Is Thailand safe to visit? Zara McDermott's new documentary
The vibrant and colourful sights of Thailand aren’t just for hedonistic young backpackers — you can enjoy the country at any age
Nick Redman - 2 September 2025
IMAGE: BBC / South Shore
After-dark Bangkok with its mosaic of a million golden-lit windows in black skyscrapers is a great city to explore when you’re an older traveller. Elegant, international, equal parts gritty and groovy, it’s a little like Manhattan, a lot like Hong Kong, Kuala Lumpur or for that matter Shanghai, or any of those places far away from Europe that have sky-high modernity coupled with scurrying neighbourhoods down below.
When I was younger, I gravitated towards places I found “edgy” and “different”: manic New Delhi or the otherness of split-personality Istanbul. Now that I’m older, Bangkok is my kind of town: familiar but foreign, safe but strange, world-class yet local, with food to die(t) for. In essence, it’s a chance to dip into a place that’s elsewhere but also home.
Last time I was there, I loved walking the hot night streets of the Thai capital. Getting lost, and not particularly caring either, borne along by the neon lights and the cranking, noisy traffic, the flame-flash of the meaty street grills and the stalls selling sweet tapioca-based puddings.
Bangkok, I can safely say, is benign. The Big Mango, they call it, with a nod to New York’s Big Apple. Gilded temples with delicate pointy eaves and lily ponds to visit by day; and later, high-up cocktail bars with views of the glittery night city.
I’m so happy I made the journeys I did and managed to return safely. Because when idealis[1]tic 20-somethings travel, and unthinking older-somethings head off in search of a new, better life, they can get into all kinds of scrapes. There are those who live out their dream, while for others – whether it’s spiked drinks or jail sentences for insulting the Thai monarchy – the dream of paradise can go sadly wrong.
This is the mission behind Zara McDermott’s programme Thailand: the Dark Side of Paradise. The star of Love Island and Made in Chelsea wants to discover what draws hundreds of thousands of young Brits to the country every year on a rite of passage that takes them from Bangkok to the party islands.
As she writes on her Instagram account, “From vagina temples to Britney karaoke in our van, to eating a cheese toastie at 2am at the full moon party on the floor in a local school, it has been truly amazing.”
But that may not be the experience of every visitor. The last time I visited Thailand I had the great fortune to be a guest of friends with deep pockets. And so I saw the capital city’s glamorous side. I lunched at the Lord Jim’s restaurant in the luxurious Mandarin Oriental hotel beside the C hao Phraya river, eating red snapper and giant tiger prawns while watching the water buses plough by, low in the fast-moving current. And we went out after dark to nicely misbehaving neighbourhoods like Thonglor, where smart speakeasy bars served mojitos as icy as the night was hot.
At some stage on that trip, I took an 80-minute plane ride south to the island of Phuket for some much needed sun, swimming and sand, while knowing that the destination had a seedy side. For all its reputation (as well as my jaded attitude to long-haul holidays), I ended up falling for Thailand as if I were abroad for the very first time.
T here was Phuket city, the local capital, where I stayed at a splendid two-room hotel called, well, 2Rooms. It had a record player and a side-street view down over tables, as well as the most delicious street food: pad Thai and the sweet southern pork stew delicacy, moo hong.
With its pastel colonial architecture, its lacy wrought iron balconies and broad grid avenues, Phuket city was a dead ringer for Penang or Saigon, and it was a pleasure to wander aimlessly from café to café. A grown-up traveller, feeling the thrill of 50-something freedom in a place slightly beyond one’s comfort zone, knowing that an expert-made espresso, a gelato and a downy bed were just around the corner.
Part of me still wants to be the naive 1980s youngster who hopped on jets, landed some[1]where in the middle of nowhere, ate cheap, dodgy dishes and drank local brews way too late in low-lit bars. But now I’m older and wiser, it’s good to know that I have found the happy medium: exotic, elegant Thailand.
IMAGE: BBC / South Shore
After-dark Bangkok with its mosaic of a million golden-lit windows in black skyscrapers is a great city to explore when you’re an older traveller. Elegant, international, equal parts gritty and groovy, it’s a little like Manhattan, a lot like Hong Kong, Kuala Lumpur or for that matter Shanghai, or any of those places far away from Europe that have sky-high modernity coupled with scurrying neighbourhoods down below.
When I was younger, I gravitated towards places I found “edgy” and “different”: manic New Delhi or the otherness of split-personality Istanbul. Now that I’m older, Bangkok is my kind of town: familiar but foreign, safe but strange, world-class yet local, with food to die(t) for. In essence, it’s a chance to dip into a place that’s elsewhere but also home.
Last time I was there, I loved walking the hot night streets of the Thai capital. Getting lost, and not particularly caring either, borne along by the neon lights and the cranking, noisy traffic, the flame-flash of the meaty street grills and the stalls selling sweet tapioca-based puddings.
Bangkok, I can safely say, is benign. The Big Mango, they call it, with a nod to New York’s Big Apple. Gilded temples with delicate pointy eaves and lily ponds to visit by day; and later, high-up cocktail bars with views of the glittery night city.
I’m so happy I made the journeys I did and managed to return safely. Because when idealis[1]tic 20-somethings travel, and unthinking older-somethings head off in search of a new, better life, they can get into all kinds of scrapes. There are those who live out their dream, while for others – whether it’s spiked drinks or jail sentences for insulting the Thai monarchy – the dream of paradise can go sadly wrong.
This is the mission behind Zara McDermott’s programme Thailand: the Dark Side of Paradise. The star of Love Island and Made in Chelsea wants to discover what draws hundreds of thousands of young Brits to the country every year on a rite of passage that takes them from Bangkok to the party islands.
As she writes on her Instagram account, “From vagina temples to Britney karaoke in our van, to eating a cheese toastie at 2am at the full moon party on the floor in a local school, it has been truly amazing.”
But that may not be the experience of every visitor. The last time I visited Thailand I had the great fortune to be a guest of friends with deep pockets. And so I saw the capital city’s glamorous side. I lunched at the Lord Jim’s restaurant in the luxurious Mandarin Oriental hotel beside the C hao Phraya river, eating red snapper and giant tiger prawns while watching the water buses plough by, low in the fast-moving current. And we went out after dark to nicely misbehaving neighbourhoods like Thonglor, where smart speakeasy bars served mojitos as icy as the night was hot.
At some stage on that trip, I took an 80-minute plane ride south to the island of Phuket for some much needed sun, swimming and sand, while knowing that the destination had a seedy side. For all its reputation (as well as my jaded attitude to long-haul holidays), I ended up falling for Thailand as if I were abroad for the very first time.
T here was Phuket city, the local capital, where I stayed at a splendid two-room hotel called, well, 2Rooms. It had a record player and a side-street view down over tables, as well as the most delicious street food: pad Thai and the sweet southern pork stew delicacy, moo hong.
With its pastel colonial architecture, its lacy wrought iron balconies and broad grid avenues, Phuket city was a dead ringer for Penang or Saigon, and it was a pleasure to wander aimlessly from café to café. A grown-up traveller, feeling the thrill of 50-something freedom in a place slightly beyond one’s comfort zone, knowing that an expert-made espresso, a gelato and a downy bed were just around the corner.
Part of me still wants to be the naive 1980s youngster who hopped on jets, landed some[1]where in the middle of nowhere, ate cheap, dodgy dishes and drank local brews way too late in low-lit bars. But now I’m older and wiser, it’s good to know that I have found the happy medium: exotic, elegant Thailand.