Cambodian islands: Koh Rong and Koh Rong Samloem

Off the coast of Sihanoukville, two islands make up the main "beach scene" in Cambodia.

Koh Rong is the larger of the two, with the most developed tourist infrastructure. It's the one with the "tourist town" on Koh Touch Beach, spreading onto nearby Long Set Beach, filled with cheap guesthouses, bars, and backpackers.

Head away from the town (by water taxi or, if you're brave of heart, by motorbike taxi), and you'll discover some of the most beautiful white sand beaches.

Soksan Beach Resort

The sand was so white, combined with the bleached wood and the bright sunlight, my camera was struggling with the exposure, and created this high-key effect...

The above pictures were taken on Soksan Beach, a massive, little-developed beach on the south-western side of the island. There are a handful of midrange and high end resorts, and a small fishing village at the north end that is home to a few basic homestays and low-rent guesthouses, and a few restaurants. But most of the beach was, at time of my visit, undeveloped.

Sunset on Soksan Beach

The village at the top end of Soksan Beach

The other island, Koh Rong Samloem, is quite a bit smaller. There's no real town, and no roads. Instead most accommodation is spread along the main bay (Saracen Bay), and consists of mostly small midrange and flashpacker bungalows, with a few expensive bungalows and "glamping" setups thrown in for good measure. The nature of the short-term leases on the island mean that, at the time I visited at least, there were no large resort operations.

There was a big storm one night while I was there; this was taken in the aftermath, while the sea was still rough. It understandably left the beach looking a little scruffy.

The main bay is fairly well developed, although not hugely crowded because the bungalow joints are all quite small. But if you want something even quieter, you can hike across the island to Secret Beach, which has only a couple of bungalows. 

If you do decide to base yourself at Secret Beach, or just visit for a day from the main bay, please be advised the path is quite rough in places (deep ruts and some steepish hills) so is probably best not attempted in flip flops, even though it's only about a mile. Take a powerful torch if going at night.

I also found quite a few sand-flies on Secret Beach when I visited, so make sure you have repellent.

A layover on Bukit

I've been to Bali quite a few times before, and explored quite a bit of the island on previous visits: my first trip had (briefly) taken in some of the big tourist hotspots (passing through Kuta on the way to Ubud) before deciding that wasn't the Bali for me, and hightailing it northeast to the hills and north coast. I've explored the east coast and island-hopped around Penida, Ceningan and Lembongan. I've enjoyed the far northwest. But prior to this leg of the trip, I'd never been south of the airport.

Bingin beach

Now I was passing through Bali again, en route from Komodo to Chiang Mai. Might as well break up the trip with a bit more exploration.

Do to the complete lack of public transportation covering the area, and the high fares of local taxis, I limited myself to small subsection that I could explore by foot, staying in Padang Padang, and walking to Bingin Beach and Pantai Cemongkak from there.

Padang Padang beach as the tide is coming in, blocking off my bit of sand

There's some pretty nice scenery, with the cliffs overlooking the sea, but you're definitely in a tourist hub - in the built up centre of Padang Padang, almost every building is either a guesthouse, tourist cafe or restaurant (anyone for avocado smash on toast, or an acai bowl?) or tourist-oriented shop. I tried finding a local breakfast one morning, and had to give up. Not a traditional warung in sight. Meanwhile the beach at Padang Padang is nice but tiny, especially when the tide is in, and therefore crowded. For those that burn easily, like I do, the beach has almost no shade (as the limited shady area at the base of the cliff is taken up by the beach vendors) except for a crowded patch of rental beach umbrellas at the back end of the beach, near the stairs and vendors.

Padang Padang beach - cute but small

Not one for me, I'm afraid.

I enjoyed Bingin beach a little more (it felt quite a lot quieter, probably because the very limited parking in the area and the fact that most places are built into the cliffside means lots of stairs to navigate with your luggage), although the beach was very rocky so not great for swimming. I also enjoyed my time I was walking between centres, routes that took me along quiet back lanes with the occasional cow for company.

Bingin beach

But I was left with the feeling that Bukit is too developed for a northern-Bali lover like me, and ended up only staying a couple of nights in the area.

Please forgive the lack of quality photos in this section -- I wasn't really in the mood to take many, so you're stuck with what I got.

Staying safe and sane on the Gilis

The Gilis (meaning Gili Air, Gili Meno and Gili Trawangan, off the NW coast of Lombok) have been firmly on the banana pancake trail for yonks.

Each has their own vibe: Gili T is the party island and the most developed of the three, Gili Meno is the quietest of the three, and Gili Air is somewhere in between (although large parts of the western coast and interior of Air are still barely developed). I spent a few nights on both Meno and Air. Meno is definitely more my style and I found it a bit prettier than Air, but Air had better swimming and snorkeling in my opinion (especially around the southern half of the east coast).

The lack of motorised traffic, the happy and relaxed other tourists, the plethora of restaurants, cafes and accommodation at all price points: all of it lulls you into an idyll.

This will do nicely (SE of Gili Meno)

But there are a few things to be mindful of -- to ensure your holiday stays idyllic.

