We are told that the furthest reaches from civilisation are untouched and pristine. That days are spent under blue skies and swaying palm trees. That gentle waves lap the shore hypnotically. That birds sing to the rising sun and owls whoop to the rising moon. This is the idyllic tropical setting of our dreams. This is the last frontier. This is the Mergui Archipelago.
By the time we reach the stilted villages along the coastline, we wonder what lies ahead with a sense of foreboding. The stench of decaying seafood is almost unbearable. It is the end of April and an unforgiving westerly monsoon has washed ashore. The only vessel available to take us across to the island is an old longtail boat. The tide is dry and the captain has to wait. After hours pass, the tide is finally in
