THE ROAD TO MYANMAR
THAILAND (6) 1,099 Km - 29 Days12 September - 10 October 2015
MAP
PHOTOS
Prelude
Before the road
Some journeys begin with a ticket, a timetable, or a carefully plotted route. This one began with restlessness—an itch between the shoulders that no amount of planning could soothe. There was no grand announcement, no dramatic farewell. Just a bicycle, a border ahead, and a quiet understanding that staying still was no longer an option.
The road does not ask who you are. It does not care where you came from, what you left behind, or what you think you know. It offers the same bargain to everyone: forward motion in exchange for discomfort, uncertainty, and the occasional moment of grace. To travel by bicycle is to accept this bargain fully—no shortcuts, no distance softened by glass windows or air-conditioning. Every kilometre is earned. Every mistake is felt.
11 September - Guran, Malaysia to Sadao, Thailand (105 km)
As I embraced my final day cycling through Malaysia, the rain finally relented, unveiling a stunning blue sky that painted the landscape with vibrant hues. I opted for a minor road, a scenic alternative to the bustling main route, allowing me to immerse myself fully in the beauty around me. The aftermath of the past rainy days revealed a lush, green countryside sprinkled with shimmering flooded rice paddies, a sight that took my breath away with each pedal stroke.
Navigating northward towards the Malaysia-Thailand border, I encountered an unexpected twist. The crossing proved quite a challenge, as I found myself with both my old and new passports, which confused the Thai authorities. To make matters more complicated, they required me to show proof of having 20,000 Thai baht in cash, dismissing bank statements entirely. I had to make an impromptu visit to the bank, quickly withdrawing the needed funds to comply with their requests. Thankfully, after explaining that I was journeying by bicycle, the pressure eased, and I was spared the need for a return ticket. By the time all was sorted, evening was upon me, prompting a decision to spend the night in Sadao.
12 September - Thailand/Malaysia Border to Hat Yai (60 km)
The next morning, only sixty kilometres separated me from Hat Yai, and I decided to take it slow. The city welcomed me with open arms, and I settled in, enjoying some well-deserved downtime. I spent time catching up online, but, to my dismay, I accidentally deleted my entire Flickr account. The shock hit hard, not because I shared my photos there, but because it served as my digital storage. After processing the blow, I connected with my friend Lois, and we made exciting plans to meet up in Bangkok.
13 September - Hat Yai to Patthulung (97 km)
Continuing my northward journey towards Bangkok, the day unfolded with a delightful surprise. As I cycled along, two young locals on a scooter stopped to offer me a chilled 100Plus sports drink. Their spontaneous kindness touched my heart and perfectly captured the warm spirit of the Thai people, who are always eager to share what little they have.
The ride was a feast for the senses, with vibrant fruit stalls lining the road, each bursting with a mouthwatering array of tropical treats. Along the way, I was mesmerised by the intricate designs of Buddhist temples that seemed to emerge like jewels from the landscape. I tried my hand at capturing these moments in short video clips, but found it trickier than I had anticipated. So, I decided to stick to still photographs, each one telling the story of this remarkable adventure.
14 September - Patthalung to Thung Song (97 km)
As I pedalled along Route 41, I stumbled upon a delightful roadside gem aptly named “Route 41.” Its inviting ambience beckoned me for a much-needed brunch. The warmth of the people here was infectious, and I struck up a lovely conversation with the owner. This talented photographer generously gifted me a stunning postcard book of his work.
Even though I felt a bit sluggish, the overcast skies provided a perfect backdrop for cycling. The humid air seemed to lift as I rode on, but after a hearty breakfast, my energy noticeably dipped. When I finally pulled into the quaint settlement of Thung Song, I realised it was time to call it a day. Luckily, I discovered a cosy budget hotel with spacious, sunlit rooms that provided just the right amount of ground-floor space for my bike.
15-16 September - Thung Song to Ban Tha Rua (Surat Thani intersection) (108 km)
On the next leg of my journey, I couldn't shake the feeling that my pace was slowing significantly. It hit me like a bolt out of the blue: I had already cycled over 1,000 kilometres without a single rest day! The excitement of the ride was tempered by persistent rain showers that day; I ducked into shelter for about an hour, waiting for the storm to pass before pressing on. My day ended at the Surat Thani intersection, where I found an inviting place to stay right next to a petrol station—definitely a practical stop after a gruelling day.
