The course is set for the coming days, and so I’ve decided to go to Vietnam and celebrate Christmas and New Year there. This thinking and weighing of options has certainly kept me busy, and somewhere deep inside there’s something wired into me that doesn’t want to make the wrong choice. What I learn from traveling is that there is no right or wrong; it’s all perception, expectation, and judgment—something I’ve programmed myself with, and therefore not reality. Every choice has an outcome, and in the worst case, you learn something from it.
The next step after Koh Phangan is Koh Tao. A 2.5-hour boat ride. When it comes to making choices, I generally do that based on feeling and on whatever comes my way. I’ve heard many people speak lyrically about Koh Tao, so let’s go check it out. In the morning I take the boat to Koh Tao at 8:30. The sea looks calm, but after half an hour of sailing the boat starts bouncing quite a bit with the waves. I break into a sweat, and the first pale-faced tourists make their way to the back deck to share their breakfast with the fish in the sea… I also feel a serious wave of nausea, but fortunately I manage to hold it in. Nevertheless, quite a shakey morning…
Feet on solid ground—I’m on Koh Tao. This island is very small, so the crowds are immediately noticeable. I walk to my hostel, at 11:00 I can’t check in yet. So, time for a walk and to shake out those sea legs. On foot, I head to a viewpoint. I notice about myself that when I arrive in a new place, I have an extreme urge to explore—a strong exploratory drive to know the roads, places, restaurants etc. Exploring new territory on foot is often pleasant; you have enough time to take it all in if you walk mindfully. I stroll barefoot and enjoy a wonderful view. A bit later, I chill for a while at a small beach below the viewpoint.
In my previous blog I already wrote that I tend to attract people whom I feel I can help. That energy is naturally inside me, and when I see someone searching and asking for a charger, I offer him what he needs. The person in question, slightly lost, looks like your average highly gifted gymnast: glasses, a travel shirt, and a can of Chang beer in his hand. Turns out he’s Belgian. I knew there had been a jungle party the day before, so my first thought was that he’d probably gone all out, stayed over at a girl’s place, and was still running on fumes from the night before. But no, that wasn’t the case. Very quickly I sense there’s more going on when I ask how long he’s been traveling. I can read it on his face; something more is at play when he answers somewhat cryptically. He tells me he’s more or less on the run. That’s when it gets interesting for me.
Since the age of 14 he became addicted, ended up living on the streets, and got mixed up in the wrong circles—all due to a bad family situation. You don’t get to choose how the cards are dealt in life, and he agrees, saying he feels like he was dealt a two of spades and a seven of diamonds. In contrast, I know my own situation, and if I had to judge it myself, I’m more in the jack, queen, king, ace category. He’s been “off” the path for a long time, and I’ve been very much “on” the path a yin and yang.
He tells me there’s currently a lawsuit against him involving around €700,000. I don’t go into further detail when he says he’s done with merely “surviving” and wants to leave this period behind him. When I ask what traveling gives him, he says he’s learned a lot about life, other cultures, and people. I ask him whether he’s running away or not, and I explain the difference between traveling as a goal and traveling as a means or resource. He recognizes himself in the idea of running away, and I tell him that if you run, you always take yourself with you. That resonates with him, and he grabs pen and paper as I explain my perspective on the difference between traveling as a goal and traveling as a means/resource.
I find it a beautiful encounter. He lives in extremes; he also tells me he once had a fling with the daughter of a diplomat. A remarkable guy, well-spoken, smart, and yet tragic that such a bad home situation led him into trouble. When I ask what he’ll do if the lawsuit turns out well for him, he says he knows what he needs to work on. I think to myself: I can’t change him, and I don’t want to. Someone only changes themselves when the pain is big enough and there is acceptance from within, only then something can begin. I simply try to show him that he himself is capable of turning the tide. His phone is charged by now; he thanks me sincerely and heads off. Encounters like these make your day.
The next day I go snorkeling, explore some small bays, jump off a rock, drink a few juices here and there, and end up at the famous duck restaurant. The best duck I’ve ever eaten—unbelievable. The day after, I repeat the same recipe and tour around on my scooter to yet another bay to explore the island. Three tiny baby sharks are the highlight of my snorkeling morning. In the afternoon, a pair of beautiful blue eyes catches my attention—Swedish blue eyes. I stare a bit absentmindedly, and she waves back somewhat awkwardly. No romantic opening or icebreaker. Still, we start talking and go together to another bay. We drink a few beers on a rock and simply enjoy. Life can be so simple sometimes…
Her name is Tilda—beautiful eyes, petite, pleasantly no-nonsense, a bit Swedish-stoic. She gives diving lessons on Koh Lipe, left her life in Stockholm behind, has a few days off, and is now on Koh Tao. I take her to the duck restaurant, and we end the evening with a traditional fire show. The next morning it rains, and in the evening there’s a jungle party that about 80% of the island attends. Not me—I meet up with Tilda. Just a little holiday fling; it’s part of it too, dear readers it’s also part of traveling as a single 29-year-old man. The whole island at the jungle party; only Tarzan and Jane lie in a treehouse under a blanket.
The day after that, I book my ferry to Bangkok and my flight to Hanoi. Back in my familiar hostel in Bangkok, I eat at my favorite spots and visit a big market where I have, without exaggeration, the best ice cream of my trip. Coconut ice cream with red beans, nuts, and some other sweet goodness—unreal. I enjoy it and see it as a stylish ending to Thailand, part one. I’ll be back for my Yoga Teacher Training, but first… Vietnam.
Touristy Thailand does not disappoint. Amazing, and completely understandable why so many tourists and backpackers come here. I’ve had more than a great time and am ready for a new adventure in Vietnam.
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