Flash Pack Thailand: Bangkok, Krabi, Phuket & More

Let’s Start at the End: Thailand Day 9

“Sorority Squat!” someone called out and everyone laughed. All eight of us women draped in breezy billowing dresses and skirts lined up on the beach, our spectrum of tanned backs turned to Phuket’s setting sun. We edged closer together to orchestrate the quintessentially American pose that I had to explain to them just ten days ago. It was an inside joke now. We had created little storylines amongst ourselves and the four men in our group. They, along with our charismatic guide Gong, stood opposite us balancing all the camera phones we breezily handed over without relinquishing their glasses of mai tais and pina coladas. That was the effortless routine within our group by now. The ocean breeze picked up, ruffling the backless indigo dress that cascaded around my shoulders. It hung loosely on me because it wasn’t mine. It was my last night in Thailand and my clothes were all gone… even my bras. To make due, I borrowed the silk outfit and used a scarf as a makeshift bandeau by tying it around my chest. I willed the winds to cooperate as I started to feel the silk front slip off my shoulders, hoping the barrage of photos would wrap up in time to adjust my top. Not a moment later, the front of the dress slipped down, revealing the versatility of my scarf to a row of camera phones as well as the crowd of people that had gathered to watch the tourists pose. I had just flashed my Flash Pack group.

Day 0

When I travel, I’m usually the itinerary planner. This means that when I travel alone, I’m always on guard as a solo female traveler. When I’m with friends, I’m usually relegated to the task since it comes naturally to me, for better or worse. As a personal protest, I booked a solo trip to Thailand through Flash Pack, a group tour meant for single travelers aged 30 to 40. I refused to plan any itinerary for my vacation. I wanted to be told where and when to show up and turn off my brain for everything else. I stuck to that as my friends and family kept asking where I was going and what I was doing. I didn’t know, and I wasn’t worried about it. Flash Pack actually did send out an app with an itinerary of our daily activities and even maps of where we would visit. I only briefly looked to confirm I wasn’t inadvertently signing up for a sex cruise, but sans any red flags, I ignored all the details until it was time to pack. Best decision ever?

Day 1

Absolutely. The moment I walked off the plane in Bangkok, my WhatsApp started to ping with messages from my fellow travelers. The entire group had been added to a group chat to get to know each other before the trip and keep in contact during our Thailand adventure. My Flash Pack driver waved me down in the arrival hall. That was the last time I had to think about anything again. He whisked me away in his luxury sedan to my five-star hotel. That’s where I met my roommate, a PR extraordinaire from London. She had arrived from Singapore and before that she was in Dubai. I was instantly a fan when we both started bustling around our room as each of our massive traveling backpacks started to vomit dress after dress as we rummaged through, looking for our makeup. I packed mascara, a brow pencil, and lipstick. I even thought that was overboard in a place where rain was forecast for nine days of my trip yet still displayed temperatures of 85 degrees Fahrenheit. I turned to Lindsey who had packed full-sized bottles of hair products and was not blow-drying her hair. “I regret nothing,” I thought to myself. We headed downstairs. We were greeted by a rave tuk-tuk dispatched to reunite us with the rest of the Flash Pack group who had arrived in the hours and days before. This is where my first and only concern arose.

Sitting around the dinner table, I looked around and saw everyone else was white. From the UK, New Zealand, Germany, and even from the U.S., everyone was Caucasian. With a background in private schools and universities where I encountered predominantly white spaces, I knew what could be in store. My voice could be ignored and overlooked. My opinions were dismissed. My background was dissected and prodded at for their amusement. I braced myself as I introduced myself. I’m a journalist I happily announced. I told them I covered everything including hurricanes, tornadoes, and wildfires. I hoped they interpreted it as “I’ve dealt with serious shit so don’t even try to test me.” No one questioned my credentials. That was it. I was a journalist from Los Angeles. Later that evening when we gathered for our first group photo, everyone awkwardly tried to fit into the camera’s frame without invading anyone’s personal space. I shouted out “sorority squat!” as I instantly hopped to the front and struck a pose waiting for the flash. Some in the group burst out laughing, “What is that?” they asked. They’d never heard of it. I tried to explain it to them but was met with mostly blank faces. Maybe it’s an American thing? I offered. Yes, they all unanimously agreed, it’s a funny American thing. It was the first time in my life that I felt someone had labeled me as American first above all else. Not a gringa nor a valley girl, or on the other side of the spectrum, not the daughter of immigrants. I loved it. Did they think I was silly? Maybe. Confident? Probably. Arrogant? Possibly so. But whatever they thought, it was immediately followed by “American.”

