Celeste turns the app on and off. Still nothing. 24 minutes left. We ride on. The iPhone is turned onto flight mode then back again. It does the trick. Google lady gives us an update; “turn around”. 20 minutes left, but we have directions.
The streets we zoom through are usually filled with an assortment of road users, pedestrians and canines during the day. It is only the latter that still trot along the roadside at this blue hour. Clouds are taking shape above us. The sun is coming.
15 Minutes left and the ETA and our chosen location is in 9 minutes. We are just going to make it.
We just make it. With 7 minutes till the life-giver rises over the Gulf of Thailand and her islands we “have arrived at your destination.” Google lady is right. But there is a problem. The beaches can only be accessed through the gates of a resort, defeating the whole purpose of finding a secluded spot, and in any event the gates are shut. We u-turn and head north.
Along an empty road, through the dense rainforest and locals that are lucky enough to have little of any contact with tourists. 5 minutes left and we miss the sunrise. A road to the right. I stop at this proverbial fork, now made literal. Ahead is a safety, but zero chance of a beach. Right is a road leading into the forest that is clearly winning the battle over its tarred foe. The road is windy and canopied by the jungle trees. It's our only hope for the stretch of sand we seek.
Open throttle and we hit the damp tar that was clearly at one time used regularly. Maybe a decade ago by the looks of it. We pass skeletons of houses that have been abandoned. We pass under a boom that is left in the upright position and is now enveloped by creepers. We descend and through the trees we ride onto and abandoned beach side parking area.