First, the currents around the islands are very strong. I noticed this especially around Gili Meno. For most of the north and west coasts there is a fringing reef, which can only be swum over at high tide, resulting in quite shallow water on the inside of the reef at lower tides. But once you're over the reef into the deeper water, there are very fast-moving currents running parallel to the beach. I noticed quite a few people get into trouble along the north shore, fighting against the currents not to be swept off, shouting for help from the snorkel trip boats. 

I also noticed the boats would throw a life preserver to, or turn on the engine and go chasing after, tourists who were from their boat and got swept away. But they ignored the cries for help from tourists who weren't from their boat. Luckily everyone I saw get into trouble managed to either get rescued by their boat, or reach the fringing reef and get over it into the safer, shallower water. But it must have been a scary experience for many -- I saw one woman burst into tears as soon as she was safely in the shallows.

Snorkel boats crowding around Nest (a collection of underwater
statues) on the west coast of Meno

Even on the west shore of Meno, which is very popular with snorkel boats due to underwater statues, the current is quite strong pulling you south, and the reef has few boat channels allowing you to exit the water at low tide. I ended up swimming quite a long way further down the island than I'd intended, just trying to find a way to get back to shore.

So my advice is this -- pay very close attention to the conditions, check where the boats runs are down current from your desired snorkeling or swimming location (as you'll need these to get past the fringing reef at low tide), and be especially careful when you're on your own. Oh, and wear swimshoes as you'll need to walk over lots of broken coral to get to deeper water -- these are not soft, sandy bottoms in the main.

The next piece of advice concerns how you get to the Gilis. Most people visit by speedboat from Bali, but the speedboat operators have a reputation for being cowboys -- we're talking overcrowded boats, going out in bad weather. I personally wouldn't feel safe going that way. The slow ferries to Lombok, being larger, are considered safer.

Bangsal, the main port on mainland Lombok for the Gilis has a reputation for being a hole, filled with hustlers, but I actually didn't find it any worse than any other transport hub in SE Asia, so you don't need to try and avoid it, despite what Lonely Planet says.

Sunset from the west coast of Gili Meno, looking at Gili T in the
foreground, and Bali's Mount Agung in the background

Getting away from it all on Gili Gede

Gili Gede is one of the so-called "secret Gilis" in the southwest side of Lombok. Tourism to this area has been growing over the past few years, driven by people trying to avoid the crowds of the more popular northwest Gilis, but it's still a long way from "developed."

Gili Gede itself is a fairly small island, with a few tiny villages, and a handful of guesthouses and resorts. You can walk all the way around the island in a couple of hours (there's a small paved path that covers most of the island, suitable for walking or motorbiking, although quite broken up in places so watch your footing). 

The scenery on Gili Gede

The central part of the east coast has some nice enough beaches, with white sand and shallow water suitable for swimming with the family, although don't expect the beaches to be completely pristine and swept clean of all flotsam, as these are still predominantly fishing islands, not tourist islands. The southern part of the east coast is mostly mudflats and seagrass, but good for wildlife spotting (a large heron kept wandering into the open air restaurant at my guesthouse, looking for handouts, and the sea outside was filled with starfish).

The beach on the central section of Gili Gede

Although the reefs off Gede are mostly broken up and dead, the neighbouring islands of Gili Layar and Gili Rengit are known snorkel spots and your accommodation should be able to book you a boat to take you out for a day or half day. TBH, the reefs weren't anything really special to my eyes (perhaps I've just been spoiled after Lang Tengah), however they are very quiet, so you can snorkel away from the crowds. And I did spot a giant sea turtle at the drop off on Layar.

Your throne awaits.... (Gili Layar)

It's a fairly chilled out place to relax for a few days, although TBH I was a little bit uncomfortable at just how obviously poor the village near my guesthouse was. The white liberal guilt kicked in, as it doesn't look like any of the revenue from us tourists was ending up in that particular village. Meanwhile, the island's tourism infrastructure continues to grow, with a large new resort and marina under construction on the southwest coast of the island. Hopefully all the development will spread some of that increased prosperity around.

Rush hour (the main cross-island road on Gili Gede)

Civilised Sanur (nom nom nom)

Sanur doesn't get a lot of love.

It's not a trendy part of Bali, like Nusa Penida. It's not a popular, party destination, like Ubud or Seminyak. Instead, it's more like a grand old dame, once-glamourous in her youth, but has since settled down into a semi-sedate retirement. I've now passed through three times, and enjoyed it each time.

The best word to describe Sanur is "civilised." It's got tourists, but it rarely feels over-crowded. There's a little bit of hassle from the beachside vendors and massage ladies, but not too much. The waterfront has a lovely walking path that stretches for miles along the seafront, passing both touristy areas with restaurants and hotels, and quieter areas with lust-worthy private villas. There are a few small temples or museums to visit, but mostly I just go for long walks along the seafront, or find a quiet and shady spot on the beach to sit and read, while people bring me smoothies with little umbrellas in.