Day 2

Yet ask anyone in Thailand and they’ll say I’m secretly Thai. It’s just that my parents haven’t told me. While everyone else in the group accepted my Americaness, the Thai people were convinced otherwise. While stuck in nearly two hours of traffic when I first arrived, I had my driver correct my pronunciation of the Thai phrases I had memorized. When I stepped off the longtail boat we took to visit our first temple of the day to greet the monks with an enthusiastic “sawadee ka,” they responded with, “you’re Thai!” and rattled off into a conversation I could never understand. I assured them I wasn’t, yet they still eyed me skeptically as I followed my guide and group inside to learn the appropriate prayer pose and how to bow before Buddha. Gong then facilitated a conversation between us and a monk as we asked about his experience. After we prayed alongside him, he blessed us and passed out Buddha talismans and bracelets. We spent the day visiting temple after temple, each getting progressively more touristy, thus making our initial experience so much more impactful. Gong was intentional about the order in which he guided us via tuk-tuk or longtail boat through the winding and pulsating city of Bangkok and every place he led us to had a purpose.

For lunch, we sat banquet-style at a local restaurant that was expecting us. Over Tom Yum soup and seafood fried rice, the conversation swung from geopolitical topics to our thoughts on Meghan Markle. When we all filed out, Gong told us he overheard our conversations, and he was pleased to have such open travelers in the group to spark discussion and learn from each other. He reminded us that when one signs up for Flash Pack, they are met with the tour group’s goal to bring together positive people who uplift each other. It felt a bit hippie-dippie to me (an innately positive and enthusiastic person ironically enough). Yet, it was a theme Gong tried to instill in all of us. When our plans were delayed, or we faced the threat of bad weather, the words that flowed from his mouth consisted of peace amongst the chaos and reliance on good karma. Despite how many people rolled their eyes that first time, I think we all believed because day after day Gong and buddha delivered, saving us from most rainstorms, trip inconveniences, and one potentially devastating jet ski disaster (I still have both my legs and who’s at fault doesn’t really matter).

Day 3, 4, 5

As we settled into our group dynamic, some paired off to become instant best friends while others flitted around getting to know our fellow companions a bit better. Being the American journalist, I was clearly the latter as I eventually made my way around the group asking every person in various peculiar locations (in a sleeper train car, in a rave van, on a kayak, on a longtail boat, in a floating rafthouse) why they signed up for a Flash Pack trip. Some women had some brutally devastating backstories of leaving a seriously toxic relationship with a man. Whether it was calling off a wedding, or simply packing up all their things and walking out when an inkling of infidelity was confirmed, these strong, independent, successful women took no shit. Others were undergoing journeys of self-discovery and self-love as they overcame medical difficulties. Overall, these women craved to be happy and at peace after the world served them a plate of shit on a stick. I was unable to siphon any similar backstory from the men. I did find out they were very much single but felt no reason to wait for a partner to enjoy the beauty of other countries and cultures. We all shared the same desire, to fully enjoy what our life choices have rewarded us with, an adventure in Thailand. That’s around the time I stopped asking everyone questions and when everyone started directing them at me.

Day 6

Did I want to try this unknown Thai snack while touring the night food stalls? Did I want to swim in the waters not far from where we had just spotted a snake? Did I want to try extremely spicy fish curry, which was a favorite of the locals? Did I want to jump into a pitch-black lake before sunrise? Did I want to kayak from our room floating above the water to the other side of the island to look for monkeys? Did I want to make friends with Thai hotel guests and start a salsa dance party? Okay, so maybe I initiated the last one, but all the other times’ someone else asked and I always said yes.

