Resort Digs

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> Ko Lanta, Thailand. What are we doing here? The answer would be: "Nothing"
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> We are in the far south of Ko Lanta, on Kantiang Bay. There is the bay and beach in front, the mountains behind, and the funky little hamlet to retreat to for wifi and real coffee.
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> I am slouched in a sling hammock, watching the world drift by on the dusty little one lane road. The pavement ends 100 meters from here. It is "Ron Mahk," very hot. My skin is lightly coated in a mixture of salt from the Andaman Sea and sweat.
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> The day's accomplishments so far have been booking passage to the next island, a mango shake to die for, a Padron cigar and a swim. I doubt that much more will be added to the list.
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> The resort we are staying at us run by a family of Thai Muslims. The call to prayer drifts across the beach at the appropriate times. Between the crazy Thai waiters and the Muslim woman in the kitchen and at the front desk, the place has a Rasta-Muslim vibe, if such a thing is possible.
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> It is not the seclusion of Ko Tarutao or the frantic hedonism of the full-moon parties. There is a sort of end of the road castaway feel to the whole place, with a few posh resorts, some funky bungalows and 350 baht backpacker rooms behind the little shops.
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> Time and calendar fade here, quickly
> Nothing to do quickly turns into a raison de être
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> Sent from the Paradise of Monkeys Device