No shoes, no underwear, minimum amount of clothes, no shampoo, salt and sand in the hair, coconut oil on the skin. That’s how I spent my holiday. By the end of the first week I got evicted from my bungalow (due a reservation by people more important than myself), so I ended up sleeping in a hammock on the beach. Dormitory was one option, but where is fun in that? After a second night, I scored myself a bungalow (not a trivial task on Haad Yuan around NYE). But at this point I got accustomed to the life of a beach bum, so I continued maintaining status quo. A hammock, a sarong, swimming pants, some reading, a camera, a torch and a knife, a toothbrush with toothpaste, a comb, water and some money. That’s all I needed to get by. The rest was tugged away in friends’ bungalow and I hardly touched during my bungalowless phase. Simple, yet effective.
– Where do you stay?
– On the beach. I am homeless.
– Oh noes!
It was a good story to tell. Reactions were interesting. It seemed that most people were stressed by my situation and tried to help me by giving advice, while I tried to explain them that I did not mind being homeless. After all I had to have my adventure during this journey. If not for climbing a mountain or exploring yet another cave, then at least spending a few nights on the beach.