Commentary on hookahs, smoke rings, and The Dream

This Open Road series is a recounting of Mike’s trek through South East Asia. Read on as Love, Sabotage, and Intrigue pave his road to a discovery of what human potential really is.

The landing of the plane changes everything; day job is gone, friends are memories, and a black and blue bag is what I call “home.”

But for some reason, I can’t stop smiling as I slide through customs into Krabi, Thailand. There’s something liberating about leaving it all behind, simply dropping it all so you can pick up and go. From here on out it’s me, the Open Road, and my cautiously optimistic trust in humanity.

Krabi, on the western shore of Thailand, is mostly a hub to the vaunted western islands of Phuket, Ko Phi Phi, and their ilk. For me, it’s a hub to the east and the storied island of Ko Pha Ngan, home to the Full Moon Party.

Except I have no idea how to get there.

Having snuck through this airport a month prior, a rough memory of a small bus ticket stand tickled my memory. The Lonely Planet made this east-bound journey sound easy, so prepare I did not.

But there was the stand, dashed with wide Thai smiles (and eyes glossed over with gold, I would later recognize). Why yes, that integrated ticket all the way to the island sounds superb.

$20 seemed fair. At the time.

It was worth the spectacle to my Western mind, though, to see just how efficiently this “developing” country could ferry me across their land seemingly supported only by cell phones and walkie talkies.

The bus stops somewhere downtown Surat Thani; stirring us back in the peanut gallery awake. On boards a regular looking civilian, who of course points directly to me and gestures to come. No one else is fazed. I come.

Six minutes and several alleys of silently following him later, we’re staring into the locked glass doors of a very empty paint shop.

Civilian stares at his watch, “10 minutes.” 

And walks away. I guess his job is done.

And there I am, alone downtown, with but a vague clue of what should happen next.

I sit down to wait. And to hope…