Silence before the Storm

We reached Maya Bay, where our boat docked alongside many others. The captain started collecting the ฿400 National Park fee from those who wanted to step onto the beach. Not everyone on our boat paid, some stayed behind, and honestly, even I wasn’t sure what was inside. But Sam seemed to know. She had carried a bag with clothes, intending to change. I took her bag, pulled out my wallet, and handed ฿800 to the captain. He watched me closely as I did. Then, he reminded all that we had an hour before the boat would leave.

Inside, Maya Bay was… just a photo spot. A long queue of tourists coming and going. The beach was undeniably beautiful, framed by towering cliffs and turquoise waters, but the experience felt curated. There was a small park area with washrooms, where people were changing into outfits for the perfect shot.

Sam took the bag and headed to change, but when she returned, she hadn’t. Something was off. She was silent, frustrated, and on the verge of tears. After some coaxing, she admitted she had forgotten her dress in the other bag. That was it, her mood flipped, and she quietly cried, upset at herself.

I tried to console her. “Photos aren’t everything. It’s the experience that matters.” But for her, it felt like a wasted moment, a wasted ฿800. To be fair, I wouldn’t have gone in either if I had known we couldn’t swim in the crystal-clear water. But I reminded her that forgetting a dress wasn’t a real problem. We were in a foreign country and people lose passports, money, or even their phones. If something like that had happened, then sure, that would be worth stressing over. But crying over missing a photo in the perfect dress at Maya Bay? It didn’t make sense to me.

But a girl is just a girl.

I playfully forced a few photos of us in whatever we were wearing, trying to lighten the mood. Then, with the moment behind us, we headed back to the boat, ready for the next stop, unaware of what was about to unfold.Read more