171 THAILAND - THE SOUTH COAST AND BEYOND

From the Gulf to the Mekong: Pedalling North Through Thailand

 PHOTOS

PDF

FLIP-BOOK

VOICEOVER

 

Prologue

I only meant to slip away for a few days — a quick coastal wander before Dawn arrived and life shifted into holiday mode. But the moment I pedalled out of Jomtien, something tugged me forward. Maybe it was restlessness. Maybe it was the quiet thrill of leaving, even when you don’t know where you’re going.
Thailand had been home for too long, long enough for comfort to turn stale. So I followed the road, letting weather, whim, and the occasional 7‑Eleven decide my direction. What began as a short escape stretched into a slow, surprising pull toward the Mekong — a ride stitched together by rainstorms, temples, forest roads, kind strangers, and the simple joy of moving north, one unplanned day at a time.

 
170 Thailand (22.2) – The South Coast
305 Km - 4 Days

10 July – 20 July 2024

 

The South Coast: A Short Escape Before Goodbye

I left Jomtien earlier than expected, surprised at my own eagerness. Perhaps it was because this wasn’t a grand expedition, just a brief ten-day wander before Dawn arrived. Her visit shimmered ahead of me—days of eating, laughing, and decidedly not cycling. My long stay in Thailand was drawing to a close, and though I loved the country, I hoped I might finally move on before the year ended. Too many months in a hotel room can make even paradise feel small.

Pedalling out of Jomtien, I chuckled to myself. There is always a spark of exhilaration when I set off toward the unknown, even when the unknown lies along familiar roads. The sky hung low and grey, and I drifted through daydreams, barely taking any photos. Most of my attention was consumed by my new Garmin watch—an impulsive purchase I instantly regretted. It was complicated, fussy, and not much better than my cheap Xiaomi. But what’s done is done; I would simply have to learn its moods.

By the time I reached Rayong, the day felt ready to end. The Richy Grant guesthouse—cheap as chips, with washing machines, filtered water, and a night market nearby—was too tempting to pass up. I should have eaten a snack before heading to the market; instead, I returned with enough food to feed a small battalion. I spent the evening reorganising panniers and working my way through the mountain of snacks.

 

Rain, Repairs, and the Slow Drift Down the Coast

The night sky had raged with thunder and lightning, and morning arrived wrapped in drizzle. I lingered, sorting my belongings at leisure, waiting for the clouds to loosen their grip.

When the rain finally eased, I set off—only to be chased back under shelter five kilometres later. An Amazon Café at a petrol station became my refuge. But the day soon transformed: a soft ocean breeze, thin cloud cover, and the kind of gentle light that makes cycling feel effortless.

Progress was slow, interrupted by small adjustments—watch, chain, tyres—and by the irresistible urge to stop for photos. The South Coast always draws me in with its quiet beauty. By late afternoon, after only 85 kilometres, I found a cluster of roadside cottages with shops and restaurants nearby. It felt like the right place to stop.

 

Coastal Curves, Old Town Streets, and the King of Fruit

I woke at six to birdsong, brewed coffee, and the soft hush of an overcast morning. The coastal road unfurled ahead of me, winding between viewpoints that demanded short climbs and rewarded me with sweeping sea views.

In Chanthaburi, I checked into Laluna River House—simple, affordable, and perched above the river. I spent the afternoon grazing through the night market: banana‑leaf parcels, spicy salads, flavours that lingered long after the last bite. The next day drifted by lazily as I wandered the old town’s narrow lanes, admiring its historic shophouses and vibrant street life.

Durian—Asia’s self‑proclaimed king of fruit—made its presence known everywhere. Enormous, spiky, and unapologetically pungent, it is a fruit that demands commitment. I’ve never bought one (too pricey), but I adore durian ice cream. Its smell is so potent that many hotels ban it outright. Only in Southeast Asia could a fruit be both revered and outlawed.

 

Forest Roads and an Unexpected Reunion

With no fixed plan, I followed minor roads until they spilt me onto the main highway. I escaped it at the first chance, slipping onto a quiet forest road that felt forgotten by the world. Hardly a soul passed me. Dense greenery pressed close, and the silence felt ancient.

Then, unexpectedly, Bo Rai appeared—a tiny town with a lovely hotel and a 7-Eleven. As I settled in, a message arrived from my friend Anil: he was in Pattaya. After missing him in India, I had promised we’d meet there. So I arranged a ride back, my heart lifting at the thought of familiar faces.

 

A Sudden Turn Back and a Month of Friendship

Just like that, I was back in Pattaya. Anil and his friends welcomed me into an evening of laughter at the Beer Garden. With Dawn arriving in four days, I stayed put.

Her visit became a month of indulgence—food, drinks, stories, and slow days that slipped through our fingers. We spent time on Ko Samet, wandered Bangkok’s streets, and met up with Luke before they flew home. We had grand plans, but life had its own pace, and we surrendered to it.

Back in Jomtien, I waited for my second bicycle to be serviced and began packing for my upcoming journey around Asia. I cleaned the room, sorted my belongings, and discarded the unnecessary things I had accumulated—objects that had no place on a bicycle.

 

171 Thailand (22.3) – Jomtien – Nong Khai

28 August - 13 September 2024

1 010 km – 16 Days

 

Immigration Errands and a Chaotic Start to the Northbound Ride

I finally pedalled out of Jomtien on 28 August, though “pedalled out” makes it sound far more romantic than it was. In truth, I limped away from the Immigration Office after spending the better part of two hours securing a re-entry permit, so my Non-Immigrant visa wouldn’t evaporate the moment I crossed a border. Bureaucracy has a way of turning even the strongest coffee into regret.

