Pause and Wander

Dates: February 4th-6th, 2026

Places: Koh Lanta-> Ao Luek, Thailand

The 2.5-hour taxi ride from Koh Lanta brought us deep into the jungle near Ao Luek. We’d booked what the online description called a rustic retreat with bamboo bungalows, live music, and communal vibes. It sounded perfect—a peaceful escape surrounded by nature.

Then we pulled up to the property.

The setting was undeniably beautiful. Palm groves. Dramatic karst mountains jutting up with sheer limestone sides. A small pond reflecting string lights. And yes, bamboo bungalows. However, right in the center of the complex sat a bar. Next to the bar: a stage for live music performances. Not exactly a place for the impromptu drum circles we’d imagined.  Our immediate thought: “Oh great, what did we get ourselves into?”

This had all the markings of a place that could turn into a not-so-kid-friendly party hostel. We could already imagine it—music blasting until 3 am, drunk backpackers stumbling around, the girls unable to sleep, us regretting every decision that led us here.

Our upgraded bungalow had its own bathroom tacked onto the back, which was a small mercy—at least we wouldn’t have to navigate communal showers. The girls were very appreciative of this fact.

We all ordered some version of a mango smoothie and Max wandered away to fly his drone, attempting to capture the aerial view of the grounds, while also trying to calm his nerves. When he returned, Shaina had a passion fruit margarita waiting for him, and she’d already made friends with a German family sitting nearby.

Bastian and Imute were traveling with their three kids: Peter, Gretta, and Florina. They were on a four-week holiday escaping one of the harshest winters eastern Germany had ever experienced. Bastian is a primary care physician, Imute is a nutritionist, and since Shaina works in medicine, the conversation quickly turned to our respective healthcare systems and the cost of care.

These are the kinds of conversations that feel both important and utterly futile. Super complicated stuff that’s not going to be solved over beers in a Thai jungle. But it was a good conversation anyway, and this family seemed like genuinely good people.

While the adults engaged in “boring grownup blah blah time,” the kids had a blast completely ignoring us. Despite no common spoken language, they used the universal language of play to engage in some rowdy rounds of hide and seek, tag, and low-level run-around mayhem. A few bumps and scrapes were the price paid, but judging from all the laughs and smiles, everyone thought it was worth the cost.

Around 9:00 pm, the live music started.

We braced ourselves. But what came through the speakers was… chill acoustic guitar. Mellow vocals. The kind of music you’d hear at a coffee shop on a Sunday afternoon, not a raging party hostel. Okay then.

Before we knew it, it was 10:30 pm. We made the walk around the pond, admiring the string lights reflected in the water, then headed to our bungalow for quick showers and bed. There was no AC in these rustic accommodations, and the music was still playing, but still acoustic, still chill. Sleep came surprisingly quickly. The temperature with the fan blowing through the mosquito net kept us comfortable. Although the music continued late into the night, the soft acoustic sets that drifted through the jungle felt nice. Unfortunately, this pleasant start to the evening was not to last.

The Night of a Thousand Scurries

The walls of the bamboo bungalows were super thin with no insulation whatsoever. Every cricket chirp and frog croak came right on in. If the sounds had been limited to these background natural noises it would have been fine. Charming, even. However, there were also people talking until 4:00 in the morning. Doors squeaking painfully as people entered and exited their bungalows. And worst of all: the scurrying. We’re not sure what was scurrying. Probably a rat. Maybe three rats. Sometimes it sounded like they were outside. Sometimes like they were scampering across the roof. But we’d swear that a few times they were right in the bedroom.

Not cool. Not cool at all.

The irony wasn’t lost on us. Max had been so worried about loud party music keeping everyone awake. Instead, it was jungle rats on the roof and paper-thin construction.

We made a mental note: tomorrow night, earplugs.

Islands, Caves, and Dance Party Boats

Despite not sleeping great, we got up at 7:45 and were ready for our preordered breakfast at 8:00: scrambled eggs, fried rice, fruit, and mango sticky rice. We talked again with the German family—and another round of “What the heck America?! No, you can’t have Greenland!”  Soon, they convinced us to put our heads in the proverbial sand and go on the guided island-hopping boat trip through Phang Nga Bay.

The boat day turned out to be so much more than we expected. At first we thought it would just be lazing about on one beach after another. And there was plenty of beach time. But we also got to do some real adventuring.

We hiked to another “Big Tree” of Thailand—not as big as the one we’d seen on Koh Lanta, but impressive nonetheless. Then we climbed through a tiny cave that was only accessible because the tide was at its lowest point. This gave us access to an ancient karst island sinkhole that had nearly totally collapsed. What remained was a ring of rock surrounding an ecosystem of mud flats, mangroves, cactus-covered low rocks, and tropical foliage on the upper reaches. It was such a cool place. And the island-hopping only continued and improved along the way—our next stop another sinkhole phenomenon but this one held a hidden mangrove forest. Our kids, along with another pair of kids on the tour, gleefully took off and spent the better part of an hour exploring the whole interior of this random uninhabited island.   These were the kinds of spots you’d never find without a knowledgeable guide. 

We finished the day on a seashell-covered sandy beach facing west. We started a bonfire, hunted for puka shells, and watched the sun slowly set behind jagged karst islands far off in the distance. A beautiful end to the day.