Quiet part of the seafront walkway

As you might have guessed, there's a good mix of places to eat, from expensive beachside cocktail bars, to Western cafés offering smoothie bowls and brownies, to local hole-in-the-wall restaurants selling spicy fish stew, babi guling, or mixed rice. Yes, there are a few chain restaurants, but there's also tonnes of good, small places to eat, and a refreshing lack of the burgers-pizza-noodles-friedrice identikit tourist restaurants.

A few suggestions of places to eat:

Warung Nasi Ayam Bu Weti, on the north end of the main drag. Very popular place for spicy mixed rice, with limited seating so get there early for breakfast.

Soul on the Beach - Western restaurant and café on the northern half of the main beach. Their tables are very close together so I would prefer not to eat here when it's busy, such as at meal times, but I've enjoyed stopping off here in the mid-afternoon quiet period for a delicious brownie. There's another location, Soul in a Bowl, off the main drag in the southern side of town, but I've never been to that branch.

Warung Babi Guling Sanur - hole in the wall place on the main street, opposite the McDonalds. Not the best babi guling on Bali, but still pretty enjoyable. Because of the noisy main street location, I typically get it to take-away, and eat it relaxing on the balcony of my hotel room.

Sindhu Night Market - taking over a square at the north end of the centre, this market is as popular with locals as it is with tourists. It's also just about the cheapest place to have dinner in Sanur. A packet of rice and vegetable curries from one of the stalls will set you back 15,000 - 18,000 IDR (or about 1/6 or 1/7 of the cost of a brownie and coffee at one of the waterfront cafés)

Finally, I have to say something about Warung Mak Beng, a place at the northern end of town famous for fried fish and really spicy fish soup. It's hugely popular, so even outside of meal times you'll have to queue for a seat. I ate there once, and found it tasty, but I did get sick afterwards, so I'd suggest being a bit cautious (hopefully I was just really unlucky).

Watching the sunset over the volcano

Fish fish fish fish fish! Jemeluk Bay in Amed

My first snorkel experience was a handful of years back, at Jemeluk Bay in Amed (on Bali's north coast). Never a strong swimmer, I'd wanted to learn to snorkel for a while, but was slightly intimidated by the idea of doing it in deep water, a long way from land. But in Amed, the reef is just off the shore, in fairly shallow waters. Obviously I had to try it, right?

I was entranced from the very first - thousands of small, brightly coloured fish. Fascinating shapes of coral. Even all the idiots standing and sitting on the reef didn't put me off (although I did spend a fair amount of time crossly telling people to get down off the reef, and mostly being ignored by arseholes who seemed to think it was their god-given right to destroy the reef they'd come here to see).

So when I was crossing Bali again on this trip, I definitely wanted to return to Amed, and re-experience the same wonder.

I saw my first lion-fish!

The reef at Jemeluk Bay is still a wonderful snorkel experience, even if it's still covered in idiots trying their hardest to kill it. If you get a chance to come here, do so. And can the local tourist association please hire reef life-guards to kick people off the reef, before the reef dies and takes your tourism industry with it?

I don't have an underwater camera, and typically don't take my phone to the beach, so I'm afraid I have no pictures of the reef. Sorry!

Sunrise over the beach at Jemeluk

Not Lovin' Lovina

Lovina collectively refers to a few beaches to the west of Singaraja. The area is definitely more touristy than Pemuteran, with every second building given over to chasing tourism money (selling taxi services, snorkelling trips to Menjangan), as well as all the guesthouses and homestays.

TBH, although the farmland around Lovina was pretty, I didn't like the vibe of the area as much as Pemuteran, and I found the beaches to be nothing special (I tried snorkelling over quite a large area, and found nothing but sea grass and the odd sea urchin), so I ended up only spending two days in Lovina (one day exploring Lovina and the beaches, and one day visiting Singaraja).

The sunsets were nice, though....

Pemuteran, eventually

I'd planned to get up to the northern and NW coast of Bali on my previous trip to the island (in June 2018). However I'd cut that trip short due to a run of bad luck (unseasonal and unrelenting rain, blisters on my feet from walking around in wet shoes, one of those blisters becoming infected, getting food poisoning, and finally catching a cold). 

So when I crossed through Bali in September 2019, on my way from Java to Lombok, I knew I had to rectify that omission. 

Grey sand beaches at Pemuteran

Crossing into Bali by ferry from Banyuwangi in East Java, you arrive at Gilimanuk, at the far NW tip of the island. From there, you can catch a bus along the north coast road, which will take you through Pemuteran, on the way to Lovina and Singaraja.

Pemuteran is a small town, a few quiet streets on either side of the highway, with a mix of small guesthouses, small restaurants, and a few mid-sized beach resorts. It's very relaxed in feel, away from the crowds and hassle of the southern Bali beaches.

The beach is thataway!

The in-town beach has a man-made reef (wire frames which have been seeded with coral), giving some good snorkelling, and there are plentiful tours to the dive and snorkel sites at Menjangan and the national park. (Unfortunately I don't have an underwater camera, so I have no pictures of the reefs.)

