Cinema: The Real Beach

The Thai entrepreneurs who owned the prime Ko Pha-Ngan waterfront were, at one point, the black sheep of their respective clans. Beaches were useless: the prime coconut-farming plots were inland. But with the arrival of the sand-loving farangs, a whole new economy emerged. Families like the Thuaycharoens, known locally as the Khaos, grew wealthy building bungalow complexes and beach bars. Mustachioed Mr. Khao is now governor of the whole province. Bespectacled Mrs. Khao manages their real estate empire from behind the counter of her two-aisle grocery store. The kids who buy rolling papers and beer from her would be bummed to know she is dreaming of erecting a luxury hotel complex down the beach.

They think Ko Pha-Ngan is their special place, even though it may be just the latest port of entry for kids in their generation to go off the grid and out of their heads. Previous generations too have wandered everywhere from Key Largo to Kathmandu for post-school, pre-career adventures. A few stumbled upon scenes where they felt, for a few magical moments, that the old rules didn't apply. But just as those paradises were transformed by the brutal economics of tourism, Ko Pha-Ngan is already morphing into a travel brochure. Electricity arrived in 1997. Roads are being paved. And along Hadrin's main thoroughfare, where Thai kids once touted magic-mushroom shakes, cyber-shops now offer e-mail access.

For Tamara, stories of a pre-electric island--when it really was paradise--are merely the grousing of the kids who got there first. She doesn't believe she is living the twilight of the Ko Pha-Ngan era. But just as surely as she will eventually return to California and begin the next phase of her life, so too will Ko Pha-Ngan pass from the domain of ravey subculture to just another pretty tourist trap. The Beach was just the latest book to get it right: Paradise will always be lost.