THAILAND’S Kool Ko

Our family has been coming here since 1991, and the charm of the island always begins at the airport. Two runways are lined with bougainvillea. Baggage is handled beneath a thatched roof without walls. Nose-ringed Gen-X-ers wait for backpacks near Asia-based Western executives whose matched luggage will soon be whisked into vans and carried to deluxe resorts. Our family of four stands between them, pasty-faced, jet-lagged and delighted to be back on gorgeous Ko Samui in the Gulf of Thailand.

We’re soon on our way to our hotel on the island’s quiet northeast corner. Samui is the kingdom’s third largest island (ko in Thai), 400 miles and an easy 1 1/2-hour flight south of Bangkok. Until the airport opened in 1989, the only way to get here from Bangkok was by eight-hour train ride to Surat Thani on the mainland, then another five hours by ferry to Ko Samui.

The island was once a whisper on the lips of hippie backpackers, and the whisper was this: What a fine, cheap place to lie on palm-edged beaches, swim in warm, clear waters with coral reefs, soak up the good vibes and eat great Thai food. It may not be the place to find high Asian culture, but it was just the place to kick back after a trekking in Nepal or Chiang Mai.

Samui’s fans don’t whisper anymore: It’s possible to spend as much as $300 per night at one of the newer resorts. But there are still plenty of inexpensive hotels, and the island’s interior mountains remain green and rugged, covered with coconut palms that are the island’s primary cash crop. The beach sand is unusually white and powdery, and the vibes are still good, if a bit less laid back than before. On Ko Samui, there’s now something for every kind of travel style and budget.

From the airport, a 10-minute drive on the island’s paved coastal road takes us past the village of Bophut and the Big Buddha, a 40-foot-high, gold-leaf statue occupying a spit of land reaching out into the turquoise sea. Then it’s on to Choeng Mon Beach and the Imperial Boat House, which has unique luxury accommodations: 34 individual teak rice barges that were floated down the Gulf of Thailand from Bangkok, then hauled up on land where they sit like beached whales just beyond the hotel pool. Upstairs on each converted barge is an outdoor deck/patio, plus a sitting room and bar. A staircase spirals down to a master bedroom: teak walls, teak floor, a fishing net on the ceiling, a large bathroom with tub, and a dressing room in which a futon couch makes into an extra bed. Although our boat suite isn’t as sparkling new as it was six years ago, and our children, Ethan, 14, and Seneca, 10, complain a bit about having to share a bed, we wouldn’t consider staying anywhere else.

In no time we’re outside, and on a short walk from Choeng Mon Beach on a picturesque, protected cove. It takes about 15 minutes to walk from one end of the beach to the other, and most days there are gentle waves appropriate for small children, and windsurfing. There are half a dozen restaurants on the beach, inexpensive bungalows for rent and a few vendors hawking T-shirts, sarongs, traditional Thai massages ($6 an hour!) and hair-braiding services for which the kids are soon clamoring. Several hundred yards offshore, there’s a small uninhabited island we’ve walked to at low tide. On the horizon floats the rocky face of Ko Pha Ngan, one of two satellite islands that young hipsters often head to for full moon bacchanals.

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But on this particular afternoon last December, the waves are anything but gentle. Ethan, Seneca and I are soon bodysurfing. The water’s warm, the sky’s a bit overcast, and there’s a stiff onshore breeze, which brings me to a quick word about when to visit Ko Samui. According to hoteliers, rainy season, which can mean anything from an hour’s gentle shower each afternoon to a four-day blow, runs from October to mid-December.

Even if the rains have stopped by Christmas, if you’re drawn to Samui by the fine scuba diving found off nearby Ko Tao, it’s important to remember that visibility, said to reach 70 feet in April and again in September, is pretty minimal until late January.

But enough of these cautions. Even when a light rain begins to fall, the kids and I plunge into the waves again and again, laughing and shouting, “There’s no place like Samui.”

In the mornings, we happily follow a pattern repeated on each of our 10 days on the island. We stroll up the beach from the Boat House (where the breakfast is a fairly standard buffet) to the simple, clean and very delicious Choeng Mon Restaurant.

