Khao Sok to Chumpon

Saying goodbye to Ban Chiao Lan and the mountainous karst vista of Khao Sok behind us, we cycled north and east, toward the Gulf of Thailand coast.
Cycling into a slight headwind provided a nice cooling breeze, to hold off the heat effects of the morning sun.
On route we bumped into another cycling couple, Jeroen and Ruby from the Netherlands. As we grabbed some shade and a drink outside a 7-11, they pulled up and introduced themselves. Super laid back, Dutch, and travelling quite light, they had bikepacked Chiang Mai in the north and then flew down south to explore, and now headed back to Bangkok to fly home. We talked for a while about dogs, camping, roads and other topics of chat that cyclists seem to fall into.
Hitting the busy roads north of Surat Thani required a period riding along the highway and tricky negotiation of a couple of really unpleasant junctions.
Cycling along the wide hard shoulder of a ‘motorway’ meant we didn’t feel too exposed, but we had to pass across several on ramps, and then make a right turn across a three lanes, to reach an overpass to exit. 😫
A manoeuvre we would never attempt in the UK.
Thailand, however, is a different bag. Certain things are tolerated e.g. travelling down the hard shoulder of a carriageway in the opposite direction of traffic. No one bats an eyelid.
Our state of calm returned after leaving the expressway, and enjoyed riding through the bustling town of Tha Chang, past roadside stalls and a variety of vendors. People stopped to buy fruit, vegetables, and meat ‘popsicles’ - grilled meat served on a stick. Amanda bought some vegetables for our evening meal and the lady running the stall found it most amusing that we only wanted one carrot, one onion and one cucumber. The same puzzlement occurs in vendors when we buy bananas, which are commonly sold by the tree sized bunch. We have resorted to miming a ‘chopping action’ to indicate we only want a few.
Our nights ‘camp’ would be in a Wat that we had Googled. The temple grounds were set below a large limestone mogote and there was a series of shrines set high up on it. When we arrived the Wat seemed deserted. Most Wats we had been to seem deserted of people but are colonies for animals - dogs, cats, roosters, cows. Where are all the monks?
As if by magic, a lone orange robed small elderly gentlemen appeared in the distance. We cycled over and I had my translation ready to ask permission to camp. I think the monk may have used glasses to read. He struggled to read the translation, so we muddled on!
We reached an understanding and he led us to where we could set up. As we put up our tent, another young monk appeared, smiled and said hello and then disappeared. He returned a short time later with some bottles of water, a toilet roll, soap and talc. This kindness and generosity humbled us but we may have looked like we were in need!
After setting up and as dusk was approaching, we hurriedly climbed the many steps to see the shrines set into the limestone cliff. The Wat now far below, the view across the canopy of trees toward the sea in the far distance appeared all hazy in the pink sunlight. Strange noises began to form a chorus around us. The screech of an owl pierced the hypnotic rave like hum of insects, that built to a crescendo,
and then, suddenly, they stopped. Rave over, time for bed!

Returning to the tent, we managed to startle a large horned cow in the darkness (both the cow and ourselves jumped). We retired to our tent and tried to doze off in the calm evening, its silence occasionally broken by the bark of one of the many temple dogs. We were prevented from our slumber by the sound of karaoke drifting over from a bar in the local village, which went on until nearly midnight. We slipped off to sleep, only to be awoken by a loud gong around 4:30am. A waking call to the monks, announcing the start of a new day, and part of the daily ritual of gong and drum. Now we too were awake and experiencing the biorhythm of monastic life.
At 4:45am, the gong was followed by a period of chanting in a low, steady and constant tone.
I was fast asleep by this stage so Amanda bore witness to this and managed to translate some of it using her phone. It lasted one hour and in a much shortened, paraphrased brief, contained the following mantra…

“The Lord Buddha is the supreme being. I entrust this Dhamma to you, the teachings of the Buddha. This is the Dhamma that I have learned. I humbly bow before you. I pay homage to the Blessed. He is the teacher of both gods and humans, knowing himself, awakened and enlightened”.

Amanda was ‘awakened’ certainly! Our enlightenment continued, as the cockerels welcomed dawn with their cacophony and made our nights sleep feel like a short nap.
I love the feeling of peace and calm of a Buddhist temple. Ironically the dogs, cows, gong and chanting meant it was noisier than a Saturday night in our city centre flat at home. However, I felt that it was all part of acknowledging the sounds of life, the living temple and of the spiritual growth gained!

Onward next day and we rode alongside the Gulf of Thailand, getting glimpses of the aquamarine sea between palm trees that hugged the coast.
We found we were the sole campers that evening at a small campsite looking out onto the ocean. We arrived with no-one around to pay and no answer from the phone number to call. I managed to beckon a man over who was working in the garden next door. He seemed to understand our request to camp. We weren’t sure he was the owner. He made a phone call. Then we asked how much. He told us the cost. We paid him the money and assumed that he would pass it on, to the actual owner. We weren’t sure but at least we tried and someone knew we were there.
The next days ride to Chumpon was a mixed bag. We spotted colourful fishing boats moored up as we crossed creeks on the highway. We travelled along shady lanes, amongst coconut palm plantations, whilst folk toiled at their work, covered from head to toe to protect themselves against the sun, as they tilled the soil, or collected crops.
We stopped briefly by a few beaches. and found that they were strewn with rubbish which was very sad. Mostly plastic - bottles, bags, shoes, caps, single use cups. Stretching out along the sand into the distance, it was a sad and depressing sight. Items that had found their way to the shore, washed up the sea and deposited at the high tide mark. The beaches pristine white blighted by humankind’s unwanted items and displayed in a band of shame.
This contrasted to the beauty of the landscapes, flora and fauna we had experienced in Thailand already. I suppose the detritus was unsurprising in regard to the high use of single use plastics here. Take away food and drinks are provided in plastic cups, often accompanied by a straw and a bag to carry it all in. Mostly all drinks bought in a food court, from a street vendor or roadside shack, and even in a cafe or restaurant, are supplied in single use plastic cups, rather than crockery. Plastics bags are given automatically. We refuse them when possible, giveback our straws and buy coffee using our travel mugs. We have certainly contributed to this mountain of plastic by buying bottled water. Although, we recently found that they do have water refill but they are not always obvious. How great it would be if every 7-11, gas station and service area had a refill station, with potable water.

By late afternoon, we were back on a highway, now busy with large Ute’s and other cars and trucks spewing thick black exhaust smoke ‘clouds’ that lingered in the air.
We approached Chumpon somewhat tired and arrived at our guesthouse for the night. It was enclosed by trees and backed onto a river. We looked forward to a good nights sleep, bathed only in the peace - no karaoke, gongs, chanting or otherwise!Læs mere