Phu Quoc

It faces southeast, so the water is glass from November to April while the northeast monsoon blows, but when the wind swings the other way weed comes in and the bottom turns messy. The loungers belong to the restaurants behind; a drink buys one.

The line runs 7,899m across the water off An Thoi and takes about 15 minutes. Partway it passes low over a fishing village, boats and tin roofs under your feet. It stops for over an hour around midday, so timing it wrong means a wasted trip.

Ask which islands a boat stops at before you take it. The coral is patchy, alive in some spots and broken up in others, and the trip is a day round the dozen small islands to the south, stopping at three, with gear and lunch on board.

Wire compounds stand in rows. Inside them the tortures are staged with mannequins. It went up under the French, and the South Vietnamese government enlarged it heavily, and a barbed-wire cage still sits out in the open sun. Nobody leaves this place cheerful.

When the tide drops, hundreds of metres of mud come out and the boats sit down on it. A long concrete jetty was built for that reason, and you walk to the end of it to reach a boat. At the landward end you pick a live crab and the shop beside it steams yours.

Outside the wet season this is not a waterfall; from about February the flow thins to a thread and what you see is rock. A ten-minute walk into the national park forest brings you to it, on a path with steps and a rail, so any shoes will do.

Steps are cut up the rock where the Duong Dong river meets the sea, and a shrine stands at the top. Fishermen burn incense before taking a boat out, and in the evening people sit on the rock and watch the sun go into the sea. The night market is beside it.

The north shore is shallow, and at low tide red starfish lie exposed on the sand. Signs ask you not to lift them out, which kills them. Restaurants here are built out over the water on poles, and the road in is red laterite that coats everything in dust.

From the headland at the northwest tip you can see a Cambodian island across about 4km of water. A small bay below holds the fishing boats, and sand in front. The road there cuts through national park forest, so a motorbike ride stays shaded most of the way.

Several farms sit along the south coast, and an oyster is opened for its pearl while you watch. Lines of hanging shells float offshore, and the colour runs black or gold by species. The shops attached carry imported stock too, so ask where a pearl came from.

A new quarter at An Thoi on the southern tip, styled as a Mediterranean village. Sunset is watched from the Kiss Bridge, two arms over the sea that stop just short of touching. After dark a stage on the water hosts a show of fireworks and fountains.

A night market set up every evening on a Duong Dong street near the Dinh Cau shrine. Pick seafood off the ice and it is grilled on the spot; the scale sets the bill, so check the price per kilo first. Pearl jewellery stalls are plentiful too.

A wildlife park in the forest near Ganh Dau, far north on the island, where a bus drives you among animals roaming loose. The walking section is big too, worth a good half day. Animals hide in the shade at midday, so be there when the gates open.

A long beach running down the west coast south of Duong Dong, the side of the island where sunsets go down over open water. Beach bars put out beanbags on the sand at sunset. Rainy months bring a southwest wind, high surf and, some days, washed-up rubbish.

The island's largest pagoda, set on an east coast hillside with the sea below. Climb the stairs and, from the terrace of the main hall, the eastern sea fills the view. It is a temple, so cover shoulders and knees.

A small bay in the southeast whose name refers to sand as fine as cream. Big resorts take up most of the shore, but a public access path survives. Being on the east coast, the water stays fairly calm through the wet months while the west side turns rough.