They say travel is about the journey, not the destination. But sometimes the journey is long, boring, and frustrating.
I spent the evening on a bus from Singapore that would take me to Kuantan, Malaysia. It was an uncomfortable ride; I've never understood why buses need to be as freezing cold as they always are.
In the middle of the night, the bus pulled up in front of a fancy hotel and told me to get off. After handing me my backpack, they drove off, leaving me confused and very angry. This most certainly was not the bus station I imagined. I was informed there was no room for me at the hotel, which was fine because I never would have been able to afford it anyways. The hotel guard gave me a chair and I sat down next to him at the gate, wondering what the heck I was supposed to do now.
Some time later, a van pulled up. "Let me ask my friend," the guard said. The van driver could take me to the bus station in Kuantan, the guard said, so that I could get a bus and meet my friend in Cherating on time (the story I told the guard instead of admitting I was on my own). After thinking about the situation for a minute (like I always do before getting into a vehicle with a stranger), I decided it should be okay and I got in.
The bus station was big. The gravel parking lot I was standing in was filled with big white tents and some red and yellow taxis. The station in front of me was a two-story building with blue- and white-tiled platforms underneath and the waiting area up above. It was still dark and the platforms were all empty. A sign that read "Kounter Tiket" directed me upstairs, where lots of people were waiting for their buses and sleeping on the wooden benches. It was cluttered, and it certainly wasn't clean. One wall was lined with ticket booths, but they were all closed. Besides that, I didn't see "Cherating" on any of the signs.
I found an empty spot on a bench and decided to settle in. A young man beside me said hello and we talked for a bit. When I told him where I was going, he told me to wait until 7 (then still over an hour away) before looking for tickets. I tried to make myself comfortable and prepare myself for the long wait.
I was half-asleep when a station worker called up from the platforms below. I imagined he was talking about the arrival of a bus, but of course I really had no idea. He came up to the waiting area and the young guy beside me exchanged a few words with him. He told me to follow the older man downstairs, so I grabbed my bag and headed off, excited I might be on my way soon.
But when I got downstairs, I was told that I was at the wrong bus station; this was the long-distance station and I needed to go to the local one. Of course, a taxi driver was more than happy to drive me there. Frustrated, I refused, instead wanting to walk myself there with the hopes that the walk would calm me down.
I got directions and started off. Right, then left, straight through the lights, then right again---simple enough, right? But before I even made my first turn I realized I shouldn't be doing this. 1) I suck at directions in general, 2) I couldn't see where the first turn was, 3) I'm alone, 4) I'm in Malaysia, and 5) it's still dark. I turned around and, with a sheepish look on my face, went back to the taxi driver.
He seemed irritated I didn't go with him the first time he offered. In fact, he told me so. While we drove, I noticed we weren't going the way he had told me to talk, so I asked him where we were going. He got angry and started yelling at me. "Why don't you trust me?" he said. "Why do you keep asking me? It's a one-way street so I have to go around!" I could see that this taxi ride would do nothing to cheer me up.