Thailand – Island Holiday
Only a handful of tourists visit tiny Koh Bulon, where families can stay for £33 a night
The nail-shaped beach is sprinkled with Bugaboo pushchairs, hoods shimmering in the heat. Tanned Scandinavian families frolic in the aquamarine sea, while other parents feed their children at the beachside restaurant. My children splash about in the water. This is parents’ paradise and, best of all, it seems that we are the only Brits for miles.
Koh Bulon Leh is an island that the Scandinavians keep secret. The same people return again and again, drawn back by the peace, seclusion and price — family bungalows cost only £33 a night. It’s not easy to get to, but that’s part of its appeal. It takes my family several stressful days of planes, buses and speedboats, but when we’re all deposited, at last, on the white, soft sand, the air limpid and sparkling, my husband and I laugh with joy. This is a mirage, we keep telling each other. This is too perfect.
Koh Bulon is a couple of square (car-free) kilometres in all and only a small section of the paths that criss-cross the island are paved. You can see it all in about an hour. There is one internet café, a couple of small shops — and no ATM.
The resorts, which are still mainly owned by locals, are not remotely fancy: no infinity pools, no room service, no TV. In fact, our wooden bungalow at Bulone Resort, though right on the beach, is pretty uncomfortable. The beds are hard and the mosquito net does not do its job. Every morning my son, Dash, and I wake up with new itches.
But what the island gives us is a freedom worth any number of fluffy towels. Even Edith, 2, who at the start hates the heat and friendliness of Thailand, enjoys being naked and stomping up and down the beach. And we never have to worry about our kids annoying other residents, because they’re all like us, only fitter and more tanned. In fact, there is a chumminess to the evenings that more upmarket resorts never have. While the kids run in a pack on the beach digging out hermit crabs, we drink Chang beer and chat to each other. There’s no need to yell at the kids to stay in their seats.
The only downside is that everyone disappears to their bungalows at 9pm to put their kids to bed. There is one bar, but it’s a hike up the hill and is too far for us to get to with kids sleeping back at the bungalow. Still, there are worse ways to finish a day than watching the moonlight shimmering on the sea and listening to the lap and lick of waves on the beach.
After a few days of lolling on the velvety sand, trying — and failing — to build sandcastles, we go on a snorkelling trip with another family with kids aged about the same as our own. There are no travel shops or tour guides — the resort simply asks a local fisherman to take us out in his longtail boat for the morning and puts our share of the cost on our bill.
We stop at White Rock, a tiny island that sticks out of the water like a thumb, encircled by terns. The adults take it in turns to peer under the surface at the fringed angelfish and brightly coloured parrotfish grazing on the coral while the kids take it in turns to fling things over the side.
When we are about to set off home, we notice the bulging clouds that have formed on the horizon. The next day rain, great wallops of it, tips down on our porch and splashes out indents in the sand. The beach is deserted; the restaurant, too, its view of the sea cut off by plastic wind sheets. What makes Koh Bulon Leh so great in the sun — the peace, the remoteness — makes it difficult when it rains, especially with kids. We seem to be stuck in our tiny bungalow for two days. In desperation we set off for a walk. The middle of the island also has bungalows, but the outing still feels like an adventure.
We make our way through villagers’ backyards to a ramshackle village on the shores of Mango Bay. Most of the residents are squid fishermen; their nets are spread on the beach and their longtails fan out in the water, flags flying from their prows. We dawdle across the beach, trying not to feel like the voyeurs that we are.
But the children are an instant passport to intimacy. One of the villagers brings his toddler to meet us. He speaks a little English, and instead of simply sightseeing, we soon become part of the village, playing with the children, chatting about the Arsenal football team.
On our way home we eat great rounds of barbecued king mackerel and mountains of papaya salad, and drink bottles of Chang beer, all for less than one main course in a gastropub.
The sun reappears the next day; the kid gang returns to the restaurant and the beach once more bristles with buckets and spades. Even though we have been on Koh Bulon for ten days it does not feel like long enough. We shall return, we tell each other, just like everybody else who comes here.
Need to know
Bulone Resort is open from November 1 to April 30. Family bungalows cost about £33 a night for up to four people (bulone-resort.net). A longtail boat costs about £30 for four hours.
EVA airways (www.evaair.com) flies direct to Bangkok from £794.
Nok Air (nokair.com) flies from Bangkok to Trang from £50.
Satun Pakbara Speed Boat Club (tarutaolipeisland.com) operates daily services from Pakbara to Koh Bulon for about £8 one-way, plus £1 longtail transfer from boat to island.
This article was first published in The Times