A Preamble… Kind Of
Before you waste any more of your day reading this, let me be honest; this blog will not be particularly useful… It probably won’t even be very interesting, and it may even lack any comedic value. But what it will have is a generous dose of vulgarity, mild use of profanities, and an overflowing chest-load of aggravation and disappointment.
Here, I unleash my true self – an extremely grumpy, bald British bloke. You’ve been warned.
Still reading? Weirdos.
It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, I Swear.
“If it was so bad… why did you go there?”
I can hear you asking it, and the answer is twofold. First, we didn’t really know what we were in for (though we had our suspicions). Second, it was the logical overland route from Malaysia to the rest of Southeast Asia without taking a flight.
Even now, all of that remains true. In fact, I even wrote a blog about it, and if we were to do it all again, we still wouldn’t fly. But we would do a few things differently!
Is There a Point of This Blog?
Not particularly.
But, in the interest of some sort of structure, my ravings will at least be chronological. So, if you’re following along, you can trace our misery step by step. Hey, maybe you’ll like it!
That said, don’t expect details on costs or transport – that requires time and effort. This is just one big, unfiltered brain dump.
… I’ll tell you what – for the sake of my own sanity, I’ll try to include one thing I liked about each place we stopped. It should be doable… and it might even be cathartic!
Koh Lipe: “Yoohoo”
Frankly, the ferry from Langkawi felt less like a tropical crossing and more like Charon’s boat, dropping us straight at the gates of hell. Though, to be fair, I didn’t expect hell to be so sandy… Or so full of cross-dressers… Hmm, maybe I should’ve seen that coming.
Just picture sitting on a scorching hot beach (I mean really bloody hot), waiting for your name to be called to go and collect your passport. “Yoohoo.” Add to that the complete lack of communication, a horde of increasingly nauseous, angry tourists, and a near two-hour wait, and you start to get a feel of the hellish nature of our Thai welcome.
“Yoohoo.”
‘Busy’ Doesn’t Quite Cut It
We visited between Christmas and New Year, so yeah, we expected it to be busy. Just not that busy. “Yoohoo, Yoohoo.”
Claustrophobia isn’t something I usually suffer from, nor is it something I associate with the so-called freedom of traveling the world. But it turns out that being crammed into the corner of a restaurant on a tiny island, surrounded by drunk Europeans and deafened by the relentless clatter of chaos, can bring on a surprising sense of no escape! “Yoohoo.”
Our only escape from the toe-stomping, sweaty-shoulder-barging masses, was our deeply unappealing hotel room. Not only was it one of the few places with availability, “Yoohoo!”, but it was also one of the only ones in our budget. (Turns out, prices are inflated in hell.)
The Shaves Don’t Cut it Either
By the time we arrived, my whiskers had reached the point of no return, rendering a snorkel mask completely snorkless. So, I found a barber to tame the bristles and help keep the water out of my nostrils. He did a good job, but in hindsight, the dilapidated shed he worked from and the weeks of hair build-up on the floor should have been warning signs.
“Yoohoo, Yoohoo!!”
Long story short – we’re pretty sure that shave gifted me an infected follicle, which then turned into a two-month battle with an abscess… “Yoohoo.”
Madame F**king Yoohoo
By now, I hope you’re starting to detest even reading the word “Yoohoo.” Try staying on an island with an elderly woman who yells it on repeat. For hours. Every single day.
Worse still, her chosen perch was a small plastic chair close to our accommodation – directly opposite the overweight cross-dresser aggressively flogging Nutella crêpes. Of course.
Taken in isolation, it’s an amusing scene. I even laughed the first few times. But eventually, that creepy old voice got under my skin and into my soul
“Yoohoo, Yoohoo, YOOHOO!”
Even now, the memory makes me shudder. Madame Yoohoo alone is reason enough to avoid Thailand entirely.
OK, Maybe That Was a Bit Dramatic
Alright, maybe she’s only enough reason to swerve Koh Lipe specifically… But, as promised, here’s something good:
Some of the snorkelling is quite decent – though not all of it. And if you’re willing to walk for a couple of hours, you can still find a few quiet beaches.
Koh Muk: Happy New Year
We were just relieved to be somewhere else… Koh Muk didn’t have a tough act to follow!
We’d picked it in the hopes of finding decent snorkelling and a scenic, crowd-free spot for New Year’s. We got half of that right – it was infinitely less chaotic than Lipe, and it was fairly scenic.
The snorkelling, however, was epically bad.