By 11:30 a.m., passport in hand, I pointed the bike north with all the confidence of someone who had absolutely no plan. The minor roads looked innocent enough on the map, but in reality, they were clogged with trucks, cement mixers, and construction vehicles that seemed to multiply every time I blinked. It felt like cycling through the backstage area of a nation under renovation.

Accommodation was equally elusive. Every guesthouse was full of long-term construction workers, and the traffic was becoming so unhinged that even my stubbornness began to wilt. Eventually, I surrendered, turned around, and slunk back to a guesthouse I’d passed earlier. Not my proudest moment, but at least I survived the day with all limbs attached. Time to consult the map again — preferably with a stiff drink in hand.

 

A Day of Admin, a Veranda Cat, and a Slow Reset

I keep saying I stayed in “Khao Khan Song,” but honestly, it could be the name of the town, the guesthouse, or the cat. Everything was written in Thai, and I was too frazzled to investigate further. What I did know was that I’d left Jomtien in far too much of a hurry, trailing a small comet of unfinished tasks behind me.

Fortunately, modern life allows one to conduct an entire existence from a plastic chair and a patchy Wi‑Fi signal. My room came with a table, a veranda, and a resident cat who appeared to be the property’s true manager. With such luxurious amenities, staying put felt like the only sensible choice.

My online work swallowed the day, and by the time I resurfaced, it was already 5 p.m. I wandered to the supermarket for dinner and a beer, feeling oddly content. Sometimes the road demands motion; sometimes it demands stillness. Today, the cat won.

 

Tailwinds, River Roads, and Thai Table Manners

The next morning, I saddled my old iron horse — a creature of questionable elegance but unwavering loyalty — and rolled back onto the main road. Thankfully, this stretch was newly paved and boasted a shoulder wide enough to host a small wedding. I attempted a detour onto a quieter route, but the road fizzled out like a bad idea, so I returned to the highway and let a generous tailwind push me northward.

I flew into Bang Khla just as the sky decided to empty itself. I darted into the first accommodation I saw and paid a little more than usual, but the reward was a spacious, air-conditioned room with hot water for $14. At least I was out of the madness — the trucks, the dust, the construction zones that felt like cycling through a nation mid‑renovation — and finally heading north. The promise of river roads, temples, and green horizons tugged me onward. Thailand has a way of rewarding perseverance with beauty, as if patting you on the back and saying, “There, there. Have a waterfall.”

Over a plate of fried rice that tasted far better than my day deserved, I had a small revelation: Thailand’s table manners are a quiet masterpiece. While other cultures duel with knives or twirl pasta like Olympic gymnasts, the Thais have perfected a gentle choreography. The spoon — chon — is the star performer, gliding food gracefully to the mouth. The fork — som — is the backstage crew, nudging rice into place, never daring to enter the spotlight itself. Knives are largely unnecessary; everything arrives already in bite-sized diplomacy. It’s elegant, efficient, and frankly, a relief for someone who has dropped more noodles than she cares to admit.

 

Temples, Fruit Bats, and a Lunch Without Words

The next morning, I pedalled a few kilometres to Wat Pho Bang Khla, a temple believed to date back to the reign of King Taksin the Great. Its architecture carries whispers of Ayutthaya and Rattanakosin, but the real showstoppers are the fruit bats — enormous, leathery creatures dangling from the trees like oversized ornaments. They rustled and shifted above me, a living ceiling of wings.

The so‑called floating market came next. “Floating” was perhaps optimistic; it was more of a food market politely sitting beside the river, but the smells alone were worth the detour. Then on to Wat Pak Nam Jolo, a temple said to be around 200 years old, shimmering quietly in the morning light.

From Bang Khla, the ride along the Bang Pakong River was pure joy — the kind of cycling that makes you forget the weight of your panniers and the questionable decisions of the previous day.

By midday, hunger struck, and I pulled into a roadside shelter. A startled woman emerged, and without a single shared word, she conjured a plate of rice, spicy vegetables, and a fried egg that could have won awards. We communicated entirely through gestures, smiles, and the universal language of “Yes, more chilli is fine.” The whole exchange was so seamless and absurdly charming that I laughed out loud.

Just before reaching Nakhon Nayok, I detoured to the ruins of Dong Lakhon, an ancient town dating back to the ninth to eleventh centuries. Not much remains — a well, a moat, a few quiet stones — but the place hums with old stories. It’s the kind of spot where you stroll slowly, letting the centuries settle around you.

 

Waterfall Dreams in Khao Yai National Park

I stayed an extra night and ventured into Khao Yai National Park, dreaming of serene waterfalls and a peaceful lunch with my 7‑Eleven sandwich. The park is vast — over 2,000 square kilometres — and proudly Thailand’s oldest, a UNESCO World Heritage Site no less.

But it was a beautiful Sunday, and Bangkok is far too close for solitude. My waterfall fantasy dissolved into a cheerful crowd of weekenders, selfie sticks, and families picnicking with admirable enthusiasm. Still, the park was undeniably gorgeous. Next time, I’ll cycle through one gate and out another — a grand traverse, and hopefully with fewer humans.

 

Frangipani Roads and a Quiet Night by the Water

The following day’s ride was a balm. My chosen route skirted the edge of the National Park, weaving through small communities where every woman seemed to be pounding something aromatic in a mortar or coaxing magic from a wok. Some concoctions were so potent they made me sneeze as I cycled past.

Frangipani trees lined the road, their blossoms perfuming the air, and the scent of freshly cut grass drifted across the fields. With no destination in mind, I followed signs to the Pasak Chonlasit Dam. Being a Monday, the campsite was nearly empty — just one other cyclist and a Thai couple who later approached me shyly to ask for a photo. Apparently, I make quite an impression. LOL.

The evening settled softly over the water, and for the first time in days, everything felt unhurried. Just me, the quiet, and the long road north waiting patiently for morning.

