Mersing - Gateway to Tioman
The ride south was gentle, a short 62 km distance that allowed me to
linger. Hunger led me to a roadside stall where the mystery of
ingredients became part of the adventure—was there meat in this
dish? My limited Malay left me guessing, but the flavours spoke for
themselves.
Mersing appeared as a gateway, its streets humming with anticipation
of ferries bound for Tioman Island. I arrived too late for the last boat,
but the delay felt like a gift. The Sri Subramaniam Hindu temple
stood nearby, its intricate carvings a feast for the eyes, a reminder
that even waiting can be filled with wonder. That evening, I booked
my ticket, the promise of paradise just one sleep away.
Crossing to Paradise
The ferry skimmed across azure waters, my bike secured for a small
fee, my heart racing with anticipation. In less than two hours, Tioman
rose from the sea, its jungle-clad peaks piercing the sky, its beaches
glowing white against turquoise shallows.
The island felt like a dream made tangible. After weeks of cycling, the
sea breeze and rhythm of waves offered a new kind of journey—one
measured not in kilometres but in moments of stillness. Tioman was
not just a destination; it was a pause, a sanctuary.