by Kyle James
When we arrived at the beach, the man at the dock told us, “Sixty baht each. Run down and catch boat seven.” We paid him the equivalent of about four dollars and hurried down to the flawless blue water. Sure enough, there was a long boat with 7 on it like a NASCAR car. These were the prototypical Thai boats you see on Google Images. I will never forget the look on Ash’s face when the longboat taxi driver waved us over as he stood out in the waist-deep water.
Do not expect these boats to come pick you up on a dock. Two thoughts went through my head as we prepared to enter the warm waters of the Indian Ocean. One, I wish I hadn’t worn my hiking boots that were laced up like boxing gloves; and two, I wish we hadn’t bought all that shit in Chiang Mai. I held both of our fifty-pound backpacks over my head to keep our electronics dry as we waded out to our taxi.
The ride to our beach was rough, but I didn’t care about the bouncing. I didn’t get seasick, and I was far too preoccupied with staring at the coastline. There were massive rocks covered in trees and moss sitting in the neon-blue water. Greece and Croatia had clear blue water, but Thailand’s water had a teal-green tint to it. When it hit the lush green islands, it looked like two vibrant paints colliding on an artist’s easel.
We pulled up to our beach and slowly got to where the boat was in three feet of water. I felt like we had just washed ashore from being lost at sea for months. I looked like Tom Hanks in Castaway, and we walked barefoot on the long white sandy beach until we reached the Railay Beach Resort. Ash spotted it and said, “Here we are!”
As Ash checked in, I looked around. There was a half-mile-long beach that had maybe six people on it. We were surrounded by an amphitheater of cliffs, including the famous rocky cliff jutting out from the beach that looked like a mix between Pride Rock from The Lion King and a tower made of grass. It paid to be here in the low season.
I showered off the travel day and walked into our massive suite to find Ash sitting on one of the two queen beds, watching TV and wearing her complimentary robe and slippers. I was surprised. Not that she had the robe and slippers on, but that she didn’t have the EgyptAir socks on as well.
I had to take a siesta. Getting only two hours of sleep had left me exhausted. Ash told me to come find her later and left for the pool.
I awoke an hour later and had absolutely no idea where I was. I had probably slept in more places over the last four months than the last four years combined. I walked to the beach and saw Ash sitting on the sand. There were zero other people around. This was one of the nicest beaches in Thailand and probably the world, and we had it all to ourselves.
We ate dinner along the water at the resort restaurant. It was pricey, but we didn’t have many options. After dinner, Ash went to shower and I sat along the pool, writing. The sunset was beyond stunning over the water and cliffs. I hoped Ash wouldn’t make it back in time to see this because I knew I would get summoned for pictures.
But she arrived back and saw it from miles away. I quickly tried to snap her out of the hypnosis. “What time is our bus tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah, sure,” she replied, gazing longingly at the sky.
Shit … I’ve lost her. The glowing sun receded into the horizon and painted the sea a mixture of orange, red, and yellow. I watched as girls with cameras flocked to the beach, dragging their Instagram husbands/boyfriends behind them.
“Hey, we should go take pictures!” she said enthusiastically, and left the pool to dry off.
Damn you, Sun. Why can’t you ever just pull an Irish good-bye and disappear without showboating? I sighed heavily, pounded my beer, grabbed the Canon, and followed Ash to the beach, where other fellas were snapping shots of their girls pretending to be walking casually out toward the sea.
We had left the northern jungle of Chiang Mai and the busy lifestyle with it. We had another ten-hour travel day that had consisted of walking, riding in the bed of a truck, flying, busing, wading, and boating. As exhausting as these days could be, we were always rewarded in the end. I was starting to realize how much we were going to miss this. It was happening too fast.
I watched Ash skip out to sea with joy I had never seen before. It was almost as if this was where she belonged. “Slow down, Ash!” I yelled as she set off to the beach. “Let’s take it all in before it disappears.”
She ran toward the sunset and said, “It’s going to be over soon, Kyle. Come on!”
