Koh Tao

Another island, another beach. Koh Tao is highly recommended by almost anyone who visits Thailand and as such, it because a mandatory stop on the trail. It's unfortunate that it's right next to Koh Pha Ngan though. I was starting to get a little tired of beaches by then. I had sand accumulated from every corner of Thailand at the bottom of my backpack. This would end up being the last beach, possibly for the rest of the trip. I had to relish it.

The boat rolled into the pier, jammed with young tourists, all wearing stickers to identify their destinations. At the base of the pier, taxi drivers sat poised. ready to pounce on the fresh stash of cash that waddled off of the boat. The fat and lame were easy prey. I knew where I wanted to go though. Hat Sai Ri was the longest and most developed beach, stretching a good percentage of the west coast of the island. The whole island was tiny compared to Koh Pha Ngan, and with a motorbike it's possible to drive every stretch of road to every corner in a few hours.

Busting away from the herd, I walked north stopping in every downtrodden-looking guesthouse I could find to inquire about room rates. The absolute cheapest I could find was 300 baht, more than I was used to paying (I was alone now after all), but still an utter steal by Western standards. I dropped my stuff then set out exploring the shoreline.

I had seen many beaches by that point, and Hat Sai Ri was quite descent, by my acquired standards. Many restaurants opened up onto the sand so diners could enjoy the view with their meal. Kids splashed about, people were playing volleyball. It occurred to me at that point that I was utterly alone on this island. No one around who knew who I was. An odd feeling, but I enjoyed slipping through the throngs of tourists anonymously and being able to stick to my own schedule, should I chose to make one.

I did, and booked a dive for 6am the next morning. Last chance to dive so I might as well. The rest of the day I had no idea what the hell I should do so I grabbed my Rollei camera and sat on the beach watching the sunset. It was actually the first time in my life I had ever watched the sun physically dip below the horizon. The colours were stunning and, for the first time of what would be many on this trip, I was kind of disappointed to be enjoying this by myself.

I went to bed early and set the alarm on my ipod very thoroughly. Of all the challenges I've faced on this trip, waking up before 6am would be the toughest. I knew this and took appropriate precautions. 5:30 am alarm, headphones out, volume up, ipod next to my ear. No room for error.

I woke up at 6am, the exact time I had to be 500m up the beach at the dive shop. One factor I didn't account for: the type of alarm. I should have picked the James Bond self-destruct sequence alarm, but instead my ipod was set to that quaint Danny Elfman-esque marimba tune. I hate that tune! Instead of waking up I probably fell further asleep and dreamed I was SCUBA diving with the Desperate Housewives. And why the hell is it that when you have to be somewhere, you always wake up at the exact time you have to be there? At least for my lazy ass it's like that. Of course the lights in my room were not working either, so at 6am sharp I awoke thrashing and swearing in the dark, trying to throw my failure of an existence together while Danny Elfman's picadilly soundtrack played in the background.

It was the 500m dash. About halfway, I threw off my flip flops and continued on the beach. The sun was just coming up, and in any other circumstance, it would have been quite a lovely jog, but in this instance, it was a panicked scramble laced with curse words, I got there at around 6:15. Everyone else was late too thank god. I was actually able to pick up breakfast and lunch for later at 7-Eleven before the rest of the divers showed up. They casually strolled in, "Sorry bro, took a long shower" or whatnot. I showed up frothing at the mouth for Christ's sakes. Maybe I'm not aligned with the island's laid back list of priorities. Whatever. I made it. Let's hurry up and dive dickheads.

We did two dives and they were excellent. The particular shop I went to booked a double-header at Chumphon Point, allegedly the most beautiful place to dive around the island. And it was beautiful. About 18 meters down, a vast coral reef unfolded all around us. So many fish. There were barracuda, angelfish, lionfish, groupers and a fish that looked like an honest to god cube. Everyone in the group was a dive master except for me, so I burned through my oxygen quicker and had to ascend earlier. Some French guy seemed miffed because he had a lot of oxygen left I guess. I think he thought that I couldn't understand him too.

I took a nap and decided that I would "go out" that night. I ate dinner by myself on the beach and afterwards ducked my head into a few bars to check out the scene. The most packed place I found was also the most horribly trashy. Huge shirtless dudes drinking out of sand pails, and drunk, unstately girls slurring absurdities. "Gettin' Jiggy With It" played and a group of girls bopped around like drunk relatives at a wedding. It was pretty embarrassing. I actually stayed there longer than I care to admit. Regardless, it ended up being a bad idea, and a terrible place to be if you were by yourself and not a total dudebro. I went to an internet cafe and hung around outside for a bit, leeching wifi to see if anyone was on Skype. No one was so I went to bed.

Next day I packed up and left. Done with the island. With islands. I longed for the city again. For more variety. Different types of people. Places. No more tourist town cliches. I would be in Bangkok in less than two days. On the boat, I drowned out the insipid chatter with music.

Beautiful sunset.

Fire show on the beach.