I wasn't certain how long I would stay there - I figured maybe two or three days, but ended up staying five. It was just such a nice, relaxed place to hang. Every morning, I would wander down the shady lane that led from my guesthouse to the seafront, and find a shady place on the sand to settle down with my book and snorkel. For lunch, wander the back streets and find a veggie curry or a rice bowl. Repeat in the afternoon.

It was nice.

Scenery in Pemuteran, sandwiched between the sea and the mountains

Returning to Prachuap, nine years later

I'd spent Christmas 2010 in Prachuap Khiri Khan, and enjoyed this laid-back, non-touristy city, so as I pass passing through the area this summer, I decided I'd pay the town a return visit.

Ao Manao

It's changed a bit. There's more hotels, and a few more Western tourists. In 2010, I went to the beach at Ao Manao on a busy weekend, and was one of only three Westerners on the crowded seafront. This time, there was a small group of dreadlocked women doing yoga in bikinis on the beach (sigh) and gaggles of old white men shooting the breeze in the town.

The town has also added a touristy night market at the southern end of town, and a bike lane along the town's seafront (which is largely unuseable because of all the twats parked on it).

The town is still pretty, though.

Sunrise over the town

Very pretty.

Ko PhaNgan - that's more like it!

Having hated Ko Samui, I wasn't particularly hopeful for Ko Phangan. After all, the island is best-known for the full moon parties, what I can only imagine must be a nightmare of thousands of drunk 20 year olds. No thanks!

Luckily, all the noise and nonsense is largely confined to the SE of the island. In the NW, where I was headed, are quieter beaches and villages that attract families and chilled out types, and almost everyone is in bed by 10:30. Bliss!

I based myself on Mae Haad, a long beach and sandspit connecting the tiny island of Ko Ma, backed by a tiny village (it's less a village than it is 7 hotels, 5 restaurants, and 3 shops). The beach has a fringing reef, meaning the water inside the reef is frequently only knee deep, and warm as bathwater - perfect for lulling about. Walk out past the reef for proper swimming. The reef has big areas that are mostly dead rock, but also has some half-decent live coral on the half closer to Ko Ma.

The main beach, backed by hotels, is swept every morning and kept clean: expect mid-grain yellow sand. The sand spit is not swept, so has a lot of driftwood, seaweed, and a bit of garbage.

The sea in front of the spit and the part of the beach closest to the spit is sandier, and makes for easier access to the sea, but you'll have to swim over the reef here (at low tide you'll have barely more than a foot's clearance, so swim very carefully and shallowly to avoid damaging the coral (or cutting yourself). The sea on central part of the beach is initially rocky, opening out to a sandbar. A narrow path has been cleared, to allow boats access. When using this path, don't step off the clear area, as I noticed quite a few sea urchins on either side of the path. The sea on the inland side, in front of Maehaad Beach View Resort is rocky all the way to the reef.

Accommodation-wise, the bulk of the beach's length is taken up by Ko Ma Beach Resort. Wang Sai's restaurant takes up a small chunk of what's left, with the cabins of Maehaad Beach View Resort taking up the final piece, at the rocky end. All the other hotels are either facing the harbour (around the corner from the swimming beach, on the other side of the sand spit), or one or two streets back from the beach.

The reality is that, unless you can afford one of the most expensive rooms at Ko Ma Resort, your accommodation is not going to be right where you swim anyway, and none of the accommodation is more than 5 minutes to the good part of the beach, so it doesn't really matter where you chose to stay.

The food in the various restaurants is mostly touristy stuff (not much chili in evidence) but I thought Big O had the Thai food that tasted most like Thai food, and Wang Sai has a lovely beachfront location, and makes a nice garden salad.

Ban Chaloklum at low tide

When you're bored with reading a book and lying in the sand, or paddling about in the sea, you could walk along to the fishing village of Chaloklum (about 40 minutes away, including a quite steep hill, going over the headland). Otherwise, this is a nice place to chill, and do not very much.

Ko Samui - what a dump!

While I've made several trips to various Thai islands over the last few years, I've always avoided the more popular islands, figuring they were unlikely to be my cup of tea.

Until now.

I arrived in Samui on the slowish Seatran vehicle ferry via Surat Thani. The process, from pickup at your hotel to arrival at Nakhon pier on Samui was smooth, and the boat was comfortable and not crowded, so no complaints there.

But on the island, it immediately becomes clear that you're in walking-wallet territory. The hassle and scams start immediately.

Looks okay at 8am, when everyone is still asleep

Samui's bus system largely consists of red sorngtaews, which in theory run fixed routes along the main roads - just flag one down that's going in the right direction. In theory, the rates are 50b for a short trip, 100b to go half way around the island. Which is already very expensive for a bus (remember, it's not a door to door service, and they will be picking up other travellers en route, so the fixed prices are basically taxi prices for a bus service). But just try getting the drivers to charge the official prices without a hassle. The first one I flagged down asked for 500b, to go two beaches along. And this keeps happening, so travelling takes ages as you often need to wait and flag down more than one driver before you find a vaguely honest one.

I walked between beaches a lot.

Not that walking is at all relaxing.

The main ring road is ghastly - over-developed, with heavy traffic, and ugly buildings. It didn't help that when I was there, they were ripping out the sidewalks and redoing them, so you had to walk in the street.

