As much as I love Singapore, it doesn’t always feel like paradise. With a scalding and merciless sun and humidity, you have to fight the heat with the only way that makes sense – a good beach. Sadly for Singapore, its mainland beaches are more polluted than inviting, and most people flock to Sentosa Island - an overpriced resort island creation. Getting to Sentosa also requires leaving the mainland and crossing a bridge, so why not just hop a border and cross another bridge into the Malaysian peninsula?

Bussing into Malaysia is as common to your average Singaporean as having a meal in a hawker centre. Hell, you can even take a cab over the causeway into Johor Bahru for $10. It’s possible to find deals like this: $99 that includes return transport , 3 days 2 nights accommodation, and an extra $20 to cover buffet breakfast and dinner meals. It was impossible to pass up. So one Sunday morning, in a pre-dawn bleary-eyed daze, my friends and I got onto a bus headed into Malaysia.

“So where are we going?” (Good on them for just buying along with my crazy idea of an island getaway without knowing what they were getting into).

Our bus weaved us through the countless oil palm plantations of Malaysia, up to its east coast town of Tanjung Gemok, where we piled onto an old rickety ferry with a hoard of Malaysians and a few stops later, found ourselves in Paya village on Pulau Tioman. And this is the view that greets you:

Pulau Tioman has its expensive touristy parts, especially in the Berjaya resort side of the island, where spectacular chalets cling to the side of cliffs like honeycomb. But Paya was inviting in its very local, somewhat dingy, truly village feel. The resort was worn, the village was spilling with cats, and everyone else seemed to be local Malaysians, from the island or mainland. We spent our first day wandering the village shops (a grand total of 2 mini-mart stores, 2 tiny eateries, and 2 dive shops).

The second day, we got onto more old rickety boats that took us out to the marine reserves of the island. To get onto the island, you have to pay a marine conservation fee, an amount well worth it because the place is teeming with life like something out of a Discovery Channel special. On the way to our first stop, excited and piling on the sunscreen:

Our first stop was by Renggis Island where fish with crazy colours glide past your body, even grazing your skin – I have no photos that captured this, but it was incredible. One time, Rosie surfaced and said “I accidentally punched a fish! I didn’t expect it to come so close.” At our second stop, Keitha swam to me and demanded that I see the swirling columns of fish under the jetty, something you always see on documentaries but never in real life. Till now.

By lunch time, on our way back, we were wiped out. Here’s a picture Keitha took of us completely KO’ed.

Good times.

At night, many antics were had. Walking through the island’s version of nightlife where all the local dive boys would hang out – they remembered our names and invited us to join their bonfire gathering.

We sang songs along to Rosie’s guitar on the jetty, and sang and danced more after we trekked out to the uninhabited ends of the village where we watched fireflies and lightning out on the horizon.

On the morning of our departure we had our last buffet breakfast, then some cocktails, followed by a long wait in the rain for the ferry (delayed, but it was ok – we were on island time) chowing down halal burgers from the Ramly cart. We bumped into the lady who, it turns out, was staying in the room next door. She informed us that our singing last night was, um, very good. Oops, we thought the room was unoccupied.

A ferry ride, and another long bus ride later, we were through customs and crossing the causeway into Singapore. Island life had done us good, but by that time we were hungry, tired from running way behind schedule, and somewhat ill from the winding roads. We creeped into Singapore past dinner time, and everyone perked up.

“Buildings!”

“Infrastructure!”

It was good to be back in Singapore.

Additional photos: Keitha Haycock