Bruises in Paradise
The morning of February 17th, we packed our bags once again, a quiet sense of melancholy settling in as we said goodbye to the island of Koh Chang. There wasn’t much time to dwell on our feelings—we had a boat to catch, bound for our next destination: Koh Kood (also spelled Koh Kut), Thailand’s fourth-largest island and the one closest to the Cambodian border.
There are a couple of options when traveling between Koh Chang and Koh Kood, which are only about 16 miles apart. You can take a traditional wooden boat (a leisurely 1–2 hour journey), a larger and slower ferry, and also a bit cheaper, or a little bit more costly, small, speedy powerboat that gets you there in roughly 45 minutes. Time is money, so we chose the speedboat. Pictured are the big wooden boats-
After a baht bus ride to the pier, we were given two stickers, one for our shirts and one for our luggage. Our bags were loaded separately onto another speedboat that would meet us on the island. Once the luggage was sorted, passengers began boarding. By the time it was our turn, the boat was nearly full, and Luka and I ended up in the very front, fully exposed to the sun, which, as it turned out, was the least of our problems.
As soon as we pulled away from the dock, I realized the front of the boat wasn’t exactly the smoothest ride. Every time we hit a wave, our section would launch into the air and come crashing down…hard. I told myself it wouldn’t be too bad if the waves stayed small. Naturally, they didn’t. They grew larger, and with each jump and slam, we were tossed around like rag dolls. At one point, I got a faceful of seawater; at another, I found myself briefly airborne before slamming back into my seat.
There were metal bars to hang on to, makeshift safety rails at best—but to stay steady, you had to cling for dear life. The German woman seated across from me struggled just as much. She later showed me her arm, cut and bleeding from where the rough welding had scraped her skin.
I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a bit exhilarating, a chaotic, salty rollercoaster on open water. But it caught up with me the next day when I woke up with bruises lining my arm and the sorest back I’ve ever had.
Despite a lingering backache, the excitement of arriving on a Thai island outweighed any discomfort. A baht bus picked us up at the dock and transported us to our hotel, which would serve as our base for the next few days. After settling into our room, we changed into swimsuits and set off toward the nearest beach.
What we found was nothing short of breathtaking: fine white sand stretched along the shore, crystal-clear blue water shimmered under the afternoon sun, and a rustic bungalow bar stood nearby, serving drinks with a view. It was the kind of scene you might expect on a postcard, yet here it was, it was real, and ours to enjoy. We spent several hours swimming and unwinding from the chaos of our earlier boat ride.
Once the sun had done its job and we’d had our fill of salt and sand, we returned to the hotel to freshen up. Then it was time to secure our transportation for the rest of the stay: a motorbike, easily rented directly through the hotel, as is common throughout Thailand.
With the bike as our guide, we spent the next few hours riding through the island’s winding roads, taking in the scenery and getting oriented with the layout of the town. We eventually stopped at a small, open-air restaurant, where we sat down to a meal of the best Thai food, washed down, of course, with a couple of cold beers.