Enter, ‘Thai Tourist Traps’
We would come across many ‘Triple T’s’ in Thailand, but this was our first proper encounter.
We opted for a half-day tour to Koh Kradan and two other snorkelling spots, “The snorkelling is very beautiful, the best!” they said. You already know where this is going…
Murky water, a sea of tourist flippers, rocks, and some very dead coral. We even questioned our guide about it, but he conveniently lost the small amount of English he could speak before we jumped in!
It was surreal – hundreds of tourists bobbing around aimlessly, staring at rubble and sand. Occasionally, you’d lock eyes with someone through a half-steamed-up mask and share a mutual “What the f**k are we doing here?” moment. But, everyone had already forked out the cash and sat on a boat for an hour and a half to be there… So everyone just continued to the pretend to be having a whale of a time (no pun intended.)
Umm, Is This Legal?
No, I’m not talking about the devil’s lettuce. That’s perfectly legal in Thailand now, which took some getting used to, but honestly, I don’t really mind it.
Actually, I’m talking about a new-years beauty pageant on the beach for young boys in drag! You know the ones, right?
NYE on Koh Muk almost had it all! Cheap cocktails, the quiet slosh of the tide, fireworks lighting up the sky, and the eventual countdown. But then a crowd started to form, and a show began. Curious, we went to check it out.
At first, it looked like a standard pageant (which I’m also not sure about), with a line of excited, sparkly-dressed 10(ish) year olds, waiting to parade across the sand. But after a few audible voice cracks and some closer inspection, it became clear this was… not your typical pageant.
I have my opinions, but I’ll keep them to myself – I’m not here to bash other cultures. But, let’s just say I quietly retreated to the nearest bar and ordered the cocktail with all the alcohols in it.
It Was Nostalgic, Though.
Well – not the cross-dressing kids, but the island itself.
Koh Muk stirred up memories of my first visit to Thailand over a decade ago. That slow-paced, hammock-swaying, mentality that I loved so much. I mean, they don’t even bother with taxi fares here – it’s just a flat rate! Two minutes down the road, or across the entire island. It’s 50 baht – I love that!
I should also mention the Emerald Cave – a pretty spectacular bit of geology. You swim (or paddle) through a tunnel in the limestone cliffs, emerging into what was once a cavern. The roof must have collapsed long ago, leaving behind a crystal-clear, greenish pool with a tiny sandy beach, surrounded by towering, jungle-y rock walls.
It’s great, but get there by taxi boat!
We went by kayak, and it almost led to divorce… If you’re looking for a true test of your marriage, try paddling a shared kayak one kilometre out to sea. Good luck!
Pak Meng: The Anomaly… Mostly.
I’m going off-piste here – or maybe this is back on-piste? I dunno.
Anyway, Pak Meng was Thailand’s only saving grace for us.
A week into our time in the country, we were already plotting the swiftest route to the Cambodian border. The options were: head toward Phuket and Krabi, or veer in the opposite direction to the bit of Thailand that no one ever talks about… It was a no brainer!
We chose to avoid the hives of mentally depraved, hormone-fuelled, spliff zombies, and head to the mainland.
“Thailand is Cheap”
More accurately, Thailand WAS cheap.
Don’t get me wrong, compared to the UK, it’s still practically like living for free. But everyone raves about Thailand as THE cheap place in Southeast Asia. But, in our experience it really wasn’t at all…
Yes, prices are inflated in the islands, and the busy season probably made it worse. But, we were burning through cash at the same rate as we were in Malaysia. It was a disappointing surprise, and sadly, Pak Meng wasn’t any different!
Even though we were basically the only foreign tourists there, the place was packed with Thai tourists celebrating New Years. It was a lovely place to be, among the locals, but it was not a wallet-friendly one!
Get a Moped
The best part about Pak Meng, aside from the superb lack of other bald British blokes, was renting a moped and exploring.
We knew there were a few things to check out, but there was almost zero information online. So, we just hit the road and went roaming.
Turns out, this was our favourite thing in Thailand, riding half-aimlessly between towering limestone karsts, winding along coastal roads, and feeling like we were on an adventure. No English signs, very few restaurants & cafes, it was just us and a few plastic bottles of gasoline – fantastic!
The Hot Spring
While zooming around on our moped, we tracked down Bor Hin Farmstay – a place we’d read about but could find zero information for!
This was good because I’d heard whispers of a hidden hot spring, tucked away among the mangroves, inaccessible to the public and tourist-free. We booked a tour on the spot and set off.
