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Published: August 9th 2007
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Kuala Besut
Waiting on a dark street for the bus away from paradise It's almost always worth it, but let's face it......travel can be a real bitch.
Back in the little port of Mersing, we were eating Pattaya rice at a small restaurant, waiting for our 10 hour bus ride to begin. It was 11pm and the bus was already one hour late, but as the restaurant owner mused, "that usually happens". Already the travel day had been off to a rocky start. Our 1 hour ferry back from Tioman turned into a 5 hour ordeal, as we stopped to pick up only the extremely disorganized tourists from every pier in the South China Sea. Some people held the ferry in limbo while their wives were still franticaly packing back in the rooms. The ferry eventually became so crowded that it tipped from side to side at extreme angles in the swells of the sea. We clung to the side rails of the upper deck, watching people on plastic stools slide and crash into each other every few minutes. Once docked, we were actually happy to get away from the beautiful blue water and it's crown of distant green islands.
We fared no better once we landed in Mersing: walking for an
hour to find bugspray; waiting in a huge line at the ATM; wandering aimlessly in search of an internet cafe; paying to much for a terrible attempt at pizza. We were cranky, irritable, at wits end with the curiosity of the locals (Where you go? You need bus? Where you from?), and now we were waiting under an awning as the rain drove the mosquitos into a feeding frenzy. Half out of desperation and half out of confusion, we had twice already run out into the downpour, loading our gear into the cargo hold of a bus only to find out that it was heading somewhere else. It seemed like weeks had passed since we had enjoyed the quiet and relaxed atmosphere of Tioman Island.
Even when the bus finally came, our relief was short-lived. After convincing the driver to agree to let us off at Jerteh (60 km before everyone else got off), we were shocked at his determination to make up for lost time. Flying around the corners and braking like an epileptic, there was no sleeping for me on this overnight adventure (Suz had no problem). Time crawled by as I constantly checked the digital clock
Turtle Bay
D'Lagoon is the little beach right in the middle over the driver's head. When would we get there? 6 am? 5 am? With the complete disregard for the speed limit, I no longer had any idea.
We pulled over to an empty roadside stand in Jerteh at 4:30 am. Amazingly, a taxi was waiting for us. It was still pitch black out, and we hurtled over our extremely annoyed fellow passengers as the overhead lights came on. How did he know we were coming? Had the bus company arranged it? Did the wired bus driver take his lead foot off the accelerator long enough to call a cab on our behalf?
"No, this bus come every morning", yawned the cabbie. Oh.
An hour later we arrived at the pier and were packed into a room with a dozen other bleary-eyed backpackers. We smiled and said hello but got very little response as everyone had made the same sleepless journey from their various destinations. One guy played a pocket videogame just to keep himself awake. We had another hour-and-a-half before the sun provided enough light to run the ferries to Perhentian, so Suz and I paid our fees and waited outside in the dark, watching cockroaches scamper
Adam and Eve Beach
Adam gets ready to snorkel around in the street.
At first light the lady behind the desk led our parade down to the pier. What awaited us was not a large ferry like before, but several small speedboats that held about 10 passengers each. With backpackers emerging from every restaurant and tourist agency in town, we were uniformely split up and designated a boat, depending on which island we were headed to. Lightning and thunder announced the arrival of first light, but we were so happy to be moving that we paid it no mind. Our mistake.
The distant storm had created quite a ruckus on the open sea. Being in a small boat with an over-caffinated driver (again?!), we would rise and crack the bottom of the boat on each wave, with plenty of salty spray added for extra drama. It was a high speed chase, although a jarring one, as all the boats raced out to see who could make it first to the smaller taxi boats and avoid having to await their return. A welcome change of pace, really. Many people who had sat for hours in the dark were now lifting up their hands and yelling "whoo-hoo!". It was
D'Lagoon Beach
The view from our bungalow a wild roller-coaster ride, and it wiped the exhaustion off of everyone's faces and replaced it with broad smiles. Everyone's face except Suzanne's.
She had that LOOK. Permanently fixed on the floor of the boat with intense concentration. No expression. No movement. The waves of spray were hitting her in the face but she was barely flinching. It was like she was avoiding eye contact with the inevitable. She had "the Puke Stare".
I tried numerous times to reach her, asking if she was OK and touching her arm in an attempt to bring her out of her trance. All I got was a feeble, "I'm fine". The girl next to me noticed the stare and asked if I needed a plastic bag. I said it was probably a good idea. Surveying the boat I tried to assess the potential damage. We were all packed in close and our baggage was lying crammed together by our knees. No one could move out of the way, and if it hit the floor, it would run to the back of the boat saturating all the bottoms of our backpacks. Another girl way in the back noticed and passed up another
Getting Supplies
Intense labor goes into making a coconut shake plastic bag to me. I gave it to Suz, but she just limply held it between two fingers. I could try to get her to face outside the boat, but the movement could set her off. Besides, with the bouncing of the waves and the windspeed, it may just blow back in to our faces. When had we last eaten? Everyone was staring at Suz now. It was like watching a jack-in-the-box. The island was in sight. Maybe another 10 minutes.....
As the boat slowed down in Coral Bay, I heard a communal sigh of relief. Our ride finally came to a complete stop and everyone jumped into the water taxis that scrambled for customers alongside our powerboat. Suz was smiling, and even began to talk again. She had woken up from self-hypnosis, and we were all grateful for the spell she had put herself under. The girl at the back of the boat even gave Suz two thumbs-up and said, "you did it!" Finally. It was time to relax.
D'Lagoon is a very rustic resort which is all by itself at the top of Turtle Bay. By "rustic", I mean "shacks with matresses". And by "resort", I
Cosy Bungalow
Our very "rustic" room mean there was a restaurant in-between the shacks. But this is exactly the kind of place that we were looking for. I'd like to tell you that we had lots of activities, but there were only three: snorkeling, playing cards, and reading in hammocks. There was nothing to do, and that's exactly what we did for three days. Snorkeling was good (we swam with reef sharks), I blew through 2 books, and Suz whipped me at UNO.
We're going to need our strength for when Mark, Ryan, and Tracy come and try to blow through three countries in 6 weeks.
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Doug
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Looks like you guys are getting bored. The same routine of beaches, excursions, good food, drinking in exotic locales. Maybe it' time to start thinking about coming home...it's 30 degrees in Chicago and Cleveland is snowed in. How could you not want to head back?