I know it is, baby, I know it is.
9/11/15
Railay Beach, Thailand
I glanced at my phone during breakfast, and the date was the first thing I noticed. The phrase synonymous with 9/11 is “Never Forget,” but how could anyone? I still remember exactly where I was on that awful day in 2001, and I am positive you do too. Despite the terror, fear, and uncertainty our entire country experienced on that fall day in September, it was beyond inspiring to see our country come together afterward. Unfortunately, I feel like our country is split now more than ever.
Ash and I told our 9/11 stories to each other, as we did every year, and left to swim in the Indian Ocean for the first time. This left only the Southern and Arctic Oceans for me to swim in. I didn’t anticipate either of those happening, and when the hell did they come up with the Southern Ocean? I definitely missed that geography memo.
Ash had read somewhere that Railay Beach was famous for its rock climbing, and she signed us up for it through the hotel. We were instructed to meet at the front desk at noon, where our guide would pick us up. At twelve on the dot, a small man with dreads down to his butt arrived. He greeted us both, and we followed him to the other side of the Railay Beach peninsula.
“Have you guys ever rock climbed before?” he asked.
We replied simultaneously yes/no, and looked at each other, confused at the other’s response.
He smiled back at us and told us it was no problem; there were routes for everyone. We passed through a small village with a few shops and restaurants that sat in the middle of the peninsula between the two beaches. Ash began to get nervous as we got closer. She is always so good at things, especially athletic things, but she gets so embarrassed to do things in front of people.
We emerged from the jungle to another beach that was much less glamorous than the one on our side. He led us to a small hut and gave us our belts, shoes, and chalk. He then introduced us to our guide for the day, Paul. We also had one other solo climber coming with us today. He walked up to us and introduced himself.
Danny was an experienced climber who did this often as a hobby. He had done a good bit of outdoor climbing in Arizona, where he’d grown up. He was in medical school at Ohio State.
“There she is!” Paul then exclaimed, pointing to a rock face in front of us.
What, that cliff going straight into the sky? No way in hell we were climbing that shit, right? Danny belayed for Paul as he climbed up to get the hooks for the carabineers ready. Paul looked like an actual monkey climbing a tree, utilizing his freakishly long arms to swing from rock to rock. He brought his legs up simultaneously in one fluid motion and reached the top of the wall we were climbing in a matter of minutes. I was cursing myself under my breath for the three months of beer, gelato, and food that were about to weigh me down. I was here with my girlfriend, an expert local climber, and Danny the muscular climbing med student. Fuck.
Paul came down and switched sides with Danny, who climbed the wall at almost the same speed as Paul. Dammit, Danny. I was hoping you were bullshitting and were actually going to suck. It was my turn. Ash looked at me with encouragement. I couldn’t let her down now. So I acted like I knew what I was doing and took the approach I took in all things in life: I faked it until I made it. I started up the wall, and after only a few minutes had made it to the top easily.
When Ash was prepping for her turn, she became nervous and I assured her she would be great. Sure enough, she was a natural and glided up the wall with ease. She made it back down, and we all high-fived at our first wall victory.
Paul und
id the harness, and we all walked to the next wall. It took him a while to climb the next rock. When he got down, he was sweating profusely and out of breath. He fought words through his frequent exhales and said to us, “This one is just for Danny; it is very advanced.”
Come again, Paul? I thought: I was not about to get bitched in front of my girlfriend.
“I want to try it,” I told Paul confidently, and put my knot on first before he could say no.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “This is the most difficult climb of the day.”
“Yeah, I’m positive. I will go first.”
From the first hold, I knew I had outkicked my coverage here. The grips were small, and many were only wide enough for a few fingers. I knew Ash was down there watching me with hope, and Danny and Paul with doubt. I had reached a point where the only grip was going to be a jump. I prepped my legs for action and did a few practice squats before lunging up. I managed to get three fingers in the slight indentation, but I was slipping fast; I put all my weight into those three fingers and lifted a leg quickly, just as my hand slipped away. I lunged again and found a secure grip at the last millisecond. It was a bit of a combo move, and when I made the jump, I heard the three of them cheering and clapping below. I made it to the top minutes later, and when I came down, it was both a great and embarrassing feeling to hear the surprise in their voices as they congratulated me.