17 September - Ban Tha Rua to Bamboo Hotel (30 km)
Seeing a break in the weather, I quickly packed up and set off from Surat Thani. But just as my spirits lifted, another storm rolled in, prompting a desperate battle with the elements. I fought through the rain, but when I arrived at a petrol station offering a comfy room, I didn’t hesitate to pull in and escape the deluge.
18 September - Bamboo Hotel to Roadside Cottage (90 km)
With the forecast promising only three hours of cloudy skies before more thunderstorms, I was up early and on my bike, eager to make the most of the day. Midway through my ride, a sign for a nearby spa caught my eye, and I couldn’t resist the temptation. Hidden away in a forest, the baths were a serene oasis, but I couldn’t linger long. Nature had other plans, and before long, the skies opened up.
Miraculously, I managed to cycle most of the route without getting drenched. Just as I pulled into a 24-hour joint, the heavens truly opened. To my delight, this place turned out to be a charming little haven featuring cosy bungalows at reasonable rates. I didn’t hesitate to negotiate a price—I was grateful to unload my soaking wet gear in the comfort of a cottage. They had a little shop laden with essentials: cup noodles, chilled beer, and crisps—everything I could wish for after a long day's ride. Life on the road truly has its perks!
19 September - Roadside Cottage to Chumphon (90 km)
The looming threat of thunderstorms didn’t dampen my spirits as I pedalled as a woman possessed towards Chumphon. Beneath a sky heavy with rain clouds, I cycled nonstop, skipping the usual sightseeing in my pursuit. The rainy season had wholly transformed the landscape; rivers overflowed, and drains were choked with debris, making every house not perched on stilts seem at risk of being swallowed by the rising waters.
Just before the rain finally hit, I rolled into Chumphon and sought refuge at The Farang Bar. The atmosphere felt quieter than my memories, but the charm of this cosy spot with its affordable food and drinks hadn’t faded. It was the perfect haven to unwind, shielded from the brewing storm outside.
20 September - Chumphon to Nipa Beach Bungalow (110 km)
After covering about twenty kilometres, I finally succumbed to my fatigue and stopped for breakfast. Yet, the breathtaking views of the Gulf of Thailand rejuvenated my weary spirit. I couldn't help but feel exhilarated as I continued my ride through such stunning scenery.
As if the universe knew I needed a boost, I unexpectedly crossed paths with fellow cycle tourists for the first time in months. They were racing against the clock to exit the country before their visas expired. We shared stories and tips like long-lost friends before we parted ways, sending me off with a renewed sense of adventure. As I neared the turnoff to Nipa Beach Bungalows, a wave of satisfaction washed over me—it felt great to call it a day.
21-22 September - Nipa Beach Bungalow to Prachuap Khiri Khan (100 km)
The following morning greeted me with a sweltering heat wave, the temperature soaring back into the mid-30s after a refreshing dip the previous day. Even the snakes were out to bask in the sun, and I kept a keen eye on my surroundings, careful not to disturb any of them. The ride to Prachuap was uneventful, but the scenery still captivated me as I nestled into Maggie's Homestay for the night.
Waking up the next morning, I found myself tempted to pull the blanket over my head and drift back to sleep. A message from Lois arrived, regrettably announcing she couldn’t join me for our planned rendezvous in Thailand. I took the opportunity to set up a new blog since I couldn’t access the old one without my original phone number, but aside from that, my days turned pleasantly lazy and uneventful.
23-24 September – Prachuap Khiri Khan to Hua Hin (101 km)
The day sped by as I caught a delightful tailwind. Hua Hin, a vibrant holiday resort, buzzed with life, particularly among long-term Western residents. The narrow lanes snaking from the main road to the ocean brimmed with Western restaurants and bustling bars, all thrumming with the chatter of older European men proudly flaunting their Thai companions.
I opted for basic accommodation perched on stilts over the water, and extending my stay felt like a no-brainer. Unfortunately, the weather had other plans; rain fell relentlessly for most of my visit. Still, I found solace in my snug little room, comforted by the sound of rain outside and soaked in the peaceful atmosphere, while the world outside was lost in a downpour.
