166 THAILAND - A RIDE ALONG THE SOUTH COAST

Pedals, Panniers, and Poor Dietary Decisions

166 THAILAND

A Slightly Sweaty Tour of Thailand’s South Coast
20 February – 26 February 2023
358 Kilometres - 6 Days

PHOTOS 

 

 

 

Pattaya to Rayong (78 km)

This was Take Two of my great adventure—proof that the road always gets a second chance, even if it’s not leading to India this time. At a respectable hour just before noon (cyclists laugh at mornings), I rolled out of Pattaya, panniers packed, optimism high, and expectations firmly lowered.

The route whisked me through serene rural roads lined with cassava plantations and the occasional elephant casually minding its own business. Temples and Buddhas appeared like friendly checkpoints, silently judging my cadence. The climb over Big Buddha Mountain was worth every laboured breath, delivering views so good I almost forgot my legs were filing a complaint.

Rayong welcomed me with a glowing sunset and the Richy Grand, ideally positioned near a night market designed to punish anyone foolish enough to arrive hungry. Lesson noted. Too late.

 

Rayong to Pak Nam Krasae (70 km)

I set off around ten, which by touring standards counts as “keen.” The small roads delivered everything I love about Thailand: smiling locals, colourful houses, and food vendors operating from motorbikes that appeared to violate several laws of physics—BBQs inches away from petrol tanks included.

Reaching the coast felt like unlocking a bonus level. A dedicated bike lane, a breezy tailwind, and the realisation that cycling can, in fact, be pleasant. A Hungarian gentleman—who had sensibly settled here forty years ago—invited me in for a cold drink. Hospitality: undefeated.

Pak Nam Krasae was one of those beautiful places where English mysteriously disappears. With hand gestures, smiles, and my now-reliable Thai food vocabulary, I secured a comfy room and a full belly. Laundry done too. Peak efficiency.

 

Pak Nam Krasae to Chanthaburi (75 km)

After twenty kilometres, I made my daily pilgrimage to 7‑Eleven, proof that all spiritual journeys now end in plastic-wrapped snacks. Refuelled, I followed the coast along glorious cycle lanes and scenery that felt almost unfairly photogenic.

Chanthaburi’s old riverside quarter was perfect for slow wandering, street food grazing, and pretending I wasn’t on a bike trip with kilometres still to ride.

 

Chanthaburi to Roadside Guesthouse (65 km)

I briefly considered staying an extra day in Chanthaburi—a sure sign I was enjoying myself too much. Instead, discipline prevailed, and I turned back toward Jomtien.

A roadside guesthouse appeared just as my motivation dipped, offering a room for 300 THB. Destiny. Dinner was a heroic plate of fried noodles costing 40 THB and weighing approximately the same as my bike. Even I couldn’t finish it, which historians will note as a rare personal defeat.

 

 Roadside Guesthouse to Rayong (75 km)

New routes, countless side roads, and just enough confusion to make the day feel adventurous. The South Coast unfolded as flat, watery landscapes dotted with fishing boats and lazy estuaries.

Back in Rayong, I returned to the dependable Richy Grand—cheap, bike-friendly, and conveniently close to the kind of night market that demands second dinners.

 

Rayong to Jomtien (70 km)

I zig-zagged through farm roads, feeling oddly local and significantly too confident. I skipped stops. This was a mistake. Home arrived just as hunger reached cinematic levels.

Laundry, shower, and collapse followed. Arms complained but ultimately admitted they had survived. The Tour d’South was complete, and optimism for the next adventure remained dangerously high.

 

Epilogue: 

The following days were devoted to sorting photos (an activity that somehow eats entire mornings), collecting apartment keys, and conducting vital social research over beers. Physical activity resumed with an 8‑km beach run and a daily swim—proof that suffering is optional but routine.

Final verdict:

Thailand’s South Coast delivers scenery, kindness, affordability, and just enough unpredictability to keep things interesting. Would I do it again? Absolutely. Would I eat before night markets next time? Probably not.