26. The Best Days Are Never Planned
The further we travelled from the island, the more unbelievable the scenery became.
PLEASE NOTE: Before continuing, make sure you’ve read the earlier parts of my journey. Click here to view all chapters.
The Best Days Are Never Planned
The conversation carried on long after the sun had disappeared.
The beanbags were still scattered across the sand, the music was still playing softly in the background, and the three of us were in no rush to leave.
Those are often the best nights when travelling.
The ones you never planned.
The ones that simply happen.
As more people arrived and the evening atmosphere grew, we ended up chatting with a few other travellers who had recently returned from a snorkelling trip around the islands near Koh Samui.
Every single one of them seemed to say the same thing.
“You have to do it.”
One couple described it as the highlight of their trip.
Another traveller said it was one of the most beautiful places he’d ever seen.
That was enough for us.
Within half an hour, we’d booked ourselves onto the trip for the following morning.
Short notice.
No overthinking.
Just another one of those travel decisions that felt right.
The plan was simple.
An early start.
A boat.
Several islands.
Snorkelling stops throughout the day.
A barbecue onboard.
And hopefully a few more memories for the album.
As we walked back towards the hostel later that night, I remember thinking how quickly things had changed.
A week or so earlier I was sitting in Bangkok wondering what direction my journey was going to take.
Now I was walking through Koh Samui with two people I’d met completely by chance.
The unknown was no longer something I was trying to solve.
It was something I was beginning to embrace.
Back at the hostel, the conversations continued for another hour or so before we eventually called it a night.
The alarm was set early.
Tomorrow was going to be another adventure.
And I had a feeling it was going to be a good one.
The next morning started the same way many mornings had recently started.
A walk to 7-Eleven.
By now, the ham and cheese toastie had become something of a ritual.
Simple.
Cheap.
Reliable.
And somehow one of the most satisfying breakfasts on earth when you’re travelling.
Three toasties.
Three coffees.
Three slightly tired backpackers.
Ready for another day.
The boat departed shortly after.
The sea was calm.
The sky was clear.
And from the moment we left the shoreline behind, I had a feeling this was going to be special.
What I didn’t realise was just how special.
I’ve said a few times throughout this journey that I’ve had moments where I’ve stopped and thought, “Wow.”
This was one of those moments.
Except bigger.
The further we travelled from the island, the more unbelievable the scenery became.
Small islands appeared on the horizon.
Turquoise water stretched endlessly around us.
The sunlight reflected off the surface like glass.
It almost didn’t look real.
It looked edited.
Like something you’d see on a travel poster or YouTube thumbnail and assume had been enhanced.
But it wasn’t.
This was real.
And I was sitting right in the middle of it.
Our first snorkelling stop arrived.
Masks on.
Fins on.
And into the water we went.
Instantly I was blown away.
The visibility was incredible.
Fish everywhere.
Colours I’d never seen before.
Coral stretching beneath us.
An entire world existing just below the surface.
I floated there for what felt like ages.
Not really swimming.
Just taking it all in.
One of those rare moments where your brain struggles to process what it’s seeing.
A genuine pinch-me moment.
I remember surfacing and looking towards Andre and Lukas.
Both of them had exactly the same expression.
Complete disbelief.
And we still had more stops to come.
Each island seemed more beautiful than the last.
Each snorkelling spot offered something different.
Every time I thought we’d seen the best part of the day, something else appeared.
A hidden bay.
A stretch of untouched beach.
Another reef.
Another incredible view.
The barbecue lunch onboard somehow tasted better because of where we were.
Sat on the deck of a boat.
Surrounded by islands.
Sun shining.
Salt drying on our skin.
Good company.
No responsibilities.
No schedule.
Just freedom.
Real freedom.
The kind that can’t really be explained properly.
Only experienced.
Throughout the day I met a handful of other travellers.
People from all over the world.
All on their own journeys.
All carrying their own stories.
One conversation in particular stayed with me.
I got chatting to a young English guy, probably mid-twenties.
A few years younger than me.
He told me he’d originally come to Thailand on a short holiday.
Just a couple of weeks away from work.
That was the plan.
But somewhere along the way something changed.
He returned home briefly, handed in his notice and left behind a finance career in London that he’d worked incredibly hard to build.
Now he was living on Koh Samui as a fully qualified diving instructor.
I remember asking him if he regretted it.
His answer was immediate.
“Not for a second.”
The smile on his face told me everything.
It wasn’t about escaping.
It wasn’t about running away.
It was about building a life that felt more aligned with who he was.
That conversation stayed with me.
Because as we spoke, surrounded by crystal-clear water and endless islands, it reminded me that there isn’t one version of success.
There isn’t one path.
There isn’t one script.
Travel has a funny way of teaching you that.
The more people you meet, the more you realise everybody is figuring things out as they go.
Some just have the courage to admit it.
By the time we returned to Koh Samui that evening, the day already felt surreal.
But somehow it wasn’t finished.
Not even close.
What followed was probably the best night of my trip so far.
The details became a little blurry as the drinks flowed.
New friends.
New conversations.
Stories shared between complete strangers.
Laughter that seemed to last for hours.
One of those nights where nobody wanted to check the time.
Nobody wanted it to end.
Everything had clicked into place.
The hostel.
The people.
The journey.
The freedom.
The comfort I’d found outside my comfort zone.
As strange as that sounds.
Again, I wasn’t wondering what came next.
I wasn’t trying to control the journey.
I wasn’t trying to force clarity.
I was simply living it.
And as plans for our next stop, and whatever came after slowly started forming around hostel tables and half-finished drinks, I realised something.
Sometimes the best parts of travel aren’t the places.m
They’re the moments in between.
The conversations.
The connections.
The people who unexpectedly become part of your story.
And right then, it felt like this journey was only just getting bigger.
You can read more about my Journey by clicking here.
Click here to Inspire yourself to take your first step, and embrace the nomad life.
Click here for practical Travel tips and advice, shaped by experience.
Click here to explore our Community Page — a space for shared journeys.
Click here to step into the Gallery — where every piece of artwork tells a story.
