Travel diaries - Life at a Bungalow in Thailand

Koh Tao, Thailand. It's January 2018, as I sit down to write this post facing this beautiful view over Shark bay, I had to laugh at myself from time to time, remembering that I almost crossed out this island from my list.

When I started this solo-two-month-travel 25 days ago, I didn't have any plan other than where to start and where to end the whole journey. I decided that I would choose along the way where to go next, and of course the people I would meet and their recommendations would play a big role.

That's how I heard that Koh Tao, Koh Samui and Ko Phangan are "islands where you don't want to go".
Funnily enough I heard the same of almost every island in the west coast of Thailand as well, nevertheless I decided to do my own research before deciding to skip all of the Thai islands at once and fly to Sumatra in Indonesia (Yeah I almost made that mistake)

Luckily enough I found out that Koh Tao was indeed the place I wanted to be at. I was looking for a paradise that blended turquoise water, palms, trees and mountains, rocks and not much people. So I booked the flights from Chiang Mai to Bangkok, and from there to Surattani airport, to later take a bus and a ferry, on this 13,5 hour journey.

Since I landed in Surattani airport I knew I was at the right side of the country. All of the vegetation was all I was yearning for. Last minute, at the airport I searched for accommodation, and decided to treat myself this time -- after many dorms for the previous weeks --, with a place right at the coast, my own little palace. I learned also that I wanted to stay at the south, since the center Sairee is the so claimed touristy area that I wanted to avoid at all cost.

For 35 Euros I rented a small bungalow that faced Shark Bay, where every single night of those three I stayed I got to listen to the waves crashing on the rocks, and a couple of tourists jumping in the water to see fluorescent fish through their snorkel masks from my queen-sized bed that occupied the full length of the room, and I would fall asleep that way, cocooned by the sea.

I stopped using the alarm during the mornings and having a bed time. I would swim and talk to other tourists in the near-by "On the Rock" beach, and after that just lie down on my balcony while listening to some music and practicing the deliciousness of doing nothing, so called by the Italians Il dolce far niente. Just being.
Every morning yoga has injected the right amount of exercise into my day, and after that some meditation time would feel like the perfect seal to start the day.

But my hut was so far from being a castle. The bathroom didn't have a proper shower, this actually fell down while using it last night. The toilet didn't have a tank, so old school I would use a bucket and a pot instead. There were holes on the floor, and i felt tempted to complain... I totally expected the place to be tidy and pretty inside. Instead the curtains had stains and the door didn't close properly from inside.

Still I was lucky enough that the bed was good enough to sleep, and decided to practice more and more gratefulness instead. I realised from there, being totally alone in this ugly but well-located bungalow, how little we need in order to be happy. How the mere fact of hearing the ocean every day, almost all day long was all I needed. How I noticed that water was still water whether it comes from the tap or from a bucket. How much I can enjoy myself and the deliciousness of feeling at peace with where you are at in life, because all that matters is now, that exact moment lying on the floor feeling the wind playing with your hair and your clothes, while a smile scapes unnoticed for no reason.

At night I went to Chalok beach, where not so many tourist where hanging around and with whom I had dinner and drinks and laughs.
Another night I indulged myself with a glass of wine while talking with two other girls from Germany, and I got to do a double celebration with them...a PHD for one and the birthday of the other.

Is that openness of the new people on your route, those unexpected celebrations, those afternoons of blue water and wind and lying on the floor of my little palace what really matters, and what makes Koh Tao from now on so special for me.

With love,
Mindi