Taman Negara
Last Updated on 21 September 2025
Deep in the heart of Peninsular Malaysia lies Taman Negara, the country’s largest national park, spanning across three states (Pahang, Kelantan, and Terengganu) and covering more than 4,000 square kilometres. At a whopping 130 million years old, Taman Negara is one of the oldest rainforests in the world, making it older than the Amazon and Congo rainforests. This ancient tropical rainforest is home to some rare mammals, including shy tapirs, impressive Asian elephants, and even the elusive Malayan tiger. Realistically, though, you’re far more likely to bump into mischievous macaques trying to steal your snacks, or spot a hornbill flapping noisily overhead.
The classic gateway to Taman Negara is via Kuala Tahan village, where most guesthouses and restaurants are located. At Kuala Tahan, the Tembeling River acts as a natural moat between the village and the entrance to Taman Negara.
The good news is: getting across is ridiculously simple. Right at the riverbank, you’ll see a row of wooden longboats (basically river taxis) waiting to shuttle visitors back and forth for just 1RM per person per ride. You just hop in, hang on, and you’re on the other side faster than you can say, “Wait—I forgot my leech socks!”.
The crossing drops you at Mutiara Taman Negara Resort, which sits at the park entrance. From there, the forest trails, canopy walkway, and park headquarters are all within walking distance.
Visiting Taman Negara comes with a bit of paperwork, but don’t worry—it’s inexpensive and painless. At the park visitor centre within a few steps from the jetty, just fill in a short form and hand over a few ringgit, and you’re set. The entry permit is 1RM per person and camera license is 5RM per camera (yes, DSLR, mobile phones, the whole lot). Keep the permit slip with you at all times—rangers may check it at trailheads and checkpoints.
On our first day, we kicked things off with a gentle hike along the Swamp Loop Trail. This short and relatively easy walk starts right near the visitor centre, making it perfect for first-timers, families, or anyone still adjusting to the idea of leech socks. True to its name, the trail meanders through a patch of swampy forest—complete with boardwalks that keep your feet dry (mostly) and away from leeches (sometimes). Parts of the boardwalk have some wobbly or broken planks, but don’t panic—just follow the bright orange spray-painted crosses, which cleverly show you where it’s (somewhat) safe to step. And keep your fingers crossed that you’re not the next unlucky person to fall through.
The first bit of wildlife to catch our eye on the trail was the Banded Red Harlequin (Paralaxita orphna), whose vivid colours lit up an otherwise wet and gloomy morning.
This swampy corner of the forest is also prime territory for encountering its chattering residents—an impressive variety of babblers showing off their calls. During our several walks along this loop, we were treated to a parade of personalities: the Sooty-capped Babbler (Malacopteron affine) looking deeply focused as it rehearsed a series of haunting scales…
…the Scaly-crowned Babbler (Malacopteron cinereum) acting coy and offering only fleeting glimpses…
…the elegant White-necked Babbler (Stachyris leucotis) serenading us with its lilting, mysterious song…
…and the Moustached Babbler (Malacopteron magnirostre) flaunting its signature ‘stache…
…with its inquisitive juvenile following closely behind.
Though the loop is short and fairly easy, it comes with its own little challenges. At one spot, fallen trees littered the path, requiring us to step over trunks or duck under low-hanging branches.
Further along, a section was completely blocked by fallen foliage, leaving us no choice but to retrace our steps.
Along the way back, the White-rumped Shama (Copsychus malabaricus) perched just off the trail and treated us to a solo performance. Its clear, melodious notes floated through the forest like liquid silver, carrying effortlessly from branch to branch. Every pause seemed deliberate, as if the bird was waiting for our applause before launching into the next verse.
Just when we thought the rest of the walk would be uneventful, we rounded a bend and ran into a family of Malayan Crested Firebacks (Lophura rufa). The glossy male strutted confidently at the front, his flamboyant plumage catching the light like a royal cloak, while the females and youngsters followed behind with a little more modesty. For a moment, it felt less like a wildlife sighting and more like stumbling upon a regal procession—and we were the awkward guests who hadn’t been invited. They eyed us briefly, then continued their parade into the forest as if we were nothing more than background foliage.
For anyone eager to get up close with the forest’s more elusive residents, Tahan Hide is a must-visit. Tucked into the undergrowth near a small clearing, this modest hideout offers front-row seats to the forest’s secret theatre, allowing you to watch wildlife come and go without disturbing them. The clearing itself is a natural salt lick, rich in minerals that attract animals like tapirs, barking deer, mouse deer, and porcupines. A visit to the hide at night offers the best opportunity to spot these elusive creatures.
In the centre of the clearing stands a magical fruiting fig tree, drawing a dazzling array of birds eager for its juicy offerings. Throughout the morning when we were there, a constant stream of feathered visitors took turns greedily gobbling the plump pink fruits. Sitting in the hide with our telescopic lens and binoculars, the hardest part was deciding which bird to focus on.
Among the delightful visitors we spied on were the Little Green-Pigeons (Treron olax)…
…the Thick-billed Green-Pigeons (Treron curvirostra)…
…the Asian Fairy-bluebirds (Irena puella)…
…the Gold-whiskered Barbets (Psilopogon chrysopogon)…
…and a family of Green Broadbills (Calyptomena viridis), patiently showing their recently fledged chick the ropes of foraging.
Also drawn to the irresistible fruits was an impressive line-up of bulbuls: the Red-eyed Bulbuls (Pycnonotus brunneus)…
…the Puff-backed Bulbuls (Microtarsus eutilotus)…
…the Streaked Bulbuls (Ixos malaccensis)…
…and the Stripe-throated Bulbuls (Pycnonotus finlaysoni).
