How many years have I been going on summer vacations?
Am I in Thailand again right now?
What was it like to arrive in this country once more?
For some reason, I enjoy seeking out these questions—and then the answers, too.
28 Years of Vacation
I no longer recall who I was talking to about the fact that we live in places where people typically come for a two-week vacation. Following this realization, I did a little calculation.
My 14 months spent in Asia mean that I have already “used up” 28 years’ worth of vacations. In advance. In other words, if I were to return to Hungary now, based on the principle of equivalence, I would never be able to go on vacation again for the rest of my life.
Of course, this calculated picture requires some nuance. For one thing, I am a digital nomad; I work while I travel. For another, I strive never to think of myself as a tourist. Furthermore, I have very often been to places where an “average” vacationer certainly wouldn’t go—or, at the very least, not in the way that I went there.
In Phuket, however, I am on vacation.
It’s a strange feeling. My circumstances are such that I cannot view the days spent here as anything other than a proper vacation. The people I’m with are here on vacation, too. So, for the time being, I am a tourist—someone on vacation.
Airport Adventures
I started smiling the moment I arrived at the Bangkok airport.
Everything—the signs, the products in the shops, the way people behave—feels familiar. This is my fourth time at this airport. And it’s not just the international terminal anymore; I’ve been through the domestic side, too. It’s starting to feel like coming home.
The journey began in Cambodia. There wasn’t much drama involved in the travel itself, but the few moments that did occur were memorable.
When I checked in my large backpack, the scanner flagged something unusual inside. I was asked to open the bag in a designated area. I don’t know about others, but having to step aside like that always gives me a bit of a thrill—especially when it’s such a mystery: there’s something in my bag.
In this case, the “something” turned out to be a lighter—or so another passenger and I suspected. As it happened, that was the issue for them. For me, things were a bit more complicated. I unpacked all my gear onto the table. They ran the bag through the scanner several times, but it kept triggering an alert. In the end, I had to move my power bank and my rechargeable headlamp into my carry-on bag. As for the lighter—which they found at the very bottom of my pack—they threw it away.
One of the young customs officers took an interest in my Rubik’s Cube—which I had bought on Koh Samui last year. As for the item I had brought from Hungary, I ended up giving it to someone in Bali. The guy asked if he could take it out of its cardboard box. I told him he could—and that he could keep it, too. I hadn’t touched it for months; it was of no use to me. He was so happy about it—he even asked twice if I was serious about giving it to him. For my part, I was just glad that making such a simple decision required so little thought.
Aside from the backpack mishap, the two flights went smoothly. In Bangkok, I was the first to step off the bus that shuttled us from the plane to the terminal. That’s how I immediately spotted a large sign listing seven or eight names—the first one being mine.
When I checked in with the woman holding the sign, she asked me to step aside into a separate area. Great—that’s the second time today I’ve ended up in the hands of security. In response to my question, they muttered something about needing to do something with our luggage. Other people began to arrive in the area, too. With information so scarce, speculation quickly started as to why we were there. One young woman even floated a full-blown conspiracy theory: apparently, a friend had told her that Thai people don’t like Cambodians—and since we were all arriving from Cambodia, this must be some kind of retaliation. Personally, I didn’t believe this, but we had to wait for the truth to come out.
Once everyone had arrived, I asked one of the staff members again what was actually going on. He explained that they were going to escort us to our luggage. I told him I didn’t understand; usually, we aren’t escorted anywhere—we simply pick up our bags and leave. He then clarified that we were currently in the domestic section of the airport, while our luggage was in the international terminal. To get there, we needed a security escort.
Phew! I felt relieved—and I hope the others did too. So, there were no repercussions; no one had planted drugs in our backpacks, and we were free to go.
Gin and tonic, music
Half an hour later, I arrived at the Hotel Riu Phuket.
