所谓常客｜十年之后，我们在富国岛重逢

Flyerlife所谓常客｜十年之后，我们在富国岛重逢

富国岛丽晶酒店

REGENT PHU QUOC

如果说富国岛翡翠湾JW万豪是这几年社交媒体上的宠儿，那么富国岛丽晶更像一位低调的贵族。

JW万豪是一场华丽的舞台剧。Bill Bensley创造的Lamarck University让每一个来到这里的人都忍不住举起手机，沉浸在那个虚构而浪漫的世界里。而丽晶则完全不同，它没有刻意制造话题，也没有试图用设计讲述一个惊天动地的故事。它只是安静地坐落在长长的白色海滩旁，像那些真正见过世面的老钱家族一样，从不需要向别人证明什么。

这也是为什么，当我再次来到富国岛时，最期待的并不是酒店本身，而是见到一位十年未见的老朋友——富国岛丽晶总经理Juan Losada。

第一次认识Juan还是在十年前的岘港太阳半岛洲际。那是一个属于东南亚奢华酒店的黄金时代，也是许多人认识IHG奢华品牌的起点。后来他离开亚洲回到欧洲，我们也渐渐失去了见面的机会。直到这次在富国岛重逢，时间仿佛突然被拉回了十年前。

抵达酒店当晚，Juan邀请我们参加欢迎酒会。地点并不是酒吧或者宴会厅，而是酒店最大的海滩别墅。夕阳缓缓沉入暹罗湾，草坪一直延伸到海边，香槟杯中的气泡在晚霞下闪着金色的光。这样的场景其实很符合Juan给人的感觉，没有刻意设计的仪式感，却有一种令人舒服的从容。

聊天时，我问他为什么会再次回到越南。毕竟离开亚洲多年之后，大多数人都会选择留在欧洲。Juan笑着说，有一天晚上他和太太一起吃饭，聊起过去在亚洲生活的日子。从岘港到曼谷，从新加坡到胡志明市，他们忽然发现自己怀念的并不是某个城市，而是整个亚洲。怀念深夜街头热气腾腾的河粉，怀念刚刚出炉的法棍，怀念路边摊永远热闹的人群，也怀念那些让人上瘾的香料味道。聊着聊着，两个人几乎同时做出了决定——回来。于是Juan重新回到越南，也回到了自己曾经参与筹开的富国岛丽晶，重新开启属于自己的东南亚故事。

某种程度上，这个故事和丽晶这个品牌本身很像。经历过辉煌，也经历过沉淀，然后以更加成熟的姿态重新回到舞台中央。

这次入住的是酒店最具代表性的天空泳池别墅。很多奢华酒店喜欢用面积来定义旗舰房型，但真正走进这间别墅时，最打动我的反而不是数字。推开大门之后，整个空间仿佛悬浮在海岸线上方，客厅、卧室、露台与泳池自然连接在一起，视线没有任何阻挡地延伸向远方的大海。私人无边泳池与海平面几乎融为一体，白天是层层渐变的蓝色，黄昏时又被夕阳染成金色。清晨醒来，躺在床上就能看见第一缕阳光从海平面升起；夜晚回到房间，泳池倒映着星空与月光，整个世界只剩下海浪的声音。

我在露台坐了很久，什么都没做，只是看着远处的渔船慢慢划过海湾。那一刻忽然理解了为什么很多资深酒店常客会如此偏爱丽晶。它没有JW万豪那样充满戏剧性的表达，也没有刻意营造令人惊叹的瞬间，它更像一种经过时间沉淀后的优雅。你不会在离开的那一天立刻意识到它有多好，但很多个月之后，当你回想起富国岛时，脑海里出现的往往还是那个安静的早晨、那片平静的海面，以及坐在泳池边发呆的自己。

欢迎酒会结束时，Juan举起酒杯致意。海风吹过草坪，远处别墅的灯光陆续亮起。我忽然觉得，对于一个酒店常客来说，最幸运的事情或许并不是住进多少旗舰套房，而是在不断出发与抵达的旅途中，总能遇见那些熟悉的人。从十年前的岘港洲际，到今天的富国岛丽晶；从年轻时对奢华酒店的好奇，到如今对于旅行本身的理解，改变的是时间和身份，没有改变的，是那些让人愿意一次次回到亚洲的理由。

有些人离开了很多年，却始终属于这里；有些酒店第一次入住，却像认识了很久。富国岛丽晶，大概就是这样的地方。

致老朋友 Juan Losada，欢迎回到亚洲。

Ten Yeasr Later, We Meet In Phu Quoc

If JW Marriott Phu Quoc Emerald Bay has become the darling of social media over the past few years, then Regent Phu Quoc feels more like an understated aristocrat.

