Thailand's holiday hotspots have become dystopian ghost towns

The white sands of Bo Phut Beach on Koh Samui, a popular tourist island in the Gulf of Thailand that usually sees more than two million visitors a year, lie deserted. A couple of jet skis and kayaks bake in the sun, looking more like beached whales than sports equipment waiting for sunbathers.

Following the appearance of Covid-19 and an international flight ban into Thailand on April 4, tourism ground to a halt and an air of quiet desperation hangs over the island of around 63.000 inhabitants.

Many of Koh Samui’s hotels remain closed, and beaches are covered in debris as a consequence of staff no longer working. Many may never reopen. As far back as early June, Worasit Pongkampan, president of the Tourism Association of Koh Samui, announced that almost 100 hotel properties on the island were up for sale.

Those that have reopened in recent days, for the most part larger chains, are running Internet flash sales aimed at the domestic market. As part of the “Samui Unlock Sale” organized by the Tourism Authority of Thailand, participating hotels drop their rates by up to 70 per cent.

Marine tours and wellness businesses are also part of the campaign. Other government sponsored tourism campaigns will cover some accommodation and transport expenses until October. But Lutz Mueller, the General Manager of Anantara Bo Phut, which reopened on July 1, pointed out that many staff have been laid off across the sector. “Occupancy rates resulting from these promotions are only high during long holiday weekends. Once the school holidays are over, the campaign is likely to flounder. And hotels can not run with the current low rates for long.”

Along the main road west from Bo Phut to Mae Nam, the next beach area, business after business is shuttered or abandoned – restaurants, travel agents, bars, vehicle rentals and shops have either been closed for months or shut down for good. Countless properties, some dilapidated and ready to collapse, have For Rent and For Sale signs floating in the sea breeze.

In the evenings, along some main roads, food stalls have sprung up. Out of necessity, former staff of hotels and restaurants have gone into business for themselves, hoping to make ends meet by selling snacks. Non-profit Charity Sisters of Samui currently feeds 5,000 unemployed workers a week. Many others migrant workers have left, back to the mainland, to their hometowns in the country’s northeast, or to neighbouring Myanmar.

Back on Bo Phut Beach, Coco Tums is the only lively bar in the evenings. Bean bags are spaced in tune with local regulations and the punters are locals. But these domestic visitors are unlikely to be able to sustain the island’s main economic source.

Tourist footfall on Koh Samui has been declining for some years, with competition from new destinations in the region and a strong Baht putting some travellers off. The global lockdown has turned a crisis into an existential battle.

The Thai government, not for the first time, has announced that it wants to attract rich tourists to restart an industry that creates almost 20 per cent of the country’s GDP. Lutz Mueller points out that high-end visitors want to experience authentic Thai culture, outside of the resorts, as much as those travelling on a more modest budget. “If the small roadside restaurants, markets and shops disappear, the island will loose more of its lustre.”

There is a silver lining. Turtles have laid eggs at several locations on Koh Samui, for the first time in decades. Fishermen have filmed pink dolphins between Koh Samui and neighboring Koh Phangan. Traffic on Samui’s recently completed ring road is lighter than it has been in years. Lutz Mueller sees this respite as an opportunity. “It’s a good time to rethink how we want tourism to develop in the coming years, but right now, businesses struggle to pay their bills.”