Having taken an hour to fly from Kuala Lumpur to the southern seaside Thai town of Krabi, I could not understand why the road journey to Ko Lanta, 80km away, would have to take another three or four hours.

The exasperated travel agent kept repeating: "Kafurri, you know?"

But I didn't know.

The journey by minivan, packed with passengers and with its roof weighed down by provisions and other goods, took us through small towns, rubber plantations and scrub. It wasn't until the road ended at the water's edge did the mystery of 'kafurri' come to be solved.

Ko Lanta was a short span of water away and had to be accessed by a huge and flat-topped metal barge, the kafurri or car ferry. This is where the journey comes to a bottleneck, although we were lucky enough to board the ferry fairly quickly.

The ferry swallowed almost 40 vehicles. The journey was leisurely, which was appropriate, because the pace of life on Ko Lanta is like that.

Ko Lanta comprises two islands, Ko Lanta Noi (small) and Ko Lanta Yai (big), so there are actually two ferry crossings. Vehicles released from one ferry race 8km to get to the head of the line for the next ferry. Minivans and trucks jockey for position, turning the quiet country road into an unlikely racetrack.

The crossing between Ko Lanta Noi and Ko Lanta Yai is even shorter. I saw a couple of people swim across one evening.

Ko Lanta Yai is a long island, some 30km in length and about 6km wide. One of its main attractions is the beaches, all of which face westwards - towards the setting sun. A map of Ko Lanta shows an almost unbroken string of resorts along the beaches on the western side, while the eastern side is mysteriously empty.

The beaches of Ko Lanta are spectacular, and many Europeans flee here for the winter.

A PIECE OF HISTORY: Ko Lanta was once an old trading route stopover, and this one and only Chinese temple on the island is a reminder of that.

The seasons

November to April is the dry season, while May to October is wet. This is when most tourist activities come to a grinding halt and the island reverts to its agricultural and fishing-based industries. The locals refer to this as the 'green' season as opposed to the 'high' season.

Conceivably, the 'high' also refer to hotel prices, which spike early in November. Many resorts open only during this period, and it's the same with many of the dive operators, restaurants and other tourist-related businesses.

A decade ago, Ko Lanta was a sleepy backwater with a predominantly Muslim population. Only a handful of hardy backpackers visited. But soon, this well-kept secret became public knowledge and the tourists started coming.

Thankfully, most of the development on the island is confined to the narrow fringe by the beach, although tourism has spawned many an imaginative enterprise - Thai cooking schools, a monkey school, holiday bungalows, elephant trekking and sea-based activities like island hopping, kayaking, snorkelling, etc.

Many tourists come simply to flop on the beach, lulled by the rolling waves. Beachside restaurants, internet cafés, travel agents, souvenir shops, beach massages and cold drinks ensure that a holiday can be spent entirely on the beach.

The best way to experience the island is on a motorcycle. Mopeds and motorcycles can be rented easily. Wearing a helmet is optional, and tourists and locals can be seen helmet-less, zipping here and there.

Traffic is very light and generally quite slow-moving. The road leads to the Ko Lanta marine park, with a lighthouse at the terminus, said to be accessible only with a 4WD. I was neither determined nor in possession of a 4WD, so I let the road take me to the eastern side of the island, over the ridge of forest to a high lookout point.

In the horizon were the emerald islands of Krabi, forested limestone crags rising dramatically from the sea, while the coastline beckoned below.

Lanta Old Town

Lanta Old Town is the administrative centre of Ko Lanta, but it's just one road with rows of weather-beaten wooden buildings hemming in on either side, with the sea just beyond.

The town is over 100 years old and has the only Chinese temple on the island, a reminder of the time when it was an important stopover on the trading route between Penang, Malacca and Singapore.

Now a fishing village, the town is clean and neat. Some of the wooden buildings have been converted into stylish restaurants and shops, looking out to colourful fishing boats bobbing gently on the waves.

Past the town, the road continued on to the south-eastern tip of the island, to the sea gypsy village of Sang-Ga-U.

Called 'Chao Lay' in Thai, the sea gypsies are an itinerant, seagoing people with their own language and culture. They are scattered over large coastal areas in South-East Asia.

On the eastern side of the island, away from the tourist trail, are verdant padi fields, rubber plantations and small villages. Perhaps this was the 'real' Ko Lanta before the tourist boom.

We ended up at one of the seafood restaurants at Saladan on the north-western tip: long wooden structures built over the sea.

The fresh seafood and piquant herbs made the offerings here "the best food I've tasted", said a fellow diver, an American living in Nicaragua.

Whether one agreed or not with this assessment, there was no denying that the clear, starry sky, the dark shimmering water, the tang of sea breeze and the languid pace of life weaved its magic on one.

Top photo: The Lanta Old Town waterfront.