Getting comfortable with doing nothing

“Don’t worry,” I’d told Krista. “I’ll find you guys. How many ferry ports can Koh Samui have?”

Well, it turns out this not-so-little island in the Gulf of Thailand has more than a dozen ferry terminals.

It was 7:30 in the morning, and I’d spent the last 13 hours in transit via bus and ferry from Bangkok. Somewhere overhead, Krista, Brian and Dave were making their way into the area, and the plan was to meet at the ferry terminal.

Of course, we didn’t exactly have all our ducks in a row. None of us knew at which ferry ports we’d be arriving or at what time. Since there were three of them traveling together and I was traveling alone, and likely arriving before them, I assumed responsibility for finding them.

I staked out a café veranda from which I could watch two ferry terminals – nobody could tell me which of the two my friends would arrive at, but at least we’d narrowed it down. In the next four hours, I hastily ran down one pier after another thinking I’d spotted them, but it was eventually they who spotted me.

Together at last, we hopped another ferry to Koh (Island) Phangnan, a pickup-truck taxi ride across the island and then a longboat ride to the secluded Bottle Beach, protected by a little bay. Twenty-four hours after my journey began, I was housed in a little bungalow and cannon balling into the pool.

You can walk from one end of Bottle Beach to the other in about 15 minutes – if you’re strolling leisurely, which is really the only way to stroll if you’re trying to get into the island lifestyle. This little enclave supports three sets of bungalows appropriately names Beach Bottle I, Beach Bottle II and Beach Bottle III – I’m still not really sure where we’re staying, but it’s spacious, clean, has air conditioning and is running us about U.S. $35/person for five nights here, so I’m not complaining.

After the frenzy of Bangkok sightseeing, I looked around the quiet spot and knew I’d have to get used to doing nothing fast. Still, doing nothing takes some getting used to, and to ease into it, Brian and I decided to hike to the next beach town over for some provisions.

The steep, hour-long trek, turned into nearly two hours when we got lost, but we eventually found the little beach village – deserted now because it’s low season – and stocked up on some necessities, like rum, cigarettes and some local herb, which made the hike back to Bottle Beach much easier.

Then it was four more days of stretching out on the wide ribbon of white sand, paddling around in the jade sea and lounging by the pool. We mixed it up with decadent meals and games of cards and dice. It’s a rough job but someone’s gotta do it.