JW Marriott is a grand theatrical production. Bill Bensley’s fictional Lamarck University invites every guest into a carefully crafted world where imagination and reality blur together. Regent, on the other hand, takes a completely different approach. It does not try to impress with elaborate narratives or attention-grabbing concepts. Instead, it sits quietly along a stretch of pristine white sand, carrying itself with the confidence of old money—never needing to prove its worth to anyone.

Perhaps that is why, when I returned to Phu Quoc, the hotel itself was not what I was most looking forward to. What excited me most was the chance to see an old friend I had not met in more than a decade: Juan Losada, General Manager of Regent Phu Quoc.

I first met Juan ten years ago at InterContinental Danang Sun Peninsula Resort. Those were the golden years of luxury hospitality in Southeast Asia and, for many travellers, their first introduction to the world of IHG luxury. Eventually Juan left Asia and returned to Europe, and like many friendships formed on the road, our paths gradually drifted apart. Until this trip. The moment we met again in Phu Quoc, it felt as though the past ten years had quietly disappeared.

On the evening of my arrival, Juan invited us to a welcome reception. Not in a ballroom, not in a bar, but in the resort’s largest beachfront villa. The sun was slowly setting over the Gulf of Thailand, the lawn stretching all the way to the sea. Champagne glasses caught the last golden light of the day, while the waves rolled gently onto the shore. It was a setting that felt remarkably similar to Juan himself—unpretentious, relaxed, yet effortlessly elegant.

During our conversation, I asked him what had brought him back to Vietnam. After all, many people who leave Asia eventually settle comfortably into life in Europe. Juan smiled and shared a story.

One evening, he and his wife were reminiscing about their years in Asia. From Danang to Phu Quoc, they realised that what they missed was not a particular city but Asia itself. They missed steaming bowls of pho on late evenings, freshly baked baguettes in the morning, bustling street food stalls, and the vibrant flavours and spices that seemed impossible to replicate elsewhere. Somewhere during that conversation, they both arrived at the same conclusion: it was time to return.

And so they did.

Juan came back to Vietnam and returned to Regent Phu Quoc, a resort he had helped bring to life from the very beginning, ready to start a new chapter in Southeast Asia once again.

In many ways, the story felt remarkably similar to Regent itself. A brand that has experienced glory, reinvention, and renewal before returning to the stage with a greater sense of confidence and maturity.

For this stay, I checked into one of the resort’s signature Sky Pool Villas. Luxury hotels often define their flagship accommodations through numbers—square metres, ceiling heights, or pool lengths—but what impressed me most had nothing to do with measurements. The moment I stepped inside, the entire villa seemed to float above the coastline. The living room, bedroom, terrace, and infinity pool flowed seamlessly into one another, while every sightline led naturally toward the sea.

The private infinity pool almost disappeared into the horizon. During the day it reflected endless shades of blue; by sunset it turned gold beneath the fading light. In the mornings, I could watch the first rays of sunlight rise over the water without leaving my bed. At night, the pool mirrored the stars above, leaving only the sound of the ocean breaking the silence.

I spent hours sitting on the terrace doing absolutely nothing—simply watching fishing boats drift slowly across the bay. It was there that I began to understand why so many seasoned travellers hold Regent in such high regard. Unlike JW Marriott, Regent does not rely on dramatic gestures or carefully choreographed moments. Its appeal lies in something far more subtle: a sense of elegance that comes only with time.

You may not fully appreciate it on the day you leave. But months later, when you think back to Phu Quoc, it is often the quiet moments that return first—the stillness of the morning sea, the soft sound of the waves, and the memory of sitting beside the pool with nowhere else to be.

As the evening reception came to an end, Juan raised his glass in a final toast. The sea breeze moved gently across the lawn while lights gradually appeared across the resort. At that moment, it occurred to me that perhaps the greatest privilege of being a frequent traveller is not the number of suites you stay in, but the people you meet along the way.

From InterContinental Danang ten years ago to Regent Phu Quoc today, much has changed. Time has passed. Careers have evolved. Perspectives have matured. Yet some things remain exactly the same—the friendships formed through travel and the reasons that keep drawing us back to Asia, again and again.

Some people leave for many years, yet somehow still belong here.

Some hotels feel familiar from the very first stay.

Regent Phu Quoc is one of those places.

To my old friend, Juan Losada— Welcome back to Asia.