Two years ago, after applying for a job in southern Thailand, I remember thinking: "Where on Earth is Phuket"? Consulting my trusty (just-out-of-date) Lonely Planet guide, procured for a recent trip to the Kingdom, I realized it is a famous international tourist destination. Whoops!

Never having ventured so far south here before, I learn that Phuket is a large island on the west coast over Myanmar way — at the entrance to enormous Phang Nga Bay — with a small population of only 61,800 Buddhists, Muslims and Christians. According to the "travellers bible", it's replete with seafood, rice paddies, rubber plantations, coconuts, immaculate white - sand beaches, and forested hills, and surrounded by dramatic limestone karst islands and marine parks with spectacular coral reefs. Perfect! Similar to where I was living, but "in Asia".

Two months later, while listening to the radio and packing up my desk at the old job, a travel warning was issued by the Australian Department of Foreign Affairs. I heard "Phuket" loud and clear. The hairs on my arms stood to attention. It was a Friday evening, exactly two weeks after the Bali nightclub bombings. I left the office, headed to my farewell party and drank wine with friends into the wee hours. Mum called the next day like I knew she would. My side of the conversation went something like this: "Yes, Mum, I heard it. Yes, Mum, I'm still going. Yes, Mum, I'll be careful; yes, Mum, I'll stay away from nightclubs."

Two days of frantic packing later, followed by a further hysterical 10 minutes unpacking at the airport when presented with a AUS$900 excess baggage bill, I was on my way. Well, how is a girl supposed to fit her life into 25 kilos? I was moving country, for goodness sake. I threw half the luggage to my friends, hugged my boyfriend goodbye and started to cry at 10,000 feet.

Five days later, I arrived — via Port Moresby, Singapore, Bangkok and Koh Samui — at the Phuket International Airport. Expecting a shack, I was met with a bustling metropolis. The office messenger collected me and we hit the highway. Immediately, I sensed that all 61,800 Phuketians owned motor scooters, and they were buzzing around our vehicle like bees at a honey pot. Feeling peckish, I hinted we stop for a snack. I was expecting a roadside vendor stand. He took me to the food hall at Tesco Lotus Shopping Complex. Instant culture shock! Globalization had invaded paradise. Riding up the escalator, I spied some European faces but many more Thai shoppers. It was just like parts of Sydney and Melbourne, where Asian residents outnumber the Caucasians. Of course,
I ate phad thai.

According to my two-year-old guidebook, there wasn't much culinary choice available, apart from Thai cuisine. That was fine with me, since I adored Thai food. For the first few months, anyway. Then I began to miss my old diet of Caesar salads; sashimi tuna, salmon and reef fishes; fresh beetroots; and loads of avocadoes. Where once I could buy 10 for $3 at the Cairns market, I rejoice now when I can find a single avocado for 80 baht (about $2.50).

Despite missing some of my comfort foods, I'm not complaining. In my neighbourhood, innumerable seafood restaurants line the roadside along Rawai Beach, bulging with fresh-cooked fishes, squids, crabs, jumbo prawns, oysters, cockles and mussels (hope I didn't miss anything) cooked in exquisite variations at a fraction of prices back home. Across the road is the best pizza on Phuket. The choice of restaurants here has boomed. Every imaginable cuisine is available all over the island.

I am constantly amazed at how
much food Thai people consume each day. But I'm also reminded daily of their friendliness and hospitality. My local supermarket owner this evening emerged from his busy store to direct me as I reversed my car at the busy intersection (read: 61,800 motor scooters that follow me wherever I go). After my Christmas vacation in Cambodia, my landlord and his entire family welcomed me home with a fresh coconut and an enormous bunch of tropical blooms. So did his dogs, last night when they smelled my French chicken liver salad. And so will his roosters later tonight, because I'm not usually home so early and nobody has told them that roosters only need to crow at sunrise.
Thailand is known as the "Land of Smiles". I find the female clothing store assistants to be especially helpful. "We hab BIG size," they chant through charming smiles. "I'm sure you do," I reply through gritted teeth (it's a smile). I never saw myself as big, back in Australia; but here I feel like an Amazon next to the waif-like Thai girls. It's even worse, since my recent vacation on a Caribbean island, where the mamasans have butts like the side of a bus. Over there, I felt like "me" again small or, at least, normal. A friend's kids told me "You don't look like I thought you would; you're skinny!" Thank god for the honesty of children. But within 24 hours of returning to Phuket with shiny new eyes, I went shopping. The assistant took one look at me, smiled, and announced, "No hab big size!" I'd just gained 10 kilogrammes.

But back to the landlord. After returning from the Cari-bbe-an (or is it the Ca-rib-be-an?), I find my hacienda invaded by jungle creatures. They moved in, partied in my lounge, my bedroom, my hammock … especially my hammock. There were holes in the swaying bit, and a few days later the whole thing collapsed with me in it. He fixed it all! It lasted a week. Crash! Ow! My landlord and the family popped in again on "Today holiday" (make that Sunday!), and was aghast that his handiwork had failed. "OK, I fix!" And again he did. Now I sit on the hard garden wall, staring suspiciously at an empty hammock.

It's been interesting, to say the least, living on Phuket. Sometimes loneliness seeps through the walls, being so far from those I love. But really there is never, ever, a dull moment. I've learned to stand up straight on a moving boat, danced with sailors and "lady-boys", snorkelled and learnt to dive, kayaked in giant hongs, trekked up the near-vertical side of a mountain in search of the biggest flower in the world, and witnessed police raids (all in the name of research) — and that's just during working hours. Otherwise, when not in the office, you'll find me at the beach, the local sauna and massage, heading north to explore the mainland, or at the international airport. Phuket is, after all, the centre of the world. That's life on Fantasy Island.

Friendly note to Lonely Planet: The population of Phuket is estimated to be around half a million residents year-round (a sharp increase from 61,800). And the English language newspaper Phuket Gazette is not fortnightly; it's been printed weekly now for two years.