By Lucy Barajikian

(Los Angeles Times) -- While driving around the lush green island of Phuket, off the southern coast of Thailand, some 500 miles (800 kilometers) from Bangkok, we were captivated by the commercial signs in the Thai language with its graceful loops, circles and curlicues. But it was one sign in English that read "Monkeys picking coconuts" that stopped the conversation cold while we wondered if this was some sort of Asian enterprise that simply got lost in the translation.

After a while, it all made a crazy kind of sense when we learned that the fabric of Phuket society involves not only tourism, fishing, tin and rubber, but also the coconut palm. Every part of the tree -- husk, leaf, nut and trunk -- is used to make scores of products, and the people of Phuket have simply found an ingenious way to collect the fruit of the palm, the coconut, an ingredient indispensable to Thai cooking and for making coconut oil, while the fiber is used for rope, thatching and stuffing mattresses.

You could call it monkey business. Like the rest of us mortals, monkeys here have a job to go to in the morning. Somchai, our guide, explained that "Phuket has two monkey training schools where the Ling Nang (a small, brown, hairy monkey) is trained to climb a coconut tree and then learns how to choose ripe coconuts." Bananas and peanuts keep the monkey wonderfully focused.

"But," we asked, "how does the monkey harvest the coconut? With a knife?"

"No," he said, "he bites the stem and twirls it with both hands until the stem breaks loose and the coconut drops."

Pretty heady stuff.

According to Somchai, some of these monkeys are so skillful that they can pick 200 to 500 coconuts a day, and in the process earn more than a government official, a fact that may make a bureaucrat seek the total extinction of this monkey's gene pool.

While the monkeys were busy earning their keep, we visitors were touring and relaxing on the dazzling beaches of this island paradise that has become a popular international resort destination since the 1970s when blissfully irresponsible hippies and backpackers first washed up on its shores. The hippies feasted at noodle stands and slept on the beach and in simple bungalows. But in a remarkably short time, an extraordinary transformation took place in this once-ordinary island of fishing villages. Now, no one is surprised to see visitors registering at hotels all over the island not only carrying backpacks but bulging Louis Vuitton luggage.

When Phuket began developing after the '70s -- almost too rapidly -- officials tried to preserve its character and natural beauty by passing a building code that stipulated that no hotel could rise higher than a palm tree. For the most part, they were successful, but a few developers skirted the law. That minor architectural blemish has not deterred the more than 1 million travelers a year who snorkel, dive, windsurf, windsail, waterski, fish and dip their toes into the waters surrounding this unique piece of real estate, the largest (12 miles wide and 30 miles long) of a cluster of islands on an isthmus that separates the Gulf of Thailand and the clear blue Andaman Sea.

Thai social life revolves around temples

Phuket's charms are even more seductive now that the Asian economy has taken a nose dive and prices for hotels, entertainment and food have dropped. The exchange rate used to be 25 bahts to the US $1; today, the rate is 36.6.

Phuket is also renowned for some of the best seafood in the country, especially for its tiger king prawns and the ugly, turquoise-mottled Phuket lobster that weighs anywhere from three to 10 pounds. Its cuisine, the hottest in Thailand, adds a quick blast to every bite. If you like things more temperate, all you have to do to reduce the heat factor is tell the waiter to go easy on the chile peppers. The more adventurous can try a menu favorite -- fish curry made of fermented fish innards that delivers a terrifying jolt, like a shot out of a cannon. But most diners will be satisfied to sharpen their forks over sublime curried chicken in coconut milk (an essential part of the south's cuisine), roast pork over rice, dried shrimp fried with cashews, or curried fish with coconut milk steamed inside a banana leaf.

Where you unpack your bags will depend on what you're looking for. There are more than a dozen major beach resorts, all on the western side, facing the Andaman Sea, extending from Nai Han at the south to Bang Tao to the north, a distance of some 19 miles. Each has a distinctive character of its own. For those who like it frenetic and commercial, there's brash and beautiful Patong. Others will be lured by the beauty and quiet atmosphere of Karon and Kata Beaches with their curving bays and less boisterous night life. There's Pansea Bay, famous for the exclusive digs of the legendary Pansea and Amanpuri Hotels (no bargains here; Amanpuri charges up to US$1,000 a night). For the longest beach, look for Mai Khao that you can share with giant sea turtles from November to February when they lumber ashore to lay eggs. And for those who yearn for solitude and seclusion, there are even a few sandy strips with nary a footprint or hotel in sight. In among the coves and palm and casuarina groves are not only scores of luxury hotels, but the budget-minded can find plenty of affordable bungalows, Chinese-style inns, motels, guest houses and even houseboats.