 

Pasak Chonlasit Dam to  Sa Kruat

I woke before sunrise, not because of any noble intention, but because the other cyclist in the campsite decided to rummage through his plastic bags at an hour only owls should witness. If you’ve ever slept in a hiking hut, you know that sound — the frantic rustling that suggests someone is either packing for Everest or searching for the meaning of life at the bottom of a Ziploc.

Just as I thought the symphony was over, he put on music — something soothing, I’m sure, as he gazed dreamily over the dam. Unfortunately, sound travels beautifully across open water, so I too was up at the crack of dawn.

Cycling across the dam wall, I felt a rush of gratitude. I was heading somewhere — I wasn’t sure where — and that uncertainty felt delicious. The road along the eastern shore was blissfully quiet, shared only with a few motorbikes, herds of buffalo, a snake, and a large, determined Shongololo crossing the road with the confidence of a creature who knows it has right of way.

By midday, I stopped for fried rice — always an entertaining affair when you’re the lone foreigner in a tiny village. The clouds thickened in the afternoon, and when the sky began to growl, I called it a day in what I think was Sa Kruat. I stopped partly because of the weather, partly because I was toying with the idea of visiting the Si Thep Historical Park in the morning. Decisions, decisions.

 

Ancient City Walls and a Guesthouse Fried Rice Adventure

I woke early, well-rested, and decided Si Thep was worth the detour. The historical park holds the remains of an ancient city inhabited from the third to fifth century CE and occupied until the thirteenth. Once one of the great city-states of central Thailand, it was added to the World Heritage List in 2023 — a well-deserved nod to its quiet grandeur.

After wandering the ruins, I checked into a guesthouse across the road to tackle laundry and fix the slow leak in my back wheel. Later, I cycled 1.5 kilometres to a supermarket, only to be ambushed by a sudden downpour. I sheltered for ten minutes, then continued in full sunshine. Thailand’s weather has a sense of humour.

Dinner turned into an unexpected adventure. When the guesthouse owner asked if I wanted food, I casually said, “Fried rice,” imagining he’d point me to a kitchen. Instead, he hopped on his motorbike and zoomed off to fetch it from a restaurant two kilometres away. He returned drenched but triumphant, clutching a steaming hot meal. I paid him $2.50 for a $1.25 dish — where else in the world can you get home delivery, complete with dramatic rainstorm, for that price?

 

Heat, Hills, Ice Cream with Sticky Rice, and a Poolside Beer

In the morning, I cycled to Wichian Buri to buy a new inner tube. The people there were wonderfully kind — they not only directed me to the right shop but also handed me two bottles of water. A blessing, as the heat was fierce and the climb steeper than expected.

Despite the temperature, the ride was glorious. I drifted off the main road and onto a narrow secondary route threading through small communities. After cresting the pass, I found an ice cream vendor and immediately stopped. The treat came with sticky rice, tiny scoops of ice cream, peanuts, and a drizzle of condensed milk — a combination that sounds improbable but tastes like joy.

Sugar-fuelled, I sped downhill until I screeched to a halt at Haus Luneburg, a charming guesthouse with a swimming pool. I didn’t even pretend to be dignified. I unloaded the bike at record speed and jumped straight into the pool with a cold Chang beer in hand. Bliss.

 

Rainstorms, Rural Roads, and an Early Stop

Another day, another beautiful ride. Route 2037 has been an absolute delight — a ribbon of road winding through tiny hamlets, each with its own temple, school, and market. Midway through the day, the sky opened, and I cycled through a torrential downpour. Since it wasn’t cold, I simply kept going, enjoying the absurdity of it.

When the rain eased, I continued until I spotted a row of roadside cottages. It was early, but the clouds were gathering again, and I decided not to push my luck. Stopping early meant there wasn’t much to do, so I tackled the dreaded laundry and hunted down a tap to wash the mud off the bike.

Sometimes the road gives you adventure; sometimes it gives you chores. Both are part of the journey.

 

A Perfect Ride into the City and a Day of Chores

I wore a permanent grin today — the kind that sneaks up on you when everything aligns just right. The weather was soft and generous, the rice paddies impossibly green, the corn standing tall like proud sentinels. I counted myself among the luckiest humans alive. The kilometres drifted by as if the bike had sprouted its own wings, and even the village dogs, usually self-appointed border patrol, didn’t bother to chase me.

A stiff breeze nudged me through a string of small settlements and past temples painted in colours that would make a parrot blush. By the time I rolled into Khon Kaen, I felt sun-kissed, wind-blown, and utterly content. Two days here, I decided — time for chores and a reset.

The next morning, I tackled laundry at the laundromat conveniently located right outside my room. Then I wandered around the city lake, a shaded loop dotted with temples and the occasional monk gliding past like a saffron ghost. Later, I cycled to a bike shop that turned out to be a gem — well-stocked, professional, and staffed by people who actually knew what they were doing. They adjusted my gears and fitted an odometer, which felt like giving my bike a tiny brain.

By evening, I drifted through the night market in search of vegetarian food. Slim pickings. I settled for freshly made French fries and, fearing starvation, added a pizza that cost the same as my room. Foreign food always comes with a surcharge — a tax on nostalgia.

 

Holy Ponds, Cobra Villages, and a Smooth Highway Finish

I slept surprisingly well on the lumpy mattress — for 350 THB, one must adjust expectations — and was up at six, rolling by eight. Khon Kaen revealed itself to be far larger than I’d imagined, and the morning traffic was lively. Yet, in true Thai fashion, drivers stopped to let me cross the road. Only in Thailand.

Soon enough, I was back among the rice paddies, music blaring far too loudly, feeling like the star of my own low-budget travel film. The holy pond at Ku Ban Na Kham Noi appeared like a mirage. I learned the surrounding structures once served as a hospital during the reign of King Jayavarman VII — a Khmer king with a flair for infrastructure.

