South Thailand, September 2022
The concept of ‘The Secret Map’, the name of this platform, is about taking the road less travelled.
Arriving at Patongon, Thailand’s largest island’s provincial capital, via a night train from Bangkok, is as beaten a path as it gets.
But I wasn’t just there to explore.
I was on the hunt for a quality dentist to finish off root canal surgery that had now spanned three countries – Japan, England, and now the Land of Pearly White Smiles.
Phuket is essentially a big resort, which opened up many options and I found and even made an initial appointment with what looked like the perfect place. After a few days of zipping about on two wheels, I began to get an itch for somewhere less developed.
Just across the sea is the province of Krabi, whose craggy, rugged beauty I’d wandered at through a coach window years before and a place I’d wanted to immerse myself in since then. Seeing there were reputable dentists there, I hopped on a ferry.
Arriving at Krabi’s main port feels like arriving on the most tropical of islands; sweeping sandy beaches play host to mingling long-tail fishing boats as limestone karsts loom in the backdrop.
It’s a half a world away from Phuket.
Ao Nang is an L-shaped coastal strip of a town, and seems built as a jump-off point to the islands and the nearby beaches of Phra Nang of Ton Sai, only accessible by boat.
Whilst it’s a bonafide tourist town, you can clear Ao Nang in a heartbeat on a scooter where it gets beautifully rural in the most fantastical way, with dramatic limestone mountains passing you by as you snake satisfyingly along near-empty, smooth winding roads.
After hearing about it so often on previous trips to SE Asia, I waited for enough people to fill a boat, and strode into waist-deep water with my backpack above my head. I was the only person to get off at Ton Sai beach, or about 15 minutes of rocky paddling to get to where the boat coudln’t. The place has reputation as a rock climbers haven, and whilst there were a couple of climbers, the post-pandemic, out-of-season neighborhood guesthouse and shop (only two businesses were open), seemed completely derelict and frankly depressing, despite the friendly cartoon-like monkeys.
Nearby Phra Nang and it’s sister beach, along with the Thai rasta bars living their post-legalisation best lives, were much more the ‘island life’ I was looking for, at least for a brief overnight stay. The waist-deep water and uncertainty of which, if any boats, would take me and a random assortment of other backpackers back to Ao Nang the next day made for an uncomfortably satisfying sense of a 24-hour adventure.
After the dental work was completed – four and half hours of torture – I had time to push into parts unknown. Over twenty years since Alex Garland’s debut novel The Beach gave me and millions of others a sense of wanderlust to find the perfect slice of tropical bliss undiscovered by the crowds.
After looking at Krabi’s island options, I thought I may have found it.
Koh Yao Noi is seemingly off the radar; there are no full moon parties, tattoo parlours, fire shows or elephant rides. Best of all, that influencer couple drowning out your hard-earned sunset bliss with their shitty tinny little drone.
Like in Pai.
Jesus, I can hear it now.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzz.
zzzz zzzzzz
*influencer man changes batteries*
zzzzzz zzzzzzzz
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
There’s nothing to do for your typical holidaymaker on Kho Ya Noi, therefore barely any tourists bother to come, especially during monsoon season where you’ll regularly find yourself under a hail of rainy machine gun fire in a matter of seconds.
The island is home to a tight-knit muslim community and a plethora of wildlife.
I had only just arrived at my lodgings when a psychotic and formidably-sized macaque descended from the forest above my hilltop bungalow, swaggered onto the table, rose up on it’s hind legs, spread it’s arms like Jude Bellingham after a 90th-minute winner and let out a life-threatening, fang-baring snarl.
After yelling for help, it glanced to see if the staff were coming, then started to root through my bag finding only a bloody, bagged-up wisdom tooth. It left disappointed and left me nearly as traumatised than my time at the dentist.
The toucan-like birds, Black Hornbills gossiped on branches close to my bungalow and the token bathroom gecko – you know the one – kept me company at night, singing me to sleep with it’s gecko noises to the rhythm of waves slowly washing ashore on the beach below. Ya Noi is also home to the true mascot of southeast Asia, the water buffalo, found dozing in the breathtaking central ricefields of the island.
The town centre is a delightfully simple strip selling fresh fish, fuel from barrels, and offers a few family restaurants. Here I caught glimpses of a few other tourists on the island. Veering off the main roads leads to jolty, narrow paths that pass through tree sap farms – the island’s main hustle – and impossibly perfect sunset views.
A dramatic, rain-soaked football tournament took centre stage whilst I was there. Although the players were young, the atmosphere was electric, with a huge turnout of supporters cheering them on, trophies on the line, and the live best sports commentator I’ve ever heard.
Even in a country like Thailand, it’s still easy enough to veer off the well-signposted routes to find a small slice of utopia. So long as you’re satisfied with a less sensationalised and well-catered-to version of where you are.
The Secret Map 