Andaman Coast

blue

View from the Ko Phi Phi Viewpoint. Heavily populated Ton Sai Village between Ton Sai Bay and Loh Dalam Bay was struck from both directions and destroyed by the 2004 Tsunami

From our dive instructor's underwater camera: a juvenile emperor angelfish

"SUPER DRY!"

The Andaman Islands of Southern Thailand's west coast have the reputation as the ultimate tropical paradise destination in Southeast Asia.  Travelers drop phrases like "glimmering hedonistic nirvana," and "un-imaginable beauty," with a casualness that we'd reserve for conversations about our "afternoon nap."  But after a horrific tsunami and the years of intense development that followed, where do the islands now stand?

We returned to Bangkok for a little more than a day to see some old friends (food stalls) before flying south to Krabi on the Andaman Coast.  We skipped the region during our first trip through Thailand, the peninsula is on a different monsoon schedule from the Gulf of Thailand, and we wanted to avoid traveling through the deep south by land because it is prone to outbursts of separatist violence and government suppression (the southern provinces have a sizable, poltically marginalized Muslim population).  From Krabi Town we caught the morning ferry to Ko Phi Phi Don.

Beautiful as the island immediately appeared, we were just as soon struck by the inflated prices (standard items cost two to five times more than on Ko Chang, for example) of the over-crowded and westernized backpacker village at Ton Sai.  We only planned to stay on Phi Phi for two nights, so the money thing was a pill we had to swallow.  And the beach is free, so that was where we spent most of our time.  Except Ton Sai Bay (the bluer bay on the left as seen from Phi Phi Viewpoint) is used as the pier for major ferries and longtail water taxis, and is therefore not a good swimming beach.  Loh Dalam Bay (the attractive green bay opposite Ton Sai) is not much nicer - like much of the island it feels worked beyond its nature-intended capacity, the bay like a shared waste-deep bath of still water that is a few degrees too warm.

We were missing something essential from the Phi Phi experience.  We sensed our best bet was to escape the backpacker bubble at Ton Sai and try to connect with the natural beauty of the islands.  It was much too expensive to dive so we joined a small afternoon snorkeling expedition.  Christina and I and three kind Swisspersons left on a longtail boat for the small neighboring island of Ko Phi Phi Leh.  There we swam above a parade of blacktip reef sharks, with schools of squid, and even beside a hawksbill sea turtle surfacing for air.  Between dive sites we jumped off our boat and played in the green and blue bays shaped by the enormous karsts that shoot out from the ocean floor.  We briefly visited Ao Maya Bay, immortalized in Leonardo DiCaprio's The Beach, which now hosts some dozen nightly camping trips and all-you-can-stomach booze cruises.  We motored home while the late sun lit the island walls golden.  And finally we got it: Phi Phi Leh and Phi Phi Don are exquisite.  We only had to put ourselves in the right position to appreciate them.

We mistimed our ferry to Krabi the next morning and so we exercised our freedom of movement and changed course, if only because we could.  We caught the next boat to Ko Lanta, which we knew next to nothing about.  There, after several days of intense internetting, Christina applied and was accepted to a yoga teacher training course in the Indian Himalayas.  And before leaving Thailand for Pulau Langkawi in Malaysia, we had one final bruising and blissful Thai massage, one last green curry, and we dove Hin Muang and Hin Daeng, two well regarded Thai dive sites.  We unfortunately missed the "big ones" that patrol the area (whalesharks and manta rays that arrive to feed and be groomed), though the steep submerged walls, soft corals, wondrous diversity of fish, and excellent visibility made for an unrivaled underwater experience.  I return in my imagination.