Meanwhile, you're constantly being shouted at, either “taxi, taxi!” or “hello, massssaaage.”

I actually feel kinda sorry for the massage ladies - there are way too many of them for the number of customers, so it must be hard to make a living, and I can forgive them the hassle as being born of desperation.

I don't forgive the taxi drivers, though. The taxi mafia on the island keeps prices inflated about 10x higher than they should be, so the drivers really only need to get one or two fares a day to make a living, so they aren't desperate for work. Indeed, most of the time you see them just sitting around, playing on their phones, snoozing, or chatting with their friends (the perfect job for the terminally lazy), only rousing themselves to shout “taxi, taxi” every time they see a white face, like a racist Pavlovian response.

(I sometimes feel like saying, instead of “no, thanks” for the third time in 60 seconds, “What on earth made you think I was interested in a taxi, when I am not displaying ANY of the obvious and easily recognised body language attributes that people the world over display when they are looking for a taxi? And considering you just saw and heard me saying no to your friend, what makes you think I've changed my mind in the last 2 seconds?”

But of course, I don't say any of that, because they know damn well you don't want a fucking taxi. They just don't care. Because what you want is irrelevant; all that's real is what they want. You're not a person, you're a wallet, which is unfairly not spilling it's content on demand, so why should they treat you with any respect?)

In addition to the dishonest bus and taxi drivers trying to overcharge you, other people are getting in on the act, too.

When I first arrived off the ferry, I was hungry and needed the bathroom, so I went into a french bakery and coffeeshop in the town, and had an overpriced and mediocre iced coffee and croissant. When I was ready to leave, I asked the staff which street the buses heading north used, as I wasn't certain which direction to walk to find them. The response I got? “No buses go there. You have to take a taxi. I will call for you - very good price!”

The staff at this cafe are lying to and scamming their own customers. Nice!

But beyond the scams and ripoffs, the ugly over-development and the traffic, what does Samui offer?

I hate crowds and noise, so I picked Mae Nam beach, as it was supposed to be less busy, quieter (with some distance between the ring road and the front), but still had a choice of shops are restaurants available, so I wouldn't need wheels.

The beach is nothing to write home about. The sand is coarse and yellow. The water is murky, with visibility of only about 2 feet. Jet-ski operators along the central stretch of the beach ensure you don't get much peace and quiet, unless you come down to the beach early.

The accommodation along this beach includes plenty at flashpacker prices, but don't expect any beach furniture (like loungers and umbrellas) for guests to use, unless you're staying at one of the more expensive places, so expect that you will most likely be putting your towel down on the sand. Most of the cheaper beachfront places have very narrow lots, so the majority of rooms will be back from the sand anyway (making the off-beach properties, behind them, better value IMHO).

The western end is mostly quiet, with fewer accommodation options, and is within a short walk of the pier for Lomprayah boats to PhaNgan. The middle section houses MaeNam town, and offers a tonne of choices to sleep or eat. The eastern end gets quieter again, but the beach all but disappears at high tide.

No beach here at high tide

When the tide is out, you can walk along the beach from the pier all the way over to Fisherman's Village, in the next bay (although you will need shoes, as it involves going over some low rocks and pebbly sections at the point, beyond the W Hotel). Expect it will take at least 1.5 hours to go the whole way.

I looked at three accommodation places in the section west of the middle, 20 minutes walk from the pier and 10 minutes walk from the town. The first place I looked at, Palm Point, offered me a tiny fan bungalow for 850b, so close to the neighbours that, if we both opened our bedroom windows at the same time, we could have shaken hands. The porch faced directly to the restaurant (which took up most of their beach frontage), from about 5 feet away. No privacy, and noise would have probably been an issue. Agoda showed that they had some cheaper bungalows towards the back available, but they didn't offer those.

I next looked at Mae Nam Resort, 2 doors down. They showed me a beautiful big bungalow, with a huge porch facing directly to the sea. Lots of loungers about the property. But, it wasn't cheap. Their rack rate was 2200b a night. And they were currently doing construction on the property, and the room they showed me was right next to the construction site. That's a lot of money to  spend to potentially be disturbed by construction noise all day.

Finally I looked at Thiptera, about 100m back from the beach, but with direct access along a small public lane. For 800b they offered a large, AC and hot water bungalow facing their small pool. The bungalows were spread out, giving you a little distance from the neighbours, and I could tell that many of them were currently vacant, meaning quiet nights. It wasn't perfect (the cleanliness of the bathroom was a little spotty - the toilet had been cleaned but the shower drain hadn't, and the AC was noisy) but it offered much better value than the other places I looked at.

Still, as should be obvious by now, I wasn't impressed by Samui overall, and really don't understand why it's as popular as it is.

I arrived on Samui on a Monday afternoon. I cut my stay short and left Wednesday morning. 2 nights on Samui was more than enough.

Finding my fins on Lang Tengah

Lang Tengah's biggest draw is probably its exclusivity.