25 September - Hua Hin to Samut Songkhram (118 km)
The journey from Hua Hin to Samut Songkhram turned out to be a delightful escape. With the sun shining and a gentle breeze at my back, I pedalled along serene country lanes that seemed to beckon me forward. The route wound gracefully beside a sparkling river and through vibrant green rice paddies, where the golden hues of the crops danced in the wind. Majestic temples, awash in brilliant colours, punctuated the landscape, and quaint fishing communities lined the path, their one-lane streets alive with the dreams of local fishermen. Colourful boats bobbed lazily against the shore while sleepy dogs lounged around, barely bothering to raise their heads as I passed.
I realised how unusual it was to see a foreign woman on a bicycle here; villagers greeted me with warm smiles, and children on their own bikes raced after me, giggling with excitement. A few locals seemed a touch wary, their curious gazes tracking my every move, but their interest only added to the charm of my ride. By the time I arrived in Samut Songkhram, the food stalls were setting up, filling the air with mouthwatering aromas.
I settled into Hometown Hostel, a cosy, budget-friendly spot where the tiny rooms were all mine, offering solitude in an otherwise bustling area. The streets buzzed with energy as vendors displayed their tantalising dishes, creating a delightful feast for both the eyes and the stomach.
26 September – Samut Songkhram to Bangkok (98 km)
Determined to savour the journey, I opted for village lanes over the main road on my way to Bangkok. These winding paths transformed my ride into a tapestry of experiences. Each turn revealed villagers calling out “Hello, farang!” and I found myself surrounded by an array of vibrant food carts that tempted me at every stop. One quirky discovery made me chuckle: all my drinks came in handy plastic bags, making it easy to hook them onto my bicycle's handlebars as I continued my adventure.
However, the last stretch of the ride was a different story. Approaching Bangkok along the chaotic Phetkasem Road felt like navigating a maze of gridlocked traffic. Frustration mounted as I crept along; the noise and hustle were overwhelming. Then, in a stroke of luck, I stumbled upon a smaller path that led to a ferry crossing over the Chao Phraya River. The crossing itself became an entertaining exercise in balance and coordination, navigating steep stairs and jostling with fellow passengers. Thankfully, a few helpful hands made the transition smoother, and soon enough, I arrived at Peachy Guesthouse, my reliable sanctuary in the heart of Bangkok.
27 September - Bangkok
With grand plans to cycle from Thailand to India via Myanmar, I took a much-needed respite on this sunny Sunday. It felt good to slow down; no pedals spinning, just quiet reflection. I ventured to the Indian Embassy but discovered I would need to wait a full nine working days for my visa processing. A wave of realisation washed over me: I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Bangkok, with its vibrant streets and endless discoveries, welcomed me to linger a little longer as I adjusted my plans.
28 September – 2 October - Bangkok
The sun had barely risen on Monday when I found myself at the Indian embassy, application in hand and excitement in my heart. However, my enthusiasm was swiftly crushed—the rules had changed! Apparently, foreigners could no longer apply in Bangkok. Can you believe it? My disbelief was compounded by my earlier check of the embassy’s website, which confidently proclaimed, “Your application was successfully submitted.” To my pea-sized brain, that meant everything was set. But then again, arguing with embassy staff is like debating a brick wall.
Determined to shake off the frustration, I opted for a stroll back to my guesthouse instead of catching a bus. This way, I could soak in the city's vibrant pulse and capture a few snapshots of daily life in Bangkok. However, fate had other plans; during my walk, I lost my lens cap to the river. This darn blood moon in Aries wasn’t doing me any favours, that’s for sure.
After a quick chat with the Indian Visa Centre in Kuala Lumpur, I discovered that foreigners could still apply in Malaysia. My annoyance boiled over—why didn’t I think of applying from Peter’s place on the outskirts of Kuala Lumpur? Instead, I was restless and itching to move forward. A second call to Kuala Lumpur further muddied the waters with a vague, “You can apply, but you have a 50/50 chance.” Seriously? I was expecting a straightforward “Yes” or “No.” Thankfully, the Indian embassy in Myanmar proved to be a beacon of clarity, confirming that I could apply in Yangon. Perfect! I was heading to Myanmar anyway.
