Hello Thailand!

After departing Malay immigration on Langkawi island, a ferry transported us to Satun province and country No. 6! We’ve cycled over 3700 miles (6000km) so far and excited to now be in Thailand, a country we’ve visited before and loved. Amanda’s aunt, and friend Jason, lived here for many years and it’s good to have tapped into their knowledge of the place.

Tammalang to La-aNgu

Arriving at Tammalang Pier on the Thai mainland, we disembarked at a small sleepy ferry terminal. Last off the boat - all the other passengers were gunning to get off, crowding by the exit door long before the boat had even pulled into dock! - the bikes were ready and waiting thanks to the efficient ferry staff. We loaded up the panniers once more.
The queue for immigration was long and it took over an hour to pass through.

After a couple of hours of riding, the sense of being in a different country was palpable. Although the southern states of Thailand have a lot in common with their Malaysian neighbour - they are majority muslim and palm oil still seems to be prevalent, smiles were more readily offered and Thai towns are ascetically more pleasing than many of the towns we passed through in Malaysia.

Empty roads through green lush coconut palm, rubber plantations and mangrove coaxed us through small hamlets.
Wats (Buddhist Temples) started to reveal themselves. The glint of a shiny golden stupa peeking through the forest.
Riding through our first large Thai town we stopped for some food and it zinged with flavour, fresh and tasty. We felt relaxed about the new place and next stage of our journey, I think due in part to an element of being able to better recognise cafes, restaurants and stores, despite signs written in the beautiful Thai script.

The highway was quiet, surfaced in a smooth dreamy tarmac, making our progress seem light and quick. Limestone karst outcrops rose to either side and made us feel small.
Our first night was spent in a lovely chalet bungalow on the outskirts of La-Ngu village. The temperature already felt a bit cooler, the evening warm and balmy.

La-Ngu to Thung Yao

After a peaceful sleep, we awoke to melodious babble of a pair of Yellow-vented bulbuls that perched right outside our window and performed their sweet morning song for us.
Buoyed by our first full day riding in Thailand, we set out to ride a short day of 30 miles. Stopping for lunch at a small roadside shack in the middle of what seemed like nowhere, we were welcomed by the proprietor and her friends. With limited Thai we managed to communicate the need for food with no meat and fish and received very delicious rice with Thai omelette, cucumber and dipping sauce. Good food, good feeling! Explaining we were aiming for Laos she kindly urged us not to go near the Cambodian conflict zone, making a ‘bang, bang’ gun action and saying please stay away, “very bad, very bad”.

Stupid Cupid, stop looking at me! Thung Yao was our destination and we arrived late afternoon to check into the lone hotel in the area. The Cupid Hotel. ♥️
We arrived to the sound of a pickup truck with a blaring sound system, its dismembered voice loudly campaigning in Thai. We had noticed several large campaign posters by the side of the road, with various candidate’s photographs on them throughout the day for the upcoming general election, which will determine the make up of the Thai House of Representatives.
Our arrival of this day of the campaign coincided with an alcohol ban for 24 hours and so our first beer in Thailand (that we were very much look forward to) had to be postponed! A large fine and six month prison sentence was the penalty for those breaking the 24 hour period of selling abstinence.
Dogs, dogs and more dogs. 🐕 🐕 🐕
This town had many roving feral hounds. Seemingly unadopted, but looking reasonably fed and not too bedraggled, often dozing in the shade, hanging out like teenagers in small groups on waste ground, or trotting to some place looking purposeful. Most looked similar in appearance.

Thung Yao to Baan Namthip.

Next morning we set off on a 42 mile day. A combo of highways and empty ‘B’ roads weaving through a rural landscape.
The highways had a big hard shoulder, so even though traffic was fast we felt safe. Smooth surfaces and great views contributed to two happy cyclists! We saw hardly anyone all day.

Rubber began to replace the palm oil plantations. The distinctive latex sap of the rubber trees gathered in white ‘balls’ inside collecting cups fixed to trees became a common site. Its sickly smell alerted us to its presence, particularly when a pickup truck passed full of the harvested stuff, leaving a trail of dripping smelly liquid behind it as it overtook us.
The road became a lane, then a dirt track, then a lane again and after passing through a small village, we rolled into the Bann Namthip Homestay and were welcomed with the biggest beaming smile of Mr. San.

San was the owner of the place which consisted of about 4 chalet bungalows and he ran the local shop, and served food, cooked by his wife. He instantly made us feel welcome and right at home. Surrounded by trees, flowers and birdsong it was a lovely place to spend the night. San had a good energy about him, infectiously warm and generous (he fed us like family and made us a large three-course breakfast which included a savoury ‘starter’ and some sweet glutinous rice treats served in banana leaves). I felt I wouldn’t be able to cycle afterward as my belly was so full! He was passionate about food, about meeting people and the enjoyment of his guests. He told us that he changed profession from doing 20+ years marketing for a timeshare company. Due to the high workload, long hours and pressure to sell, leading to worry, and lack of sleep, he recognised things needed to change. He bought this land and expanded the place, developing it over five years to be a homestay and named it after his daughter.
He said it was the best decision he made and I would agree - he has found his calling.
He runs its along side a small rubber producing concern and explained to us that collecting the latex is often done in the early hours of the morning due to the colder night temperatures, which help the tree release its sap.

Baan Namthip to Khlong Yang.

Grinding out the miles on mostly highway, long straights and through dusty road construction sections on a fairly unremarkable day, minivans buzzed passed us at speed, on a mission to transport their tourists to whatever island resort they were being transferred to. Closer now to the tourist mecca of Krabi, - white beaches and large megalithic green islands rising from the green-blue Andaman sea. We were hoping that Koh Lanta would not be too touristy.

Khlong Yang to Koh Lanta

In the morning we headed south down the peninsula toward the ferry for the short ferry trip to Koh Lanta. When we woke up we didn’t anticipate a surprising encounter with some goats. At a brief stop for a cold iced coffee we were approached by a man in wellington boots asking us if we had eaten goat curry?! “No” we replied. He then pointed to the packets of Goat Curry, branded in the name of his farm, to which the cafe adjoined. He asked us if we wanted to feed some baby goats! Of course we said yes, trying not to think of where the goats would eventually end up, if you get me.
With purpose he strode on, grabbing a baby bottle full of milk on the way. We followed him to his top field and into the secure enclosure that contained his goat pen. Constructed of bamboo and raised on stilts and fenced in, small heads with long floppy ears popped up and soft noses squeezed through the gaps. He originally had 200 goats, but as he gets older has reduced down to 100. He alone bottle feeds the kids. A lot of work for him but he said it’s hard to find workers to help him on the farm.
He then showed his pride and joy. The billy goat that is father to all! 60Kg in weight, he lifted it up with its front legs and passed them to me. I couldn’t hold him. I put him down and the large billy proceeded to then try to butt me and pushed his head against me powerfully. As his sharp boney horns were frightfully close to my ‘man-tackle’ I was vigilant and held his horns to guard myself. “Don’t hold his horns. He doesn’t like it” said the man ! I gripped loosely but there was no way I was letting go, for fear of a pointy blow to my nether region. Mr Billygoat had shown that he was master of his domain and I was happy that our encounter ended without incident or embarrassment.
Amanda got to hold and feed a baby goat with milk and we both tried to not think about packets of goat curry back at the cafe - learning that after 9 months, the goats are sent away to be slaughtered.
A random encounter and not what we thought we’d be doing at the start of the day.
The final part of our ride took us right down to the waters edge, and to the small ticket booth, where we paid our fee and waited to board the ferry. Koh Lanta here we come.Læs mere