Visiting the Four Seasons Koh Samui is like being dropped in the middle of the hit TV show, but it comes at a (hefty) price.
I was recently visiting a fancy beachfront resort when, while being escorted to my villa, the manager described the property as “like the White Lotus but with no murder.” This was not the first time I had heard that. Since the hit television show premiered in 2021, calling something “a White Lotus” has become shorthand for a type of uber-luxurious hotel, usually but not exclusively of the beachfront varietal, where the veneer of privacy is paramount, no whim is left unserved, and no detail is overlooked. There is no White Lotus of Pacoima; these are aspirational locations with white-glove service and price tags that can reach into the hundreds of thousands of dollars. Hotels around the world are hoping to harness a piece of the phenomenon (not to mention the spike in tourism money), and it’s spurring a kind of luxury-hotel arms race to see who can out-Lotus each other.
The thing is, the White Lotus resorts on the show are fictional. They represent a type of vacation porn, giving us a peek behind the curtain to the kind of lavish gold-key travel that many of us may never actually experience. But I’ve been thinking, what would it be like to actually live in the White Lotus? To find out, there was only one place I could go: the Four Seasons Koh Samui, the actual resort where most of season 3 was filmed, to find out just how White Lotus-y I could get. Just, you know, without the murder.
Garrett Munce
A bird’s-eye view of the Four Seasons Resort Koh Samui.
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“Sawatdee Ka, Welcome to the White Lotus in Thailand”
There’s a reason why this season of The White Lotus is set where it is. There is perhaps no better place to explore themes of spirituality and wellness than Thailand, which has a culture deeply rooted in both. After all, one of the biggest cultural exports of the country is a massage technique. For generations, travelers have flocked to the Southeast Asian locale for meditation, yoga, Buddhist enlightenment, and, yes, epic Thai massages (the kind that leaves you twisted into a pretzel and feeling like you’re in a whole new body). The country is spattered with wellness centers, yoga retreats, backpacker camps, rehabs, and temples. It’s no surprise that White Lotus creator Mike White set this season’s investigation (and potential skewering) of wellness culture on the island of Koh Samui, which is situated in the Gulf of Thailand and is the luxe neighbor to Koh Phangan, an island known for its hippie backpacker culture and debaucherous Full Moon parties.
As a “wellness person” who has been to dozens of such retreats as depicted in The White Lotus, at various levels of intensity and luxury, it’s been funny to watch this season and the characters’ different degrees of comfort with the wellness scene (there are always a few people who put up a fight, no matter how much they are paying). While the White Lotus Thailand is styled as the ultimate wellness resort, the actual Four Seasons Koh Samui is not quite as intense. So let’s get a few things out of the way first. There is no biometrics test upon checking in. There is no semi-optional requirement to relinquish your phone for the sake of digital detoxing. There is WiFi. There are no “health mentors.” There are no monkeys watching your every move from the trees, though the resort is peppered with monkey art and sculptures nearly everywhere you look.
Still, wellness is everywhere you turn. Upon arrival after roughly 24 hours of travel from my home in New York City, when I should have been exhausted, I felt a huge energy shift as soon as I set foot on the property. It was intensely calm but crackling with what I can only describe as vibes. The soft breeze, scented with jasmine, washed away any traces of canned airplane air that still stuck to my skin. Even the sticky humidity felt fresh. Later, I would learn that the design of the property is perfect feng shui, capturing the energy of the cleansing ocean waves into a type of vortex of chillness that swirls up the surrounding hills. Like I said, vibes.
Garrett Munce
Residence Nine as seen from the private pool.
“It’s perfect, I have my own pool”
Covering 43 acres of jungle hillside, the Four Seasons Koh Samui is the most luxurious resort on an island full of insanely luxurious resorts. From the hilltop check-in desk, the property looks like a village, each building seamlessly blending into the twin slopes that meet at the 1,400-square-meter private beach. Each of the 60 guest suites is its own stand-alone villa with a private pool and starts at $2,000 a night. There are also ten multiroom residences with three, four, or five private bedroom suites arranged around a central building that houses a living room and multiple outdoor living spaces. The residences are literal mansions that all have their own pools, of course, and also come with a live-in butler, daily massages, an optional chef-in-residence and a plethora of private activities (think an in-house catered barbecue night, guided sound baths, and more). Those residences will run you between $10,000 and $15,000 a night depending on the season—and they were all booked. One by me.
