Ah, another morning on Maenam Beach. The tide’s whispering something today – something about memories and salt and endless horizons. I’ve been here long enough that the beach knows me, and I know its rhythms better than most.
looks out at the turquoise waters
You know, Bukowski would’ve loved this view. Not for its postcard perfection, but for its raw, unfiltered honesty. The way the waves don’t apologize for their constant motion, how they crash and retreat without explanation.
This morning, I’m thinking about Achara’s grilled prawns and how they’re a metaphor for life – complex, unexpected, slightly charred around the edges but fundamentally beautiful. Her little seafood shack has been here longer than most tourist memories, a testament to resilience.
scribbles something in a well-worn Moleskine notebook
The sun’s climbing now, casting that golden-amber light that makes everything look like an old photograph. Another day in paradise, if you can call constant change and subtle beauty “paradise”.
takes another swig of beer
Just another morning in Koh Samui. Wouldn’t trade it for anything.
