The only time it seems acceptable for an alarm to go off at 4.30am is the morning of a holiday! We’d planned a minibus to take us to the airport and so we congregated at 2 pick up points.

Our driver Graham was bemused by this busload of women, even going so far as to ask, “where are all the men?”. We tiredly laugh while trying to verbalise the family tree and our missing travellers. Despite our weary eyes, we enjoy a chatty drive to the airport. There’s a variety of moods from single word response Jamei to let me teach you Thai Helsie that consists only of the word HELLO.

We excitedly arrive at a very busy Sydney airport, and duck and weave through the people to check in and stop for the obligatory airport picture, complete with our matching T-shirts and smiles.

Security seemed determined to make sure we weren’t smuggling anything more suspicious than a bag rattling with enough chargers and cords to power a small village, with most of our bags double‑checked. Once through, we settled into the airport rhythm – brekky to fuel up, bubbles to mark the occasion (holiday law, after all), and a few rounds of cards while we waited. Two hours later (and 3 delay messages), we finally boarded, buzzing with equal parts caffeine and espresso martinis.

On the plane, Bek took her role as unofficial bartender very seriously, ordering drinks with such enthusiasm that the crew started eyeing her suspiciously. She insisted – loudly – that not all of them were for her, while simultaneously handing out snacks like a seasoned flight attendant. Helsie, meanwhile, perfected the art of mid‑air hibernation. Boz even poking her just to check for signs of life, which became its own in‑flight entertainment.

Landing in Singapore, we were grateful for the original three layover we’d planned. It meant with delays in Sydney we had no frantic gate‑sprinting, no missed connections, just enough time to stretch, regroup, and feel smug about our foresight. The airport itself was its usual polished self, and we breezed through the transfer like seasoned pros.

Bangkok Airways was our next two‑hour hop into Koh Samui, and by this point the collective energy had dipped into that hazy mix of excitement and fatigue. The inflight meal options were shrimp or fish, which most of us politely declined, but I went for the shrimp, a decision that felt fine at the time. Samui airport was a breeze, and we were met by our driver in a cool minivan complete with party lighting, which briefly revived everyone’s spirits even as we were clearly reaching our limits.

It didn’t take long before my shrimp choice came back to haunt me. As the van wound its way through the island roads, I suddenly felt unwell, rolled down the window, and had to ask for a stop. The shrimp made its dramatic re‑appearance, while the rest of the group tried to balance sympathy with stifled laughter.

The villa arrival felt like stepping straight into the Airbnb pictures, everything exactly as promised, only better in person. Rooms stretched across three floors, each one more incredible than the last, and the group quickly fell into the ritual of room selections, wandering through hallways with a mix of excitement and exhaustion.

One of the staff had set the table and prepared a Thai feast that smelled absolutely delicious, the kind of spread that makes you want to dive in immediately. Platters of fragrant curries, stir‑fried vegetables, and steaming rice filled the table, but my stomach was still staging a protest after the shrimp incident. Everyone else tucked in happily, their plates piled high, while I hovered nearby, equal parts impressed and queasy.

The villa itself was a dream, glowing pool, sweeping views (well it will be tomorrow, and spaces that felt like they’d been designed for both crazy family time and calm. Even through the haze of travel fatigue, it was clear this was going to be something special. I couldn’t wait to wake up and see it properly in the daylight tomorrow.

Here is the full trip if you missed ‘the night before’ – Thailand Family Trip 2026 – Have you met Hannah?