The characters in The White Lotus all stay in the residences, so naturally, I had to as well. I ended up in Residence Nine, the 12,572-square-foot site of the toxic “longtime” frenemy girls trip. My suite, which was revealed in episode 2 to be where Independent-voting Austin socialite Kate stays, was off to the side of the main building, featured its own even more private pool, and was larger than my New York City apartment. Each of the three rooms had floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors to make sure I didn’t miss one second of the epic view, and the humongous bed had, of course, a Four Seasons signature mattress, which never fails to give me some of the best sleep of my life. (Seriously, you can even buy one for your home, which I’ve thought about several times.) My favorite part, however, was the most insane bathtub I have ever seen. Not only was it made from terrazzo marble crafted into the shape of a large egg, but it was one of the only tubs I have ever encountered that could completely cradle my six-foot-three, 210-pound frame as if I were a tiny baby, with ample room left over.
The design of the residence, like all the others, is more simplistic than what you see on TV. They’re designed with dark wood carved with Thai flourishes and a lot of glass to let the surrounding jungle and miles-long view speak for itself. It has the feeling of indoor-outdoor living, if the outdoors were air-conditioned. It’s also in the main building where Jah, our butler, lived while on duty. Jah’s job, which she did with sunny positivity, was to make sure I wanted for nothing. By the second day, she knew I would want coffee when I came from the gym—as well as another to take back to my room while I showered. She knew my schedule by heart, even when it changed on a whim, and always had a buggy (what they called the golf carts) ready to take me wherever I needed to go. Every time I came back to my room, even if I was gone for just a couple of hours, she’d tidied it up. I’m sure she would have gotten me a blender for my protein shakes if I’d ever been able to figure out how to travel with protein powder without being stopped by TSA. (Saxon Ratliff, what’s your secret?)
Truthfully, it was a little awkward for me at first. I, unlike the characters in The White Lotus, am not used to having someone do these sorts of things for me. But let me tell you, it’s wild how quickly you get used to someone taking care of everything. Though I still found myself sneaking out of my suite at 6:00 A.M. on the way to the gym as if I was going to wake her. (Spoiler: She was already up—probably brewing my coffee.)
Garrett Munce
Inside one of the treatment rooms.
“Maybe you should get a facial! The lady at the airport thought you were my dad.”
Each of my days started with a workout at the small but well-appointed hilltop gym, which was like lifting weights in a treehouse. One day, I followed my workout with a Muay Thai lesson at the ring next door. The lesson was taught by Aan Deesamer, a street fighter turned three-time Muay Thai champion who delivered withering burns about my skill level with a smile and wink. It was humbling to have my ass handed to me by a man half my size, but let’s chalk it up to personal growth. When in Thailand, am I right?
Of course, the centerpiece of any wellness resort is always the spa. Interestingly, the spa you see in this season of The White Lotus is not the real spa at the Four Seasons Koh Samui, but the resort’s Secret Garden spa has a similar vibe—just without the ponds. It’s made up of five treatment rooms, each housed in its own cottage, sprinkled throughout the jungle. Walking through the spa from the reception area has the feeling of strolling through the rainforest, each cottage completely hidden by the foliage and connected by rambling plank walkways.
Garrett Munce
The Secret Garden Spa at the Four Seasons Resort Koh Samui.
In the show, the characters go through a variety of spa treatments, from your classic massages to stress-management meditation classes and posture-correcting sessions. Most of these are available in real life, and my goal was to get as close as I possibly could to what the characters on the show receive. First was the Siam Fusion treatment, a type of hybrid massage that perfectly balanced relaxing oiled-up massage with more active stretches similar to what you’d get in a traditional Thai variety. Before long, lying face down on the massage table, I drifted in and out of consciousness despite the fairly intense pressure. Scheduling this the day after I arrived was a stroke of genius, if I do say so myself, since all traces of cramped long-haul plane travel had left my body by the time I walked through the forest back to the main building.