Located about 40 minutes to an hour by boat from Merang, subject to sea conditions, and a twenty minute hop from the more popular (and much larger) Pulau Redang, Lang Tengah is a small slice of paradise.

There are only 3 operating resorts (Summer Bay, Sari Pacifica, and D'Coconut), one warung, and one abandoned resort. Limited accommodation means few crowds. Instead you get long, almost empty beaches of fine white sand. Warm, crystal clear seas. Masses of fish and baby sharks (do do duh do do!) to snorkle and frolic with. Just lovely.

The beach in front of Sari Pacifica

Sari Pacifica's dock

It's not perfect, of course.

Exclusivity has a price. None of the three resorts are within a typical backpacker budget. And I did get a few sandfly bites on the beaches here. Meanwhile the coral off beach is all dead, broken stuff (although there are still some fish, and all those baby reef sharks). Even the famed blue bommie in front of Sari Pacifica seemed MIA (at least, I couldn't find it, nor did I see any snorkle boats in the area, so I'm guessing it probably died).

No one on this beach except you, a small warung, and an abandoned resort

The abandoned resort

But although the off-beach snorkling is fairly poor, there is some amazing snorkling and dive sites within 5-10 minutes by boat.

I've focused on off-beach snorkling in the past, mostly because I've never been a particularly strong swimmer, and got worse after my accident. So I've tended to prefer to snorkle in water that's no more than 10 feet deep, and no more than 20-30m from where you can put your feet down.

On Lang Tengah, I popped my deepwater cherry. The first site they took us to featured enormous chunks of hard corals in 18m deep water. Despite the depth though, it was so clear you could easily see the marine life. I was entranced!

The next site they took us to was maybe 5m (estimating, as I was too busy swimming to ask at the second site). It was absolutely amazing! I saw my first moray eel (mean-looking sonofabitch!).

The snorkle trips aren't cheap - I paid 70RM to join an 80 minute trip, covering two sites. But man, oh man, it was worth it.

Do do duh do do!

Kapas

Pulau Kapas is one of those off-radar islands, and I'm not certain why.

The sand is fine, soft and white.

The water is clear and turquise blue.

And it's only about 15 minutes by boat from the mainland.

Seriously, where is everybody?

Absolute bliss

All the accommodation is along the western beaches, a series of bays connected by concrete walkways. You could walk from one end to the other in perhaps 20 minutes.

First beach, from the north, has a campsite, but no formal accommodation. Next comes a small beach with one guesthouse, Qimi's. The very rustic chalets are kept clean, and I've heard good things about the food here, but there are no locks on the doors, and that may be off-putting for some.

Next is the most popular beach, with 4 bungalow operators sharing a fairly small stretch of sand: Coral Beach (wouldn't let me see a room until 2pm, check-in time. It was 11 when I arrived on the island. Hmm.), Ombak, KBC original, and KBC 2 (the restaurant with attached rooms). Both Ombak and Coral Beach seem to get a lot of groups and package tourists. KBC1 was crowded with loads of kids and too-kewl-for-you traveller types (I figured it would probably be noisy in the evenings - you just know some wanker is going to pull out a guitar). I wasn't impressed with how crowded the small beach was, nor the cleanliness of the rooms I saw at Ombak and KBC1, so I moved further south.

Across the next headland, and just north of the pier, is Pak Ya. The chalets are all seaview facing, but looked very basic. Immediately south of the pier is the large Kapas Island Resort, who told me that they were closed when I wandered through.

But now you're on the long beach, and it's glorious. Soft sand, very quiet. Bliss.

Beach life

Along this beach you have Cocos (restaurant with what appeared to be some rooms or camping as well - it was hard to tell what belonged to which site), Longsha campsite, the new D'Seri, and Captain's Longhouse. Finally, you can climb a track over the last headland to reach the exclusive Turtle Valley.

I don't camp so I didn't check out the campsite, but I liked the look of D'Seri. It's a more expensive than a lot of the others I looked at, but everything was clean and new, and the staff were super nice. Plus, it was on the perfect, quiet beach. So I decided to stay there.

This will do nicely, thank you

They also do pretty nice food, it turns out. I especially enjoyed their cheese sandwiches, served on toasted bread rolls and stuffed with tonnes of salad and grilled onions.

There's some okay coral and fish for snokling from this beach - the best bits I saw where in front of Cocos, starting about 7-8 feet deep at low tide. I heard there was some good snorkling around the headland leading to Turtle Valley, but on the afternoon that I tried to snorkle that way, I encountered some larger jellyfish, and headed quickly back to a more sheltered area of the beach. I also went up to the northern camping beach, as I'd read there was some good snorkling offshore at that end of the island, but a stiff onshore wind was blowing in the small jellies that day (mostly the egg-sized ones without long tentacles, that sting for three seconds and then itch for 2 days) and after a welt or two, I gave up on the idea.

Still, I liked Kapas enormously, and would have happily extended my stay if I didn't have reservations waiting for me elsewhere.

Tioman, sandflies, and the nature of popularity

Heading north from my former home of Singapore, the first touristy destination of note is Pulau Tioman.

