This December, spending a few chill days on the beaches of Tioman was the original plan. A Malaysian island boasting clear waters, jungles, and cheap accommodation, Tioman was just a 4 hour bus ride and 2 hour ferry ride away from Singapore. Taking advantage of some absurdly cheap prices on Agoda, I snapped up some bungalow bookings and convinced a friend to join me for what was supposed to be a wallet-friendly getaway. Of course, as everything in life, things never turn out to be the way you expect it…
After waking up at 4am on a Saturday morning to catch a bus across the Causeway to Johor Bahru, we wearily discussed Tioman amidst greasy roti canai in the shabby food court of the JB long distance bus station. “It’ll be worth all the grime!” “Think about white sandy beaches in a few hours time!” Then, it was time to hop on another bus to Mersing, the sleepy port town from where the ferry to Tioman takes off.
It was only after we reached Mersing that we realised there was simply no ferry to Tioman, not today, not tomorrow, not for the next month. It was monsoon season. The seas were rough, and no sane boatman would take you out into the open waters. A threatening looking iron chain locked up the jetty entrance – there were even cobwebs on it! Obviously, only ignorant foreigners like us (and that Japanese couple on the same bus) would make the stupid mistake of attempting to go to Tioman during the east Coast moonsoon from Nov- Feb. No wonder the hotel was 70% off.
While all the dejected backpackers huddled in a cafe to discuss where to go for the night, I admired the colourful fishing boats of Mersing River.
A cup of piping hot teh tarik later, a decision was made! We turned our sights on the village of Cherating, about 4-5 hours away by bus. Lonely Planet told us that Cherating also had a beach, some monkeys, and “an incredible amount of things to do”. Sounds good enough! Cherating was so small that there isn’t even a direct bus to go there. We were instructed to go to the strict Islamic state capital of Kuantan, and from there, hop on any bus heading north, it should drop us off “at an intersection leading into the village”. These vague instructions sent shivers down my back, but adventures were made this way, right?
Much of the next few hours were spent at the local bus station.
Cherating was a no more than two strips lined with shabby guesthouses and an unpretentious beach. The town’s distinguishing element was its undeniable laid-back, surfer/hippie vibe. There were groovy beach shacks with live music, local Malay surfers with ponytails and guitars, and a pace so slow that time could literally melt away. It exists in radical disharmony with Malaysia’s ultra-religious East Coast in a bubble of chill locals and the odd European surfer or two. I must admit that I fell a little bit in love with Cherating from the onset.
Cherating also had a long and winding estuary lined with native mangrove forests. The river was 14km long in total and the perfect place to spend a morning kayaking in absolute silence, save for the occasional monkey hoot. At night, the mangroves come alive with fireflies, which is an absolutely magical sight to behold. The sky is so dark that fireflies and stars blend into a glittering rainshower all around you – a scene that would not be out of place in a fairy tale.
We spent our days strolling along the empty beach, and our nights devouring grilled fish and fending off several families of mosquitoes. Our chalet, being one of the cheapest in town, had nothing more than beds and a mosquito net. One of my most vivid memories of the trip was waking up in the middle of the night and making my way in absolute darkness to the shared outhouse, the buzz of my mosquito friends my only company.
All in all, Cherating was unexpectedly interesting. It was my first foray into a provincial Malaysian village, and it showed me the alternative lifestyle of neighbours just a few hours away from the stressed-out salarymen of Singapore. I often think of myself as a suppressed hippie, but could I have enjoyed a longer stay, or even a home in a place like this? It was certainly something to think about on the long bus ride back to reality.
Musings of a Leaf 