Believe it or not, last night with no AC was our best sleep in Thailand. The mixture of the open windows, semi-cool jungle breeze, and humming fan made for great background sounds. Maybe this whole closed-window, AC thing was overrated after all? We took our time getting up, and prepared ourselves for our final destination of the week, the porch. It was our last day in paradise, and we didn’t want to let it go by fast.
We read the news over coffee and gobbled up our toasties and omelets. This morning routine was great for us because we got to wake up slowly. We didn’t have to scarf down food and coffee while rushing to get ready for a day we didn’t want to live. Despite being in different cities, countries, and cultures for the last four months, we’d had the same routine every morning.
Our bodies ached from repeated sunburns, bugbites, and moped crashes. Our clothes smelled moldy, and our hair and my beard were a step past unkempt. We were just tired, and decided today we would enjoy the view. The breeze was the tipping point; a cold gust collided with our leathery, sun-beaten skin every few seconds and cooled us.
We left the comfort of our porch only to get one last massage in town. When we finished, Alan came down to pick us up. We held on to the back of the handlebar and casually ducked all the trees and branches and watched for coconuts on the way up, only holding on with one hand. In one week, we’d become expert truck-standing riders.
As we headed up through the coconut grove for the last time, I turned to see Ash crying. It broke my heart. I felt the same way, but this was her journey. This was her trip. My journey and dream were to write this book and document this experience; hers was to grow from it in a way I didn’t need to. I put my arm around her and held on to the rail on the other side and she fell into my weight. This was our last trip up the hill to our villa.
We watched the sunset over the gulf, hoping it would slow down and just stay put for once. I broke the silence between us as we looked out over the sea: “Hey, we still have a night in Bangkok.” But we both knew this was it. This was the last water we would see after spending months at sea. We had soaked up enough salt and sun this summer for a lifetime, but we still didn’t want to say good-bye. I fell asleep to the sound of Ash whimpering in my arms next to me. The AC was fixed, but we left it off.