THE Atkins diet is very bad for your health. I found this out the hard way. I was sitting down to breakfast at a restaurant on a beach in Thailand, having my usual ham and eggs and cut meats - no toast or cereals for me, thank you very much - when I noticed that my table had become surrounded by a collection of stray cats. As I looked around at the other diners, who were having just coffee and croissants, I realised that the rest of the tables seemed to be cat-free zones. The smell of cooked meats was drawing the little creatures directly to my table and they were still coming hard and fast. Suddenly, one dropped from the roof rafters above my head directly on to my plate. In an effort to push it off, I hit my coffee cup and knocked it all over my bare legs. Scalded by the hot liquid, I jumped up from my seat, accidentally pulling the table cloth with me, along with the entire breakfast and a few miscellaneous felines. Standing there, humiliated, with coffee burns and a plate load of eggs and bacon all over my T-shirt and shorts, I decided that it was time to give up the Atkins diet and resume a less dangerous lifestyle.
I had arrived on the tiny island of Ko Phi Phi Don in the Andaman Sea, off the southern coast of Thailand, following the trail of Leonardo di Caprio in the movie The Beach, made a few years ago. The film is an adaptation of the Alex Garland novel and it tells the tale of a young backpacker (played by Di Caprio) who travels south from Bangkok in search of a beach that he has seen in a dream. It is a rite of passage story in which the central character learns one important lesson: that if there is a paradise to be found on earth, it will inevitably be destroyed by the presence of mankind.
With an uninspiring, two-dimensional performance from Di Caprio, it is the island of Phi Phi itself, where the film was shot, that is the true star of the movie. Its natural charisma reached out effortlessly from the screen and enticed a whole generation of young backpackers to visit the island, on what was a voyage akin to a pilgrimage. And walking along the sandy paths that wind from one side of the island to the other, it is nothing short of astonishing how many Leonardo doubles you meet. Everyone is so young and fresh-looking that it could make someone in their early 30s feel exceptionally old (I did); and a person in their early 40s positively Neolithic (I can only imagine). The island of Ko Phi Phi Don and its tiny uninhabited neighbour Ko Phi Phi Leh have all the ingredients required of paradise. Surrounded by an immaculate azure sea, they are bathed in tropical sun all year round, and while palm trees sway in the gentle breeze, the beaches look like they were made by the gods from white gold. Ko Phi Phi Don, where all the activity takes place, can only be approached by a ferry which runs four times daily from the Krabi coast and six times daily from the popular tourist island of Phuket. Although development has been kept to a minimum (there are no roads, cars, or indeed any buildings over one storey), there is the feeling that the island is beginning to capitalise on its new-found fame.
During peak season (October to April) it can be very overcrowded, making sleeping quarters hard to find and accommodation expensive - at least, compared to the rest of Thailand. I stayed at Charlie's Beach Bungalows, paying about US$30 a night, and found them extremely comfortable. I became a dab hand at assassinating any mosquitoes that were foolish enough to try to spend the night with me. Thankfully, my room had an efficient air conditioning system which made the hot nights bearable, without taking away from that Robinson Crusoe feeling of living in a hut on the beach. The most effective and popular form of transport on the island is the long-tail boats, which are operated by locals known as the sea gypsies. You can hop on and off the gondola-type boats like a taxi - taking you either to a secluded beach or perhaps out into the bay to try some snorkelling. Visibility under the crystal- clear waters is next to perfect and it is possible to see white-tip sharks, stingrays and moray eels. In fact, the reefs surrounding these islands make them some of the most rewarding diving waters in the whole of Thailand. As you travel along the coastline, you can see the nests of the sea swift, precariously balanced high up in caves connected by an intricate and rickety labyrinth of bamboo ladders.
Prized for its aphrodisiac qualities, bird's nest soup is a delicacy in Taiwan, Singapore and Hong Kong. Huge sums of money change hands for these small pieces of twigs held together by bird spit, so they are one of the most important sources of income for the islanders. A visit to Leonardo's beach is a must. It can only be approached by boat and you may even find yourself being charged a small fee to set foot on to those hallowed sands - another example of Phi Phi's rising commercialism. Late one afternoon, I took some local advice and climbed the steep steps to the popular viewpoint overlooking the bay of Ao Loh Dalum. At the top, people were facing the setting sun in an almost religious reverence. Time seemed to stand still as the light gradually faded and the day came to an end. I aimed my camera bravely into the reddening glow to try to freeze the moment for posterity - but my digital image was a pale imitation of the real thing. So I clicked delete on my camera and decided instead to let my glimpse of paradise fly away on the wings of imagination.