Koh Phangan was beckoning us, and after 4 days of Tao it was the least we could do to listen. Sal and I checked out of our backpacker’s building at 10am but with nothing else to do until our ferry departed at 3, we scoped out the best beachfront restaurant we could and parked ourselves for a smoothie and a nap. What we thought would be a nice way to relax ourselves through a slight hangover turned more into an afternoon of listening to a guy with a power sander coating us in sawdust that was blowing in our direction, but the food was cheap and the WiFi aplenty, so we stuck it out as long as humanly possible before catching our pickup to the boat.
Tal met us at the docks and boarded the ferry to our bigger island to the south. I had envisioned it to be much like my ferry ride to the islands only several days prior, that picturesque dawn journey where my fellow travelers and I had sprawled out on the deck and soaked in the sun. I was clearly disappointed this go-around when we boarded a packed large boat and were left with rooftop seating in the rain. My insides were laughing, but my face was not. At least if nothing I got one use out of that raincoat-in-a-pouch I brought.
We arrived at a cozy little hostel named Our House in the Haad Rin area of Koh Phangan– just a stone’s throw from the beach and a rightful skip to a bunch of strangely Israeli restaurants. Our bunkmates were a group of Brits we had just seen at our same hostel in Koh Tao (“Yeah, we met in the bathroom and you told me how you were so hungover and about to go snorkeling while you brushed your teeth”) and although we all planned to go out for a drink together after dinner, nobody even made it – a group of 10 in our room, all having a snooze before 11. All the beach parties taking place on the island and nobody even said a word. Koh Phangan can’t even handle us right now.