Next came the Cobra Village. I didn’t linger. No matter how well‑treated, no animal dreams of a life in captivity, and I wasn’t keen on supporting the spectacle.

Toward day’s end, I veered toward the main road in search of accommodation. The highway was smooth as a baby’s bottom, and despite my dislike of such roads, I pushed on another 30 kilometres. When the weather turned moody, I pulled into the nearest guesthouse and found a charming 350 THB bungalow — clean bedding, air‑con, fan, and two bottles of water. No lumpy mattress. A bargain by any measure.

 

Monkey Parks, Red Lotus Lake, and a Night in a Temple

The next morning’s ride was a treasure hunt of oddities. First up: Monkey Park. The map made it sound promising; reality revealed a city park with outdoor gym equipment and volleyball courts entirely commandeered by monkeys. Not a human in sight. I didn’t dare leave the bike — those monkeys had ambition. A very accurate name indeed.

A little further on lay the Red Lotus Lake. No red lotus flowers in sight — perhaps the season had passed, or the water level was too low. Still, the ride along its shores was peaceful, and the surrounding villages hummed with the rhythm of fishing life.

Thirty kilometres later, I stumbled upon Ban Chiang — a remarkable archaeological site and one of the most important prehistoric settlements in Southeast Asia. Wet‑rice culture, ancient burials, pottery older than most civilizations — the place radiates quiet significance. It’s humbling to stand where humans lived, farmed, and loved thousands of years before the idea of Thailand even existed.

After leaving Ban Chiang, I headed north toward the Laos border. My presence caused quite a stir — I suspect foreigners are rare here. The area was so rural that I didn’t spot a single guesthouse. When the rain began, I ducked into the nearest Buddhist temple and asked if I could pitch my tent. They pointed me to a large covered area, and just as I finished setting up, the lady monks began chanting. Their voices rose and fell like waves. It was the gentlest, most unexpected lullaby.

 

Pre‑Dawn Chanting, Wet Roads, and the Mekong at Last

At three in the morning, the nuns began rummaging through their belongings — monks and cyclists share a fondness for early starts — and by four, the chanting was in full swing. LOL. I was on the road by six, which must be some kind of personal record.

My first stop was a food vendor, always a highlight. Breakfast in Thailand is never dull. The ride was wet but manageable, and by midday I rolled into Nong Khai. I checked into Mud Mee Guesthouse, a charming, inexpensive place right on the Mekong River, complete with a garden restaurant and coffee shop. I paid for two nights — my body insisted.

I did very little for the rest of the day. By evening, I sat in the garden with a beer and a vegetarian green curry. A massive storm rolled in, thunder shaking the building. I was profoundly grateful not to be in my tent.

The next morning, I slept in, then wandered to the supermarket to gather a few supplies for Laos. The day drifted by in a haze of riverfront strolling and Mekong‑watching. Sometimes the best adventures are the quiet ones.

 

At the Edge of Laos

By the time I reached Nong Khai, the Mekong felt like a finish line I hadn’t known I was racing toward. I let the river hold me still for a day — storms rolling in, curry steaming on the table, my legs finally allowed to rest. Tomorrow I would cross into Laos, but for now, it was enough to sit by the water and feel the long road settle behind me. A pause, a breath, a quiet beginning disguised as an ending.

169 THAILAND (22) - EXPLORING THE CENTRAL PLAINS

Cycling Thailand's Central Plains

169 Thailand (22)
9 January – 20 January 2024
1,377 Kilometres – 22 Days

PHOTOS

FLIP-BOOK

MAP

9 January - Jomtien – Bang Saen Beach – 83 km

It was already past midday when I finally set out, and I was determined to stick to rural roads and avoid the chaotic traffic that plagues the route between Pattaya and Bangkok. Despite the challenges, I navigated my way through the winding roads until I finally arrived at the tranquil Bang Saen Beach in Chon Buri. The sense of relief was palpable as I found a comfortable $10 room and settled in for the night, feeling as happy as the proverbial pig.

As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, I walked the short distance of less than 200 meters to the beach. I sat on the sand, feeling the warmth of the grains between my toes and the gentle breeze of the sea on my skin. The colours of the sky changed with each passing moment, creating a breathtaking spectacle that left me feeling blessed and privileged to be back on the road.

10 January – Bang Saen Beach – Chachoengsao – 65 km

The first 30 kilometres of the ride ran along a scenic part of the Gulf of Thailand partly via a road built over the ocean. The Northern Gulf of Thailand is shallow, with abundant birdlife and fishing opportunities. Afterwards, I veered inland along the Bang Pakong River but couldn't find country lanes, which is a rarity in Thailand.

Interestingly, authorities have persuaded fishermen on the Bang Pakong River to stop shrimping to protect the Irrawaddy dolphins, and 30 to 40 fishing boats have been modified to offer dolphin sightseeing tours. I was hoping to find a path along the river, but it never happened, and I never saw the dolphins.

Heavy traffic made cycling unpleasant, so I called it a day in Chachoengsao. I found an inexpensive room and needed to look at the map more closely.

My early arrival allowed me to explore the area, including the 100-year-old Banmai Market. Nowadays, the market is only open on weekends, but traders live within this ancient riverside complex. The light was beautiful. Back in my room, it was time to do the dreaded laundry.

 

11 January - Chachoengsao – Amphoe Nong Khae, Saraburi – 110 km

From Chachoengsao, it was a much better day of cycling as I had plenty of rural roads to choose from. It was an absolute pleasure to pedal past rice paddies and tiny hamlets.

