I’m not sure why, but I find myself struggling to write, or even to want to write, about our travels. Not because we’re not enjoying ourselves. On the contrary, we’re loving every minute of it. Rather, I think there are two reasons: first, we’re very much in the moment, and I don’t often feel like stepping away from the moment to then reflect on it and write about it. Second, as lovely as our travels have been, I don’t think they are objectively interesting to outsiders. Great to live, boring to read about. I’m generally of the opinion that I’m an idiot and it’s strange that anyone at all wants to hear what I have to say, but then “here’s another travelogue from a rich, white, westerner who goes to Southeast Asia and raves about the (take your pick: food, culture, beaches, nature, people)” takes it to the next level. As the Germans say, “zum Kotzen”. Makes me want to vomit. But, dear readers, I’m writing for me, so I can relive this later, not so I can become an influencer, and you signed up for it anyway, so get your vomit bags ready :)

Krabi / Ao Nang

From Bangkok we headed south on a supposedly beautiful, supposedly 9-hour train ride to Surat Thani, from where we’d hop over to the coast & islands for beach time. You should take the train regardless, but don’t do it for the scenery, because you’ll be disappointed. Do it at night, so when it takes an extra hour or two, you sleep through it anyway. Our first stop was Ao Nang, near Krabi. Hard-core Cancun, party, and hook-up vibes. This was also reinforced by some of the massage parlors, where indecent proposals were politely made (and refused, of course!). Not what we were looking for. That, plus the 36 hours of food poisoning (from a posh Italian restaurant of all places), and Ao Nang left a bad taste in my mouth. Ha, vomit pun, still on theme.

We did take a day trip to Railay beach from Ao Nang, and that was really nice, the first time we all kind of felt like we had finally found the beach paradises for which Thailand is famous.

Koh Jum and Koh Mook

From Ao Nang we took the ferry to Koh Jum where we stayed in these picture-perfect bungalows with a view of the sea. Two days there exploring, every beach like a postcard. With scooters, you could cross the island in 20 minutes or so, which we did.

Then over to Koh Mook for more picturesque beaches, lots of great snorkeling where I actually saw a moray eel, and delicious food. 

We also kayaked to a cave (Emerald cave), where you swim through the cave with the aid of a headlamp for about 40 meters, after which you pop out into a little beach which has been dropped as if by magic into the surrounding jungle & limestone cliffs. We miraculously arrived about 15 minutes before everyone else left, leaving us alone with a little piece of paradise.

A side trip

…in the figurative sense. Dylan, for reasons unknown, was keen on taking advantage of Thailand’s recently relaxed marijuana laws, but was not keen to do so alone. I’ve been high maybe 10 times in my entire life, the most recent of which was probably 15 years ago. Despite the distant and limited experience, I nonetheless knew that anything beyond a baby dose makes me anti-social and can become quite unpleasant for me. In other words, I knew better. But I guess I was feeling liberated by not having any adult responsibilities for the next 9.5 months, by which time I would no doubt recover, so I joined in anyway. And what happened? Exactly what I expected. Even the beginner dose recommended by the shop was too much. 45 minutes felt like 3 hours, and I started to imagine that the other restaurant patrons knew our senses had abandoned us and the kids waiting our table were ashamed of me. I also couldn’t tell if I was holding my water glass so tightly that it would shatter, or so loosely that I’d drop it. And Dylan wasn’t doing much better. He got his meal before anyone and proceeded to eat his fish by using his fingers to claw the flesh away from the bone and shovel it onto his fork, though I’m pretty sure he was just eating the bones as well. Which would have been hilarious, except I was thinking the entire time that I wouldn’t even have been able to manage that, to pick up a fork and actually hit the target. So I excused myself and had Vera escort me home, a journey of 2 minutes which somehow I perceived as a death march into the jungle, and Dylan perceived as me going off to die. Then I followed her orders to take off my shoes, brush my teeth, etc, and proceeded to sleep for 12 hours. What an absurd, hilariously awful experience that I am for some strange reason happy to have had. Feels good to make terrible decisions with no consequences and relearn / confirm lessons that I learned in my early 20s. Gotta grow old, don’t have to grow up ;)