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While the spa doesn’t offer “stress-management sessions,” they do offer a variety of energy-healing sessions, as well as group chants, meditation, and yoga. I booked a Reiki session with Reiki master Ronan Cullen, an Irish expat who has been living in Thailand for 19 years and whom Parker Posey became so besotted with that she not only received routine treatments from him while filming but regularly comes back to Thailand to benefit from his expertise. (He was seeing her the next day, in fact.) Like many forms of energy healing, Reiki is completely dependent on the practitioner. I’ve done it several times before to various degrees of success. At the hands of Cullen, I was conscious the whole time and completely in tune with what was happening to my body. When he placed his hands on my head, my body subtly shuddered back and forth as if he was pushing and pulling it. (He wasn’t.) At another point during the treatment, I felt energy build up in my hands, making them go completely numb to the point of being almost painful. Then, with a subtle shift in his hands, all the pressure released, as if I were shooting laser beams out of them like in a Marvel movie. When I told him about it afterward, he nodded knowingly. “Sometimes that can happen,” he said serenely, like it was the most normal thing in the world. I immediately followed my Reiki session with a group sound bath, which I thought would lull me to sleep. Instead, I felt energized, so much so that I had a hard time focusing on the trancelike singing bowls and meditative gongs. Energy work can have a different effect on everyone depending on what they need at that moment—and for me, I guess I needed my energy to be pumped up.
Garrett Munce
The view from breakfast.
“Gluten-free rice and coconut balls?”
An important piece of the puzzle to the White Lotus life is obviously the food. On the show, just like in the real-life versions of this type of luxury resort, everyone tends to eat semi-communally, at resort restaurants where everyone pretends not to know each other but also can’t help but notice everyone around them. The breakfast restaurant as featured in The White Lotus is exactly how it is in real life. Perched high atop one of the hills, Koh Thai Restaurant features not only a bird’s-eye view of the entire property but also one of the most epic breakfast buffets I’ve ever seen; I started every day with a wild combination of Western and Thai cuisine. Truly, if you haven’t started your day with freshly made pad thai, you haven’t lived.
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The “fat farm” food that Rick bemoans in episode 1 does exist there, if you want it, but I sure didn’t. Not when incredible Thai food is available, like what Victoria Ratliff orders to her villa in episode 2 (shout out to Gaeng Poo Bai Cha Plu and Pad Thai Goong Mae Nam), and you can even get it delivered to your suite at pretty much any hour of the day. And just in case you forget where you are, the poolside bar that Saxon Ratliff relentlessly cruises not only looks exactly as it does on television but also has been rebranded as the White Lotus Bar, complete with the signage left over from filming, where you can order cocktails inspired by the show.
Garrett Munce
The writer with Thai dancers during the private poolside barbecue night.
While the dinner restaurant as seen on TV is not actually the Four Seasons, and the nightly staff performances are fictional, there is a weekly Fisherman’s Night held on the beach. Think of it as a cross between a wedding reception and a food market. Once a week, the resort’s beach is transformed to house at least a dozen stalls, each serving up its own cuisine, from sushi and traditional Thai dishes to freshly caught and grilled seafood, Wagyu steak, and the highest concentration of delicate pastries that I’ve ever seen. Tables pepper the sand and can be reserved by guests or can be communal based on your desire to mingle. And yes, there’s even a band and a fire-twirling show.
Another night, we took advantage of our residence and opted for the private barbecue. Led by our butler, Jah, the poolside of our villa was transformed to hold a buffet of southern Thai delicacies, our own bar and bartender, and live musicians. During the dinner, we were treated to traditional Thai dancers, which is an option for anyone staying at the residences, though “they rarely take advantage of it,” resort manager Hannes Schneider told me. I’m not sure why—if you’re going to live the White Lotus life, I say go all in.
Garrett Munce
BKK Social Club, the bar at the Four Seasons Bangkok.
