Koh Mak, Thailand
I rented a moped from a French lady with long grey hair next door, but before I rode off in search of breakfast I asked a fellow tourist oh so politely if he could take my picture. To show you that I am real, that this trip was not some fictitious account, and how could I possibly resist a biker chick shot? I told him not to come too close and pulled on my beanie and sunglasses. He asked if I was famous. I said only in my mind.
I found Christmas brunch at a small restaurant that serves European meals and good coffee. The only other lone soul was a man in his mid-thirties with a long beard and stringy hair. He didn’t register my presence and was obviously in no mood to complicate his solitude. He never looked up from his book and his food. I am attracted to that kind of intensity. I trundled along and got lost but the island is small, so no, I suppose I was never really lost. Koh Mak compared to other islands in Thailand is fairly quiet and chilled out. I rode to the other end and found a posh resort with a scenic pier half a kilometre long. I walked the length of it and tried not to stare at pasty white flesh lounging in small huts that made me think of mushrooms.
It was high noon and the water was an inviting clear blue. But I’m not one to ride around in a bikini top all day. I was wearing a hoodie and a beanie because it was windy and I had a bad cold. So no I didn’t have a swimsuit on me. But it was hot and I thought fuck it. Just once. And there was no one around. I stripped down to my undies and dove in. The water was cool and the waves soothing. I floated and frolicked until I noticed a group of Scandinavians in stylish bikinis appear with their goggles and snorkels. There were no steps up the pier. You had to haul yourself out of the water using a thick rope encrusted with shells; it was not my most graceful exit. The worst part: I was wearing my cotton undies not my sexy Calvin Kleins. But this is island life so I don’t think they gave a shit.
read Koh Mak: day two