Travel in a Hotel Room / Koh Samui’s “The Library” Hostel  Blood-Red Pool Sets the Tone

Text & Photos / Ding Yi  Excerpted from / Time Publishing’s “Traveling in a Hotel Room”

About Ding Yi
A passionate enthusiast of design, writing, music, architecture, photography, and travel, he loves backpacking and has been engaging in in-depth travel around the world for years, with footprints in over fifty countries. Through the perspectives of different creators—musicians, writers, architects, painters, designers, poets, composers, photographers—he discovers the subtle glow within hostels and senses their distinctive flavors.

Dubbed by “Cheers” magazine as a “dazzlingly versatile creative genius,” he is a columnist for “PLAY” and has also written articles on advertising and design for “Brainstorm.” Currently the Executive Creative Director at Publicis Bangkok, his ten-year portfolio of advertising work has won over two hundred international and local creative awards, with his advertisements featured in major international creative award yearbooks and design magazines worldwide.

I wouldn’t call myself a die-hard fan of Haruki Murakami. I vaguely remember reading a few of his books, one of which was Kafka on the Shore. I didn’t finish the book, but one scene left a deep impression on me.

The main setting of the book is a seaside library. After running away from home, the protagonist spends a long time living off books. The library has a floor-to-ceiling window that offers sweeping views of the sea and sky. At five in the afternoon, sunlight streams through the glass, yellowing the pages filled with words.





In this library, the protagonist finds the greatest solace in life: reading.

I can’t be sure if the hostel owner has read this Murakami book, but naming it The Library almost certainly ties it to books. This hostel, built on Thailand’s Koh Samui island, centers around the very library where I’m now lying and reading; and it just happens to sit right on the beach, making it hard not to think of Haruki Murakami’s novels.

There is a whole world between the pages.




Scattered across the hostel’s lawn, under the trees, and along the corridors are nine white human-shaped statues, roughly life-sized. Their common trait? They’re all reading—sitting, standing, lying down, or sprawled out. These figures, named “Readers,” stem from keen behavioral observations.

“Many people bring a few good books with them on vacation. Reading seems to be the most luxurious pastime during leisure time,” the male owner says with a smile. “I wanted to create an environment suitable for reading, which is why I incorporated the idea of a library into the hostel.” The collection includes books the owner has sourced one by one from small bookshops around the world, covering art, humanities & archaeology, science & geography, design, and history. The thought of sharing beloved books with others is a joyful one. Looks like this book lover has truly found the right place.

 

Step into the bedroom, and there’s no five-star hotel extravagance, no perfume-scented flowers, no 55-inch LCD TV, no crystal chandelier, no ultra-plush bed, nor any cleverly designed telephone. What greets you is a bright, unpretentious room and bathroom with a subtle Zen feel—no superfluous decorations. There’s a small bed, a sofa set, a desk, and a pot of tea. Its tranquility becomes sound to the ears; its simplicity, color to the eyes. A Tibetan singing bowl catches your eye in the corner by the bed—on closer inspection, it’s tactile and playful, even the brass seeming delicate and translucent. After dropping off my luggage, I’m eager to head to the library.





A Space Carved with Care by Light
Eight years ago, when I visited the Shiba Ryotaro Memorial Museum and Library in Osaka, the moment I stepped through the threshold, I was surrounded by mountains and seas of books. That morning, the sunlight wasn’t particularly strong, but rays poured in through numerous glass windows of varying sizes and translucencies, illuminating bookshelves eleven meters high stacked with over twenty thousand volumes. Here, a room without books is like a body without a soul. Though I haven’t reached the point where I’d rather go without meat than live without bamboo, a day without reading leaves me feeling as uncomfortable as a day without a shower or fresh clothes.



Tadao Ando is truly a sculptor of light. The light that shines through his soulful windows acts like a sharp blade, carving unique personalities into every contour of the architecture. He believes that a good building must take into account “the shifting play of light and shadow over time, the scents carried by the wind, the conversations echoing within, and the sensation of air floating around and brushing against the skin.”

The library at The Library sees light just escaped from the Gulf of Siam (now called the Gulf of Thailand). Three of its walls are floor-to-ceiling glass, while the other is lined with row upon row of books, providing intellectual nourishment for the vacationing brain. Light jumps from one book to the next, shadows playfully hiding between spines, only to vanish again as soon as you spot them.



Borrowing a few books, I spend the entire afternoon leisurely by the pool. The blood-red pool bottom stands out strikingly against the blue sky and sea, stirring the heart and stirring up a slight sense of suspense—as if you’ve just stumbled upon a crime scene in a mystery novel. You might even hesitate for a moment before taking the plunge. In 2010, it was selected by TripAdvisor as one of the world’s top ten coolest hotel pools.

Step Beyond Words to Feel Beauty
The Library has only twenty-six rooms, numbered from Page 1 to Page 26. Each room is like a blank sheet of paper, and the guests are the authors, filling the twenty-six rooms with all kinds of life stories. In this sense, the entire hostel is like a book. Over the years, guests from all corners of the globe have filled its pages with diverse life tales and personal stories, collectively authoring a multi-faceted literary work.



John Berger, born in London in 1926 and one of the most influential aesthetic critics of our time, wore many hats as an art critic, novelist, and screenwriter. Alongside Swiss photographer Jean Mohr, he explored the essence of photography in their classic work Another Way of Telling. Attempting to tell stories of unrestrained freedom hidden within life, the book relies solely on a series of photographs—no intention to document, not a single word, just pure imagery.

I recall sorting through some old photos not long ago. Looking at those yellowed images, I tried to recapture some lost meanings. Without the guidance of text, the imagination grows even more vivid and lively. The Icelandic band Sigur Rós, known for their ethereal sound, released a nameless music album represented only by two parentheses ( ). It contains endless possibilities, with all eight tracks titled “Untitled.”

Beauty Lies in the Unseen
Similarly, even if you emptied The Library’s treasure trove of words, you might still not find the perfect term to describe it. This fashion-forward hostel built with words requires a slow, heartfelt appreciation and interpretation. To borrow a line from Tagore’s Stray Birds: “Ah, beauty, do not seek your flatterer in the mirror.”

Sometimes, true beauty often hides where the eyes cannot see. On page 336 (English edition) of Kafka on the Shore, it is written: “The deserted library in the morning light has an indescribable attraction for me. The souls of the words seem to float in the peaceful air, lingering for a long time.” Before leaving the hostel, I make one last trip to the library. It’s empty except for the sound of my own footsteps, gradually shifting from muffled to clear. I wander alone through the sea of books, where the fates of too many writers are laid bare.



[The Library Hostel]
Address: 14/1 Moo.2 Chaweng Beach, Bo Phut, Koh Samui, Suratthani 84320 THAILAND
Phone: +66-77-422767-8
Email: rsvn@thelibrary.co.th
Website http://www.thelibrary.co.th
Visit date August 2011
Room number Page 10