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You’ve flown halfway around the world; you’ve sniffed out this hotel that nobody in Falongland or Thailland seems to have ever heard of; so what on Earth is there to do here?

You consider this question as you sink into an old wooden beach chair that cradles you above the sand like a pearl in a shell. To your right, the only other guest you’ve seen is about a hundred meters down the beach. She’s waded into the water and stopped there, motionless. Minutes pass and you wonder if she’s departed her senses. Lethargic waves lap against her shins and she looks down at them contemplatively, as though an answer to some great question lies in this endless push and pull of the Sea of Siam. There is no sound save the whisper of these tiny waves, and the air tastes sweet with a tropical tranquillity.

Welcome to Huaplee Beach.

What is there to do here? Nothing…and that’s just the way you’d want it to be.

It was a long journey from Bangkok. By the time you found the bus depot and got yourself sorted out, it took almost as long as the flight from Falongland. Huaplee is located just south of Hua Hin, about two hundred kilometres from Bangkok, down the west side of the Gulf of Thailland. Not many tourists find this place, and the ones that do wonder if finding it had been their purpose all along. There’s a wholesome laziness that engulfs you here—a delectable lethargy. The languid wavelets that tickle the shoreline seem to slow everything down to their soothing pace.

You decide that the effort of checking-in was effort enough for one day and you settle into your beach chair in preparation for a long respite. The hotel has only five rooms so the handful of staff are more than enough to care for your needs. You ask for a drink and they bring you two. You sit there and watch the sea.

It’s early afternoon so the cook comes out and asks what you’d like to eat this evening. Before long he’s scooted off to the market to buy the ingredients for whatever it was that you ordered. You feel suddenly embarrassed by the fuss you’ve caused but you discover that this is the way it works—every meal fresh and to order. No menu here.

The laziness starts to envelope you before you even know it. Laziness—that’s what this place offers, it’s the main feature, and it’s free of charge.

The owner, Ms. Yingluck, is a painter. The architecture and eclectic details in the building hint that an artist’s hand has been at work here. The structure is pleasing to the eye—somehow worthy, in it’s solitude, of the beach’s picturesque setting. It’s whitewashed lines lie somewhere between south-western adobe and art-deco. It’s certainly like nothing you’ve seen here in Thailland. Ms. Yingluck paints right in the hotel’s dining room, not during meals of course, but her works and easels fill the space with a creative ambiance as the guests dine. During the day you can watch her as she paints. If you ask, she’ll tell you about her work and explain the stories behind each picture.

There is no poolside noise here, because there is no pool; just that wonderfully warm, crystal blue sea. There’s no street noise; no one comes here. The only sounds are the contented murmurs of nature.

Other guests are milling about in the dining room now. You’ll meet them tonight at dinner. You’ll ask them how they heard of this hotel. It’s a fraternity you share—people with enough sense to have come to this place.

For now you just count your blessings, tallying them in the sand with your toe. You don’t have to worry about being late for work. You don’t have to plug the car in to keep it from freezing. You don’t have to do anything.

The beach to your right, as though it were trying to touch eternity, stretches off to the horizon, slowly narrowing to nothingness only to re-emerge again on your left, now steadily widening until it engulfs the chair beneath you. Sand to your left and sand to your right; it’s unbroken, endless. You imagine that you’re sitting on one continuous band of powdery white purity that stretches all the way around the globe. No start, no end, just sand, sun, and solitude. Step off it, and you re-enter the world of traffic, stress, work, and hurry.

Normally you’re the type who can’t sit still for more than ten minutes, but you’re on Huaplee Lazy Beach now and, in the right frame of mind, it stretches all the way around the world.

‘How could it take me so long to find it?’ you wonder.