Once there, our guide – who did not speak a word of English – led us across a very rotten boardwalk and pointed off the end of it. Below was a muddy hole filled with shimmering blue water that reeked like my rear end the day after a challenging curry…
Not quite the secluded paradise I’d imagined, but it was still super cool!
Well… actually… cool is exactly what is was not!
It was skin-searingly hot, which I only discovered after caking myself in the supposedly nourishing mud. The guide hadn’t exactly warned us about that when he gleefully beckoned us in.
It took me a solid 20 minutes to gingerly splash it all off… I did squeal a few times.
Trang: Well… It’s a Place.
People come here just to leave again – by bus or train.
Aside from that, there is absolutely nothing of note.
By the way, if you’re traveling in high season, make sure to book your train well in advance – we got caught out, and it was extremely annoying.
Orange Jelly
I love jelly. No idea why… It’s a bit of a guilty pleasure, I suppose.
So, when I spotted slices of glistening orange jelly while milling around Trang’s entirely average night market, I had to take a closer look.
It was about 50p for a brick of the stuff, the size of 2 decks of cards, stacked together. Bargain, right?
Wrong! The first bite confused me. Maybe my palate was still recovering from the spicy Tom Yum I’d just fought through, or perhaps the smoggy air was having an effect… The second bite, however, confirmed it – this was not orange jelly.
What I had just willingly ingested was some kind of congealed fusion of egg and old dishwater. The taste was unforgivable, and I knew, deep in my bowel, that this was something my digestive system would trip over – which it did.
I haven’t touched jelly since… Maybe it actually fixed me?!
Khao Sok: Another Trap
Only humans could take a place of such mental natural beauty and turn it into an exercise in patience and deep breathing.
Google it, or check my Instagram, you’ll see how incredible it is.
What you won’t see is the hordes of tourists shuttled in from Phuket and Krabi. If you’re lucky, you’ll be among a herd of 50 freshly tattooed, rowdy party-goers. If you’re unlucky, it’ll be more. Either way, you’ll all be ferried around in countless long-tail boats, their two-stroke engines chugging and echoing through the entire park, drowning out any of the natural serenity!
Human Cattle
Once you’ve done Khao Sok in high season, you will truly understand what it’s like to be livestock. You’ve seen the farmers wrangling them on and off trailers, often a little short-temperedly, right?
Well, this was exactly like that – except we didn’t get the luxury of sh*ting and p*ssing where we stood. Honestly, I’d have happily done so on a few occasions if it meant a moment of alone!
At one point, five or six boats lined up, all waiting for each and every bikini-clad selfie-gremlin to take endless photos in front of a rock. It took over an hour, and it wasn’t even the best rock there! If they love rocks so much, they should go to Pak Meng!
Petting an Otter
I’ve discovered that nothing soothes the soul quite like tickling an otter’s tummy.
The best part of our time in Khao Sok was before the tour, when we stayed at August Freedom Campsite. Perched on the river, it’s the perfect place to crack a beer and float lazily downstream in an inner tube – just don’t drift too far, because there’s no path back!
But most importantly, there were otters!
Two utterly moronic otters live close by, and they bring another dimension to spending a lazy afternoon at the camp. They wrestle, squeak like kittens, and best of all, love a good belly rub.
So – skip the lake, find the otters!
Bangkok: Hot Sardines
There’s an ongoing theme of our Thailand trip – It’s BUSY.
I was almost a city convert after Kuala Lumpur, Penang, and Singapore. But Thailand’s capital burst that bubble – completely.
Bangkok has Jakarta levels of traffic, but with the added bonus of a mind-bending number of tourists. Which brings an unholy amount of scams, tourist traps, shoulder barging, and heat. God, it was hot…
Shimmying around the Grand Palace, or any major sight, felt like being crammed into a sardine can – one that had been left in the sun for hours! It was slimy, smelly, and could explode from pressure build-up at any moment.
Highly unpleasant, and again, not very cheap.
It’s Gonna Take An Hour
Reminiscent of our boat journeys in Raja Ampat, if you’re using public transport in Bangkok, everything will be an hour away – at least. It doesn’t matter where you’re going; traffic and poor infrastructure will make sure you don’t arrive quickly.
This phenomenon made us miss a train, forced us to trudge around in the baking sun far more than we’d have liked, and ultimately, made us seriously question our hotel choice.