At one point, I picked up a red cloth, which I thought I'd use as a flag, but it was too large, so I tied it to the rear rack, hoping it would make me more visible. For most of the day, my chosen path ran alongside a canal until, after 110 kilometres, it spat me out at a busy intersection where I decided to end my ride. I was surprised to find a fancy room for only $14! Hahaha, or as fancy as a $14 room can be.

 

12 &13 January - Nong Khae – Lopburi – 80 km

I took far too many pictures during the ride to Lopburi. It was a brilliant ride, partly along the railway line and partly next to a canal. Lopburi is an ancient town, with its ruins within easy walking distance. Nowadays, the old city is home to ordinary Thai life and a group of monkeys, who even have a temple of their own.

I'm glad that I arrived early, as it was pretty warm (35°C). The $10 room that I rented wasn't very fancy, but it had a fan, which was good enough for me. I felt like all I did was eat since I arrived, but there are so many good food options in Lopburi.

There's much to see in Lopburi, and I decided to stay one more day. The windows of my room couldn’t open, as the monkeys were notorious for breaking into rooms through the windows despite having bars on them. They can be quite a menace. The rest of the day was spent exploring the ruins of Lopburi.

 

14 January – Lopburi – Khok Mai Den – 110 km

Not much happened en route to Khok Mai Den. I again followed a canal, or maybe it was a river, meaning there were many luminous green rice paddies and people fishing. I must have been way off the beaten track as I encountered very few villages. I loved the ride and felt energetic and happy to be out there. What a privilege.

Of course, there’s always the ever-present Buddhist temple with its bright yellow Dharma flags blowing in the wind. These temples make peaceful and convenient stopping places, offering plenty of shade. Eventually, after 110 kilometres, I veered towards the highway to find food and accommodation.

At my accommodation, I realised you'll hardly ever find a bed in Asia facing the door, as it's the worst possible position, according to feng shui principles. People who practice feng shui call it the ‘dead man’s position’ or the ‘coffin position’ because it resembles how we carry the dead through the door.

I was well into the Thai way of life and ordered a takeaway from 7-Eleven. Delivery is free, and even with a good tip, I still considered it a bargain as I didn't feel like getting on the bike to cycle the two kilometres to the shop in the darkness.

 

15 January – Khok Mai den – Nakhon Savan (Anodard Hotel) 53 km

I dawdled and didn't leave my comfortable bungalow until past nine in the morning.

My first destination for the day was the Khok Mai Den Ancient City ruins, located just two kilometres away. The city was founded between 457 and 957 AD during the Thawarawadi period. I parked my bike at the temple and walked to the top of the hill to explore the ruins. Upon my return, I found a bag hanging from my bike's handlebars containing rice and soup. The monk who left it gave me a Buddhist talisman as well. I expressed my gratitude and proceeded to a roadside shrine to eat the food, but I couldn't stomach the soup, which was a watery broth with bird-like chunks.

From the ruins, I followed the Chao Phraya River upstream to its origin at the confluence of the Ping and Nan rivers in Nakhon Sawan. From here, the river flows 372 kilometres south to the Gulf of Thailand, and the surroundings are mostly farmland with small villages. The fried banana snack is a popular treat in these hamlets, and petrol is sold in Coca-Cola bottles from hole-in-the-wall shops. Although most rice farming is still done manually, I saw farmers using drones to spread either seeds or fertiliser, but I couldn't determine which one.

 

16 January - Nakhon Savan - Tha Makhuea – 92 km

Biking out of Nakhon Savan was amidst heavy traffic and workers installing decorations for the upcoming Chinese New Year festivities. A path next to the Ping River took me north through small riverside villages. I passed by sleeping cats and dogs and chickens pecking in the dirt. Women were selling goods on their bicycles, and I could hear monks chanting at colourful temples. The ride was easy, and the kilometres flew by quickly.

At my many water stops, people would shyly ask, "Where are you from?" and I would respond, "Africa Thai" (one of the few Thai words I know). They would usually exclaim, "Oh, you speak Thai!" The next question was generally about my destination, but as I was not sure where I was headed, I replied with the name of the next big town, to which they would always ask, "By bicycle?" LOL. Eventually, they would ask, "Only one?" My answer usually ended the conversation as a woman travelling alone by bicycle isn't something rural Thai people seem to understand.

 

17-18 January - Tha Makhuea – Kamphaeng Phet – 56 km

The way to Kamphaeng Phet was along a busy road with large trucks carrying sugarcane to the mill, and the road surface was littered with sugarcane stalks.

My visit to Kamphaeng Phet was to explore its UNESCO World Heritage Site, which features ruins of structures dating to the 14th century, roughly the same time as the better-known kingdom of Sukhothai, a bit further north. Three J Guesthouse offers cute wooden bungalows at 350 THB. The guesthouse has a friendly owner and heaps of information, and is set in a jumble of arty nooks and crannies. Due to the short distance, I arrived early, but it was already 4 pm before I put my laundry in the machine and went to the famous Heritage Park. Unfortunately, it was too late to explore, but I snapped a few pictures before they closed the gates.

The following morning, I explored Kamphaeng Phet by bicycle, a vast area of ancient ruins, trees, and shade - what a delightful experience!

 

19 - 20 January – Kamphaeng Phet – Sukhothai – 85 km

From Kamphaeng Phet, I again opted for a rural path that ran past rice, banana, corn and sugarcane plantations. The weather was perfect, and I biked along, hardly stopping as the going was super easy.

 

Thailand's central region is a fertile plain that provides easy cycling. It's also the birthplace of the culture and language that defines Thailand today. Sukhothai is, therefore, immensely touristy, and a budget room came at 400 THB. Once booked in, I realised my wallet was nowhere to be found! I have two wallets, one containing my day money, which is in my handlebar bag and the other holding my bank cards and remaining cash. At my destination, there was no sign of my main wallet! I freaked right there and then! It doesn't matter how much money you have, without access to it you have nothing!

