Laughing Our Way to the Most Epic Sunset in Koh Lanta

I walk out of the palace, loaded up with heavy bags, ready for my trip with Rae to Koh Lanta. God, I hope there will be a TukTuk taxi available right now. I’ve had the worst luck with getting rides around Aonang. Turns out, everything works out for me perfectly. Just as I emerged from the palace driveway, a tuktuk driver beeps at me and I wave at her. She arrived serendipitously. I prayed for a TukTuk and there she was. I never see TukTuks on this road. Miracle!! Five minutes later, wind fresh in my hair, we’re laughing and taking selfies together. Her name is Cha. My name is Cha. Amazed. This is the first person I’ve met with my name. She drops me off at Sunn Coffee and as we wave goodbye she gives me her phone number so I can call her whenever I need a ride.

I have finally found my local, the spot where you can find me now for coffee each morning. This spot, Sunns Coffee, is home of the best coffee I’ve tasted in Thailand, brewed by a man from Bangkok who twenty years ago lived not 30min minutes from my childhood home. We may have passed each other on the Seattle streets two decades ago and now he pours me coffee in a hidden corner of Aonang, Thailand. This right here is coffee done right, coffee created with intention, a loud squeal of steamed milk, the beloved crema eager to kiss my lips and a deep smile and shallow bow as it is placed before me on a round wooden table. Coffee given from one human to another with ritual love. We may not know each other yet and the way he serves me coffee assured me we will know each other soon. We already understand something intimate and beautiful about one another. We begin our days with the same pretty passion and pause.

Lek is pouring coffee before the rest of the town wakes up. At 6:30am I’m walking into his shop. Rae and I are heading to Koh Lanta today and I’m picking up coffee for both of us. I’m going to surprise her. She thinks she won’t have coffee this morning because our van is leaving before the other coffee shops open. I order two flat whites (I know she likes this style of coffee) and carry them away in a to-go carrier. The van pulls up and she’s waving at me through the window. She loves me more as I hand her a surprise cup of caffeine. The guitar slide in between our legs. Our feet are on top of our bags. We’re stuffed in the van with a dozen strangers, all of us heading to a little island in Thailand for peace and quiet.

The van keeps stopping randomly. Is the driver getting a coffee? What’s he doing now? Rae and I are laughing the entire multi-hour journey. The attitude is extremely casual with no communication between driver and passengers. For all we know, the driver could be taking his kids to school on the way and stopping for a dentist appointment. We’re resigned to the journey, eating dried bananas in the squished seating. Normally, I’m quiet with headphones on in a public transport. This time, Rae and I are chatting and laughing and everyone can follow along with our banter if they choose to listen. It’s actually wonderful to have a friend to be obnoxiously loud with.

Someone on the bus laughed out loud when we told the driver we would like to be dropped off at “Pinky Bungalows". WTF is so funny about that? Does it sound girly or something? Haha we were still laughing as we checked in at the wonderfully cheap and cheerful Pink themed hotel. The Thai lady behind the desk was sassy and stylish. She closes her eyes, nods with her lips pursed saying, “You like Pinky Bungalows. You know Pinky is the best.”

We walk for five minutes through a dirt alleyway passing cats lounging in the shady doorsteps, our feet slipping into a muddy dirt road through a long grass field where grazing cows who are tied to the ground with a rope through their noses don’t bother looking up, beneath a grove of picture-perfect palm trees and we pop out onto the beach.

My feet sink into soft sand and colorful shells roll in the water. It’s always a homecoming when the soles of these feet kiss sand and the ocean runs up to greet them.

We walk until Rae feels drawn to a beach bar blasting reggae music. We order fresh coconuts. The music is a little intense for me. I usually pick quiet spots where I can listen to the ocean sounds, the birds, the breath in my nose. Other people rarely turn on the radio stations I listen to, the music that adds to my experience. Honestly, most of the time, I’m enduring other people’s music choices. I feel very particular. I sense the perfect song for each moment and I carry headphones with me always so I can pop into a magical bubble on demand. Sometimes, I challenge myself to relax into the vibe that another person has chosen. Sometimes I succeed and I blend in with the reggae, sometimes it just gets under my skin and eventually I walk away down the beach until I only hear waves and roosters. I’m so used to being on my own that little choices like where to sit on the beach have not been an issue until now. Suddenly, I’m traveling with a friend and we seem to gravitate to different soundscapes. How uncomfortable to compromise! What a learning curve to synchronize life movements to another human being, even one so aligned and similar to me as Rae! So I spend some moments with her and some off on my own. I’m learning the balance of solitude and companionship.

Oh, and of course on the way to the beach we stopped for snacks. The little corner grocery stores around here are so grungy and totally absent of Western policies. It’s so soul-delighting to browse the shelves for a chocolate bar and discover a cat relaxing with the cups of noodles.

Feet up, I lay there to welcome one of, if not the most epic sunsets I’ve ever seen in my life. The soft pastels puffed in the clouds until a dark blue dusk rolled in to cover the entire sky and ocean. The world was blue and the horizon was fire. I memorized this moment, this splendid vision, and felt full of inspiration to play with paint again.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde