BACKPACKING STORY

THE SUSTAINABLE TRAVEL JOURNALIST AND A BUCKET OF BEERS

Two backpackers arrived on Koh Phangan with a year of travel ahead of them. Eleven months later, I walked back into the same beach bar.

THAILAND · KOH PHANGAN · 5 MIN READ · ÁLVARO SERRANO

I met Antonio on Koh Phangan. We arrived on the same day and met at reception during check-in. Funny how life works. I didn’t speak much English, and Antonio was from Puerto Rico, so the receptionist, seeing two Spanish speakers, put us in the same bunk bed.

We had both been travelling for less than three weeks, and we both had plans for a year on the road. He wanted to visit thirty countries. I was a bit more modest: India, Nepal and Southeast Asia. Antonio had just finished a degree in journalism and wanted to start his career on this trip as a travel journalist focused on sustainability. He didn’t only want to travel. He wanted to write a book teaching travellers to do it responsibly: no plastic bottles, no elephant rides, family-run guesthouses instead of resorts, and a fair price for everything, beer included. That was his passion. He wanted to change the world.

I just wanted to enjoy my gap year before starting work as an accountant. My personal challenge was to trek to Everest Base Camp, something that would surely sound good in job interviews.

That night we went to dinner at one of the most popular bars on the beach. We drank, we danced, and we ended up playing pool with the waitresses. The music was thumping and there was sand in everyone’s shoes. Closing time came, but Antonio wanted to stay. He and one of the waitresses had crossed the line from friendly to something else, and they ended up leaving for her apartment.

I went back to the hostel on my own, zigzagging along the beach. The next morning Antonio still hadn’t come back, and I checked out. I felt sad because we hadn’t swapped emails or phone numbers.

ELEVEN MONTHS LATER

Eleven months later I went back to the island with some friends I’d met on my trek to Base Camp. My trip was coming to an end. I admit I had spent more money on beer than I’d planned, but I had achieved all my travel goals, and my experiences would impress any HR recruiter and, more importantly, my friends back in Segovia.

I had such good memories of my first night on the island that I took my friends to dinner at the same bar where I’d eaten with Antonio.

Imagine my surprise when I found him there, playing at the same pool table where we had said goodbye almost a year earlier.

We hugged and ordered a bucket of beers.

He hadn’t left Thailand.

After that night, he said, his plans had changed. He fell in love. Then he fell in love again. By his count, it had happened about ten times on different islands around Thailand.

He was happy and wouldn’t trade those romantic adventures for anything in the world. He had even started working as a waiter in one of the bars, and he had no intention of going back to Puerto Rico.

“And what happened to your book?” I asked.

He smiled. “That’s history.”

“You could write a book about dating in Thailand. You’ve got the experience, right?”

He smiled again. “I could. But I’d have to lie, because I don’t think my mother would be very proud of me.”

I stayed a couple more days on the island, but I never saw him again. Ten years have passed, and next week I’m going back to Koh Phangan.

And who knows? Maybe he’s still there, playing pool in the same bar.

If he is, I’m buying the first bucket.