Our Story
Our story
About twenty years ago, we came to Phu Quoc not knowing what to expect. The island was wild and almost untouched: miles of empty beaches, fishing boats, and jungle-covered hills, with barely a building in sight. We found ourselves wondering what it would be like to have a home on one of its shores.
One day we rode a motorbike along the red dirt roads of the National Park to the fishing village of Ganh Dau, and stopped for lunch by the sea. Somewhere over that long, lazy meal, we almost forgot about our city jobs back in London. Almost.
Afterwards we got talking to a local man outside his house, with Cambodia just visible across the water. One conversation led to another, and we asked whether he knew anyone who might sell their land. As it happened, he did: himself. We all smiled.
I built Peppercorn Beach brick by brick, with local workmen and, wherever I could, local materials, like the timber furniture you'll find in the rooms. I shaped it slowly, learning to run a small hotel as I went. Years in banking had prepared me for spreadsheets, not for monsoon season. The rest came in the spirit of kaizen: small improvements, hard lessons, and a great deal of listening to our guests.
It took fourteen years of dust, decisions, setbacks, and long days on site. More than once, I thought about selling. I never did. I couldn't tell you exactly why, except that it's a work in progress, like me. Through all of it, my aim was to keep what I fell in love with that first afternoon: the quiet, the turquoise water, and a long lunch that made everything else feel far away.
When the setting is this beautiful, nothing needs adding. I wanted Peppercorn Beach to respect the land and the village around it, to serve simple, seasonal food, to know its guests by name, and to feel like a home rather than a hotel.
Today a member of my family manages the resort with a small, devoted team. Many started with us young and now have families of their own; you'll often see their children in reception or the restaurant.
I set out to build somewhere peaceful. I didn't expect it to become part of so many lives, including ours. Every season brings new guests and familiar faces, some who first came more than ten years ago, now with children and extended families of their own. And the moments stay, some of them still hanging on our walls.
— Camlinh, founder


