Andaman Coast, Thailand

Heading off in search of paradise - and wondering whether we will find it on the Andaman Coast.
Leaving noisy, polluted, but exciting and atmospheric Bangkok behind and flying south to Krabi - travel centre and jumping-off point for the intoxicating islands that sit like jewels in jade-coloured seas off Thailand's south-west coast.
Our destination will include Kho Phi-Phi Don and its sister isle Koh Phi-Phi Leh - location for the film version of Alex Garland's best-selling book The Beach starring Leonardo DiCaprio. Then it will be on to laidback Koh Lanta and lively Phuket.
Paradise lost, or paradise found? We are not sure what to expect - powder-white beaches devoid of human footprints, dramatic sheer limestone karst cliffs and jagged jungle-clad pinnacles towering out of the sea, quiet nights star-gazing on sandy coves. Or will we encounter sleazy girlie bars and strip joints, rowdy late-night beach parties, fast food and neon lights.
Maybe we will find a little of each - The Good, The Bad and The Ugly - on our next adventure in this mysterious and magical country.

Koh Phi-Phi Don
We touch down at Krabi airport. Not sure whether to stay in the town overnight, or make for its ferry terminal. Haul our bags - two heavy suitcases and two rucksacks - onto a rickety old bus. Drops us at pier and we decide to catch boat to Koh Phi-Phi Don after booking accommodation at what appears to be reputable tourist info centre.
It's early afternoon and we find a spot to sit on the top deck. Boat quite quiet - groups of backpackers and fellow travellers on board, but plenty of room to stretch out and enjoy idyllic sunny abd breezy journey with those craggy karst islands dotting the distant horizon.
Nothing, however, quite prepares us for our first view of KPPD.
Despite the high density of visitors here, the approach by boat to this archipelago takes the breath away. Huge cliffs topped by verdant green jungle tower to one side of us as our ferry cuts its way through crystal-clear waters to the harbour at bustling Tonsai Village.
Now for the tricky bit - transferring our luggage onto a tiny longboat to get us to our accommodation at Runtee Bay, which entails wading out knee-deep into the sea and humping our heavy bags up and over into the boat - and then clambering into it ourselves.
There are no roads on the island - and the only form of travel to some of the more remote spots is by boat, so anchors aweigh. Runtee here we come.
Looks the real deal as we approach - thatched bungalows on a squeaky clean stretch of sand, but we are in for a rude awakening.
Our accommodation turns out be a joke. But the joke is on us and we are not laughing. Our 'beach' bunglaow is tucked away at the back of the resort and, to our horror, only half-finished. The bathroom is just a concrete wasteland, the washbasin is nearly falling off and the shower is stone cold. The bed is rock hard, with what looks like a towel to serve as a wrap. It's the scene outside, however, which really has us gasping. It resembles a building site, with masonry and rubble everywhere. Not a pretty sight.
We reckon we have been tucked up a kipper at Krabi, but we have only ourselves to blame for being so naive and not checking out the place first. We have paid a decent sum of money up front for a sub-standard room to some touts passing as travel agents. We have learned a valuable lesson the hard way - ask to see the accommodation before booking it. (And we thought we had left the con merchants behind in Bangkok. That'll teach us to be so trusting).
Feeling down (let down as well) but not completely out, we try to look for positives - and, in fairness, they come in spadefulls.
Hungry and tired we repair to a beachside cafe and, following delicious pancakes with honey, Chinese tea for Chris and Chang beer for John the world is starting to look a better place already. A quick gander at our new surrounds reveals a drop-dead gorgeous beach, bathwater warm turquoise-hued sea and coral-fringed reefs brilliant for snorkelling. Another bar and restaurant, with tables and chairs perched actually on the beach, create a much better impression.
On initially seeing our 'cell block' we had considered leaving there and then - there was no way we could get our money back (Krabi was 90 minutes away and the touts would have laughed us out of town anyway).
Amazing then what a pancake, a cup of tea and a beer can do to revive flagging and dispirited souls. Instead of making a hasty beeline for Tonsai Village (we may not have got a boat in the first place) we thought we would tough it out.
The next morning we awoke to another lovely sunny day, the beach was pristine white and the sea looked as inviting as ever. Out front the rubble was still there, but so too was an inquistive wild monkey who had come down from the forest behind us to check out his new neighbours. Spend the day doing a spot of snorkelling - lots of colourful fish, pink and blue coral and some of the most lethal-looking sea urchin spikes we have seen anywhere. Step on one of those and you are going to be in serious pain.
Meet up with and make friends with brother and sister James and Jude who, it turns out, are Welsh. Jude works in Cardiff and James in London and, like ourselves, they have stopped off at Runtee hoping to get in some serious R&R.
Now that we have got over the shock of our temporary abode we are really starting to warm to the place. Lazy days busy doing very little other than swimming, snorkelling and reading and three equally lazy nights drinking a few quiet beers and cocktails at the reggae-influenced One More Bar and eating some excellent fish dishes on the lantern-lit beach restaurant has worked a kind of magic on us.
To our amazement we find that when the time comes to leave we don't actually want to and that we have ended up falling for the place we thought we were going to hate. Strange days.
But move on we must. Have to see The Beach on Koh Phi Phi Leh - and decide on spending a couple of nights in the much busier Tonsai because it's an easier base to get to the iconic isle.
No messing about with tawdry touts this time around. Out comes our trusty Lonely Planet which recommends The White - a small mid-range priced hotel in the heart of the village. Yes, they have one spare double room. A result. It's small, but clean, furnished and finished, the shower is hot and the bed and pillows comfy. Hooray.
Spend the evening wandering around the streets of the village. It's busy, overcrowded even, but everyone is having fun. Tons of little bars, cafes and restaurants are all doing a roaring trade, while street market stalls try to entice you to buy their knick knacks and fancy - and sometimes none too fancy - goods.
KPPD has its fair share of critics. The moaners harp on that there are too many beach bars and clubs - that the place is ruined and overrun by backpackers trying to live the Leonardo dream. We disagree.
This is a place which on Boxing Day, 2004, bore the brunt of one of the worst natural disasters in living memory - the Indian Ocean Tsunami.
The hour-glass shaped land between Loh Dalum Bay and Tonsai itself was the scene of utter devastation as huge walls of water from an apocalyptic seaquake swept thousands of men, women and children - locals and tourists - to their deaths.
To see that this tiny community, whose infastructure lay in ruins only seven years ago, is thriving again is heart-warming.
Churlish detractors point to Paradise Lost. But the Tsunami did that, surely - not today's tourists and travellers. It is the visiting tourist who drives the local economy - helping its people to get back on their feet after the catastrophic events that nearly wiped the island off the map forever.
It was paradise once. It may never be again. Perhaps the Tsunami scars still run too deep and will never totally heal. But the fact that thousands and thousands of people are returning to KPPD ensures that this little tropical gem has a new-found energy and vitality. Just coming here and spending a little baht feels like you are doing something - however small - to help aid the islanders' recovery from the pain and anguish they so heart-breakingly suffered.
Today the place is buzzing again - and that can only be good. Long may it continue.