Oh, Bangkok, how I adore you! Your chaotic charm captivates me. Where else can you hop onto a water taxi and, minutes later, be whisked away on a Skytrain to the buzzing CBD? A short stroll from those gleaming skyscrapers brings me to a world of stilt houses precariously perched over the river, a reminder that life here thrives on its waterways. Here, old temples and ancient structures coexist with modernity, the river weaving a narrative that connects them all. The sight of longtail boats darting through the water, hunting for tourists, always brings a smile to my face. And the eclectic mix of pierced, dreadlocked, and tattooed farangs? I could easily lose track of time, soaking it all in.
3 October - Bangkok
Today was a rollercoaster of emotions, starting with what I thought would be a simple haircut. Little did I know that my trip to the salon would end in an utter disaster, leaving me with barely enough hair left to consider extensions. After that ordeal, I decided it was best to chill out for the rest of the day.
But as the sun dipped below the horizon, courage bubbled within me again. Armed with my tripod, I set out for a leisurely walk. To my surprise, Wat Po, home to the magnificent reclining Buddha, was open! While the main temple was closed, the grounds were still accessible. With hardly a soul around, I had the privilege of exploring the breathtaking temples completely alone. The serenity of the place wrapped around me like a warm blanket.
I had been procrastinating for an entire week about taking my bicycle in for a service. After over 8000 kilometres on the same chain and cogs, I realised it was high time for a check-up before I continued my adventure to Myanmar and, eventually, India. The journey awaits—onward to new experiences!
4-7 October - Bangkok
Operating in low gear, I found myself in a slight lull while my Myanmar visa was being processed. To pass the time, I decided to cycle over to Bok-Bok Bike and leave my trusty steed in their capable hands. With my bike secured, I embarked on an adventure through the winding alleys of Bangkok’s ancient klongs and canals, where history whispers from the water.
As I meandered along these historic waterways—many of which have been swallowed by modern development—I stumbled upon vibrant life. Here, families bustled about, trading, socialising, and handling their daily business amidst a tapestry of sights and sounds. Navigating through narrow doorways, I ducked and weaved, stepping over shoes and sidestepping clucking chickens, all while marvelling at the hidden gems awaiting discovery. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the aromas of street food, the chatter of locals, and the occasional squawk of a bird.
Days later, I returned to the bike shop, buzzing with anticipation, only to find it shuttered. Undeterred, I continued my exploration and stumbled upon a fascinating scene: tradespeople laboriously crafting monks’ alms bowls. I was amazed to learn that this tradition has persisted since the 1700s! The dedication and skill displayed were nothing short of inspiring.
My journey led me through a delightful mix of traditional markets bursting with life and modern shopping malls shimmering with neon lights. Eventually, I reached the captivating Goddess Tubtim Shrine, a truly unique spot where oversized phalluses of every imaginable shape and size stood proudly on display. Each one was a testament to the belief that size does matter—even in the spirit world! Dedicated to Chao Mae Tubtim, the female fertility spirit, this shrine draws women seeking to conceive. They come with hope, and if fortune smiles upon them, they return in gratitude, adding another phallus to the shrine's eclectic collection. How wonderfully strange!
After soaking in all that wonder, I hopped aboard a canal water taxi, an adventure not for the faint-hearted! The thrill of timing my jump onto the boat as it barely paused was exhilarating—especially with my camera in hand. The ride back was a dynamic slice of life, the boat skimming over the water with a breeze in my hair.
The final stretch to my guesthouse was a madcap ride on a motorbike taxi. With my heart in my throat, I chose not to look as my driver zigzagged through Bangkok's chaotic traffic, ignoring every traffic rule in a frenzy of speed. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and completely unforgettable—a day that encapsulated the unpredictable magic of Bangkok!
8–10 October – Bangkok (38 km)
Always on the lookout for the extraordinary, I decided to investigate the hauntingly beautiful Sathorn Unique. This towering 50-storey skeleton of a building, abandoned since the 1997 economic crisis, loomed over Bangkok. Once destined to be a lavish residential complex, it now stood as a ghostly reminder of ambitious dreams gone awry.
