The beach.
Oh, how I love the beach.

I'm in a small city three hours south of Bangkok, a town by the name of Hua Hin. It's along the eastern coast of Thailand, on the opposite coast from where the tsunami hit. The sand is white, the water bluest of blue, the days are hot and the water is surprisingly warm. The beach is covered in European tourists wearing far too little and more tourists wander by on horseback. But they don't bother me. I'm in my own little world. I'm staying in a guest house for missionaries just off the beach. It's more rustic than the awesome hotels nearby but it's great. I feel like my stress has been shipwrecked just beyond the horizon and I've been washed up on a little island of idyllic peace. I want to stay here a very long time.

But I'm leaving tomorrow to return to the mass chaos of Bangkok. I feel like I've done all I have to do and I've seen all I have to see there. I feel like it's time to leave but I can't. The planes are all too full until Thursday, and besides, my Korean visa doesn't come until Wednesday. I wish I could stay at the beach for those days....