We walked out onto the tarmac to the visual of our plane to take us to Tiomen Island. The plane appeared to be a converted WW2 fighter plane. There were only about seats for 10 passengers. As we climbed aboard the stewardess gave us a carton of orange juice each and ear plugs. At about now we realized we were really in for an adventure. 

We took off with us seated near the front, no division between us and the pilots in the c*** pit. About a half hour into the flight we flew straight into a storm, the rain was lashing the airplane. We were stunned when the pilot turned on car type windscreen wipers and somewhat nervous when the plane began to leak.
 
After what seemed an eternity the Island came into view below - an awesome sight. The plane banked and started to sharply descend towards the island, all we could see were palm trees and mountain. Where do we land? Now directly below were tops of palms with seemingly no clearance and no airstrip!! Then a sudden drop and the wheels touched down on a short runway, but directly in front was cliff face. The pilots released a parachute and with brakes squealing the plane pulled up with metres to spare.
 
We gratefully alighted to a typical tropical island view. There was no terminal building but there were several Immigration/Customs officers waiting at some tables under a shade. With so few passengers everyone was searched. We had in our luggage a half finished bottle of scotch and some Cleo magazines both of which attracted considerable interest. We just said 'keep them' which they were happy with and we headed to the resort
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The resort was paradise, we spent our days by the pool racking up substantial bar and food tabs. The girls were in double paradise as there was a tri nation naval exercise being conducted off the island and the girls had no shortage of dance partners at the evening functions!. One day we found some energy and walked over the central island mountain. At the top was a very picturesque waterfall where some French people were taking a dip. Bill, who arrived first, claimed when he got there, some of the girls were frolicking in the nude!

The waterfall is reputably the one filmed for the movie South Pacific.
We reached the other side in time for lunch and a feed of fresh caught local fish from a very small local cafe. What we didn't eat was cleaned up by two backpacker girls who reported they had been camped for weeks in the beach huts for about $2 a night. The huts were very basic, actually they were pretty much bare, but the site had to be worth millions in the real world.

While we were having lunch we spotted a sign announcing a ferry service could take us back to the resort. Music to our ears, not to have to climb back over the island. The ferry service was a "milk run" and called into several small villages. The jetty's for each village were total ramshackle affairs but seemed to do the job even if a bit skew whiff. 
 
After a most relaxing holiday it was time to head back to the airstrip. This time we were to travel in a converted jeep carrier plane. Again orange juice and ear plugs. The plane reversed to the cliff face, then the pilot stood on the brake and gunned the engines. Both engines had to reach 100 before take off, one engine achieved this quickly, the other was a bit sluggish. Not exactly comforting. Once both engines achieved the required revs the plane was released and we catapulted off the runway, over the palms and on our way back to Singapore, then home. No rain going home but the vehicle door leaked air which was pretty uncomfortable. (more mentally)
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