As I wandered through its shadowy surroundings, I stumbled upon a young Australian couple who seemed equally lost in this urban labyrinth. Our unplanned adventure led us to a cordoned-off section, curious whispers bouncing off the concrete walls. Next door, a small restaurant beckoned with its garage-style roll-up door. Feeling adventurous, the Australian girl and I decided to sneak into the yard for a closer look. But just as we were getting our bearings, the restaurant owner across the way enragedly shut the door and threatened to call the police!
Panic surged as her boyfriend pleaded with the owner from inside. Yet this was my golden opportunity—I quickly pulled out my camera to capture the moment. Unfortunately, my enthusiasm didn’t sit well with the grumpy resident caretaker.
Just when it seemed our luck had run out, the Australian girl switched to fluent Thai and explained our unexpected predicament with surprising confidence. It turned out her mother was Thai! After a brief but intense negotiation, the caretaker finally relented and unlocked a side gate, granting us our freedom. As we slipped through, her boyfriend emerged from the restaurant, eyes wide in disbelief. The surprise on their faces was priceless!
The next morning, I was greeted with a persistent drizzle that soaked the streets of Bangkok. Hurrying to load my bike, I made a decisive choice to escape the city, even though I’d planned to stay an extra night. As I cycled halfway out of town, the rain eased just long enough for me to catch a bus to Mae Sot, the bustling border town separating Thailand from Myanmar. Having pedalled this route twice before, I felt no need for a third exhausting trip—especially with my clothes already splattered in mud.
With a couple of hours to kill before the 20h00 bus departure, I braced myself for a long wait. To top it off, we rolled into Mae Sot under a torrential downpour, forcing me to navigate the town’s slick streets in darkness. Soaking wet and somewhat dishevelled, I finally arrived at the Porn-The Hotel. The name drew a chuckle, but to my surprise, it turned out to be a cosy little haven.
I had mistakenly jumped the gun on my travel plans, thinking of India as just a hop away. However, reality hit: India was a daunting 1,500 kilometres away, and I still had to tackle Myanmar once more to snag my Indian visa—hopefully without losing my passport this time! With only one border crossing between Myanmar and India, located in a remote northern region, I had to secure a special permit to cross. I had heard whispers that one could acquire it in Yangon, but that felt like a mission for another day. Adventure awaited, and I was more than ready to dive in!
11 October - Maesot, Thailand to Kawkareik, Myanmar (55 km)
Today kicked off with a delightful breakfast at Krua Canadian, a cosy European restaurant run by an expat from Canada. After living in Thailand for over 17 years, the owner had a treasure trove of stories and tips. The food? Absolutely fantastic! It was just what I needed to fuel up before tackling the day ahead, especially after days of noodle soup.
With my appetite satisfied, I hopped on my bike and cycled the short distance to the border. Crossing into Myanmar was smooth and uneventful—a refreshing change! I withdrew 300,000 Burmese kyats and picked up a local SIM card, checking off those essential tasks. By the time I rolled out of the bustling town of Myawadi, the clock had already passed noon.
As I climbed into the mountains, the scenery was stunning, but the ride was trickier than I anticipated. The new road may have promised speed, but it held its challenges. I witnessed not one, but two truck accidents—a stark reminder that the drivers were still getting used to this faster route.
Upon reaching the summit, the weather decided to play its tricks on me; dark clouds rolled in, and I found myself soaked as I sped down the mountainside. Just when I thought things couldn’t get more adventurous, I stumbled upon a charming guesthouse nestled in the remote village of Kawkareik. It was hard to believe many foreigners ventured here, but I was grateful for the warm shelter.
After securing my room, I set out to explore the town, feeling like a curious traveller in this hidden gem. However, my excitement was met with a challenge: most restaurants were closed since electricity only flowed in after 6 p.m.! Still, my hunger drove me to seek out local snacks. What I found was a delightful surprise—unique flavours unlike the street food scene I had grown accustomed to back in Thailand. It was an adventure for both my taste buds and my spirit, truly making this day one to remember!
Epilogue
The epilogue reflects on how the journey reshaped expectations, stripping life down to essentials and replacing certainty with adaptability. It emphasises that the true value came not from distance covered, but from moments of generosity, endurance, and learning along the way. Though the travel log ends, the lessons—and the impulse to keep moving forward—continue beyond the page.