Interestingly enough, it wasn't until 1972 that the first upscale hotel was constructed. That's only 27 years ago. The hordes followed. And have kept coming. Even Hollywood came calling. The 70-year-old Town Hall or district office in Phuket served as the French Embassy in the 1984 film, "The Killing Fields."

And for a look at a world not to be missed, visitors should take a glorious, one-day exploration to spectacular limestone-studded Phangnga Bay by long-tail boat. The proper way to make a martini may have been immortalized by British agent 007, but James Bond also made cinematic history when these stunning limestone formations appeared as backdrops in the 1973 film, "The Man With the Golden Gun."

Rising from Phangnga Bay, these unique limestone formations appeared as a backdrop in the 1973 Bond film, "The Man With the Golden Gun"

Even your wildest dreams would not be wild enough to hatch up these kinds of images. Observers have struggled to capture their uniqueness, describing them as "jungle-clad skyscrapers," "mist-borne temples" and "fern-covered nails pounded into the greenish sea," for they shoot straight out of the sea bed hundreds of feet into the air. Tufts of trees crown their tops. Others are lost in the morning mist. Their eerie beauty is unforgettable. Among the mangrove-lined waterways are other dramatic scenes: inner hermit caves said to have magical powers, collapsed caves open to the sky, overhanging craggy stalactites, and ancient caves covered with paintings of dolphins and sharks where the only sound heard is the lapping of the sea.

If the water enchants, do does Phuket itself. One morning, Somchai took us to what is considered the center of Thai life -- the temple -- in this case, the Wat Chalong, the largest and most sacred of the 29 in Phuket.

We anticipated a peaceful and hushed setting, a contemplative haven for devotees. Instead, we came face to face with a genial kind of bedlam, exuberant, colorful, pulsing with life. Somchai reminded us that although temples are mainly religious in function, "They also serve as a source of education, employment and information agency, even dispensary," and, true enough, this day the whole community seemed to be out in force.

Lemon-yellow candles and incense burned in front of the temples. Firecrackers that were set off to scare the evil spirits crackled around us. People bought trinkets and souvenirs, small squares of gilt, lotus blossoms and incense at vendor stalls that circled the grounds. We wondered where the gilt went, and followed the trail to a building where people were covering three bronze statues with tiny patches of the shiny gold leaf. One statue is of an abbot who quelled a tin miners' rebellion in the 1800s; the two others were thought to have had healing and protective powers. Devotees keep the room fragrant with bowls of flowers and incense.

In the 91-degree equatorial heat, only one building was air-conditioned. It housed this statue of a revered monk made entirely out of wax

More glitter, whitewash and bright colors adorn the outside of the intricately carved buildings on the grounds. They include the Temple of the Guardian, the Viharin (where the monks pray), the Bot (where services are held), a crematorium and monks' quarters. In the 91-degree equatorial heat, only one building was air-conditioned. For a very good reason. Inside was a very life-like statue of a revered monk made entirely out of wax.

We were drawn to another flurry of activity at one of the temples and saw a white-robed young man with shaved head standing on the steps under a large, red-and-white-fringed umbrella. Ten family members swarmed around him, some holding gold cellophane-wrapped gifts. A photographer scampered around from side to side, lining them up in orderly fashion before capturing the moment on film.

What we were witnessing, Somchai explained, was a man preparing for his ordination ceremony.

"Over 50 percent of Thai men enter the monastic life at some time in their lives, to serve anywhere from three weeks to a lifetime, to earn merit and bring honor to their families."

The saffron robe comes later; now only the most basic of a monk's needs are provided: a pillow, a mosquito net, alms bowl, sandals, an umbrella, a razor.

To round out our Phuket experience, Somchai suggested we tackle some Thai palaces of fun and culture. We were less than enchanted with the idea of watching crocodile wrestling (losers end up as handbags), even less interested in the battle of the sexes in the form of kite fighting contests (between "male" and "female" kites fixed with hooks).

Because of time constraints, we opted for Phuket Orchid Garden and Thai Village, built on the site of an old tin mine, where there was a glorious mix of performance, entertainment, animal show, extensive orchid collection and wide range of handicrafts from all over the country.

