How To Reach Ko tao

To paraphrase the physiatrist Carl Jung, one must go through hell to reach heaven. An accurate analogy of my trip to Ko Tao, an island in the Gulf of Thailand that lies directly south of Bangkok, which was the next stop on my journey.

On the tail end of an eight-hour bus ride from the city, four-foot waves crashed into the coast. Just looking at them made my stomach feel queasy. I descended from the motorway to the 300-meter pier as rain beat down upon my belongings.

The catamaran’s odyssey to the island was traumatic; a worthy contender for the “single worst experience of my life” award. For three hours I endured mental and physical exhaustion from the swells, a tempest of tears and bile passing through me and the other cramped voyagers. In shared horror, we sought comfort from one another while convulsing in rigid seats.

The philosophical science fiction nerd living within my cranium could only muster a meager mantra: “fear is the mind killer”. Although still sobbing, heart racing, body ready to lunge itself from the vessel at any moment, I managed to make it through to the end of the journey. Commiserating on departure, I met a woman from Nashville who remarked that she may need intensive therapy from our trip. Me too Nashville, me too. And as the rain subsided, a taxi drove me to the inland’s warm embrace.

It was now dinnertime and the aroma of authentic Thai cuisine drifted into my hostel. While I ordered food at a nearby eatery, youthful strangers filled the tidy three table establishment. With nowhere to sit, I pulled up a chair. Our multinational group became fast friends, and we spent four days exploring paradise.

Ko Tao is home to hundreds of beautiful women on holiday, pristine white beaches, a lively nightlife, and easy access to bars and restaurants. My newfound companions and I enjoyed eating duck soup, watching the local cabaret show, learning Muy Thai boxing, and lounging around aquamarine shores.

The midnight Jungle Party topped off the week. Remember those beautiful women? They all attended, dancing on platformed treetops bathed with electronic music until sunrise. The party was fun. I spent the party with “The Pink Lady” from Germany. Her bubblegum hair and matching attire had drawn my artsy eye earlier that week.

Our mutual enjoyment of sarcastic humor made for good company. Our compatriots included the witty Axel from Paris, a foulmouthed Irishman named Carl, a charming couple from London, and a host of transitory hostel mates with unique travel stories.

Lying in the bottom bunk on my last night in Ko Tao, I felt comfortable in the rhythm of the island. Although I wished to stay longer, I bid farewell to new friends and boarded the catamaran to two quite different islands: Koh Phan-gan and Koh Samui.