Ash started climbing the next wall as it began to rain. She still killed it. It was inspiring to see her use her arms and legs to propel herself up. When she came back down, she warned me that this wall was more difficult to climb than it looked. I should have listened. I got cocky and injured my forearm falling four feet down the cliff. Idiot.
Railay Beach is on the bucket list of the most serious climbers around the world, and we knew we were lucky to have experienced it. We went to bed that night and realized we had not yet booked a place to stay in Ko Samui the next night. Most people might panic, but we were too busy basking in our climbing victories. What was the worst that could happen? We’d sleep on the beach in the Gulf of Thailand? Everything would work itself out. The panic and planning could wait for another day.
9/12/15
Railay Beach, Thailand → Ko Samui, Thailand
When our alarm went off at nine, we remembered the crucial fact that we had nowhere to stay tonight. We quickly did some research and booked a resort in Ko Samui before taking one of the boats to the mainland.
Our boat pulled into the same port we had arrived in, and we walked up to a bus station full of travelers. When it came time for our trip, we entered the bus, and I was pleasantly surprised by how nice it was. I mean, it was no FlixBus, but it did have reclining seats and AC. We had a six-hour ride from one coast of Thailand to the other.
I took a nap and awoke a few hours later to the sound of raindrops pelting the bus. I looked out the window and saw nothing but palm trees and deep brush. We were far in the jungle at this point, and every break in the trees showed people walking in fields and riding motorbikes through paths. It dawned on me as I gazed out at the lush green colors how many different landscapes I had observed from bus windows.
Soon the rainy lullaby and dark sky put me right back to sleep in my reclined chair. I didn’t wake again until we’d arrived in Ko Samui.
When we arrived at the station, we waited in the shade for our ferry. We’d chosen to explore the three islands in the Gulf of Thailand rather than stay on the Indian Ocean. Ko Samui was the first and biggest of the islands in the gulf. It was the second biggest island in Thailand after Phuket.
We were surprised at how busy the streets of Ko Samui were. I guess I’d imagined something similar to Railay Beach. This was a busy island, and there was plenty of opportunities for business with all the tourists. Our taxi driver must have had all the resorts memorized because he sped off at our first two syllables.
“Fair House Resort,” the driver said when we reached our destination. We tipped him and walked up to one of those typical hotel check-in roundabouts. The resort was rated four stars on TripAdvisor, but you could tell it had been five stars in the nineties and they just hadn’t upgraded anything.
We checked in, and the woman at the front desk drove us on a golf cart to our fifty-eight-dollar-a-night suite. Admittedly, our room was in an odd area of the resort, and Ash gave me a nervous glance. “Well, it does have character,” I told her. We were beginning to second-guess our stay on the island.
To get some fresh air and escape our outdated room, we hailed a red taxi from the main road and headed to Chaweng Beach.
The man dropped us off in a very vibrant scene full of shopping, nightlife, and massages: three of Ash’s favorite things. We ordered mai tais from a liquor cart on the side of the road and strolled the promenade. Shopping always lifted Ash’s mood.
At the end of the market was a makeshift food court. We walked along the path and perused the menus. All the owners were standing in front of their shops, yelling their specials at us. We smiled and continued walking until we came to a guy the size of a sumo wrestler. He was standing with a five-foot-tall guy who could have fit in my backpack. It was the oddest duo I had seen in a while. They both smiled sincerely and bowed their heads as a greeting, not saying a word. Finally, people who let their food speak for itself. We sat down in their restaurant, and they both looked at each other like they had just won the lottery. All the other owners threw their hands up in disbelief.
