Bungalow, breakfast buffet included, complimentary bottled water
Koh Lipe, part of the Tarutao National Marine park and as far south as you can get without becoming Malaysia, is one of the most beautiful islands on the planet. It's small - one can walk it in a day via sandy paths that criss cross between beaches and headlands. It's also discovered - there are lots of resorts on all levels, as well as bars and restaurants and shops. Our place was medium on the price and amentity scale, and down at the end, but it was large with little alpine-styled chalet bungalows lined on "streets" cheek by jowl, and it catered to grouops, so it's wasn't all that quiet. Again no mosquito net - glad we brought our own, even though ity's a challenge to figure out how to set it up - this time we attqached it to the curtain rail - which was fine when the curtains were closed.
The sand on Koh lipe is powder fine and white - it's like walking on bread-flour - and the water is toothgel green. We were on the largest beach, where most of the action took place - great at night when we could pick and choose where to eat - great in the morning too as we went for a pre-breakfast jog and could pace the length of the beach - about 1km each direction.
After our run we'd eat a leisurely breakfast and watch all the action of boats going out and boats coming in. Speedboats, which act as ferries, stay out in the bay as the beach is so shallow. You must walk out into the water to put yourself and your luggage into a long-tailed boat which then takes you out to the ferry, so there's lots too-ing and fro-ing for the half hour or so before each trip. There are also day trips - the place is a snorkelling, diving and fishing centre. 
Then we'd prepare for our day on the beach and would set off across the island, stopping for a latte or espresso (the resort had lousy coffee) on the way. We'd pick a beach and set up on mats and hammocks, set to read and swim and lounge until the setting sun called us home - washing the salt off and putting on proper clothes. 
The food is a little spicier in the south and we'd need a mango lassi or Chang beer to cool our throats. We'd watch the stars come out and commune with a few of the hundreds of soulful cats and dogs that haunt the island and that hover around tables hoping for handouts but having to settle for a little bit of loving from us instead (petting only the un-mangey ones).
The food is a little spicier in the south and we'd need a mango lassi or Chang beer to cool our throats. We'd watch the stars come out and commune with a few of the hundreds of soulful cats and dogs that haunt the island and that hover around tables hoping for handouts but having to settle for a little bit of loving from us instead (petting only the un-mangey ones).
Every night we'd pass the same small boy who'd be on the beach practicing his fire dancing - twirling a long baton lit at both ends. He was pretty good, able to twirl behind his back and under his legs, but his only audience was two or three similarly aged friends and the odd dog - and us. He deserved more.
It was at the end of a quiet beach at the south end of the island, with three other resorts (more "rustic" than ours) with their own restauranta and bars, as well as another bar at the far end. We ate in all over the course of our 4 nights there, watching the sunset from a slightly different angle due to each location on the beach. Soft, beige sand full of tiny, translucent crabs that scittered into their holes as our feet fell. A few rocks at low tide. Warm, clear water. Tiny fish that swarmed our ankles and arms as we waded and swam.
langoustine thermadore. Our favourite place was the one next door, where we sat at tables on the sand lit with candles in old plastic water bottles and ate tom yam soup and pad thai and prawns the size of cats.
