Koh Rong Samloem: The Last Island Standing

Okay so here is the thing about Koh Rong Samloem, Cambodia: everyone is busy mourning the death of Thailand's untouched islands while completely ignoring the fact that the real deal is still breathing—just barely—thirty minutes off the coast of Sihanoukville. While its big brother Koh Rong has already surrendered to the bucket-and-beats crowd, Samloem (emphasis on the "m," not "Samloen" like the guidebooks misspell) is holding on by its fingernails, offering something that barely exists anymore: actual silence. ## The Anti-Development Victory Lap There are no roads here. Let that sink in. No scooters buzzing past your breakfast table, no tuk-tuk drivers hassling you about waterfalls you've already seen. You arrive at Saracen Bay—a horseshoe of powder so white it hurts your eyes—and realize your only transportation options are your feet or a longtail boat that costs more than your bungalow. The west side, where Lazy Beach and the imaginatively named Sunset Beach sit, requires either a sweaty 45-minute jungle trek or convincing a fisherman to take you around the horn. This friction is the point. It keeps out the people who need infinity pools and 24-hour air conditioning. ## The Bioluminescent Reality Check Yes, the plankton are real. On moonless nights, you wade into Warm Water and disturb millions of microscopic dinoflagellates that light up like Blue Man Group had a baby with Avatar. But here's what the Instagrammers won't tell you: you're also sharing that water with jellyfish the size of dinner plates, and the "glowing" effect requires total darkness, meaning you'll be stumbling back to your bamboo hut hoping you don't step on a stingray. It's magical, but it's not Disney. The electricity cuts out at 10 PM anyway, so you might as well embrace it. ## The Beautiful Discomfort You will stay in a $12 wooden shack with a mosquito net and a cold-water shower that smells faintly of sulfur. You will eat fish that was swimming this morning at a table with sand for a floor. Your "resort" might have a generator that runs from 6 PM to midnight, and that’s it. If this sounds like hell, excellent—stay away. The people who come here come for the specific cocktail of jungle-meets-beach, for the hiking trails that actually require hiking shoes, for the sensation that you're trespassing in paradise before the developers inevitably win. Because they will win. The Chinese investment creeping out from Sihanoukville has already started eyeing Samloem. Go now. Sleep in the sand, get stung by something you can't identify, and remember what travel felt like before it needed to be comfortable.