Day 7

I only hesitated once. That was the day we headed out on our coastal jet ski safari. The plan was to get jet skis and Gong would lead us from island to island in the sparking blue Thai waters. My concern was due to my lack of experience with jet skis. To reassure me, I was told it was like snowmobiling. Considering that the last snowmobile experience I had I ended up underneath it buried in snow, I was far from reassured. I partnered up but my partner was feeling a bit ill so she suggested I drive for the first part of the excursion. I planned to pawn the driving off to her the entire trip but apparently, buddha had already cosmically vetoed my scheme, forcing me to take the lead and confront my fear. After ten minutes of failing to keep a steady speed, I got the hang of it zooming above the Andaman Sea as my partner gleefully held on. This is where a jet ski collision almost took place but thank buddha I turned at the last second, narrowly avoiding a direct hit to my left leg. I swear I was going straight and we were told to be mindful of making turns to avoid running into anyone. However, as we were zipping over the sea at 35 miles an hour, racing from island to island and then in between, it was easy to get turned around. Meaning straight for me and straight for the other driver could still lead to a collision course despite our vigilant efforts. I was granted a reprieve from driving shortly after when we arrived at a restaurant in the middle of the sea. It was floating on top of a wooden structure, very Water World chic. The unassuming place caught everyone off guard when they delivered a delicious variety of fried rice dishes. With a full belly and my partner now in charge, I maniacally shrieked with laughter as she raced us to our next stop, Happy Island. As promised, it was paradise. The only thinking on the island was a DJ and a bar. The only way to get there is via jet ski or yacht. So for the last hours of the day, we sipped on mai tais in coconuts and danced on the sand until the sun started to set and we raced back to the mainland to beat nightfall.

Despite the reputation for a wild nightlife, every previous night, we had crawled back to our hotel rooms, drained from the days’ activities, and stuffed with copious amounts of Thai dishes. With no early morning plans on deck, we cumulatively decided this would be our one night to rage. We convinced our minder Gong to take us to a nightclub. I had forgotten at this point that we had assigned our 50-year-old guide to essentially encourage our drunken debauchery, but in true wise older brother fashion, he took us to a place called The Library. It had attentive bar hosts, an impressive DJ, and bartenders who eventually had the bar top ablaze with a fire show. There were twelve in our group so I could see how unleashing a hoard of westerners upon the streets of Phuket could be problematic for him. Somehow though, Gong prevailed and we all managed to be acquiesced by the consistent delivery of EDM beats and mixed shots one of our gracious travel companions so happily and readily provided to us all to keep the good vibes flowing.

Day 8 & 9

The whole trip we had moved from one luxury hotel to another throughout Thailand, so by the time we checked in our last place, everyone was all too ready to spend the entire day lounging by the pool, the hotel’s second pool with a bar, the beach (which was just steps from the pool) or ditching the water effect altogether and sticking by the lobby bar. At this point, we all just talked together. We meandered from one group to another with occasional litmus tests of who wanted to do something else. One group was at the bar if anyone wanted to join. Another person was headed to the hotel gym. The rest resembled tanned rag dolls listless and seemingly discarded on the pool beds, cabanas, or beachside over a towel. At this point, we all knew our days together were numbered and no one wanted to make any sudden moves lest we break the spell Flash Pack had forged that led to our harmonious existence. I had been so blissfully unaware of the end of the trip, that I sent all my clothes out to be laundered. It was only going to cost me $10 so why not make it worth my while and save me from the laundry at home? It wasn’t until that afternoon that I realized I still needed one more evening outfit and all I had left to wear was a bikini, a random pair of linen pants, and a scarf. I tried to make the scarf work as a top with the pants, but the silk sash kept loosening. My roommate came to the rescue offering a dress but the material was so thin I couldn’t go sans bra. I figured my only option would be to double up, so I tied the scarf on tight and tried to avoid any sudden movements.

Despite all my valiant efforts, this is how I found myself flashing my Flash Pack family on the last night in Thailand. Buddha came through though because my scarf did in fact manage to stay up even if my roommate’s dress did not. So everyone got an eyeful of my bra – scarf and luckily not much else. Yet no one even flinched. That’s when I realized the guys had probably seen me in much less every other day of that trip as I frolicked around in bikini after bikini. I laughed as I pulled up the dress and resumed my pose to match everyone else there, who at this point knew what the silly American meant when she yelled out “sorority squat!”

By the end of the trip, I had come to two realizations. One was that I was at the point in my life and my career where anything less than a four-star hotel during a vacation was now out of the question. Secondly, spending my vacation with anyone or anything that didn’t replenish my soul was also no longer an option.

Itinerary

Hotels