Karma Samui

We’ve covered all of 30 yards in the Karma Samui golf buggy when our driver, Lily, comes to an abrupt halt. Has she left something in reception? Has she spotted some tropical creature she doesn’t want to run over? Then it becomes clear – we’ve already arrived at the Koh Samui villa that is about to become our temporary home. Getting ferried such a short distance might feel slightly ridiculous, but there’s no way that this Mr and Mrs Smith are about to acknowledge it.

Just minutes earlier, however, we’d been wondering whether we were even in the right place. The simple open-air reception gave nothing away. Where was everybody? Where was the awe-inspiring luxury we’d flown all this way for? Answer: hidden away. That’s the thing about this villa resort – it’s a hideaway in the true sense of the word. Mark, the affable Australian general manager, had assured us they were busy, you just wouldn’t know it. And, as we were about to discover, the much-fêted luxury was just a golf buggy ride away.

As Lily throws open the door, the Smith smug-o-meter swings round to maximum. A stunningly designed kitchen/lounge/dining area overlooks a private swimming pool surrounded by loungers and an outdoor bed, the walls are covered with simple Thai artwork and, here and there, sculpted elephants appear to roam through the property.  

Glancing at Mr Smith, I can see he’s got his eye on the five-seater corner sofa, and its accompanying flatscreen, surround-sound TV system. I can’t say I blame him – it looks tailor-made for weary, jet-lagged bodies. There’s no time for that though. Right now, Lily wants to show us the kitchen, where a Smeg fridge makes a mockery of the term minibar. There’s nothing remotely mini about this thing.

Lily continues the tour, and in the bedroom she seems almost as enthusiastic as us about the centrepiece – an unfeasibly large four-poster bed. Beyond it, 20-foot floor-to-ceiling windows give way to a private balcony with a view of the sea so perfect that it almost makes me miss the walk-in wardrobe.

Unfortunately, even though we’ve selected a property with a kitchen, it doesn’t take long to realise how unlikely we are to use it. It’s hardly our fault through – blame the staff at Karma Samui, with their pesky Room Service 2.0. If you need anything at all, from a ride to reception (honestly – you're not expected to walk anywhere) to a cheeseburger at 4am, simply dial zero and, hey presto, a golf buggy will be at your door in seconds, a staff member in the driving seat, ready to drop off your food or take you to the restaurant/pool/reception.

Walking becomes a thing of the past. No wonder you never see any of the other guests around. One of the few times we do is when I insist on visiting Spa Samui Village, one of the island’s best-known yoga retreats. After reluctantly dragging ourselves away from our heavenly hideaway, we hop in a golf buggy (of course) and are seamlessly transferred to a truck for the brief trip to a wooden sala in the middle of a tropical rainforest. Mr Smith isn't sure if it’s the heat or the brilliant teaching but, for the first time ever, he actually gets something out of a yoga lesson other than acute embarrassment.  

The next day, I’m forced to admit that the 4x4 he insisted on hiring might not have been such a bad idea after all. Having spent a fortifying afternoon on the five-seater sofa, we set off on the 55-mile road that encircles the island, in search of a sunset cocktail at the legendary Five Islands Restaurant. So named because its view takes in all five surrounding islands, this trendy spot on Koh Samui’s western Taling Ngam beach also happens to be the perfect place to experience the island’s famed sunsets.

As we approach, mellow beats drift out to greet us as suave-looking staff members go about the business of delivering drinks to an appreciative crowd – it feels as though we’ve stumbled across a grown-up version of Café del Mar. Cocktail in hand, light fading, we sit back to enjoy the show – and we’re not disappointed. We’d love to stay for dinner, but we have a prior arrangement. As the sun slips away, so do we, swapping one hideaway for another as we head back to Karma Samui.

Ten minutes spent on the hillside terrace of the Padma Restaurant, gazing out over an ocean sprinkled with the lights of fishermen’s boats, and the sense of injustice at having to leave the Five Islands is washed away. Mr Smith heralds his Wagyu beef tenderloin with roasted apple and horseradish mash as the best red meat he’s ever tasted.

And, so, with the sunset experience and dinner-under-the-stars boxes ticked, there’s one last thing I have to do. At 5.40am the next morning, we drag ourselves from the four-poster – funny how much easier this is when the prospect of an east-facing, private balcony overlooking the sea awaits.

Only mildly bleary-eyed, we lie back in our sun loungers, looking up into a pitch-black sky. And then it happens. Finding the words to describe the subsequent explosion of colour across the horizon is difficult. I could try, but I don’t think I would ever do it justice. Describing how I felt while I watched it though – that’s the easy bit. Lying on that balcony, wildlife stirring all around us, watching one little fisherman's boat out on the sea and seeing the sun rise over the ocean, I felt as though we were the luckiest couple in the world.