CNY Break

Chinese New Year is a giant celebration in any Chinese-populated nations, and the festival is spread out over the month preceeding and through the weeks that follow it. The old aunties are practically trembling with excitement because all their relatives visit for reunion meals, give auspicious gifts and generally promote prosperity through traditional irrational superstitions.

But with the holiday comes hordes of people, turning high-energy but completely managable Singapore into a clusterfuck of endless queues, more people in the way than ever before, and enough traffic to make my daily commute to Starbucks more treacherous than Frogger. To escape such antics, I joined five friends on a CNY break to Tioman Island, Malaysia, where the only evidence of the New Year is in the room rates the resort has managed to inflate for the big night.

Amigos on the 4-day vacance-bleu, from L to R: Anisha (UVA), Myra (UPenn), Erfaan (UVA), Jonas (Norway), moi, and Paresh (UVA).

So geographically, Singapore is at the tip of Malaysia, and the two are connected via highway. Tioman is a three-hour drive from the border, then 90 minutes by ferry off Malaysia's East coast. In preparation for the taxi voyage, we went out to Cafe Iguana, the favorite bar with 1/2 off happy hour and giant pitchers of everything, until the wee hours, savored just over an hour of shut-eye, and met up with the crew in town. The cab ride was supposed to be 2 hours but actually took 4. The fault was mutual as we were an hour late for our cab (Malaysia's are the world's oldest cabs in use, I swear)--obligatory McDonald's stop--but the cab driver's nasty habit of falling asleep with his eyes open at the wheel somewhat hindered our progress because he sacrificed his concept of speed when he hit REM in Johor Bahru. Once we got to the Mersing jetty, we waited impatiently in line for the 11:30 ferry which arrived promptly...at 1:15. Mersing doesn't fail to meet Asia's characteristic dirtiness specification, which has become quite comfortable and even pleasant to me now. Shops are poorly kept, in disarray, coated with scum...people smell badly and stare often, but are incredibly kind and take pains to help you find your way.

At the jetty, unsure of which end of the line was the front, we greedily edged further and further toward the suspected gate, only to find out that the entrance was in fact behind us, and the boat was full anyway. Damn. Enough bitching, we got on a boat eventually, it was packed, and the water became bluer and bluer as we came closer to Tioman.

We stayed at the Berjaya Resort, a 5-star golf course resort, because it was available and actually reasonably priced at $40/person. Berjaya monopolizes the beach near the town of Tekek, so it really doesn't have to do anything very well to get the business it needs. The pool was beautiful, the beach was lovely, the room was comfortable, the landscaping was well-done, and the surroundings indeed tropical, all of which more than made up for the lame food and disinterested service. Or maybe they were pissed that we made personal investments in Jack Daniels and juice from local shops down the road.



During the days, we had buffet breakfast, sat at the beach or by the pool, walked into town, or took a boat taxi to other parts of the island for snorkeling. I passed up a jungle trek (why oh WHY would I do that??) but had a hilarious day with Myra, so no real loss. At night, we played hours of Never Have I Ever which morphed into Truth or Dare, drank more, dipped skinnily, or took a boat taxi to other towns for bars and hookahs. I haven't been so relaxed or stagnant for months.

I loved the weekend and the trip, especially the people, but resort life inspires sloth-like instincts to emerge. Now that I'm back, I've dedicated the coming weeks to physical activity and buffet avoidance. As I type, I'm in my PADI scuba certification class (we're on break, worry not), and will return to Malaysia next weekend for open water dives.

Rock on. Back to class, Beer out.