Full Moon Party

Last weekend I went to the Full Moon Party, an event which has been elevated to the status of legendary among backpacking circles in Thailand. I made it a three day endeavor, since the journey required hauling myself to an island far down south. Transportation to Ko Phagnan involved a van, a cab, an overnight sleeper train, a bus, a boat, and the back of a pick-up truck. Believe it or not, even more vehicles were involved on the way home. This phenomenon has become a classic feature of Thai travel, one that I’m learning to enjoy. On the sleeper train I got to read a lot, then slept through most of our journey.

Ko Phagnan was incredibly beautiful, and immediately washed away any of the travel fatigue that may have been lingering. I initially suspected that the island would be crowded with backpackers for the Full Moon, and it was, but our small cluster of beach bungalows (and the plucky Thai woman who owned them) were fairly isolated. The Chokana resort had food, a hammock, and blue water… I could die happy.


On Friday night we took a songtaew into Trong La, the closest main street, and I waited over an hour for a juicy and long overdue hamburger. I was struck by how many farangs there were, particularly Swedish people overwhelming my senses with their fair hair and azure eyes. Where was the jet-black hair? These past few months have definitely shifted my perception of “unusual” aesthetics.

On Saturday I made it my mission to lie on the beach and wade in the ocean all day. As a traveler expands their horizons, it can become hard to distinguish one tropical paradise from another, but the islands in Thailand breed a certain island lifestyle that blends seamlessly with the atmosphere of mai pen rai. We met a farang named Stevie who’d been lingering in Ko Phagnan for a couple months. He spent his days cruising around on his motorbike, lying on the beach and meeting as many people as he could. Stevie seemed to gain greater fulfillment from becoming intimately familiar with a small plot of land than he did in the big wide world.


That night, there was a full island blackout, and we clustered in the dining area with candles and Singha’s, wondering if the Full Moon Party was still going to proceed as planned. I kind of enjoyed sipping beers by candlelight in the warm night air. We were still laughing and telling stories: good company is all you really need to enjoy yourself. As we were refilling our glasses, power spontaneously returned and was greeted with luminous cheers.

We kicked off our colorful evening by meeting up with Stevie at a resort aptly called “Greenpeace,” where we prepared for the Full Moon party by painting one another with glow paint. My creative side has recently dried up in light of constant travel and teaching, but I got pretty fired up about painting multi-hued swirls and dots across my friends faces and arms.


We packed what must have been almost twenty people into the back of a truck, and the guys on the end clutched each other for dear life. Without being too inflammatory (dad, I know you’re reading this), I can safely say that every traveler in Thailand is forced make some concessions when it comes to their definition of safety. I wasn’t the one hovering at the edge of the trunk, but I was positive the guys whose legs were dangling above the road were flirting with death.


The Full Moon Party itself was as carnivalesque as I’d anticipated. The entire coast of Haad Rin beach was lined with clubs and bars where live DJ’s spinned a myriad of techno, drum and bass, and electronica. Tens of thousands of bodies, each covered in paint and other vibrant accessories, were swaying on stages and in the sand. Vendors were selling “buckets” of alcohol, and there were various structures along the beach bursting with (controlled) flames. I went down a slide from the roof of a two-story bar, and danced in a club built into the side of the mountain (aptly called “Mountain Bar”), then topped off my night with a slice of pizza—nothing ever tasted so good. I caught a songteaw home late into the evening, and thought about what I’d seen.


The evening was pretty fun and indescribable, but I’m not sure if I can handle such a touristy trip for a while. There were a lot of foreigners, therefore steeply escalated prices. While the European backpackers were mostly friendly, they also reeked of youthful entitlement. Haad Rin beach was absolutely covered in bottles and trash, and I can only imagine who had to clean up the mess. Otherwise, I’m never averse to an evening of covering myself in paint and dancing on an island beach with some of my best friends.


(some of these photos were snagged from my friend Kaitlyn—the ethics of journalism compel me to give credit)