Ko Chang, Thailand

It's 7am now, and it's been pissing rain in paradise all night long. The several items I left out to dry on my bungalow porch last night, are anything but. Despite grey skies, the view is outstanding. Concrete and plank wooden paths weave through a quaint green garden in front of me and into the distance. White bungalows dot the gently curving hillside. Local people go about their morning business, sweeping porches, stacking laundry, and gathering supplies for their days work. Sturdy palm trees stretch up to the sky, top heavy with young coconuts. Somewhere off the distance I can hear the ocean, the crashing waves fighting the songs of insects for my ears attention.

A small colorful bird perches itself atop a wicker chair on the porch of the neighboring bungalow, pausing to belt out a morning reveille that defies it's tiny frame. Like the first shot in a war, this shatters the peace, and the roosters begin their morning calls. They won't stop for the next bloody hour.

Ko Chang is Thailand's second biggest island. It contains numerous beaches, a temperate rain forest, and an abundance of tourists. Not an overabundance mind you, but the word is definitely out. And with it's convenient location on the east coast of Thailand, a mere four hours drive from Bangkok, it's no wonder more and more travelers are forgoing southern destinations like Krabi and Phuket for the beaches of Ko Chang.

There have been noticeable changes since I was last here two years ago. Upon arrival at the ferry dock, I was greeted by the grim sight of a full-color billboard advertising condos for sale on the island. I was also surprised to see that the tiny dock where a small shuttle boat had taken us across before had been replaced by a full scale ferry with a bottom level that could accommodate cars.

Once ashore though, the forty-five minute taxi ride revealed that the quiet, island charm I was looking forward to had not been entirely swept away. Sure there were super-sized resort hotels being built, and more scooters zipping down the roads, but they were, for the most part, close to the dock at places like White Sand Beach. The further we drove on the less of these there were. By the time our taxi had reached Lonely Beach, things looked pretty much as they did the day I left two years before. The dirt walkway which snakes through the woods leading from guesthouses out to the main beach has yet to be paved over, or even landscaped. The tattoo parlours, Thai massage stations, and makeshift bars that line the way are still as ragged as ever. Dirt cheap accommodations are still on hand for shoestring travelers. In short, there's still a place for backpackers in the new Ko Chang.

The beach here is small, but it's easy find yourself a private patch of sand and while away the hours with a good book, the ocean stretched out in front you. The water is warm, the faces are friendly, and the seafood on the barbecue is fresh. Amanda and I spent several days in a row here, snorkeling, kayaking to nearby islands, lounging around, and generally being lazy. Recooperating from the nightmare of the daily grind back home.

There's no shortage or restaurants and bars here, but by far the most popular is the Treehouse. The Treehouse, is a veritable institution here, having been built here back when the name Lonely Beach was more well deserved. The restaurant is basically a giant wooden deck built out over the water. Rickety and old it creaks when you walk across it. There are holes in places. Hammocks are slung between bamboo staffs, and colorful floor mats are spread out below low wooden tables. Geometrically diverse lanterns are hung off gnarled driftwood poles, emitting dim light in varying colors. Soft, tasteful music, helps construct the mood, and build energy as the night unfolds. It's a laid back wonderland, and probably my favorite place on Earth to toss back a drink or two and blow my mind on the surrounding landscape.

After a week, we felt it was probably time to move on, and I woke early this morning to pack my bag and sit on the porch one last time. The storm from the night before will no doubt make the taxi ride back through the steep winding roads of Ko Chang formidable at best. I'm not looking forward to the bus ride ahead of us, or to another night in Bangkok. But at least there I won't have to listen to this damned rooster.