Information travels fast when you’re on the backpacker’s trail. Pick any beach-side watering hole and sit down; within seconds you’ll be able to overhear conversations shooting in every direction. “I heard of this place …This guy from Denmark was telling me … I just got back from …”

It doesn’t take long for you to learn which places are hot and which places have been conquered by the masses. Roaming the beaches of Southern Thailand is like an adventure in discovery. And more times than not, this premise holds true: the harder it is to get to an island, or find a specific beach, the more worthwhile it is to go there.

For me, the journey counts far more than the destination. In many ways this holds true in life as it does travel. Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy. And despite all the bumpy roads I have experienced along the way, I will never shy away from the next great challenge. It’s often been my experience to bypass the more familiar locations on the map in search of an undiscovered (at least by the masses) location. This is a difficult task and means abandoning your guidebook. After all, the true purpose of a guidebook is to provide you with a general outline, not a full itinerary.

It was only after I set aside my trusty Lonely Planet and Rough Guides travel books did I start to find the hidden gems of Thailand. For me it's all about learning about a place, and in turn, learning about yourself. And when you get off the beaten track, that's where you find out what there is to find out.

I took some great photos on Koh Phi Phi, ate good meals, and watched a few bootleg DVD’s in a variety of sidewalk cafes. The constant movement of bodies from one beach to the other, combined with the wall-to-wall bungalow operations made it easy to leave. For a short-term holiday, Phi Phi will give you a good blend of “quiet beaches” and “frat party mentality.” I was seeking something more visceral; off the beaten path and outside the reaches of Khao San Road’s travel agents.

I heard of this sleepy little island called Koh Lanta, in the south Andaman Sea, home to a clan of Chao Ley, or "Sea Gypsies,” and long white-sand beaches. Some travelers I talked to over the months had raved about the island; locals said tourism on the island was less than half of what it was a year ago. I immediately booked my ticket on the next ferry boat to Koh Lanta Yai.

On the boat I was greeted by a small group of touts offering everything from 150 Baht a night fan bungalows to 4-star resorts. The young Thai teenager named Jim sold me not only with his amazing ability to speak English, but his promise of a air-con bungalow on the beach with hot shower for only 350 Baht a night. I chatted with an Australian girl for most of the 2 hour journey; she was finishing up 6 months of solo-travel – meeting up with her family and boyfriend when the boat landed.

  

It’s an overwhelming experience arriving at Saladan Pier on Koh Lanta. At some points it seems like the entire island is there to welcome you (and offer you a place to stay). Nearly every bungalow operation on the island sends a pickup truck to transport guests to their beach. They arrive early to get the prime spots, hoping to fill up the truck bed with the most people possible.

We played the Thai game of “One More” for about an hour before our truck was finally deemed full. We departed for Merry Beach Resort on Khlong dao Beach, on the northern tip of the island. We managed to squeeze nine bodies in the back of the truck: 4 Swedes, 2 Germans, 2 Dutch and I, the sole American. Fortunately for me American arrogance and utter unwillingness to learn foreign languages has created a situation where nearly every traveler speaks fairly good English.

Merry Beach Resort was only a short drive from the main pier, but you would hardly realize it. Koh Lanta established a set of building codes on the island that forbid the development of buildings that rise above the coconut tree line. Because of this, development on the island has maintained a very natural state. Most accommodations are made from natural materials such as thatch and bamboo. The further you travel from the main town the more rustic each bungalow operation seems. Merry Beach was no exception.

Merry Beach Resort had about 20 bungalows spread across a very nice lot, a few hundred meters from the beach (ok, so "on the beach" wasn’t exactly true). The air-con room I was promised? There were 3 of them … all booked up. The brochure also promised rooms with telephone, television and hot shower? Not available.

“Maybe tomorrow,” they said.

Who was I to complain? This place was fantastic; even without the amenities promised by the silver-tongued salesman on the boat. Several of the other people decided to take a look at the rooms. We lost a group of 3 Swedes who were apparently looking for something a little cheaper.

Cheaper? This place was 250 Baht a night. I didn’t even need to look at the room. I figured I could always move to a different bungalow the following day if necessary. Rolland, from Stockholm, Stefe and Daniella, from Munich all agreed. We sat down in the thatch roof restaurant and ordered up a few beers and Pad Thai for a snack.

We talked for a few hours, almost always in English. I learned that Stefe and Daniella had just finished a two week project in Phuket castrating beach dogs and Rolland was on a 10 day holiday that took him from Phuket to Koh Lanta (eventually back to Phuket for a little more “activity”). We eventually went our own ways, only to meet up 10 minutes later on the beach, where after 2 minutes in the water it began to rain – the tropical rain you would imagine would happen on such a tropical island.

When the rain cleared we showered up and decided to meet up later in the evening for drinks and a meal at one of the many beach-side restaurants.