Near "Naked Man" Beach

So our boat pulls up to the pier at the northern end of Ko Lanta and we teeter off onto the dock and are immediately mobbed by, oh, let's say 400 of the islands inhabitants. They all want us to stay at their brother's or mother's or cousin's resort. We are whelmed. They can sense by our blank looks that we're easy marks and hound us for a while until they realize that our blank looks aren't giving way to anything. We just stare off into oblivion, dazed.

When the crowd disperses there's just one man left, the mild-mannered Mr. Shippy.

Mr. Shippy tells us he can take us to a very nice beach and find us a very nice bungalow and we believe him because maybe he hypnotized us, I don't really know, but we load into the back of his truck and he takes us out to a quiet beach.

Standing in front of his truck Mr. Shippy tosses 10 or 12 pills into his mouth and says something about a stomach problem. He looks blissed. We walk up the beach with our backpacks on our backs and we find this place:




So we say "this looks good" and we check in.