My friend and his partner were waiting for me in front of the hotel entrance with a glass of iced gin and tonic and the song “Take Me Home, Country Roads” by John Denver playing.
More importantly, they welcomed me with hugs, smiles, and genuine joy.
Music hasn’t really been a central feature of the last few days—but gin and tonics certainly have. And—since it’s my personal favorite—so have Bloody Marys.
Luxury has also become an integral part of daily life here. Not only am I a guest at a five-star hotel, but I’m also an “Elite Club” member. This means my room comes with a private pool. There’s a sofa, a desk, and a wardrobe right next to a massive double bed. The bathroom is so large that one day, I ran around it twice and ended up out of breath. There’s even my own private refrigerator, stocked with sugary drinks and beer.
Every day, the drinks are checked and replenished to replace whatever I’ve consumed—it feels a bit like drinking from a glass that never runs dry. In addition to coffee and tea, I have my own personal bar stocked with gin, vodka, whiskey, and rum—available whenever I want.
My room is cleaned daily, the bed is made, and the linens are changed. I can order food to my room, and the supply of chips is replenished every afternoon.
The hotel is located right on the beach. If I were feeling particularly fancy, I could take a dip in any of the three or four pools available. There’s a large main restaurant, plus three or four private, themed dining venues—all of which require reservations. We made sure to book a spot somewhere every single evening, so we dined at places where… well, how should I put it? The waiter drapes a white napkin across your lap and performs a little dance with the cutlery on the table in front of you. I wouldn’t say I’m easily shocked, but the sight of some 15 spoons, forks, and knives being laid out at the start of the meal is a clear reminder that I don’t exactly hail from a royal family.
Last night, I ate in my room, using my own collapsible plastic fork. It’s quite a contrast—my minimalist lifestyle versus the reality of this luxury hotel. But I’m thoroughly enjoying it. I’m on vacation—and quite a vacation at that! Yet, that’s not the main reason I’m so grateful to my friends for making this possible. Don’t get me wrong—that’s incredibly important, and it means a great deal to me.
But what matters far more is the time we get to share with one another.
We splash around in the pool. We stand firm against the massive waves in the sea. We sip on countless cocktails. Together, we revel in the sensory feast of these luxurious dinners. Each morning, we ponder the great dilemma: should we have two plates of food, or three? We agonize over whether our next cocktail should be a Bloody Mary or a Mojito.
We’ve walked together, exploring every direction along the beach. I’m strutting around in my new T-shirts, which I received from my boyfriend and his partner. I try to behave like a gentleman during dinners—though that can be a bit of a challenge at times. LOL. I feel that my spirit is far too free to be affected in any way by the gaze of a waiter or another guest. Honestly, this is nothing new; I’ve been this way my whole life.
A Little Bit of Pain
I woke up Thursday morning to find that the earache (in my right ear)—which had been lingering for a day or two—had reached its peak. At breakfast, it was only mildly painful. After our group walk during the day, it became clear that a trip to the pharmacy was in order. I ended up with antibiotics for an ear infection.
By dinner, I was really struggling. We were served an incredibly delicious beef steak, but eating it required a serious effort. I cut the meat into the smallest pieces I possibly could, yet chewing still caused excruciating pain. Still, the steak was so good that I decided I’d rather die than leave it uneaten.
In the end, I finished it—and I didn’t die. But I did end up going to bed early last night.
I woke up early today; the pain is still there, but—at least for now—it feels less intense than it was yesterday. And it’s confined strictly to my body; it hasn’t touched my smile or my outlook on the world. LOL.
I’m ready for our final full day together in this world of luxury. Today promises a few cocktails and plenty of delicious bites.
And as for the friends I’m with—we’re all just tourists on an “Elite Club” style vacation.
I love spending this time with them. I’m living through these days with a heart full of gratitude.
Buy me a coffee?
If you enjoyed this story, you can buy me a coffee. You don’t have to – but it means a lot and I always turn it into a new adventure.
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