It took me 7 weeks to find it, & it was a bit of a tease, but I definitely found my paradise. I’ve been trying to come to Bottle Beach on the north side of Ko Pha Ngan for a good week but the “storm” that rolled into the island prevented it. The storm wasn’t a storm like we think about it bc it was still sunny & gorgeous, the winds just picked up quite a lot which prevented longboats from accessing a few beaches, one of which is Bottle Beach, only accessible by boat. So I slowly made my way around the island biding my time. Finally the waves subsided & I was given the go-ahead so I booked a bungalow.
It was a gorgeous 20 minute ride to Bottle Beach from Thong Nai Pan Yai beach along a rocky seaside cliff on one side & nothing but blue water on the other. Didn’t see another boat on the way there. Around a turn & this gorgeous white strip of sand emerges from the rocks in a little protected bay. It’s a pretty small beach lined w a whole lot of nothing but beach bungalows. I hopped out of the longboat in nearly waist-high water as the captain gently eased my backpack down to me & I thankfully avoided any dunking of the pack (& for the umpteenth time this trip, I was thankful to have a backpack vs an obnoxious roller suitcase).
Babu, the “hotel” manager, greeted me as I walked up the beach with a big hello & a blunt in his hand, that he put out & placed behind his ear. As if I had any doubts before, I was assured this was going to be an awfully chill place. We chatted, turns out he’s from Burma so I promised to pick his brain later about that, & he walked me to my bungalow with no check of a passport or any other formalities. It’s locked w a padlock & is as cute as can be. For $11 a night. I think I failed to mention that. And by cute, I mean cute in a very rustic way. The room is barely bigger than the bed w storage below for packs. The bathroom has a toilet, flushed by a pail of water from a bucket filled by a nearby spigot which also serves as the sink, & a shower (cold water naturally) that uses the same drain as the spigot. A serious mosquito net is provided which is fantastic given I’m definitely sleeping w the window open & fan blowing for airflow. There’s one white plastic chair for me on my porch & I acquiesced when Babu offered to hang a hammock for me. Haha. Love me some hammock time.
I hadn’t bothered to eat yet that day as I opted for a massage over lunch prior to the longboat, so I headed down to the restaurant for a salad to find the sweetest beach side restaurant w various shaded & sunny seating options. It’s combined w reception & includes a bar, a pool table, decent sound system & tunes, & a few staffers lingering & smoking. Up to this point, I hadn’t seen weed anywhere. I had smelled it a couple times while biking through cities but the guidebooks put the fear of God into you threatening 15+ years in prison for a minor mj offense if you can’t buy off the local authorities/Thai mafia & hinting there are undercover police lurking in tourists zones & working w the sellers to bust you. So that’s apparently not the case here. Haha
Babu sat down to chat w me while I ate a spicy seafood salad & enjoyed a couple Chang beers (beers here are USD $2 so no place is perfect but they have to make money somehow) & that’s when it really got good. We talked about life histories & what do you know? Babu tried to be a monk TWICE in Burma & couldn’t cut it so bailed. Is this for fucking real!?!?!?!!! He made it 7 days when he was 27 & 9 days when he was 29. Apparently there’s a lot of fasting involved. You are awakened at 5:45am w a gong, put on your robes & walk the city barefoot asking for alms (yep, I saw this in Laos), then you return to shower & prepare food, eat at 7am but no talking allowed, clean the kitchen for an hour, walk the city again, eat at 11am, clean & then no eating allowed again after noon. Every day. Buddhism doesn’t frown upon smoking as monks are allowed to smoke (cigarettes not ganja), so those Cambodian monks we saw smoking on holiday in Halong Bay were not in violation of their code, Amy. All Babu could do was smoke cigs until he again got to eat at 7am. Apparently he couldn’t cut it (twice) bc he was so goddam hungry & I told him perhaps he wasn’t meant to be a monk after all bc he now works in paradise, eats whenever he wants to & seems to enjoy the marijuana. He laughed & agreed & then proceeded to make me the sweetest little rose pinky ring made from 2 plastic straws folded & fused together w his lighter.
I’m in love w this place & it’s only been 3 hours.

Hammock time

https://youtu.be/2-7ElgLDoTQ