 

I contacted my sister, Amanda: Please send money! But even that would take at least 24 hours. Adding that I couldn't access my Thai bank app, made my stress levels go through the roof! Many hours later, I had money in my wallet, and I hoped the money transfers would show the next day. Phew! What a day! Thanks to Vitoonguesthouse2Fanroom, who allowed me to book in without paying - it is much appreciated!

An additional day was spent in Sukhothai as I waited for the money transferred to show in my bank account and to investigate the area. Sukhothai was the capital of the first Kingdom of Siam in the 13th and 14th centuries, and the area has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The old walled city is home to some of the most well-preserved and impressive ruins I've seen in Thailand. A delightful day was spent cycling the outlying area. The park is open until 8 pm, and as I was staying across the road, I walked to the nearby temples. The park was much nicer to explore at sunset than in the midday heat.

 

21 January – Sukhothai – Phitsanulok 78 km

From Sukhothai, a 78-kilometre ride took me to Phitsanulok. The route was relatively uneventful, but I was fortunate to find a bike lane along the main road. With the wind at my back, I made good progress and arrived in Phitsanulok early.

 

I was surprised by the town, mainly because it reminded me of India. The old town, with its famous Buddha and charming historical structures, also gave me an Indian vibe.

 

My accommodation was quite intriguing, as it was bounded by the highway, the railway line, and a mosque! Although immensely central, I thought it best to walk to the nearest 7-Eleven to buy a two-pack, as I didn’t think I would get much sleep. LOL.

 

22 January – Phitsanulok – Taphan Hin – 100 km

I was pleasantly surprised by the comfort of my hotel despite the muezzin's call. I didn't hear the muezzin but woke to the hustle and bustle of the street below (it must have been that two-pack - LOL).

After a breakfast of coffee, fried dough, bananas, and biscuits (included in the room rate), I nervously attempted to cross the busy Main Road and I must have made such a spectacle that cars stopped allowing me to pass. I continued south along the Nan River, passing temples and people living on barges. The weather was pleasant, and most rice paddies were still green, as they were near the river and not dependent on rain.

After 100 kilometres, and spotting the New Hua Hin Hotel (which wasn't new, not even by any stretch of the imagination), I decided to call it a day. The small village was bustling as food vendors set up their stalls. After a quick shower, I barely had to walk 100 metres to find a delicious noodle dish. It was such a novelty that I opted for a takeaway.

 

23 January - Taphan Hin – Tha Tako – 98 km

The morning market was already in full swing on departing the (not-so-new) New Hua Hin Hotel. I continued south along the river, passing the, by now, familiar small villages and bright green rice paddies.

Around noon, I decided to change my route and head east instead of going through Bangkok. However, I soon realised I needed to withdraw more cash, but Miss Smarty Pants' decision to cancel her Bangkok Bank card meant I couldn't make a cardless withdrawal. The word “fuck” left my mouth with alarming frequency! Fortunately, I had just about enough money for a room and food. Still, I desperately needed to stop at the nearest Bangkok Bank, 55 kilometres to the south, first thing in the morning. The drama was never-ending!

 

24 January - Tha Tako - Nakhon Sawan – 48 km

By morning, I blitzed the 50 kilometres to Nakhon Sawan, where I came to a screeching halt in front of Bangkok Bank. Not much later, I walked out with money and a new bank card in my wallet. Phew!

I was so relieved that I booked into a nearby hotel and walked to the mall. My wandering took me through the city park, a massive area with bike and walking lanes, as well as basketball and volleyball courts. I love new destinations where everything is unfamiliar, and I can't understand the language. The city was buzzing with preparations for the Year of the Dragon celebrations, and red lanterns and dragons were everywhere.

 

25 January – Nakhon Sawan - Chai Nat – 92 km

If I followed the main road, the day’s distance would have been 62 kilometres, and if I followed the route suggested by Organic Maps, it would have been 72 kilometres. Still, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I again followed the river, and a winding river it was. The little settlements I encountered were old-worldly, and wooden shophouses lined the path. I loved it. The Chao Phraya River is one of the main rivers in Thailand and, like any other important waterway, it comes with an ancient history. It’s a place where the temples are old and the boats long!

There was no need to stop in Chai Nat, but it looked like a sizable town with inexpensive accommodation.

 

26 January – Chat Nai - Ang Thong – 100 km

The next morning, I followed the route indicated by Organic Maps for about five kilometres before veering off onto a smaller path. What a delight to make my way through these tiny hamlets where cats, dogs and water monitors lay sleeping on the road. One can easily assume they are dead. I tried to make a noise to warn them I’m coming, but their eyelids or ears only flickered.

I dragged my heels a tad, and it must have been near 4 pm when I arrived in Ang Thong. Shortly before the town, I stopped at Wat Sukkasem Thammikaram, a 130-year-old temple home to a 38.9-metre-high statue of Phra Siwali Mahalap. The statue can be seen from many kilometres away. According to ancient belief, Phra Siwali Mahalap brings good fortune and lottery results. Hence, villagers flock here to pay homage and ask for blessings by offering honey, fresh fruit, and white or fragrant flowers. The honey may have something to do with the swarm of bees that annually nest under the arm of the statue, and hundreds of people visit the temple during that time.

Finding inexpensive accommodation was easy, and I soon spotted the popular budget Ang Thong hotel. I couldn’t wait to get in the shower - as I have often said: a shower is never overrated. Afterwards, I washed my cycling clothes in the wastepaper bin, and I’m sure they never had such a clean bin. Then, I could finally walk to the 7-Eleven for my evening beer and portion of vegetarian fried rice.