Meanwhile, the dense trees surrounding the hide held their own surprises. A Chestnut-breasted Malkoha (Phaenicophaeus curvirostris) hopped along the branches, busy hunting for insects while keeping us occupied stalking him.
Not far away, a Raffles’s Malkoha (Rhinortha chlorophaea) moved gracefully through the foliage, its long tail swaying tantalisingly with each step.
Not to be outshone, a Black-and-red Broadbill (Cymbirhynchus macrorhynchos) made a sudden appearance, flaunting its vivid colours in a way that was impossible to miss.
While tracking the movements of the broadbill, the rhythmic drumming of a Buff-rumped Woodpecker (Meiglyptes grammithorax) echoed through the forest, forcing me to split my attention between the woodpecker and the broadbill.
Meanwhile, a mischievous Abbott’s Babbler (Malacocincla abbotti) played peekaboo among the undergrowth, popping up and vanishing in a game of hide-and-seek.
Among the mammals that made an appearance at the hide were the Dusky Leaf Monkey (Trachypithecus obscurus)…
…and the Grey-bellied Squirrel (Callosciurus caniceps).
If the Swamp Loop Trail is your gentle introduction to the jungle, the hike up Bukit Teresek is where the forest starts showing off its muscles. This moderately challenging trail climbs steadily through lowland rainforest, offering a mix of shady stretches, muddy patches, and occasional roots that seem to appear just to test your balance.
Along the way, birdsong filled the air—sometimes a distant call, sometimes a cheeky duet nearby that made us stop in our tracks. And then came the moment every birder secretly dreams of. Somewhere deep in the forest, the distant, echoing bark of a Great Argus carried through the trees. At another point, the haunting notes of a Garnet Pitta floated through the undergrowth, invisible yet tantalisingly close. We never managed to see either—few people ever do—but hearing their calls felt like a rare invitation into the secret world of the jungle.
Halfway up, the trail opened to small clearings where shafts of sunlight pierced through the dense canopy. It’s in these quiet moments that the forest really grabs you—you can almost hear the heartbeat of the jungle beneath your boots.
At the summit, Bukit Teresek rewards you with a sweeping view of the surrounding rainforest, a sea of green stretching as far as the eye can see. It’s a serene, almost humbling panorama—one that makes every slippery root and muddy patch along the trail worth it.
As if on cue, a Brown-backed Needletail (Hirundapus giganteus) soared overhead at dizzying speed, slicing through the sky with effortless grace—a perfect exclamation mark to the climb.
Early the next morning, a casual stroll down to Lubok Simpon sounded like the perfect way to kick off the day—fresh air, calm waters, and hopefully a kingfisher or two perched photogenically by the riverbank. We also had our hopes pinned on catching the river’s aerial acrobats, the needletails and spinetails, zipping low over the surface.
But as birding goes, the forest had other plans. Instead of the splash of turquoise we were expecting, out popped a Malaysian Blue Flycatcher (Cyornis turcosus), glowing like a tiny sapphire in the soft morning light. Perched quietly at eye level, it seemed almost too obliging, as if to say, “Forget the kingfishers, I’m the headliner today.”
Along the boardwalk trail, a Gray-breasted Spiderhunter (Arachnothera modesta) darted in, whirring through the foliage as if playing an energetic game of hide-and-seek.
Of course, no jungle adventure is complete without meeting Taman Negara’s most infamous resident—the leech. One particularly monstrous specimen was spotted dragging its slimy self across the boardwalk, looking like it had just escaped from a B-grade horror film.
We gave the leech a wide berth, though it clearly had other plans for the day. Later, while tucking into lunch at the floating restaurant in Kuala Tahan, I felt an odd itch on my belly—only to discover a stowaway leech happily feasting away. Let’s just say it wasn’t the appetizer I had in mind.
After a few hours of stomping around the forest, nothing feels better than stumbling back to Kuala Tahan and sinking into one of its floating restaurants. The wooden platform bobbing gently on the water with its unbeatable view of the Tembeling River is the perfect place to kick off our hiking boots, sip something cold, and tuck into a hearty lunch while recounting stories about bird sightings and leech battles. With the river drifting lazily by and the jungle as the backdrop, it’s hard to imagine a better spot to recover and refuel before our next adventure.
Our one-week stay in Kuala Tahan was made all the more memorable by our choice of accommodation—Hana Guesthouse. While modest in appearance, it doubled as a delightful little “bird hide” in its own right. The backyard became our private stage where village birds came and went, often putting on quite a show.
On the day of our arrival, we were entertained by a pair of Striped-throated Bulbuls (Pycnonotus finlaysoni). They were so engrossed in splashing about in a shallow pool that they didn’t even notice us sneaking closer for a better look.
Every morning, the Rufescent Prinia (Prinia rufescens) flitted energetically through the bushes, occasionally erupting into its cheerful song with boundless enthusiasm.
One day, as we were making our way out, an Oriental Honey-buzzard (Pernis ptilorhynchus) soared overhead, clutching a honeycomb and looking utterly pleased with its sweet haul.
The real head-turners, however, were the Wreathed Hornbills (Rhyticeros undulatus), whose powerful wingbeats announced their presence long before we spotted them gliding past the treetops.
A week in Taman Negara left us with more than memories of mossy trails, towering trees, and colourful birds—it also left us with muddy boots, unexpected jungle surprises, and a few leech stories to laugh about later.
Curious about all the birds we spotted? Check out our eBird trip report:
https://ebird.org/tripreport/374634