We begin with plates of tropical fruit, then Seneca orders khao tom gai (chicken rice soup), a Thai comfort food that she learned to love on our last trip to Thailand that she will order at every meal of this trip. Ethan orders pad thai (Thai noodles), which he will order for every meal but three. Susan and I order Thai-style pancakes (more like a crepe, ordered either plain or stuffed with banana or pineapple). I follow this with squid and fried rice. And no matter how ambitiously we work our way through the extensive menu for breakfast, lunch or dinner, we never manage to spend more than $18 for four.

After several days of serious relaxing--daily massages for me and full sets of pastel bead-capped cornrow braids for the kids (leaving them thinking they are way too cool to hang around with their parental units), we’re ready to explore the island and check out the inevitable bittersweet changes that have occurred since our last visit three years earlier.

We rent a four-wheel drive Suzuki for a few days (depending on your bargaining skills and where you rent--hotel agencies are the most expensive--it will cost about $35 a day, including insurance.) We drive south down the east coast toward Samui’s two most developed beaches, Chaweng and Lamai.

Chaweng has boomed since we were last here. The narrow main street is rutted and thronged with traffic. There’s a strip of open-air bars, which at night will fill with mostly European men and Thai bar girls. (The gender of some of the bar girls can be a bit tricky to gauge.) There are several discos, which don’t really get going until midnight, then loudly rock until dawn. There are numerous seafood restaurants that display fresh catch: king and tiger prawns, squid, crabs on beds of crushed ice, all for sale by weight and prepared any way you want.

In the afternoons at Chaweng’s main street bistros, several of which serve cappuccino and hand-tossed pizza, it’s clear that many of the patrons have just awakened from a night of partying. Although it’s nowhere near as developed or as crowded (give it another five years), there’s a bit of the feel here of Bali’s Kuta Beach, another hip Southeast Asian party spot. Indeed, Poppies, one of Kuta’s best-known hotels, has a sister property on Chaweng. Poppies’ bungalows and its restaurant are expensive and elegant. So are the patrons.

But it’s difficult to be elegant while trailing two kids, so instead of stopping at Poppies, we head for Chaweng’s main beach. It’s easy to see why Chaweng was the first area to be developed on the island. Its broad 4 1/2-mile-long curved beach is perfect for swimming: Imagine a lengthy lagoon lined with dive shops, open-air restaurants and small hotels. In addition to the restaurants, there are strolling food vendors who sell fresh pineapple-on-a-stick (about 60 cents), chicken satay, or chicken breasts grilled on portable braziers with small bags of sticky rice (about $1).

And then there are the para-sailing rides: $20 for 15 minutes. But though my wife and I cried, “No, no and no!”, Ethan had saved all fall for this trip. “It will be a life-memorable experience,” he argues, and we relent.

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The next thing I know, I’m in the towboat. Ethan has strapped on the parachute harness and stands at the top of the beach on dry sand. The enormous engine roars. Ethan runs toward the water. Then he’s aloft, 20, 50 feet up, the bright chute furled against the blue sky. We speed away, parallel to the beach, and the boat captain slows and nearly stops several times, allowing Ethan to float down until his feet just kiss the water. Then the captain revs the engine and we shoot off again, my son rising like a kite.

Our next stop is Lamai Beach, and its highlights should provide insight into the sensual nature of Ko Samui. At numerous places along the island’s coast, there are rocky outcroppings, huge boulders carved by wind and rain that were tossed out millenniums ago by volcanoes. In some ways, it’s reminiscent of Jumbo Rocks at Joshua Tree National Park. Perhaps the most photographed rocks--hotel tours regularly stop here--conjure up naughty thoughts and are known as Grandfather and Grandmother. Grandfather occupies a promontory and is 15 feet high. Grandmother is about 25 yards away, a huge clefted stone into which the sea flows. Within a five-minute drive of Grandfather and Grandmother is The Spa, a health hotel run by American expatriate Guy Hopkins, who for many years was in the garment business in Bangkok. He’s been on Upper Lamai (he calls his stretch of sand Longevity Beach) for five years, and operates the hotel with his Thai wife, Toi. Accommodations are in simple bungalows, none more than $20 a night. Mountain bike and guide services into the mountains above Lamai Valley can be booked at The Spa, but what draws most visitors is a fasting-cleansing program known throughout hip circles in Southeast Asia.

