This isn't exactly strange or very remote but I think it fits the bill. I had just arrived in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania and started making my way to a "cool hidden beach campsite off the tourist trail" somebody recommended to me.

"Nobody knows about this place, it's not in the Lonely Planet books" etc. etc.

It was a bit of a trek to get there - had to take a taxi and a tuk tuk through polluted streets and then a dangerously overloaded ferry and then another tuk tuk.

The campsite did seem off the tourist trail - secluded, quiet, away from the city, right on the white sand turquoise water beach - ticked all the boxes. There were a few hammocks tied onto the palm trees dotted around the premises and the bar/reception was a thatched structure with no walls, so there was a nice tropical breeze flowing through and from the bar you could hear the sound of waves breaking gently in the background. There were no other tourists there. The place was totally empty.

I ordered a beer and checked my phone for a while, then turned around to admire the sea and saw a ginger guy standing beside me, burnt to an absolute crisp and wearing a football jersey. I asked him where's he's from. He said Mayo. What the fuck. He also got a beer then we started drinking. For like a week.