 

27-28 January – Ang Thong – Ayutthaya - 65 km

I had no intention of going to Ayutthaya but ended up there anyway. Again, the way was mainly along a canal dotted by typical Thai-style timber homes on stilts and, of course, numerous temples, one more ornate than the other.

In Ayutthaya, I cycled to the train station thinking of taking a train into Bangkok, but there was a two-hour wait for the train and, instead, I sought out my old favourite Baan Lotus Guesthouse, a converted old schoolhouse. I felt tired and only walked to the shop for food and relaxed for the rest of the afternoon.

 

29-30 January – Ayutthaya – Bangkok – 85 km

Although I wasn't feeling up to it, I decided to cycle the 85 kilometres to Bangkok. Luckily, it was Sunday and the traffic light. However, cycling into a city with a population of 11 million can be pretty nerve-wracking. I was relieved to finally arrive at my destination, but I chose to take the train from Bangkok to Pattaya as I had cycled that route too many times before and wasn't in the mood for the traffic.

I slept so well that I woke up too late to catch the train, but it wasn't a big deal since I enjoy spending time in Bangkok.

 

31 January – Bangkok – Pattaya 15 km (by train)

The previous evening, I made sure the alarm was set and I cycled the five kilometres to the train station in the dark. I was nervous because I wasn't sure if drivers could see me.

Getting the bicycle onto the train was challenging since the door was relatively narrow, and it required careful manoeuvring to get the bike into the coach. Three hours later, it took the same effort to get off at Pattaya station.

Once I arrived at my room, the washing machine worked overtime, and I cleaned the bike bags so they would be ready for use after mid-March. I'm wondering which route I should take next, as there are many exciting destinations.

166 THAILAND - A RIDE ALONG THE SOUTH COAST

166 THAILAND - A RIDE ALONG THE SOUTH COAST

20 February – 26 February 2023

358 Kilometres - 6 Days

PHOTOS 

20 February - Pattaya – Rayong – 78 km

It was “take two”! Early in the morning, my panniers were packed and ready, but I wasn’t heading to India as intended last November. Instead, I planned to do a short meander around Thailand as my friend Dawn arrived on the 27th. The main aim was to ensure the bike and equipment were in good condition and working order.

Although keen to get going, it was almost midday when I cycled out of Sodom and Gomorrah. In no time at all, I found myself on rural roads past cassava plantations with elephants grazing in the far distance, colourful temples, and Buddha statues. Then, up and over Big Buddha Mountain, still grinning from ear to ear.

By the time I pedalled into Rayong, I could feel I’d spent the best part of the day on the bike and called it a day at Richy Grand. Situated in the Chinese quarters, the guesthouse is well-located close to the night market. One should never go to the night market hungry!

 

21 February - Rayong – Pak Nam Krasae – 70 km

It was almost ten before I biked out of Rayong, and it was an immense pleasure to find myself upon a minor road past grazing cattle and through tiny settlements with brightly coloured homes—places where almost everything is peddled from motorbikes with sidecars. I’m sure Thailand is the only place in the world where a BBQ is allowed next to a petrol tank.

Soon my chosen route spat me out flush next to the coast on a road sporting a bike lane. The slight breeze was refreshing in the midday heat. At one of these communities, I met a Hungarian chap who has been living in Thailand for the past 40 years, and he invited me for a cold drink. How kind of him. Refreshed, I ambled over large rivers and past mangrove swamps until crossing the Prasae Sin Bridge. Here I spotted an authentic-looking village along the banks of the river. Turning in, only a few foreigners appeared to visit Pah Nam Krassae, as no English was spoken. I love places like that! However, it isn’t rocket science to explain that you’re looking for a place to sleep, and soon I was comfortably ensconced in a lovely room with air-con and hot water. At first, I thought finding food would be more problematic, but everyone understood “mangsawirat” (vegetarian) and “khaw phad” (fried rice). I had so much time I even rinsed my clothes!

 

22 February – Pak Nam Krasae – Chanthaburi – 75 km

Twenty kilometres after leaving, I stopped at a 7-Eleven for food, after which I continued along the coastal route. I love that a cycle lane ran almost the entire way to Chanthaburi. It was easy riding and a pleasure to be out on the bike. Once in Chanthaburi, I opted for the old quarters along the river, allowing plenty of time to stroll along the river, find food and relax.

 

23 February - Chanthaburi – Roadside guesthouse - 65 km

After umming and ahhing whether to stay in Chantaburi an additional day, I eventually saddled up and slowly started the return trip to Jomtien. The ride was pleasant, and the going easy. On spotting a three hundred THB room, I called it quits as finding inexpensive accommodation isn’t easy along the coast. My 40 THB meal of fried noodles was so much I couldn’t finish it.

 

24 February – Roadside Guesthouse – Rayong – 75 km

I took a different route, which was easy as there were hundreds of more minor roads. In fact, I don’t think I could find my original way even if I tried. The South Coast is relatively flat and, in places, resembles an estuary or delta. Thus, I crossed many rivers where fishing appeared as the main occupation. Back in Rayong, I cycled straight to Richy Grant as rooms were only 300THB and a place where one could wheel the bike right in, add a nearby night market, and it was a winner.

 

25 February - Rayong – Jomtien – 70 km

I zig-zagged through the countryside along farm roads, which always makes for an enjoyable day out. Little happened, as I was in the area only a few days prior. I thus didn’t stop and cycled back non-stop. It was somewhat of a stupid thing to do as I arrived starving and couldn’t wait to unlock the door and devour whatever was available.

Time to chuck the dirty laundry in the washing machine, shower and relax.

I was pleased with my little Tour d’South; although my arms are not 100%, they held up well (if I kept the distances short). Hopefully, my arms will be much stronger when I leave on the next trip around the end of April.

 

26 February Jomtien

Sorting out photos kept me busy the entire morning, and soon it was midday and time to collect the key to Dawn’s apartment. In the process, I had a beer with Karen and friends and was thus useless for the rest of the afternoon.