This used to be a go-to destination of wealthy Singaporeans and KLers. But I get the feeling that the island's hey-day is long gone. The direct flights to Tioman from Singapore stopped a while back, and I never heard anyone in Singapore talk about going to Tioman (these days, it seems to be mostly Bali).

(Search #Tioman on Instagram, and you get a miserable 179,000 hits. #Ubud has 4.5M.)

Tioman, meanwhile continues much like it always has, ignoring the whims of fashion, and getting on with the business of splashing and feasting. The restaurants may be half empty, the resorts may be a bit quiet, but the pool is crowded and the buffet is popular.

So why do some places become fashionable and others lose their lustre? Beats me. I think mostly it has to do with bragging rights. Maybe 20 years ago, you could impress your friends and neighbours by going to Tioman. Then too many people had been, and it wasn't impressive anymore: "You're going to Tioman? Isn't that where Mrs Teacosy from number 32 went last Easter?" So the keeping-up crowd starts looking further afield. Something more exotic. Something less popular. And fashion moves on again. These days you can't throw a stick on Nusa Penida without taking out half a dozen instagrammers (not much of a loss).

I stayed for 2 nights at the Berjaya, a large, half empty resort along a quiet stretch of beach. The "main" section of beach is on the north end of the property, closest to the bulk of the bungalows and the main restaurant and pool. The nicer sand (softer and whiter) is further south, starting near the reception building, but there are no beach loungers on this section of beach. There's some decent snorkling if you head out from the Thai restaurant on this section of beach - at low tide, swim out until it's 8 - 10 feet deep, and you'll find some attractive coral, plenty of fish, and if you're lucky even the odd baby reef shark.

Near here theres is also a small island that is supposed to have some good snorkeling, but it is a bit far for most people to swim out to, so you'd need to arrange a boat from the small house dock.

There are plenty of sandflies on the beach, so make sure you use plenty of repellent (the resort provides bottles at the beaches, a nice touch).

The Berjaya has a nice location and good facilities, but was quite expensive (and I hate to say it, not actually that clean or comfortable), so I moved for the next 2 nights to an apart-hotel by the same owners, Selesa, about 25-30 minutes walk away, where you get a massive 2 bedroom apartment for half the money of the resort's cheapest bungalows. Take the little road through the Berjaya's barely-used golf course, and you'll come to it. They provide regular transport services, but I didn't actually know about these until the day I left, so I usually just walked - most of the time a friendly local or hotel employee would be passing and offer me a lift.

Apart from 3 restaurants at Berjaya, there are a couple of small restaurants just outside the resort gates, otherwise it's a 30 minute walk, or 5 minute ride in the regular resort shuttles, into the town.

Tekek town is very small (don't let the airport fool you) and boasts a few duty-free shops / minimarts, a tiny bakery, and a couple of small restaurants /cafes (half of which were closed on my visit). Riverside Cafe seemed to be the only busy restaurant when I passed through town one lunchtime. The soup served with the chicken rice is probably the reason why. Yum!

Getting there: Bluewater Express runs ferries from Mersing (look for the new ticket office in the fancy-looking air-conditioned terminal building across the street from the dock and the old ticket offices). There's a cafeteria in the new terminal, plus several small restaurants clustered near the dock. If coming from the north, both Bluewater and the nicer Cataferry boats run to Tanjung Gemok, near Endau. Schedules vary with the tides, and are posted on both company's websites.

Monkeys... why is it always monkeys?

The grey, furry face stared unflinchingly back at me.

I froze halfway up the long, steep staircase that wends its way up Mirror Tunnel Mountain, known in Thai as Khao Chong Krajok. I'd been attempting to climb up to the Wat on the summit, but found the route blocked by dozens of monkeys, lazing on the steps and scrambling along the railings.

I'm terrified of monkeys, so it's possible that Thailand wasn't the most logical place to come on holiday. I'd been here two weeks, and thus far I'd managed to avoid getting up close and personal with the furry critters. Now I found myself face to face with dozens of them, each the size of a three year old child, if three-year-olds had enormous canine teeth.

I fled back down the hill, very aware of the sudden trembling of my knees.

Safely back on the roadside at the bottom of the hill, I caught the eye of a snack seller. She gestured at me, waving up up the stairs. Climb back up. It's fine, she seemed to say.
I shook my head. Too frightened, I mimed back.

She grinned, and walked twenty feet from the staircase. Then she started calling the monkeys, shaking crumbs from a plastic bag onto the ground as she made high-pitched hooting noises. The monkeys came running leaving the steps, if not free of monkeys, at least less thoroughly clogged with critters as they had been.

It was my chance.

Gingerly, I resumed the painfully slow process of easing myself up the mountain, dodging the remaining monkeys as I went. By the time I'd passed the last of them and was finally able to look up at the scenery again, I realised I was almost at the summit.

View from Wat Thammikaram

Wat Thammikaram, established by Rama VI in the first decades of the twentieth century, perches on the very top of the mountain like a contented white cat sleeping in the sun. It's a small temple, just a few pale buildings shimmering in the midday heat.

Apart from one small boy, I had the views all to myself. White-sand bays and pine-covered islands spread before me like a postcard. Turning to face inland, I could see into Burma; the border is only eleven kilometres away.

