DEliTOUR: Finding Koh Jum

We spent some quality time with a reference books (LP South East Asia and a second hand Thailand Rough Guide), as well as talking to some sensible people we met. Being new to Thailand we didn't know what to expect but we had narrowed our priority destinations down to a few islands - Ko Phayam (not far from Burma), Ko Chang (the Ko Chang next to Phayam), and Koh Jum (also known as Koh Pu, midway between Koh Lanta and Krabi). All three were not in the South East Asia book but all sounded quiet and devoid of package tourists, and with plenty of cheap accomodation, and lots of beach - maybe not spectacular beach but beach all the same.

We toyed with some sightseeing options but decided to head for Koh Jum as it appeared first on our horizon. We rejected the pricey tourist ferry option and headed to Trang for a night, where we enjoyed our first taste of a Thai town, before getting a morning bus on to Nea Klong, then a people carrying truck (the legendary songteaw) to the tiny sea gypsy stilted village of Laem Kruat; for the longtail boat ride 45 minutes across to Koh Jum town.

I already loved all the names of the Thai towns - I can roll Nea Klong around my tongue for hours - and we have also learnt to love the local transport. The longtails are small wooden boats that have enormous truck engines on the back with a very long pole-like shaft (maybe 3m long) that connects to a propeller - hence the long tail. They don't have keels and the long tail is levered in and out of the water in the shallows. At least they are wooden so should stay afloat. Whenever you are near the coast you can hear the throb of a longtail engine. On a day trip to Railay Bay the other day we were on the loudest longtail in the history of the world ever. We had to put our hands over our ears and I swear that is the boat you can hear wherever you are in the country!

By the way every place in Thailand has about 6 names: Nea Klong, Nua Klong, Nea Kong, Nuah Klong etc etc which makes any conversation about getting anywhere independently hilarious.

Koh Jum has 5 beaches stretched out on its Western shore over about 10km. We plumped for the middle beach, Ao Si, as we had read good things about Ao Si bungalows on the frankly brilliant and indespensible Tezza's Thai beach info blog. We had to take a mototaxi (think; beaten up small bike with sidecar made of wooden planks with a flat tyre and a metal cage that can squeeze in a family of 5) across the island, where we saw the tsunami village; 50 pre-fabricated homes that had been made by a relief organisation in the aftermath of the 2004 tsunami. It had been built in an area safe from future tsunami hazards, but was also a stark reminder that, even though miraculously no lives were lost on Jum, Boxing Day 2004 changed everyone in these parts.

We found Ao Si bungalows perched on the hillside at one end of quiet Ao Si beach. They were jungle style bamboo rooms on stilts, some of which had amazing views down the length of the island, and from the bar you could look out onto the Andaman sea. We struck up a deal for 12 nights with the Scottish manager, Phil, and settled in.

Then we took a walk down the beach.

Ao Si beach only had 3 'resorts'. When I first read about Thai resorts I thought concrete and swimming pools but it means just a collection of bungalows or huts or something similar, probably with a restaurant of some kind. We could see 'Jungle Hill', the other similar resort at the other end of the beach. We were walking to find a spot to swim in because of the rocks in front of Phil's place. Then, in the middle of the beach, we saw Sun Smile. There were 11 blue-roofed bungalows and just two guests from Holland. It was imediately apparent that this was the nicest stretch of beach and great for swimming with gently sloping sand well away from the handful of longtails that were actually parked in front of Phil's.

Then I saw the owner, a small but young oriental-looking gent, who showed me a front rower - a bungalow with an obstructed view of the sea through the coconut grove of 8 trees providing a bit of shade behind the beach before the 'resort'. And it was concrete, and had a great tiled bathroom, the bed was new, there were proper nets fitted to the windows, and he offered to undercut the 'sweaty'*. There were even useful furniture units. And parasols for the beach. And we would be giving money to a 'chao leh' family rather than to another gringo-owned hotel. I had had enough of dodging wildlife filtering through jungle-style construction back in Mexico. The thought of not having to use a mosquito net, of the amazing view, the lovely balcony - it was a no brainer.

But I had to go back to Phil and renege on our agreement. He actually kicked us out straight away with a smile and we gave him 200 baht (4 euros) for his trouble. Our room at Sun Smile would cost us 380 baht per night. Not the 250 we had hoped for on quiet Thai islands but we haven't found anything remotely comparable at the price before or since. As we left Phil's down the endless steps through the jungly hillside at dusk we realised what we would be missing. I had already left a crazy pink frog in the bathroom. Now, as we descended, fully laden, thousands of gigantic moths lifted off around us, clouding the path and echoing into the trees.

I woke up the next morning and jogged just after dawn on the beach - for the first time in my life. I was pretty scared when I made it to Phil's end but as I ran back past Sun Smile I saw a big cat running from the rocks at the other end. Only it wasn't. It was one of about 40 monkeys all running up the beach from a little circle of rocks back into the trees. I eased up and watched them squabble and play. Were they fishing? I have no idea. It turned out that two tribes of monkeys lived either side of Sun Smile and had frequent territorial squabbles. We would see plenty more of them - especially when they would try to steal thong-clad-Klaus' fruit!

That first full day we enjoyed the simple, basic but good enough food from the Sun Smile kitchen and we saw the arrival of a handful of new guests. This would become pretty much the only daily event. In the morning the tourist ferry would come from Koh Lanta, and in the afternoon from Krabi, and the Sun Smile boatman would go out to meet it and bring back a few new guests. Many would only manage a night as our island is just too quiet for some. A few would walk the few kms down the beach in search of more family-orientated digs, and a few would stay a few days.

None of them got bungalow 302 though. That night we discovered the stunning sunset view across 25km of Andaman see to Koh Phi Phi. Every night the sun would set over Phi Phi (Pi Pi or Pee Pee sometimes:)), the island famous for scenes from The Beach movie. Actually it is two islands, Phi Phi Don and Phi Phi Leh, the later being uninhabited and 'the beach'. Those of you who have an unhealthy memory will note that Anna and I met while The Beach (with Leonardo) played on the giant Stella screen on Brighton beach, and that our first date was at The Beach club (with my dad shaparoning!). We felt some kinda divine circularity looking out on the islands' silhouette. We joked that we could split up now we have come full circle - we're not by the way!

By the way, the 'chao leh' are the decendants of Chinese migrants; the sea gypsies of South East Asia. Our host, who we found out was called Mr. Ka, had a Chinese background. Mrs Kim, his wife, was from local island, Koh Yao Yai. They had two daughters but we would spend more time with Mr Ka's 'my son'.

*sweaty sock = Jock = Scottish bloke