We’d picked a place supposedly 20 minutes by tuk-tuk from the centre and close to the train station. It was a quieter area, granted, but there were no taxis or tuk-tuks in sight, and the nearest main road was permanently gridlocked! Every time we wanted to go anywhere, we had to walk a mile in the wrong direction just to get to the metro line.
Trousers… An Army of Them!
Walk around Bangkok, and you’ll notice something – every non-Thai person is wearing the same pair of trousers… The colours may vary, but the cut, pattern, and style are identical.
At first, we laughed – “Ahhh, the gap-yaaah kids. They’ve all finally found themselves, how lovely.”
But less than an hour later, we found ourselves handing over a fistful of baht to a local stall on the street… I went for orange. Sigh.
Exposed knees aren’t allowed at many of the major sights, including the Grand Palace. Unsurprisingly, the streets surrounding the entrances are lined with vendors selling the same cheap trousers, creating an army of tw*ts in trousers.
To be fair, the quality was top notch – mine didn’t start falling apart for at least 45 minutes. Just long enough to get through the entrance!
The Get Out Of Jail Free Card – Ayutthaya
This is a bit of a cop-out, I know, but the only good thing about Bangkok was getting out of Bangkok.
We hated it so much that we jumped on a train to Ayutthaya, an hour and a half away. Which, by the way, only cost 50p per person… How?!
Leave early-ish, take the ferry across the river, rent a bike, and then explore. The ancient capital is pretty stunning and super easy to get around on your own. It’s a little touristy, but the area is so vast that it never feels uncomfortably crowded.
Koh Kood: A Strange Place
Hailed as one of Thailand’s last ‘off the beaten path’ islands, we had high hopes for some respite before heading to Cambodia. But, well, that didn’t quite happen…
We should have seen the red flags while struggling to find somewhere to stay – the island was completely booked up! The only thing left within our budget was a single tent on a campsite – which, tragically, was right next to an annual music festival. We timed out stay fantastically…
Every night, well past midnight, ground-shaking Thai music blasted unrelentingly. Some fellow campers actually gave up and fled, taking their chances elsewhere. Mary-Ann and I just jammed earplugs deep into our skulls, took a few slugs of cheap brandy, and prayed for sleep.
We did check out the festival a couple of times, and honestly, it was fascinating; a bizarre mix of hook-the-duck stalls, dunk tanks with scantily clad Thai women dancing next to them, and drunk old couples arguing in front of the stage. We walked past massive vats of bubbling noodle soups, flashing neon lights, baffling dance ensembles, and polystyrene boxes over flowing with iced cans of Chang. It was fun for an hour or so, but when you can’t escape it, not even once you’re in bed, it is not so fun…
Little Russia
Possibly the oddest thing about Koh Kood, was the sheer number of Russians. It’s not a bad thing, but as with any place overrun with tourists, it makes it all a little less paradisical!
They were, without question, the dominant flavour of tourist while we were there. We visited one beach that was exclusively Russian except for us! It was quite surreal, but honestly, they’re not too different from British tourists! Permanently drunk, sunburned, and squeezed into budgie smugglers that should be illegal. If I squinted (a lot), and ignored the white sand and Russian accents, I could have mistaken it for Bournemouth!
Beach Hopping
I’m not much of a beach person. Mary-Ann enjoys them more than I do, but even she has her limits. Sitting with a cocktail or a book (or both) is fine for an hour or so, but eventually, I come to a crossroads – either drink (a lot) more, or do something else.
For me, a beach needs caves, rock pools, or snorkelling – something to keep the smooth grey ball of mush in my noggin engaged. Koh Kood’s beaches are postcard-perfect stretches of sand – very nice to look at, but not much else going on.
So, we mixed it up a little and rented a moped to beach-hop our way around the entire island. We checked them all out, took in the views, and had a grand ol’ time.
Enough is Enough
OK, now that I’ve got all that off my chest – I apologise. But I do feel cleansed.
If I never go to Thailand again, I won’t be upset. If you hadn’t noticed, we weren’t exactly enchanted by its charms. I think it’s been over-used and abused, and the whole place feels like it! The country and its people just seem worn out and fed-up by it all, and the dent in our budget was… well, unexpectedly painful!
It served its purpose, by getting us to Cambodia without a flight, and for that I cannot complain! But, if we ever do go back, my sole mission will be to find all of the Pak Mengs and avoid all of the grim mass tourism – which seems to be most of the country these days…
Oh, and I’ll also make sure to bring more pairs of trousers, and ones with deeper pockets!
Stay bald folks.
Toodles,
Jack