We both ordered our favorite dish, cashew chicken stir-fry, and two large beers. Before the sumo wrestler left our table, he said, “I will make sure our mom makes it especially good for you two.” This was when I knew we’d made the right choice; not only were we supporting a mother and her sons, they were honored to have our business.
It had been quite a day, and I could tell we were both getting tired. Not just from today but from the last three months. Sleeping in different beds every few nights and spending long hours crunched on buses, planes, boats, and cars was finally catching up to us. Not to mention being sick numerous times. These last few weeks on the islands in the gulf were going to be a great way to reset before we returned to the US.
9/13/15
Ko Samui, Thailand
We had truly only experienced one day at the beach so far in Thailand, and even that had been cut short by rock climbing. We were eager to find the beach and spend the day doing nothing. I didn’t know what to expect as we walked down the pathways of the nineties resort. There were pools everywhere, but there was no one in them. This place really shut down during the rainy season.
As soon as we emerged from the resort grounds, we were immediately ashamed of ourselves for being unhappy last night. The beach looked like a postcard. The white sand was untouched, and the water was just calm enough to be gentle yet had enough waves to avoid looking like a lake. There were even beach chairs and umbrellas set up for the guests. We were the only guests, so we picked the chairs in the very front. That way, even if anyone came later, we would still be staring at the sea.
We spread out towels on the chairs and got situated. Once we were comfortable, I turned to Ash and said, “Now what?” But she had rolled over to take a nap.
I decided to get in the water and dove into the warm sea. It felt amazing, and I can honestly say the water was warmer than shower water. I think it just felt that way because the clouds had covered the sky, and there was a light drizzle every ten minutes or so.
Eventually I retreated to the chairs to lie out. I was only doing this so I didn’t have to write. It is amazing what humans will find joy in doing while procrastinating.
The struggle I was having with writing this book was timing. When I had time to write, I wasn’t in the mood. I was usually drinking at a bar with Ash when the creative juices started flowing. This was why I’d decided to write this book in handwritten journals. I brought my journal with me everywhere, and found myself writing at bars and restaurants, and in massage chairs. I have a newfound respect for people
who write for a living. Deadlines don’t give a shit what mood you’re in.
With not much motivation to write, we headed back to the Chaweng Beach downtown area. Our first stop was, of course, our local food shack. When the two guys standing at the front saw us, they immediately gave a wai and shook our hands with both hands. The looks on their faces when they realized they had loyal customers who were coming on back-to-back nights were priceless.
After our second night in Ko Samui, our outlook on the island had completely changed. It just goes to show how much your view on something can change when you get to know it. We had arrived in the darkness last night and had chosen to let our moods be ruined by our first impression. The light of the morning had brought us a bright new view on Ko Samui.
9/14/15
Ko Samui, Thailand
We awoke and immediately headed to the beach for breakfast. As we lay on our chairs, I started thinking about our return home. We would be ending this journey in two weeks, and I couldn’t tell if it felt like we had been gone for years or days. The one thing I was sure of was how proud I was of us. Not only had we decided not to be okay with our average lives, we’d acted on it. Ash was a teacher and I worked for a nonprofit; it wasn’t like we were bankers who’d left to live this lavish traveling life. We’d saved every dime we’d made for months. I was proud of us for surviving this trip as a couple and for surviving this trip in general. I was proud of us for learning and trying new things and for learning from each other and those around us.
It turns out that the whole rainy season thing carried weight. It started pouring on us again around four, so we decided to leave the beach and get ready for our routine night in Chaweng Beach. Without mopeds, it was hard to be motivated to pay for taxis to any of the surrounding villages.
Our taxi dropped us off in Chaweng Beach, and we strolled down the streets. We had cashew chicken to eat, locals to please, and massages to get. The food was as good as expected, and the sumo wrestler and small guy were as nice as always. The massage was a bit more painful than expected. We got the traditional Thai massage, and it felt like a UFC fight with our hands tied behind our back. It would be leg massages only from here on out.