Well, we thought that would be the end. But we’d forgotten we needed to boat back to the mainland in the dark. This would have been a little nerve-wracking at the best of times. But the captain insisted on turning on a crazy set of LED dance party lights during the trip back. We understood—it’s probably a good idea to be visible on open water at night. But all of these lights were in the boat’s seating area, killing our collective night vision so we couldn’t see the horizon. With the somewhat windy seas, the rocking became a bit nauseating. Not horrible, but definitely more so than Max and Finlee, who are more prone to motion sickness, had been hoping for. 

We had dinner waiting for us when we got back to the hotel, but the combination of mild seasickness, lingering heat, and the fact that none of the food was warm anymore meant that Max and Shaina barely ate a thing. Their loss was the girls’ gain. Their appetites were completely undiminished, and they scarfed down all the fried chicken, yellow curry, and fresh fruit—plus everything we grownups didn’t want.

By the time dinner was finished, the long day in the sun had caught up with everyone. We crashed into bed straightaway. The acoustic music drifted through the walls again, but by now it felt almost comforting—a constant in a place full of surprises.

The Great Scooter Delay

The next morning we had breakfast at 8:00 and were told scooters would be ready and waiting first thing. We asked the front desk about them. “Oh, they haven’t been returned yet. They should be back by 9:00.” Okay. We could get a few things done. But the temperature was really starting to climb as the sun crested over the surrounding hills.

Nine o’clock came and went. Still no scooters.

By 10:00 we started complaining more intently. They assured us the scooters were on their way. “Five minutes! Promise!”

The scooter guy arrived five minutes later. In a car. With no scooters. Apparently we needed to drive with him to pick up the scooters at an undisclosed location “five minutes away.” Ugh.

We said fine, but we were losing patience. Ten minutes of driving later, we arrived at the scooters. They were fine, but the helmet selection was total rubbish. But the sunk cost fallacy had us hooked, and we were not going to quit on our scooter plans. We finally got back to the hotel, grabbed the girls, and were on the road by 11:00.

It was hot. But we told ourselves it didn’t matter. We’re on an adventure! You can’t have everything go smoothly on an adventure—otherwise that would just be too easy.

Our route took us north to Wat Mahathat Wachiramongkol, one of southern Thailand’s most impressive temples. While it would have been nice to arrive earlier in the day, the impressiveness of the place was undiminished.

The main pagoda, a massive golden tower visible from kilometers away, was the biggest and most intricately decorated building that we had ever seen. The grounds were covered with decorative stone, metal, and glass work that was impressive in its own right, but made even more so by the sheer scale of it all. After exploring thoroughly, we stopped at the nearby cafe for coffee, bubble water, and surprisingly tasty brownies. Then we drove back to Ao Luek for lunch on the patio at Chong-Khao Noodles House, overlooking a lush lotus pond in full bloom. The Google reviews did not exaggerate. Pad Thai with pork crackling, spicy braised pork and noodles soup, and slow-roasted pork. Everything was so good. 

After lunch we needed somewhere to do homework and journaling. We stopped at a local spot called Mangkon Thon, hidden down a residential street, and we stepped inside to discover the place was sweltering. We almost walked right back out, but the ladies running the restaurant were quick to crank up the AC, brought us a complimentary plate of watermelon and papaya, and made our go-to smoothie blend of passion fruit and mango.

We spent two and a half hours there. When it was time for dinner, we decided to stay. Their menu had no English on it whatsoever, but we somehow managed to order grilled chicken with the most amazing citrus glaze, spicy papaya salad, and pork pad see ew.

Everything was delicious. The staff were so friendly and helpful. We left a five-star Google review on the spot. 

The ride back to the hotel was just as it was starting to get dark and the road was busier than we would have liked. But we arrived safe and sound despite the diminishing light and fast driving trucks hauling palm oil trimmings.

What Made It Worth It

Here’s the thing about Ao Luek: almost nothing went according to plan, but almost nothing went wrong in the ways we expected.

Max worried about party music keeping us up. Instead, we got mellow acoustic sets and rats in the walls. The peaceful jungle bungalow came with people talking until 4 am and doors that squeaked loud enough to wake the dead. The scooters that were supposed to be ready “first thing” showed up three hours late with terrible helmets. The perfect sunset boat ride ended with disco lights and mild nausea. 

And yet… 

The boat day was incredible. The hidden cave, collapsed sinkhole-turned-mud pit, and mangrove forest were all places we’d never have found on our own. The temple was genuinely stunning. We stumbled into a restaurant with no English menu and had one of the best meals of the trip. The girls played hide and seek with German kids despite a near-total language barrier and had an absolute blast. 

Sometimes the best travel experiences are the ones that go slightly wrong in ways that force you to adapt, laugh at yourself, and appreciate the moments that work out despite—or maybe because of—the chaos. Sometimes you waste energy worrying about problems that never materialize while completely missing the actual challenges heading your way. We spent the first evening worried about loud music ruining our nights, but by the third night, the acoustic guitar in the background had become soothing. The scurrying of the night time critters turned out to only been on the outside of the bungalows and as long as we wore earplugs it wasn’t an issue.

We’re not sure we’d recommend Ao Luek to everyone. But we’re glad we went. Rats and all.

Tomorrow: Phuket. Shaina found us a spot that’s supposedly the least Phuket-y part of Phuket, confirmed by locals. We’re cautiously optimistic. But we’re also not going to waste time worrying about what might go wrong. We’ve learned that lesson.

Well… perhaps we’re learning it. Probably. Maybe?

We’ll still pack earplugs just in case.