally started our “morning workout.” We hit our goal, despite getting lost and looping a few times.
After hiking, the afternoon plan was swinging by the embassy to grab some meat for a farewell dinner, then gearing up to catch crabs by the sea. It was a rough-wave day—two hours of crabbing got us zero crabs, but tons of laughs instead. Rarely were we all together like that. The farewell party ran late, and even the laziest photo-takers among us managed a group shot, wishing the three of us luck for the road ahead.
A Sleepless Night Exploring Miri
Exploring Miri’s tough for backpackers—there’s barely any info online. Maybe people have checked it out and found nothing worth writing about. So, take my take on it to decide if Miri’s worth your time. Miri’s a Malaysian city raking in cash from Brunei folks. It’s 62 miles (100km) from the capital, Bandar Seri Begawan—about an hour by car, mostly highways, so speeds are high.
A quick bit on Brunei’s perks: people here are born set. Follow Islam, and you’re good—school’s covered, healthcare’s free, post-grad abroad is state-funded, and unemployment comes with hefty aid. Life’s chill. But the perks hit a ceiling—no booze, no bars, no nightlife, nothing open before 9 a.m. or after 10 p.m. That flat routine pushes some Bruneians to crave more excitement. Too much money, not enough to do, seems to stress out a chunk of families. So, just across the border, Miri’s a legit paradise—a spot to blow cash and live a nightlife dream, all at a perfect distance.
Most Bruneians hit Miri on Saturdays—book the priciest hotels, party all night Saturday and Sunday, then roll back for work Monday morning. They bar-hop till dawn, drink hard, shop like crazy, week after week. It’s the party city. Exploring Miri on weekend nights is wild—pumping music, working girls, and hotels ready for big spenders. Nothing beats it.
We headed to Miri that morning after filling the tank for just 15 USD (20 Brunei dollars). Gas is cheap in Brunei—everyone fills up there since Malaysia’s prices are steeper. Crossing from Brunei to Miri’s a breeze in a 4- or 7-seater car—no getting out. Two steps: register your car’s exit, then your own. Any passport slides through Brunei’s exit and Malaysia’s entry with ease.
Daytime Miri? Nothing special. We toughed it out from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.—rough stuff.
Come night, a local friend showed us around. We climbed a crazy-high hill with zero decent signs. From the top, we saw Miri for real—and, uh, it’s nothing much. The spot we hit had a killer view, but below? Just house lights and high-rises flickering at night—nothing standout. Inside, the music was awful—even I, pretty easygoing, couldn’t stomach it. At least it was cheap—a shisha jug’s still 2.50 USD (10 RM). Locals filled the place, from half-baked casuals to semi-fancy types, by my reckoning.
We dropped our local friend off by 9 p.m., then waited till midnight for the real nightlife. Chatting with her dug up some hot party spots in Miri. I still don’t get how Bruneians handle a whole day just to party at night, but I figured it out eventually—and you will too.
We wandered to the first spot—bars here are lame compared to places I’ve been. Sparse crowd, no stunners in sight. Circling around, we found a bar that screamed VIP, so we rolled in. Bumped into a college friend of my buddy’s there. He spilled what I just told you about Bruneians. I asked, “How’s it still popping at nearly 2 a.m.?” He said, “We sleep all day, dude. Night’s for fun. Come hit every bar with me till we’re done.” So he and his uncle drove us around Miri’s bars. He’s here weekends with family—they shop, he drinks. Why? Like I said, Brunei life stresses him out.
Saying Goodbye
That night, my friend’s pal booked and paid for a hotel room for us—last one available. The three of us crashed, wiped out, and woke early. After breakfast, my friend drove me to Miri airport, wrapping up our short Miri adventure. It was a bittersweet time—I wasn’t ready to end these amazing days, but new ones were calling.
I arrived in Brunei, welcomed by my friends. They’re the same ones who got me out, took me to Miri, and dropped me at the airport. We made awesome memories—friends from a far-off land. Thanks to all of them for my Brunei days.