Why I Chose Hua Hin
After I retired, I realized I was ready for something different from the life I’d known back home. My travels through Southeast Asia had opened my eyes to another way of living, and Thailand had captured my imagination. So I decided to see whether I could make a life there rather than simply visit it.
When I first started looking for a place to live, I had a fairly simple wish list. I wanted somewhere quiet enough to feel like home, but not so remote that everyday life became difficult. I wanted the conveniences I was accustomed to—good restaurants, a decent shopping mall, dependable healthcare—and enough of an expat community that I wouldn’t feel completely adrift. And, since my Thai was still more aspirational than functional, I needed somewhere where not speaking the language wouldn’t make daily life a constant obstacle.
With that in mind, I looked at Phuket, Pattaya, Bangkok and Chiang Mai.
I didn’t look on the Internet for the perfect spot to live. I actually visited these places. I walked their streets, combed their beaches, and hung with the locals. I could certainly understand what made them so popular, but they just weren’t for me.
Phuket and Pattaya felt like a carnival.
Bangkok was too big, hot and fast.
Chiang Mai had a 3-month burning season — and no beach.
And then I heard about Hua Hin.
But before I take you there, a little History 101…
Long before it became a bustling beach destination, Hua Hin was just a sleepy fishing village on the Gulf of Thailand. But once King Rama VII put it on the map by building his summer palace here in 1926, the secret was out. Visitors and expats have been flocking to its shores ever since.
I didn’t choose Hua Hin because it won a comparison of Thai destinations. I chose it because, after actually visiting the alternatives, I realized what kind of life I wanted.
Sometimes when I’m on the highway, I don’t want to be in the fast lane. I want to slow down, enjoy the view, and take my time getting there.
I wasn’t looking for the fastest lane. I was looking for a place where I could slow down without giving up the conveniences of modern life.
I Didn’t Choose Hua Hin. Hua Hin Chose Me
I can’t tell you the precise moment I realized I had found a new hometown.
I must have had a million clues that something was changing. And perhaps if I had been more attentive, I might have noticed some of them…
Checking the weekly Hua Hin Events page on Facebook.
Memorizing the shady spots along the songthaew route.
Realizing the vegetables at the neighborhood wet market no longer look so foreign.
Discovering the NBA season had come and gone and I didn’t know — or care — who won.
Suddenly buying furniture instead of souvenirs.
You never know exactly when a place becomes home.
It just happens gradually.
It’s a bit like getting older. One day you are feeling young and spry. The next, you find yourself holding the handrail as you walk down the stairs.
And sometimes, it happens just walking down the street.
Discovering Takiab
Most people searching for Takiab will find Wat Khao Takiab, with its hilltop views and resident monkeys. But it’s the neighborhood just west of the temple, near Hua Hin Beach, that has stolen my heart.
And it’s an area I discovered almost by accident.
You see, I used to take daily walks in the air-conditioned mall or along the beach at sunset to beat the midday heat.
Then one day while riding the songthaew, I met a Thai lady who invited me to visit her food booth on Soi 1, smack dab in the middle of Takiab. She advised me to arrive by 6:30 in the morning. I remember thinking she was nuts to think I would get up that early to eat, let alone exercise.
But one day I finally did.
And my morning walk through Takiab has become my favorite part of the day ever since.
It begins bright and early around 6 AM. A time I call the “Golden Hour.”
That time of day when street food vendors are just opening their umbrellas.
When street lamps are calling it a night.
When the air is cool, the traffic light, the asphalt walkable.
My daily walk is more than exercise. It’s a sensory experience filled with familiar sights, sounds, and smells.
The sizzle of fresh meat on a grill.
Monks in saffron robes walking single-file down the street.
The “ping-ping-ping” of a motor scooter taking its driver to work.
The resonant blessing of a monk receiving alms.
The intermittent crow of a rooster, asking “You still asleep?”
This is my route. My routine.
Becoming a Regular
It took about two weeks of walking through Takiab before I came to be recognized as a regular. The locals didn’t know me by name, only by my daily walking schedule.
I see many of the same faces every day:
The young Muslim lady whose fresh fried chicken is probably causing the Colonel many a sleepless night.
The older Thai couple waiting patiently at the same spot to give alms to the monks.
The street vendor pouring his first batch of Khanom Krok.
The three young Thai boys trailing the monks, carrying alms back to the temple.
The street vendor who always greets me with a loud “Mister!”
From Stranger to Neighbor
I no longer just live in Hua Hin. I feel like I belong here.
I’m not precisely sure when that feeling of belonging first took hold.
It wasn’t any one particular moment that made Hua Hin feel like home. It was the accumulation of a thousand tiny ones.
You realize you are no longer a stranger when:
The “sawasdee ka” from the neighborhood ice merchant suddenly sounds a little brighter.
Your favorite street food vendor remembers your pathetically low tolerance for spice.
The condo’s security guard gives up his chair when you drop by to chat.
Your face has become so familiar that even the temple’s furry welcoming committee has stopped barking at you.
I am no longer an International Man of Mystery. Many of my new neighbors actually know something about me.
Where I am from.
Why I walk to the temple each day.
Some of the more curious ones even know my marital status.
I’m still a farang. There is no mistaking that. But I’m no longer a stranger.
