From the highlands of Malaysia it was time to visit the islands for which this country is so famous for. These include the isolated Perhentians or Pulau Perhentian in Malay, on the Eastern side of the country. I had heard raves from multiple travellers about these two islands: Perhentian Besar (big) and Perhentian Kecil (small) which are part of the Pulau Redang National Marine Park so I figured I would have to check them out.

To get here required an eight hour bus/van ride from the Camroon Highlands to Khota Baru port, a half hour 'ferry' ride (read: a small outboard with too many backpackers) and finally a water taxi (canoe with motor) into the beach of your choice. Without roads and two habitable islands to pick from this was pretty much a guessing game for me and my travel buddy. We had not realised the lack of mobility between beaches on the islands.

A Dutch couple we met on the make-shift ferry were far more organised and suggested a beach area and a bungalow where they were going on the small island. Sounded as good as any so we followed suit. After finding a tree-hidden bungalow we quickly jumped into our swimsuits to enjoy the turquoise water that surrounds the jungle-clad island.

Besides our bungalow there were about eight other accommodation options, three restaurants, a few scuba diving/snorkelling vendors and two convenient stores/shacks with a few bags of potato chips. We were isolated.

I don't generally stay still for very long, however, and, well, I've grown up with turquoise water so I sat on the less-than-impressive beach the first afternoon wondering what I was going to do with myself. Trash dotted the white sand that has not been maintained by the locals who benefit from the tourism it attracts. So, though we planned for four days here because it took so much just to land on the beach, I was seriously rethinking the time-line.

The next morning I would give the islands another chance. If the land didn't impress maybe what lay below could. I walked into the scuba shop with just a bathing suit and walked out with an air tank, wet suit, mask and snorkel ready to try my first diving experience!

Yes, I know I am Bermudian. Yes I know we have amazing dive sites (though I have never personally seen them from anywhere but the top of the water). But I am a claustrophobe and I always worried I would not be able to handle being 30 feet under water and not be able to save myself if something went wrong. It's amazing what shear boredom will convince me to do. Still unsure I was ready for an entire PADI course I signed-up for a one-off dive. Accompanied by my travel buddy, who had certified in Vietnam, and an instructor my fear quickly disappeared. From Angel Fish to puffers, sea fans to giant clams, I was immersed in a world that I only cleaned while working for years at the Aquarium.

No more snorkelling for me. I was finally transitioning from the automatic to the manual car and found my fear evaporating with every kick of the fin. Above water I signed-up for the full PADI course and spent the next four days with prune-like hands and square eyes as I tried to finish the DVD and book exercises.

Finally after three exhausting two-dive days, where spotted rays entertained and damsel fish bit, I passed my test and was ready for my first fun dive.

While I had kept myself busy my travel buddy found relaxing on the beach the way to go. We had moved from the original bungalow (mould was growing more on the ceiling than were my lungs) and electricity in the new, cliff-side bungalows only worked from 7 p.m. until 7 a.m. That meant without a fan it was incredibly hot. The reason? The island has no electricity. Diesel generators supply what few lights do exist.

What became even more challenging was our choice visiting these sparse islands on the biggest holiday of the year: Hari Raya. After spending weeks not eating during daylight, Muslims celebrated the end of Ramadan with their families. The island shut down.

This was tricky for me because of all the scuba diving I was starving. One night we spent four hours waiting at the one restaurant that remained open. The second? M&Ms. It also meant fresh water was lacking. This would come back to haunt me.

Ready to get off the island and to start eating again, my travel buddy and I decided to go on one last dive. It was well worth it. For $25 we were transported to a cone-shaped rock in the middle of the ocean. Circling this rock formation we met a hawksbill turtle, rays, moray eels, sharks and more types of fish than I can seriously record in this article. It was an incredible cap to this difficult, but interesting time on the islands.

Repeating the water-taxi/ferry process we arrived in time to catch a lift with a few tourists heading for the Khota Baru airport. Throwing the backpacking lifestyle to the wind, we decided on flights to Bali, Indonesia, because, like Europe, Asia has an amazing amount of low cost carriers making it easy to travel (we were also stuck because buses were not operating on the holiday).

Why Bali? More than being a destination of choice for about every Australian my friend Lee, who I met on a TEFL course six years ago, lives there and I couldn't think of a better place to spend my ... birthday.

By the time I was greeted by a smiling Lee, I wasn't quite as happy. Dehydration? Wheat? I don't know. All I do know is I spent a very unhappy few days on Bali.

When I recovered I began enjoying being in an apartment. After spending nine months on the road just having a fridge that no one else used was a luxury.

Bali is one of Indonesia's 33 provinces and far more relaxed than the rest of the country. More than three million people live on the 153 km wide and 112 km long island and is mostly Hindu compared to the Muslim majority that inhabits the rest of Indonesia.

It has everything from erupting volcanoes to great surf spots and amazing restaurants.

Lee lived about five minutes from the beach and the surfing centre of the island – Kuta on the southern coast. So what else did we do when I finally recovered? Go surfing. With Lee and one of his friends to instruct us we rented boards from one of the ubiquitous stalls on the beach and headed for the water. I drank half of the ocean and nearly turned into a prune, but six hours later I stood-up on the board twice and rode two waves.

When we could drag our waterlogged bodies from Kuta beach (that's hard when it is surrounded by some amazing restaurants and bars not to mention surf) we took the motorbike we rented up to Tanah Lot. This temple was about 45 minutes away from Lee's house and sits off the mainland on a rock eroded around the bottom by the sea. We made it to the temple with some time to spare before sunset. The temple is stunning, fixed on a rock outcrop with green, algae-drenched rocks circling it with the feet of pilgrims scrambling over them. As the sun decided to leave, shrouding the green in red, so did we.

Next stop: Off my friend Lee's couch to see the rest of Bali.