“I gotta go to Bangkok for a couple of days”
Koh Samui may be the centerpiece of this season of The White Lotus, but it’s just one of four Four Seasons properties in Thailand. From Koh Samui, I flew to Bangkok and the sleek, sexy, and modern Four Seasons Bangkok at Chao Phraya River, where they didn’t film any of the show but they did hold the premiere. From there I went north to the Four Seasons Chiang Mai. The oldest of the Thailand properties, it’s built on 32 acres of former rice paddies and has a similar vibe to Koh Samui’s, without the beach. Most of the rooms are housed in two-story villas, four rooms per building, with a separate section of residences. And if we’re talking wellness, it’s a destination unto itself.
Perhaps it’s the change in landscape, the northern Thai Lanna architecture, or the sprawling Buddhist temple just ten minutes away, but the Chiang Mai resort feels even more Zen than Koh Samui. The spa is massive and feels like you’re getting rubbed down in a palace. My Rose of the North treatment, inspired by the special rose that comes from the region, featured a body scrub, a floral bath (in another epic tub), and an oiled-up massage that left me feeling like putty. The Thai massage I received the next day was so toe-curlingly effective that I’m pretty sure my grunts of relief could be heard for miles.
Garrett Munce
Sunset at the Four Seasons Chiang Mai.
I also had another, albeit entirely different, Reiki session, this time on a crystal bed. (The crystals are sea salt, which helps to cleanse but also amplify energy.) As soon as wellness manager Dheeraj Singh Patwal set a singing bowl on my sternum, I was plunged into a trancelike state of semiconsciousness where I could feel what was going on but could not control my body. I felt my body jerk and quake wildly but was completely okay with it as I drifted in and out of twilight half sleep. When he ended the session, even he was surprised. “I want you to tell me what you felt before I tell you what I saw,” he said to me wide-eyed as he offered me tea. I felt on the verge of tears, as if a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying had been lifted. I won’t go into the personal particulars of what he told me, but let’s just say sometimes it’s good to talk about things with a wise Indian person, as Chelsea sagely says to Rick in episode 2.
Garrett Munce
Thankfully, the only floating body the author encountered was their own.
“Can you remember a time in your life when you were totally free of stress?”
It’s nearly impossible to forget that you’re not at the White Lotus when staying at the Four Seasons Koh Samui—and it’s not just because of the co-branded White Lotus bar or the specialty cocktail menu or the limited-edition collab merch. (I’ll be wearing my White Lotus baseball cap on my deathbed.) It’s so immersive that while I was there, another guest messaged JJ Assi, the resort’s gregarious general manager, requesting a spa treatment from Belinda, Natasha Rothwell’s spa-manager character on the show. “How do I tell them she’s not real?” he half lamented, half chuckled. I didn’t know what to say because, well, part of me believed he could actually make it happen.
It’s not lost on me that at its core, The White Lotus is a critique of, if not these types of resorts, at least the kind of ultra-wealthy guests they attract. Much of the comedy and tension comes from how out of touch these characters can be—with themselves, each other, the world around them—and their contrast with the locals. I spent a lot of time thanking the staff and trying to do things myself, as if attempting to communicate that I was not one of those people. There’s a type of seductive bubble that these ultra-luxe resorts create that insulates you from the realities of everyday life.
However, since we’re talking about wellness, living temporarily in a bubble isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s why things like wellness retreats exist, so that you can leave behind the struggles of your daily life to focus on yourself for a certain amount of time. And nothing creates a bubble like luxury. Even though I was at the Four Seasons “for work,” I found that my stress level naturally declined despite still being on the clock and as my days fell into an easy routine made up of only what I wanted to do (work out, eat, get spa treatments, wear a swimsuit), I felt my cortisol levels dip lower than they had in months—even when I woke up to hundreds of emails thanks to the 12-hour time difference. Where The White Lotus slowly builds drama to a fever pitch, my stay at the Four Seasons Koh Samui had the opposite effect. Thankfully, the only floating body I encountered was my own—in my villa’s pool. And I was very much alive.