 

27 February – Jomtien

Seeing I had a day of rest the previous day, I donned the running shoes for an eight km jog along the beachfront. Returning dripping with perspiration, I first swept the floor and put the bedding in the washing machine before jumping in the pool for my daily kilometre swim. Funny how swimming always feels energising. Then back in front of the computer to sort out the last photos. Staving, I fried an egg, not something I often do as I think it’s too much trouble washing a pan. LOL. I must’ve been ravenous.

 

165 A DISASTROUS 2022

RECOVERY THAILAND
July 2022 – January 2023

 PHOTOS

 

9 July – Jomtien

Bouncing out of bed on a heavily overcast morning had nothing to do with my agility but rather the sing-along music playing. Music that made a person want to punch the air, exclaiming, “let’s go, baby”! Thus, Dire Straits was still blaring in my ears as I set off to the beach at a brisk pace. Unfortunately, the euphoria was short-lived, as I’d become rather unfit during the past six weeks. Having no running shoes, my old sandals had to do, and running in sandals isn’t all comfortable. Still, it was a pleasant walk, and the threatening rain never materialised. People were surprised to see me back in Jomtien, but so was I.  Returning, I picked up a bunch of bananas from my favourite fruit lady before heading into town to hunt for running shoes. Unfortunately, I scarcely made it to Beach Road before a storm broke. The weather came down with such force that it brought trees and electric poles down. The 7-eleven made an excellent place to hide from where a cab took me home—no point shopping in such weather.

 

10 July – Jomtien

Mundane tasks in a house or apartment take up much time. May it be sweeping, dusting, making a bed or doing dishes. These are actions not required when cycling. What a complete waste of time, as these jobs are never-ending. Thus, none of the above got done, and I lazily made coffee - left the mug on the coffee table and showered without picking up the towel. Instead, I listened to peaceful Reiki music said to increase positive energy. It was wonderfully relaxing, but still, no housework got done.

With my energy restored, I ventured to the mall, searching for new running/hiking shoes. Of course, it’s never an easy task finding such a combination. Still, I located a pair of trail running Hoka’s primarily designed for technical running and hoped they would be suitable for running.

 

11 July – Jomtien

By morning I keenly set out to test the new shoes. But, unfortunately, couldn’t say they were super comfortable as they were too narrow around the toe area. It’s so much easier to stick to shoes you know. Still, it wasn’t the end of the world, and I cut holes where the pressure points were.

Once home, it was back to finalising the last of the Malawian blog, as the longer I left it, the less I felt like doing it.

 

12 July – Jomtien

Early morning, I again set out for a jog. Being the rainy season, there weren’t many people on the beach. The umbrellas and chairs looked forlorn in the breeze, but still, stall owners were optimistic and put out tables, shrines and coconuts. The gentle breeze was a blessing as the weather remained hot and humid even though overcast.

Feeling surprisingly energetic, I pumped the bicycle tires and cautiously tested riding. Yes, it can be done, but it’s far from comfortable.

 

13 July

With nothing planned for the day, I cycled to the Lotus to test cycling and pick up a few things needed from the supermarket. Unfortunately, the hand remains uncomfortable, and I can’t see myself cycling any distance for a while.

Being Asalha Bucha day, a public holiday in Thailand, the streets and mall were quiet. This day, the first full moon of the eighth lunar month, commemorates the Buddha’s first sermon in Deer Park in Benares, India and the founding of the Buddhist sangha (monkhood) about 2,500 years ago. (The date in Thailand is thus 13 July 2565 BE)

In the sermon, known as ‘Setting the Wheel of Dhamma in Motion’, the Buddha first spelt out the Four Noble Truths and the Noble Eightfold Path.

 

July 2022 - February 2023

Eventually, my wrist healed, although it would never be 100%. But, at least I could cycle relatively easily using a wrist brace.

In the meantime, I had word from Dawn and was excited to learn she was planning on visiting Thailand. A fantastic month was spent eating, drinking, and doing other fun stuff. It was good to see my friend again.

After a month, Dawn returned to Australia, and I was excited to return to India. The Indian visa is an uncomplicated process, but the two wheel rims ordered took forever to arrive. Eventually, it took going to Bangkok myself, something that should’ve been done months ago, instead of waiting until the last minute. Finally, all was in place to leave for India. Sadly, while cycling back from the beach after taking a few sunset pictures, a scooter knocked me off the bicycle, resulting in two broken elbows.

To make a long story short, a week later, in early November 2022, I flew to South Africa. As can be imagined, I was mighty relieved to get off the chock-a-block plane. A visit to the hospital revealed what was already known. As in Thailand, doctors seemed more concerned about the fractured radial head, which I thought was my good arm. A CT scan was booked for 15 November (it’s a government hospital). Only after the scan will a decision be made. Both arms were again placed in a half cast (back slab), and there, I thought I could sneak in a short jog. Unfortunately, it seems walking was my only option for a while.

All went smoothly, and I was mighty impressed with the medical service received. The dislocated elbow was realigned, and a metal plate and screws were fitted to hold the fractured olecranon together. The radial head couldn’t be repaired and was replaced with a metal piece. Finally, the ligaments around the elbow were repaired and reattached using a screw.

Phew, happy that’s behind me! I’m even more impressed that I’ve regained almost full motion and rotation barely six weeks after the operation. And to think all at US$30.00. Finally, my bags were packed, and I was ready to return to the tropics and my bike. Although I stayed with my sister, it remained less expensive in Thailand. Thanks, Amanda!

I hope 2023 will be kinder to me. Back in Thailand, cycling remained, nonetheless, highly uncomfortable, but changing the bike’s setup made it easier to ride the bike.