I awake to the waves lapping beneath my tent and the screams of fellow campers going for their daily dawn swim.
I unzip the tent fly, step onto the sand and into the soft morning sun and wade into the warm water. Here begins another day, in my world reduced to 670 hectares of jungle and sand, castaway in the Gulf of Thailand.
After four years of restless and sporadic travel through Asia and Europe, I felt like I’d learned the great lesson of travel: knowing when to stop.
On Cambodia’s Koh Ta Kiev island, I came for a day, I stayed for a week. Plans to continue exploring the country’s coast were abandoned, the scooters my girlfriend and I had rented from Phnom Penh sat unused in a shed on the mainland. The search was over, I’d found it.
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