And they happen all the damn time.
Sunset is nature congratulating you for making it through the day. It’s the cathartic symbol of the elemental restart we all do on a 24 hour basis. We wake up in the morning. We make plans and do our best to accomplish them. We run into obstacles. We embarrass ourselves by wearing a stupid shirt or farting during yoga. We recover enough to make a small pinch of progress. And then we lock it all away for the night, wipe the slate clean, and try to do better next time. The earth is doing the same thing, and the “slate cleaning” part is the cascading volcanic Rorschach of the setting sun. It’s the world burning down the day it built by igniting sky in gilded mercury spatter and hoping the good stuff survives to come back tomorrow. An act assuringly restorative and euphorically destructive in equal parts. Also they look dope on Instagram.
While I’m always willing to drop everything from wine glasses to newborns in order to adequately appreciate a quality horizon engulfed in color, when I’m traveling, sunset somehow takes on an even greater significance. Because travel, being the amplified version of life that it is, is taxing business. And the sunset is there to let you know it’s all worth it. It signals the shift from sightseeing to people meeting, from “best laid plans” to “down for whatever”, from discussing your place on a map to your place in the cosmos. And like all conversations of any depth, real or perceived, they are best enjoyed with quality intoxicants and scene-appropriate music.
That’s right, sunsets have a soundtrack. It’s not a specific genre or artist (although some make more appearances than others). It’s more of an intangible mood that can only be achieved by a certain undefinable quality in music. These are songs that pretentious critics often describe as “panoramic”. They hypnotize and energize at the same time. They start humbly and build to dizzying heights, mirroring the blooming ethereal plumes of light they are meant to accompany. And yes, I have a Spotify playlist full of such songs that you may use for your own sunset-related purposes. This playlist is incomplete and will continue to evolve, but it will always be a devoted sonic ode to the the daily overheated lava lamp meltdown in the sky. The world gave me sunsets. This is the least I can do.
Armed with this sacred collection of auditory green flash, Sara and I have enjoyed some of our best travel experiences during sunset, whether it was seeing Florence under a veil of rose radiance from the hilltop Pizaelle Michelangelo, 
witnessing the whole of Santorini’s caldera bathe in a push-pop-orange glow from a perfectly perched balcony hot tub,
or discovering a hidden terrace overlooking San Miguel De Allende’s Parroquia as the sky devolved into a smoldering Jackson Pollack. And of course, we have added to that illustrious list on Megatrip already. So in the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing some of the best sunset experiences we’ve had on this adventure. And whenever possible I’ll try and include a selection from the official Megatrip sunset playlist on the side. This is SunsetTrippin, and it begins now:
Koh Phangan, Thailand, March 1, 2018. The Song is “Before” by Wye Oak from the album Shriek
Sunset Notes:
0:25 A lizard invades the shot on the left side and stays there long enough to get captured in the time lapse. It took us 10 times watching this video to even notice that sly bastard.
0:41 The best part of 80% of sunsets happens after the the sun goes past the horizon. Clouds you didn’t even know were there will suddenly light up like billowing fire curtains. If you’re on a “sunset” tour of any kind (see: cruise, carriage, bar crawl, skydive, etc) they’ll likely start turning back the moment you’re done watching the part you need shades for. But the real show is still coming. Get your money’s worth.
0:58 The hilarious pool lights in time lapse. This is Phangan after all, and it was the night before a Full Moon Party! Of course this quiet hotel in the hills is going to try and look the part.
Beautiful!