Who forgot the Petrol?

Berjaya flies in and out of Tioman

There are days you need a vacation from the vacation and that is what we encountered on a trip to Pulau Tioman, Malaysia, a tiny diving island near Singapore. There is only one airline that flies to Tioman or you can take a ferry but either way, it is diminutive retreat with limited activities unless you are into Scuba, in which case, it is Nirvana.

We only spent two nights in Tioman and that is about all you can take in this tranquil region. Don't get me wrong, the white sand beaches, the crystal clear waters that are near perfect for snorkelling and the hospitality of the people make it a great getaway from the hustle and bustle of Singapore. You can amuse yourself by watching the naughty monkeys run to the trash bins, steal a flapjack, chuck it because it isn't up to their high standards and run back for a waffle covered in chocolate sauce. If this isn't enough, you can head to the beach bar where a Philippine trio is playing 70s cover hits. What a way to relive your childhood music memories. Can you say Elevator Muzak and Barry Manilow?

With all these activities covered by the second day, we decided to hitch a ride to the center of town; always where the action is, anywhere in the world. What we didn't realize is that we would become the daily commotion for the locals.

We traipsed off the property and were met by one of the three "taxis" on the island. The driver told us for 30 ringgit ($9.50 CA) he would drive us around the island and deposit us to our doorstep. The resort is located up on a hill, about 4 km from the center of town so for three of us, we thought, "Why not?"  Why not, indeed.  Little did we know his dilapidated Suziki would break down no less than five times.

Gas wasn't the only thing this vehicle needed!

I am not certain he used any gas as we manoeuvred down the hill. He may have had it in neutral and was praying he didn't have to stop for a rogue rooster.  When we reached the bottom, that is when the trouble began. The driver leapt out, lifted the hood and jumped two wires. That little boost lasted another km or two so he pointed out the fresh seafood eateries, the local massage hut and where the tourists buy the duty free goods. That was the extent of the town and his tour.  It was also the extent of our ride.

The stolen kiddie bike

Once again the car died; he jumped out and tried to start the engine with two blue wires.  At this point, we weren't sure he legally owned the tiny 4X4.
He managed to get the vehicle to the side of the road and ran over to some kids playing on the street. He stole the kid's bicycle which left the boy howling like a monkey. It was a sight to see, a grown man peddling madly on a bike meant for a seven year old.

I started to take the boy's photo and he forgot about his bike. He began posing for me, which seemed more amusing to him than his broken down, stolen bike. It took about 20 minutes before our driver returned with some petrol in a bottle and the kid's wheels.  He managed to pour in the gas while we managed to hide from the scorching sun. This was really turning into a comedy of errors when he said there was air in the tank and the gas wouldn't go down. It wasn't long before men from the town began to gather around and debate the petrol issue. I left them to do what men do best, bicker, argue and contest how to get the junker started.

A tiny house along the road

I strolled up and down the only road, observing the women in the hijabs riding scooters with their scarves blowing behind them, a ten year old kid driving a motorcycle carrying two boys behind him, a few chickens and roosters pecking for food and huge fruit bats barely one meter above my head. We were getting our 30 ringgit on this trip, whether we wanted to or not.

The kid with his bike back

In ten minutes, I heard the sputter of the tiny engine so I made a beeline to the car and jumped in on the fly. R2 was already riding shotgun and said, "Let's get back to the beach before we end up walking that steep hill." Not something I wanted to consider in 34C heat with a narrow road leading back to the hotel.

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

I have learned after searching for the perfect beach in Asia, it doesn't exist, at least not to Tulum or the Bahamas standards. There are no mammoth clubs and resorts like you would find in Mexico or the Caribbean. The beaches, the water, the pools, the food and the resorts are different. That isn't to say you won't have a pleasant time on Asian beaches, I just had to change my way of thinking. The more places I visit, the more I am charmed by the quaintness of the resorts and the hard working people that make each trip an adventure. I still have so many islands, resorts and recommendations to try from Boracay, Philippines to Koh Samui, Thailand to Bali, Indonesia. It is a hard job, but this prairie girl is up for the challange.