Seeing an orangutan in the wild was a lifelong dream, but the jungle made me earn it.

The Call of the Jungle

Flying over Sumatra, the land below appeared endless—an emerald blanket torn here and there by rivers like silver scars. I pressed my forehead against the window and wondered what lay hidden beneath. That night, deep in the dark, I heard the jungle. A chorus of unseen life stirred the silence.

If Mount Bromo had been fire and fury, Sumatra was green and silence—until it wasn’t.

Where to see Wild Orangutans in Sumatra?

Bukit Lawang is the more popular orangutan destination in Sumatra—easier to reach with better tourist facilities and a higher chance of spotting semi-wild orangutans habituated to humans. However, it can feel crowded and less authentic.

We chose Simolap Wild Adventures for its remoteness and truly wild rainforest experience. Though the journey was longer and rougher, the chance to see truly wild orangutans in their untouched habitat, surrounded by raw jungle sounds and solitude, made every challenge worthwhile. For us, the deeper connection to nature and adventure was worth the extra effort. From a photographic point of view, however, Bukit Lawang might have offered better opportunities due to easier access and habituated animals. But this comes with the downside of witnessing unnatural behaviours—such as orangutans walking on the ground or even stealing food. This can detract from the authenticity of the experience.

Truly wild Orangutan spotted in the Gunung Leuser National Park in Sumatra on a 3 Days Trek with Simolap Wild Adventures

Journey into the Wild

From Medan, the journey took us westward. Hours in a rattling 4WD, over roads more pothole than pavement even across a hanging bridge.

By the time we reached Simolap, we had already changed pace, our rhythm syncing with the thrum of the rainforest.

At the Edge of the Jungle in Simolap, there is a natural hot spring on the lower left corner

Arrival in the Rainforest

Our base was nothing short of dreamlike—a treehouse nestled in the jungle, and surrounded by crimson blossoms. The garden around it was clearly cared for with intention; it stood out as something planted with love, not just function.

There, we met Aceng, our main guide. He didn’t speak English, but his smile was wide and steady. Our second guide played translator and told us stories of spirits in the trees and how orangutan literally translates into English as “person of the forest” and were once thought to be forest people who chose silence over speech. He was calm—almost too relaxed for the jungle ahead.

There was peace. A slow rhythm. Morning mist. The sound of rain beginning in the canopy long before it touched the ground.

Into the Jungle: The Search for the Red Ape

Our trek lasted three days. With three porters, bug nets, water filters, and a makeshift kitchen packed on their backs, we plunged into the thick of it.

The forest quickly swallowed us. Every turn revealed new views. Sometimes wading along a river, then climbing a steep hill. We spotted wildlife now and then such as a pig-tailed macaques crashing through the canopy, beautiful hornbills, and giant black squirrels. Moreover, insects too alien to describe.

Arriving at Camp 1, I scanned obsessively through my 600mm lens. Suddenly, I caught an orange dot. There—far away, high up, barely visible—an orangutan, orange against the green. I found him.

I could hardly breathe. The others came over to us to see for themselves. Then silence, reverence.

We didn’t speak. Only the jungle did.

: Giant Black Squirrel

: Giant Black Squirrel

: pigtail macaque

: pigtail macaque

: Wild Orangutans in Sumatra

: Gecko

: Huntsman spider with eggsac

Jungle Life: Between Leeches and Laughter

Jungle life is both brutal and beautiful. The heat is thick, like wearing the air. Every rest invites leeches; every step reminds you that you are the guest here.

But the food—spiced, simple, soulful—kept us grounded. Our guides cooked over open flame, and we ate cross-legged, sharing stories even with no common tongue.

We bathed in streams, swatted at giant mosquitoes, and once, found a huntsman spider the size of a spread hand, guarding her egg sac.

One night, while brushing our teeth under headlamp light, Larissa suddenly froze. A huntsman spider had started climbing up her leg. Instinct kicked in, and I swatted at it with the only weapon I had: my toothbrush. The spider retreated into the dark, and our guides came hurrying over, alarmed by the commotion. But by then, the spider was gone—and in its place, just meters from our camp, he pointed to a snake disappearing into the branches. We hadn’t seen it. But it had been watching us all along. In the jungle, you rarely get just one surprise at a time.

ExpediTom in the jungle of Sumatra (Gunung Leuser) looking for wild Orangutans

Sleeping in the jungle of Sumatra, Indonesia

What the Rainforest Taught Me

This wasn’t just a trip—it was a lesson. The rainforest moves at its own pace, and to experience it, we had to slow down too.

There’s a complexity here—every vine, every call, every silence feels like part of a language we only half understand. It made me think about conservation not as protection from humans, but protection from our impatience.

The forests of Sumatra are shrinking. And yet, for now, life thrives in every corner—if you care enough to look.