GruffyddA Journal Entry
After weeks of movement, ferries, hostels, hangovers, I was craving something slower. Koh Tao promised exactly that: small, relaxed, a diver’s paradise. So my mate and I decided to split for a few days. I wanted to get a dive in before we headed to the next island; he opted for a night of rest by the ferry port.
Getting There
I boarded the overnight ferry alone. It wasn’t glamorous, rows of thin mattresses lined up like a giant sleepover. Everyone shuffled around, half-whispering, half-laughing at how surreal it felt. As I sat down, I heard my name. A group of girls from our Phi Phi boat trip were on board too, and they came prepared, a whole bag of Thai snacks they’d promised to try one by one.
We spent hours sampling everything from spicy prawn crackers to something that tasted like candied seaweed. Travelling alone suddenly didn’t feel so lonely. Eventually I went to my assigned bed, right beside the air-con unit that roared like a jet engine. It was freezing, impossibly loud, and I didn’t sleep a minute. But watching the sunrise over the Gulf of Thailand made it worth it. The sea glowed soft orange, longtail boats drifted past, and for the first time in days, there was silence.
Meanwhile, my mate took the quick route, a two-hour speedboat the next morning. Before we split, we’d wandered one last night market near the ferry port, surrounded by sizzling woks, fans spinning lazily overhead, and vendors smiling as they tried to guess what we’d order. The air was thick with the smell of garlic, fish sauce, and something sweet I could never name.
Arriving & Settling In
Koh Tao is tiny, the sort of place where you can walk from one side to the other in under an hour, but it buzzes with backpacker life. I’d booked Revolution Koh Tao, a social hostel known for its events. I arrived before sunrise, far too early to check in. The staff took pity on me, handed me a towel, and pointed to a shower. After that, I crashed in the common area, half-asleep on a beanbag while geckos clicked above me.
As the sun climbed, more bleary-eyed travellers appeared, people from my ferry and a few new faces. Too early to get rooms, we decided to hit the beach. Within an hour, I was swimming in glass-clear water with complete strangers who already felt like friends. One of them I’d later travel with to Koh Samui, the sort of connection that just happens out here.
That night, despite running on no sleep, I joined the hostel quiz and somehow our team won a bottle of spirits. We toasted under fairy lights, and I remember thinking how strange it was that a place could feel so familiar after just a few hours.
Reuniting & Exploring
The next morning I switched to Tiger House Hostel, where my mate was checking in. It was a small, clean spot run by the kind of staff who remember your name after one conversation. Free breakfast, good showers, and a bar across the street packed with Dutch football fans screaming at every goal, it felt like home in a weird, chaotic way.
Days on Koh Tao melt together. We’d wake up late, grab iced coffee from a café overlooking the beach, and spend the afternoons wandering barefoot between bars, dive shops, and beach swings. Everything moves slower here, even the Wi-Fi feels relaxed.
One evening, we joined a volleyball match in a rooftop pool as the sun set and a DJ played tropical house. It felt like something from a travel video, except we were the ones in it.
That night we reunited with the girls from the ferry for the Koh Tao Pub Crawl, five bars, one beach, a lot of neon paint. It ended at what was called a “pool party,” though no one actually went in the pool until we did. The minute we jumped, everyone followed, within seconds it turned into a full-blown water rave.
The next day our old Aussie mates from Phuket turned up on scooters, waving helmets and grinning. We hopped on the back and spent the day exploring, quiet roads, palm trees, hidden coves. We stopped at Shark Bay to snorkel (no sharks spotted, thankfully), then found a beach bar that looked like it belonged on a postcard. Wooden deck, reggae music, cold Changs. We talked about life, travel, and how strange it would be to go back to “normal.”
Somewhere along the way we found a local gym, our first workout in weeks, before heading to a small restaurant known for its duck. The food was unreal, the kind that silences a table. We ordered seconds without hesitation.
Evenings on the Beach
As the day faded, we joined what felt like the entire island on the sand. Locals, travellers, dogs, everyone facing west. Someone was kite-surfing; kids were jumping from boats into the shallows. The sky went from gold to orange to deep purple, and the whole beach seemed to sigh. Thailand has a way of giving you those quiet, cinematic moments, no filters, no fuss, just you and the world being still.
Final Thoughts
We stayed four nights (five for me), and it never felt enough. Koh Tao has a heartbeat that’s slower, softer, a place where people come for a few days and end up staying weeks. Between the diving, the sunsets, and the easy friendships, it reminded me why people fall in love with Thailand in the first place.
Leaving was bittersweet. I could’ve easily stayed to dive more, maybe even done a certification. But Koh Pha-Ngan and the Full Moon Party were calling, and it felt right to chase that next wave of chaos.
Koh Tao will always be the calm between storms, a little island that makes you slow down, breathe, and realise how lucky you are to be exactly where you are.
