The bus stopped in the middle of nowhere at some awful, antisocial time of the morning and those of us going to Phuket had to get onto a mini-bus, which was a lot more comfortable than the big bus. I sat with my arm out of the window, which was well stupid as it was burnt to a crisp when we eventually arrived. On our last legs, we started the final part of our journey, a two hour boat trip to Phi Phi (also often spelt Pee Pee) island. We had travelled by every conceivable form of transport in the last three days - train, car, plane, taxi, tuk tuk, bus, mini bus and boat - and finally we could relax.

Koh Phi Phi consists a narrow strip of land, lined on each side by long golden beaches, linking two uninhabited rocky islands. It was complete paradise, which is obviously why it was used in the movie, The Beach. It’s the sort of romantic paradise that you should visit as a couple, not with four other blokes. Never mind, it was still a fantastic place to go for a week.

The accommodation was basic to say the least, which is actually fine by me as the island was not crowded with people and has not been destroyed by huge great hotels, as is the case on Phuket. For a pound each we had two huts nested in between the palm trees, each containing a bed and a smelly squat toilet. Given that the change of climate and diet was likely to effect all our digestive systems, we all agreed that we would only use the toilets by the beach. We had been promised showers (a priority in this heat), but these turned out to be a well and a bucket with holes in.

The days on Koh Phi Phi were complete relaxation, with the odd highlight like the day we took a boat trip round the islands to do some snorkelling, and watching some local Thais annihilate "we are such shit hot football players" Tiny, Cobsey and Mike. In the evening we would go for a meal in the village and then a bar to watch a movie or, if we were in the mood, the beach bar to get ratted. Thai-whiskey will probably make us go blind but it gets results!

We even eventually managed to get used to the heat at night and the sound of coconuts falling on the roof.

Unfortunately, Alan, who had actually eaten some of the Russian food, was now quite ill and Mike had burnt his feet, which puffed-up really rather badly. We all also overdid it in the sun, which was considerably hotter than it was on Brighton beach, where of course we never went when we were supposed to be in lectures. Despite the odd bit of burning we left Koh Phi Phi with tans to be proud of, albeit safe in the knowledge that skin cancer is probably now a dead-cert. At least we wouldn’t look so pasty-white and out of place when we got back to Bangkok.

I'm not sure if it’s still possible, given that the island is a lot more developed now (decimated by what I've heard), but those couples used to be able to go off for a romantic night by themselves on any one of the beaches that could only be reached by boat, before hoping to god that the boat owner remembered go back and pick them up in the morning.