Here on Koh Phangan, things are opening back up slowly – but just as we all predicted, it’s quite a different world.

Yesterday, I walked past one of the ‘girlie bars’ on my way back to the motorbike repair shop (was getting a flat tyre fixed). One of the bars was showing some (tiny) signs of life, and Lucky came running out to greet me, swaying and tottering on her skyscraper heels and calling, Helen! HELENNN! (well, at least she remembered the last syllable).

I felt a sudden rush of nostalgia for the old days where I used to go hang out with the girls there, or find myself in the middle of a throng of them at parties, the Mama keeping my bag over her shoulder (due to my 20-or-so year habit of leaving it solo on the edge of the floor somewhere while I danced off without it).

The yoga places are open again, but all of a sudden, these just don’t have the same appeal as going to sit in a brothel for a bit

I’ve always liked them. Last year, I accessed a past life where I’d owned one. And I remember when I lived in Kings Cross as a student, all the sex workers who gathered round the station every night came to know my name (this was after my first interaction with one of them: an argument about my standing and waiting for a friend on her patch).

So this part of Koh Phangan has all-but-disappeared, and I wonder how the girls will get by without tourists. The other indication that the island has changed was popping down to Haad Rin for the afternoon. The beach was glorious – no bucket stalls anywhere – but the real shocker was when I walked back to my bike to realise it had been moved. Not only did I find it, but someone had actually fixed my mirrors back on to it!

Peaks and troughs on the island.