When I'd taken my fill of the views, I started back down the long steps accompanied by the small boy. He proudly showed me his empty slingshot, brandishing it theatrically at each monkey that got too close. Amazingly, the monkeys that had so easily intimidated me on the way up now scrambled out of the boy's way. I was too grateful to be embarrassed.

The mountain rises above the provincial capital of Prachuap Khiri Khan - but don't let the word “capital” fool you. It's a small, sleepy place that sees few western tourists.

Prachuap features a handful of guest-houses clustered along the bay and a half-dozen restaurants and cafes offering fresh seafood to go with the sea views. Just south of town is Ao Manao, a pine-lined beach on the local military base (tourists will need to sign in and out at the base's main gate, which turns out to be a lot less intimidating than I'd expected).

Not far from the beach there's a troupe of black and white lemur monkeys that hang out by the roadside in hope of being fed. Unlike the more common grey macaques (who'd intimidated me on the mountain) these lemurs are as gentle as can be.

I stopped my bicycle and watched the monkeys being fed fruit and nuts by a couple of young Thais. Would I like to feed them? Of course I said yes, I'd love to. I accepted a few peanuts and held my hand out, close to the ground.

One of the lemurs walked up to me and, almost politely, took the peanuts from my hand, his tiny fingers just touching my palm. Then he was hurrying back to his family, where a mother, tiny gold baby clutched to her breast, waited for her dinner.

Who's afraid of monkeys? Not me.

This article is based upon a trip to Thailand from December 2010.

Chilling in Cherating

It's off season on the East coast of peninsular Malaysia, at the tail end of the monsoon season – the weather is dull most of the time, but I don't really mind. After almost 2 months on the road, I just want to chill.

Cherating is a tiny town – one street – sandwiched between the sea and a mangrove-lined river. There are about a dozen budget guesthouses, mostly rather run down, and a couple of mid-range places. The Club Med is a 40 minute walk along the coast.

Don't expect wifi or hot water in your budget chalet, but you should be able to land one with a big veranda, for sitting and reading, drinking a cold beer, or just listening to the wind and the crickets.

Matahari Chalets, enjoying a sun-beam

The town boasts one convenience store, one internet cafe (with the fatest and most reliable connection in town), and 3 open front cafes/restaurants (what the Indonesians call warungs and the Vietnamese call Street Kitchens) serving inexpensive rice and noodle dishes. They won't win any awards for the food, but they will fill the hole, with a big plate setting you back about 4 RM (note, there's no ATM in town, so bring enough cash).

There are a couple of sit-down restaurants that cater to tourists – dodgy pancakes, pizzas – and old guys with dreadlocks and tie-dyed shirts hanging about all day. This seems to be where old hippies go to retire in Malaysia.

Swim, my pretties...

What do you do in town?

Walk along the beach. Swim. Surf during the monsoon season. Watch the monkeys jumping about the trees. Hire a kayak or take an organised boat trip along the river to see the mangroves in the day, or the fireflies at night. Walk or cycle to the turtle sanctuary next to the Club Med, and feel superior that you're enjoying the almost-deserted beach next to theirs for free. Sit and have a delicious watermelon shake in Cherating's only beach bar.

It's not for everyone. The "party" options are limited, the beach (while perfectly acceptable) isn't the most beautiful in Malaysia, and the standards of food and accommodation in the town won't please the fastidiously picky. But it's friendly, and quiet, and I enjoyed it.

More thoughts on Langkawi

We're in resort territory now.

Hundreds of hotels, from plush waterfront 4stars to smaller bungalow complexes. Restaurants offering every international food you could desire (artichoke and mushroom pizza, anyone? Or would you prefer the Turkish meze platter?). Duty free shopping and alcohol. Beachfront bars with £2 iced coffees. This ain't Asia anymore....

And yet....

Despite the heavy westernisation of the main strip along Pantai Cenang, and despite the prices for food and drink that are creeping seriously close to western prices, Asia is still here if you look for it.

There's something very Asian to my mind about an aquarium that ends, not in the Western-standard giftshop, but in a fish restaurant.

Visit the rice garden, and the friendly guides will teach you traditional Malay games, feed you rice cookies and coconut water.

Finally, get on a bicycle or take a taxi out from the developed areas. You'll find herds of water buffalo contentedly grazing along the roadside, calves trotting alongside their mothers.

Sit still on a deserted stretch of sand for five minutes, and you'll start to notice the dragonflies. Giant, jewel-toned beasties: first a few will flit past you, then a few more. Soon you'll see great clouds of them, hundreds of them, darting past your outstretched arms like schools of tropical fish, emerald green, lapus lazuli and crimson.

Three minutes up the road you'll pass another newly-built luxury resort.

I can understand why people like Langkawi. I like Langkawi.

I just hope we're not liking it to death.

When you need a vacation from your vacation... (Langkawi)

A month on the road now, and I need a rest!

Langkawi to the rescue, and a couple of days of hanging out by the sea, eating pizza.

Pantai Tengah

The rice garden