After weeks of movement, ferries, hostels and hangovers, I was craving something slower. My mate and I decided to split for a few days before meeting again on Koh Tao. 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.
From Griff’s original travel journal, edited for this collection. Ferry journeys, hostel facilities and activities describe that trip; they are not current booking recommendations.
The overnight crossing
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 from our Phi Phi boat trip were on board too, with a bag of Thai snacks they had 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-conditioning unit. 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, boats drifted past, and for the first time in days, there was silence.
Before we had split, my mate and I had wandered one last night market near the ferry port, surrounded by sizzling woks and fans spinning overhead. The air was thick with the smell of garlic, fish sauce, and something sweet I could never name. It was the kind of ordinary evening that becomes easier to remember than a carefully planned excursion.
Too early to check in
I arrived at the hostel before sunrise, far too early to get a room. 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 head to the beach. Before long, I was swimming with complete strangers who already felt like friends. One of them I would later travel with to Koh Samui, the sort of connection that just happens along the way.
That night, despite running on no sleep, I joined the hostel quiz. 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.
Finding a slower rhythm
The next morning I switched hostels to meet my mate. It was a small place, with the kind of staff who remembered your name. Across the street, a bar was packed with Dutch football fans screaming at every goal. It felt like home in a weird, chaotic way.
Days began to melt together. We would wake up late, grab iced coffee from a café overlooking the beach, and spend the afternoons wandering between bars, dive shops and beach swings. One evening, we joined a volleyball match in a rooftop pool as the sun set and a DJ played tropical house.
We met up again with the friends from the ferry, and later with people we had met in Phuket. There were afternoons exploring, a stop at Shark Bay, and a beach bar with a wooden deck and reggae music. 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 the kind that silences a table. We ordered seconds without hesitation.
Evenings on the sand
As the day faded, we joined what felt like the entire island on the beach. Locals, travellers, dogs: everyone facing west. The sky went from gold to orange to deep purple, and the whole beach seemed to sigh.
Those were the moments that made the stay feel different. There was plenty going on, but it never all had to happen at once. Between the sunsets and the easy friendships, Koh Tao reminded me why I had wanted a little space in the trip in the first place.
Leaving was bittersweet. I could easily have stayed longer. But Koh Pha-Ngan was next, and it felt right to keep moving. Koh Tao remained the calm between storms: a place where I could slow down and notice where I was.
Leave space around the journey
An overnight journey can use up more energy than its place on an itinerary suggests. Before your own trip, check arrival arrangements directly with the accommodation and keep the first day light. An early shower or access to a common room should be confirmed, rather than assumed from someone else’s story.
Try a simpler approach to planning a first solo trip, then use the arrival worksheet in the First Solo-Trip Planning Pack. A flexible plan has room for rest as well as for new friends.