Wat Chalong is the largest and most sacred of the 29 temples in Phuket

The road there was thick with buses, cars, trucks and three-wheeled motor bike scooters known as tuk tuks. According to one observer, the tuk tuk "compensates for what it lacks in appearance with its contribution to noise, pollution levels and hospital beds." It is limited by law to carrying only three passengers, but that has little impact on reality. We saw sometimes as many as six to eight people tucked into one tuk tuk, a good way to maximize profits, but might account for why Phuket's bandage and splint resources are often depleted.

Along the way, we passed Phuket Town and glimpsed the legacy of the Chinese tin and rubber barons of a century ago -- the beautiful, Colonial-style, Sino-Portuguese mansions that were built with balconies, elaborate carvings of flowers and trees, terra-cotta tiles and pastel-colored doors and shutters.

Here also are department stores carrying world-famous handwoven Thai silk, elegant yan lipao handbags (these are made from a vine that grows in the region and woven around wicker frames, the making of which is a project sponsored by the Queen of Thailand), pewterware (in its early history Phuket's economy was largely based on rich deposits of tin), Phuket batik, and the famous Phuket pearls harvested from the surrounding waters.

We passed Chinese temples on Ranong Road, scene of the well-known Vegetarian Festival held in October, where those of Chinese ancestry maintain a vegetarian diet for nine days and present vegetarian offerings to the gods. There's music, firecrackers and an elaborate parade. The festival does have one peculiarity. Some celebrants don't just subscribe to the vegetable ritual. In a desire to mortify the flesh, they skewer their anatomy in startling places and ways. Some pierce their faces or tongues; others climb ladders made from swords or walk over hot coals.

But this was February, not October, so we attended the performances at Thai Village that proved to be a visual feast. There was the rhythmical drum dance of central Thailand and another that depicted the gathering of silkworms and the weaving of silk threads. Dressed in elaborate costumes, young Thai beauties -- some sporting fingernails six inches long -- danced with grace and elegance. To master the intricate movements, not only do the dancers have to begin training when very young, but even the way they use their fingers can take years to perfect.

It reminded Somchai of another little nugget of coconut lore: "The reason the dancers can bend their fingers back almost to the wrist," he said, "is because they soak their hands in coconut oil to make them more supple."

Elephants have played an essential role throughout Thailand's history. They're now trained to perform for tourists

A different kind of grace was exhibited by the kick boxers who are forbidden to wrestle or bite, but can shove, push, kick and batter each other, using shoulders, legs, feet, knees, fists and elbows with lightning speed to knock their opponents senseless. All this was accompanied by the wail (flute), boom (drum) and clang (cymbal) of a three-man orchestra. This bout was a decided improvement over tactics used in Thai boxing in days gone by when the boxers would wrap their hands in cloth in which glass was embedded. It's also tame compared to the boxing bouts that now take place at the Phuket Boxing Stadium in the suburb of Saphan Hin in Phuket Town, which have been described as combining "the fervency of a prayer meeting and the chaos of a riot."

We had already learned about a monkey's life in Phuket. At Thai Village we learned more about the plight of the Asian elephant, an animal that has played an illustrious role in Thailand's history. Battles used to be fought on their backs, and later, these magnificent creatures were employed in the hauling of tin and teak. But times have changed. Developers have absorbed large tracks of forest where the animals used to roam freely. Jobs have run out along with the terrain. Few exciting careers are left. And for obvious reasons, elephants make poor household pets.

But enterprising Thais have corralled them for performances at Thai Village. Appalling? Maybe. We found it a singular experience to see elephant soccer (a well-placed kick delivered the ball over the goal line), a demonstration of log towing, a delicate maneuver where the elephant placed a bowler hat on the head of his trainer (who probably made sure the elephant had a very substantial breakfast that morning), even a tug of war with tourists, with the tourists on the losing end. There was one final poignant moment when this majestic animal took a well-deserved bow.

Then it was time for us to put aside agendas, timetables and schedules, and head for Promtep Cape to treasure a quiet moment at this point where sea and coastline meet. We absorbed the peacefulness and beauty, and thought about why we had come -- and all the reasons we'd like to return.

(c) 1999, Lucy Barajikian. Distributed by Los Angeles Times Syndicate. Barajikian is a freelance food and travel writer living in Los Angeles, California.