We introduce ourselves, and Guy shows us around. He’s dark-haired and thin, and looks to be about 60. Many of the guests, sitting around in sarongs or light, flowing trousers and tops, are also thin. Guy explains his clientele are mostly Western expatriates from all around Asia, and many are repeat customers.

The next day, we find our way to Baan Taling Ngam, a luxury resort on the mostly undeveloped southwest corner of the island. Managed for its first three years by Asia’s famed Mandarin Oriental group, and now by the French Meridien hotels, Baan Taling Ngam is one of a growing number of petite, deluxe resorts in Southeast Asia. The resort occupies a series of bluffs overlooking an isolated coast. The sunset views are remarkable and the accommodations are the sort that attract honeymooning couples and CEO’s with unlimited budgets. Two restaurants, one up high, one near the pool, serve exquisite Thai cuisine and seafood. We splurged on the seafood banquet, about $45.

On Baan Taling Ngam’s beach there are no strolling T-shirt vendors, no pineapples-on-a-stick. Although it’s a beautiful picture--palms arching over a private beach--it could be almost any tropical beach in the world.

Me, I prefer to be aware I’m on Samui. And the next day we get this dose of local color when we look up our old friend and guide Somnek Somsuk, who operates out of an eclectic shop called Books and Beer in the north coast village of Mae Nam.

With Somnek driving, we travel by four-wheel drive up, up and up some more until we stop 1,000 feet above the coast, overlooking Mae Nam and Bophut. Below is a curve of white sand, turquoise water, the black shadow of a reef and the deluxe Santiburi Dusit Resort, built by the family that owns Singha Beer, Thailand’s best-known brew. And there’s the Big Buddha, gold and glistening in the sun.

Later, we’ll continue to Somnek’s mountaintop durian plantation.

But just for moment, we stand there looking at the astonishing vista. Each time I return to Samui, Somnek takes me up to see it. And each time there are a few more buildings below. “Suai maak,” I say, showing off my Thai. Very beautiful. And it is.

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GUIDEBOOK: Samui the Serene

Getting there: There is no nonstop service from LAX to Bangkok, but Thai Airways has direct service with one stop (no change of planes). JAL, Northwest, China Air, Korean Air and Cathay Pacific offer connecting flights. Round-trip fares begin at about $1,210, including tax. There are frequent short flights to Ko Samui from Bangkok on Bangkok Airways. Round-trip tickets from Bangkok to Samui are about $175.

Where to stay (Note: Prices are for high season, January to March, and July and August. Other times, prices drop 20% to 40%. Rates were computed at 25 baht to the dollar before the recent devaluation of the baht.)

Baan Ngam Taling, on Ko Samui’s southeast side; telephone (800) 543-4300, 011-66-77-423-019; deluxe rooms, $220 double occupancy. Isolated, beautiful, elegant, but not the place to bring kids.

Imperial Boat House, on Choeng Mon Beach on the quiet north east coast; tel. (800) 950-5864 or 011-66-77-425-041; $200 per double aboard teak boats made into suites; $140 for a single room in main building (all prices include breakfast, windsurfing privileges).

The Lodge, on Bophut Beach; tel. 011-66-77-425-337, fax 011-66-77-425-336; $30 to $40 per double room. Twelve tasteful rooms overlooking the water, near restaurants, speedboats to offshore Ko Phan Ngan and Ko Tao islands.

The Spa, Lamai Beach; tel. 011-66-77-230-855, fax 011-66-77-424-126. Simple bungalows for $14 to $20 double occupancy per bungalow; a fasting program, massage and herbal steam are available.

The White House, Choeng Mon Beach; tel. 011-66-77-245-315 fax 011-66-77-245 318-425; $110 to $135 double occupancy, including buffet breakfast. This new, elegant, privately owned hotel is known for its calm.

Where to eat: Choeng Mon Restaurant, on Choeng Mon Beach, has delicious food at reasonable prices, friendly service; dinner for two, $10 to $20. Sea Fan Beach Resort, Mae Nam Beach, has a great setting, delicious tropical drinks and whole fish entrees; about $40 for two. Royal Thai Cuisine has the best looking spread of fresh seafood on Chaweng’s main street. Everything priced by weight; averages about $30 for two.

For more information: Tourism Authority of Thailand, 3440 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 1100, Los Angeles, CA 90010; (213) 382-2353, fax (213) 389-7544.

--E.G.