Coming from the ciaos of Bangkok, landing on Koh Samui is landing in paradise. The airport is right off a postcard. The arrival terminal consisted of a thatched roofed arbor and free pineapple juice was provided. I found my way to a hotel on the beach with two girls from Lebenon.

The struggle with industrialisation is present almost everywhere. The brutal realities of poverty glared through my fake Ray-ban sunglasses as I walked the stunning, dream-like beaches.

My first night, I started to wander down the main strip. I passed to 2 Baskin Robins, a Starbucks and a Mc Donalds. I thought so much for authenticity. Before the night was over I found myself at the Ko Samui Cabaret with a bunch of Brits whose internal group politics gave me headache, but that's another story. The Cabaret was excellent. Eventually we found our way to the Reggae bar...where they didn't play any reggae. Around 4 am we decided it was time for snacks. We found a shanty that was still serving. Some Swedes and a couple of Israelis rounded our vociferous and drunken group. We roared on till dawn. I finally hoped on the back of a motorcycle taxi unsure if I would ever be seen again. Of course the voice of paranoia turned about to be wrong as usual.

I rented a moped for $3 for whole day to take a small tour of the island. I discovered Ko Samui is home to the spiritually and culturally wacky.

At Wat Khunaram is this man, Luang Phaw Daeng. He has been dead two decades. He is mummified in a meditation position sporting sunglasses... not, to my knowledge, a common Buddhist practice.

The legend says that a husband and wife died on shores here on their way to meet the parents of their son's potential bride. To illustrate the honorable intentions of their family to the girl's family, they posthumously turned themselves into these stones.