Koh Phi-Phi Ley
We can't leave here without visiting The Beach. It would be like going to San Francisco and turning a blind eye to the Golden Gate Bridge, visiting New York and not clapping eyes on the Statue of Liberty, or heading out to the great US south-west wilderness and giving the Grand Canyon the cold shoulder.
It's a must-do, crowds or no crowds, hype or no hype - and we are going come what may. Shame Leonardo won't be there to greet us, though.
After a bit of bartering with a longboat man he agrees to take us to the island and drop us on The Beach and return us safe and sound after three hours.
Deal done. We have the longboat to ourselves and are carried out over a lovely stretch of calm blue water. The limestone karst formations tower into the heavens either side of us as we head towards Maya Bay (The Beach).
As we turn into a narrow gap in the cliffs we catch our first glimpse of it - and we have struck lucky. We were expecting hordes of tourists, but there are only a sprinkling of boats on the shimmering waters of the bay and few lobster-red bodies on the sun-kissed sands.
On arrival take a walk through dense jungle-like forest to look out over the emerald-coloured lagoon of Loh Samah on the other side, where scuba divers are doing their best Jacques Cousteau impressions.
We quickly head back to Maya, which, despite its popularity, is still undescribably beautiful. It is ringed by towering peaks and crags.
Imagine being here on your own with not a soul around. It would be other-worldly - a Jurassic Park. You can almost see those dinosaurs roaming its jungles. We modern-day mortals must content ourselves with spotting soaring eagles in between taking cooling dips in Maya's inviting azure waters.
The three hours fly by. Our boatman is ready to return us to civilisation. We ponder on whether some travel books and newspaper travel sections are unkind to suggest that Maya is not the place it once was after Hollywood came, saw and conquered.
Perhaps it's not. Overrated it may be. Unmissable it certainly is.
Time for the Walters gang to move on again. Next stop Koh Lanta, which we are told is lovely. Time to get on our bikes then, or scooters actually. But that's another story.