The inside of the cafe was flooded with florescent light, which spilled out onto the footpath with an assortment of plastic tables and chairs. I had flitted into the cafe ten minutes earlier, crossing an unlit road to avoid the figures huddled in doorways and a group of young men that sat talking on their motorbikes. Down a sidestreet, silhouettes of two girls in short skirts and high heels were cut against a red neon light. Their cigarette smoke curled into the warm night air.
I had rolled the dice at Singapore’s long distance bus-station, with the vague intention of seeking a white-sanded, palm-tree-clad beach in Malaysia. “You want to go to the east coast”, a colleague had told me, so I scanned the list of destinations at the bus station against my creased print-out map of Malaysia. Kuantan. The name was smack in the middle of Malaysia’s east coast and there were islands sprinkled to the north and south. I checked the board. Departs Singapore 10.00 pm. Arrives Kuantan 5.15 am. Perfect.
A couple of years earlier, I had played this game at the central bus station of Trieste in northern Italy. I had bought a ticket for an overnight bus to Dubrovnik in Croatia for no other reason than the bus was leaving in half an hour. The bus had wound its way along the Croatian coastline all night under the stars. 
It was not until early morning, with the sun shimmering off the deep blue harbour under a cloudless sky, that the bus pulled into its terminus at Dubrovnik only a couple of hundred metres outside the old city walls. There was no sign of the sun in Kuantan. The cafe owners were closing for the night - an odd business decision I thought given that breakfast was only a couple of hours away - so I slinked back to the bus station and its flock of taxis. “Hello. Where do you want to go?” a driver said to me in as he leaned against his car. English. Excellent.
“I’m trying to get to an island,” I replied. His expression was blank. I mimicked swimming and then pulled out my print-out of Malaysia and pointed to the sea.
“Oh. OK. I take you to boat. Two hour by taxi. Then boat to island.” I was sceptical of his plan, but given the dearth of options, I climbed in.
Amir flew through the gears as we sped through the deserted streets out of town and into a countryside speckled with palm trees. Amir’s high-school English was good enough for me to learn that he had two wives - I never found out if one was an ex - and thirteen children. Amir had been busy over the years. I contemplated Amir supporting thirteen children on an income of cab fares and decided that the fare we had agreed on was going to a good cause.
Amir had phoned the ferry terminal from his mobile en route to confirm the departure times to Pulau Tioman, the island he had selected for me. “It’s OK,” he said, “We have time.” I paid Amir, but he gestured for me to follow him. He purchased my ferry ticket and, content to see me in the midst of a Chinese tour group heading to the same place, smiled and nodded goodbye.
Two hours later, the ferry slid into a wharf announced over the tinny loudspeaker as “Tekek”. It was a stark concrete structure sitting awkwardly between the clear water of the shore and the rich green of the tropical forest that climbed the mountain behind. There was only one road in Tekek. Someone had thoughtfully erected a painted wooden sign with the symbol of a hut promising accommodation along the road to the south.
The bitumen was steaming with the mid-morning heat. “Hey!” a curt voice called. I looked around to see if it was directed at me. “Hey! You want a room?” It was. A plump young woman in jeans, thongs and a blue polo shirt stared at me from the shade of a verandah which was apparently doubling as the reception desk in the heat.“Yeah? I questioned.”
“We only have one left.” Her tone was so abrupt. But a week later, I thought Anna was an incredibly friendly and helpful hostess. “Sea view. You want to see?”
“Sure.”
I followed the portly Anna up one flight of stairs to inspect her room with the sea view. She turned the key and opened the door. There it was. Two palm trees framed a view that started with light blue waters over gold sand and ended with the deep blue of the South China Sea enveloping a nearby island. I could just see the hazy outline of the mainland where I had come from that morning. Anna told me the price. “That’ll do just fine” I said. I was ready to roll the dice again.***
