To celebrate my 30th birthday, I originally planned to fly to Rome, but at the last minute, I realized I was not looking for another European vacation, but rather real room to breathe. Nearly three weeks in Thailand taught me that it is not merely a destination, but a chance to momentarily set aside everything that follows you from home.
Tropical rain was falling on Bangkok when I found myself on a motorcycle, en route to a high-end restaurant, trying to save what was left of my makeup and mascara. Within minutes, the makeup surrendered, my hair followed suit, and the whole look pretty much went into the trash. Surprisingly, right there, soaked, messy, and begging the motorcycle driver to drive as carefully as possible, I realized I was truly enjoying myself. In Thailand, it turns out, even the ride to dinner can become a story you remember long after you forget what you ordered to eat.
Instead of a race to the next clothing store, room to breathe
As noted earlier, I was initially supposed to fly to Rome for my birthday. It sounded right, festive, and above all familiar and easy: A relatively short flight, a central hotel, shopping, a picture by a fountain, a small wish, and a return to routine. But as the date approached, I realized I did not want another quick trip to Europe. The last time I flew to a destination beyond the borders of that continent was nearly five years earlier, to Africa, specifically Rwanda. Even then, I boarded the plane with an excess cargo of anxieties and medications just in case, and this time, too, my anxiety was still holding me back. Anxiety, as is well known, is unimpressed by cheap coconuts and white beaches. It wants to know who is picking you up from the airport, which hotel you are going to, what happens if it rains, whom to call if something goes wrong, and yes, whether there is a pharmacy within a reasonable distance.
I contacted Siam Tours, which planned the trip in detail, answered every question - including those I sent late at night - and remained available throughout the journey. For a traveler like me, knowing there is someone on the other end is sometimes the difference between dreaming about a real trip and actually setting off on one.
Everyone warned me that I was flying to Thailand "off-season." However, that concept is far less absolute than commonly thought. I will not tell tall tales: June and July are indeed in the rainy season across vast parts of the country, but Thailand's climate varies from region to region. In practice, it rained on us only a handful of times, not all day, not every day, and certainly not in a way that ruined the trip. It was hot, tropical, less crowded with tourists, and no less importantly, the prices were also more affordable.
A well-crafted hotel, an island that speaks quietly, and much more than a transit station
We began the trip in Koh Samui, one of the best-known and most popular destinations among Israelis in Thailand, where we stayed at an indulgent hotel and enjoyed the precise combination of luxury, quiet, and meticulous service. Yet we did not stay in a state of relaxation for too long: We wandered through food markets, surprisingly rode Jet Skis, and went out in jeeps to a therapeutic elephant sanctuary. At one point, I found myself on the roof of an off-road jeep, holding on, screaming, and laughing, because if you are going to scream in fear, at least let it be against the backdrop of a breathtaking landscape.
From there we continued to Koh Phangan, an island known for its parties, but no less for its endless shanti atmosphere and tranquility. During our stay there, we met Hani, one of the hotel employees, and at a certain point she felt like much more than just another person met along the way. I do not know if it was the tranquility of Koh Phangan, the spectacular scenery, or simply the way the Thai people make you feel at home, but Hani opened up her story to us, and in that sense she was all of Thailand: Kind, pleasant, and calming.
After the islands, we arrived in Bangkok for two days, which for me was supposed to be merely a transit station. But I quickly discovered a city with a complex and intriguing identity: Skyscrapers alongside old alleys, massive malls opposite food stalls, and high-end restaurants alongside rugged streets. In Talat Noi, which I immediately crowned as the "Florentin of Bangkok," we found old buildings, garages alongside art, local cafes, and even hipsters who looked as if they had come straight from Frenkel Street in Tel Aviv.
Pattaya: A city that makes no apologies
From there we continued to Pattaya, a city that comes with a reputation even before you arrive. It features nightlife, parties, illuminated streets, music, and a feeling that the night never truly ends. Located about 150 kilometers from Bangkok, it is considered one of the prominent resort and entertainment destinations in the area.
Pattaya does not try to be delicate. It is noisy, crowded, colorful, and at times over the top, but there is something liberating about a place that makes no apologies for what it is. After days of tranquility on the islands, the transition to the lights and the bustle was sharp, but it also demonstrated what makes Thailand Thailand: Every drive of a few hours can take you to an entirely different world.
Koh Larn: The highlight
Still, the highlight of the area for me was neither a party nor a street packed with lights, but Koh Larn, a tiny island off the coast of Pattaya, measuring less than five kilometers long and about two kilometers wide. We reached it by speedboat, and after about fifteen minutes of sailing, the noise of Pattaya was left behind. When we arrived on the island, we took a buggy with two local women, who drove us between the beaches, roads, and spectacular viewpoints that Koh Larn has to offer, and there are many. We did not need to open a map, ask Google, or deliberate over what to do; we simply let them guide us to the places they know and love.
This was precisely the island I imagined when I thought of Thailand: Small, authentic, calm, and not trying hard to impress, yet somehow managing to do so at every stop. My recommendation is not to settle for merely lounging on the beach with a coconut in hand, but to take advantage of what the island has to offer: Jet Skis, diving, and other water sports. As for food, it is worth venturing a bit away from the beachfront restaurants, heading inward to the local streets, and choosing places where the island's residents eat. It is precisely there that you can truly feel Koh Larn, without tourist props.
After the indulgent hotels, the vibrant markets, the parties, and the big cities, it was precisely there that I felt a small dream came true. Make no mistake, nothing dramatic happened; I simply stood facing a sea of a shade that almost did not look real, surrounded by complete silence, and for a few moments, I thought of nothing else. For someone whose thoughts do not usually go on vacation alongside her, this was the true highlight of the trip.
The quiet I waited for, though I did not know how much I would miss it again
People tend to talk about Thailand through its beaches, hotels, food, and prices. All of those are important, but they do not explain the feeling that remains after you return. I traveled to celebrate my 30th birthday, but I returned with something larger than another celebration. I realized that a true vacation is not measured only by hotels or how many extra kilograms come back home in the suitcase. It begins the moment we manage to get far enough away from our lives to miss them, but also to look at them from the outside. I was supposed to be in Rome; instead, I chose Thailand, and it was for the best. Sometimes you need to leave the path you planned in order to arrive at precisely the place you were meant to be.
