It was the stoner sea gypseas that brought us to Koh Jum. Our old school network of friendly locals summoned them to the pier, a slight haze of smoke drifting behind the boat.We knew that the price was too much, but we didnt really care. Bob Marly shirts and dark shades, they sipped reefer discreetly from the back of the boat, as they navigated us between islands.I offered them a cold beer but they refused on moral grounds saying that hey only smoke, I found it an interesting contrast to the western value system.
Koh Jum was picked in our desperation for remoteness, a random look at a map and some good words from the motel owner. No one really goes there and that was enough. He should have qualified what he said, no one without money goes there. It is home to preposterous private bungalows for the rich.
The captain of the boat had a chuckle when I told him our budget, landing us on the beach in front of ” The pearl”. “This place is for you,” he said, to our right movie star girls bath in expensive looking suits. We went left.
The pearl was run by Ricks family, who are nothing short of delightful. It was only random that we landed at his place, a long string of conversations with people trying to suggest a good time, as opposed to make a profit. Our room cost us 5$ AUS a night and the food not much more. A shack of wood, nothing to do and piles of food, this is how I spent my 26th birthday.
Trust the sea gypsies.