22/3/25
We’d organised our included breakfast to be bagged up so we could leave promptly. In the end we weren’t ready to leave until a little after 7am. We spent some time talking to the owner and her daughter. It was really interesting to hear from Thai people. It rose our consciousness of the culture . We weren’t able to have any deeper interaction with most of the population. Just simple things about pronunciation or etiquette evaded us.
They’d recommended a coffee shop. A bilateral agreement. They have something called a mokka pot. It’s what we know as a bialetti, but they call it a mokka pot. We had the tastiest coffee we’d had in a couple of months. We hadn’t managed to leave early. Far from it. We forgot a bottle of water in the fridge. The hotel was still close so we nipped back. It was after eight now.
We headed out of town on a busy commuter road. Our breakfast bungeed to the back of the green Surly. After 5km we passed a visually beautiful temple complex. We made the snap decision to stop and eat. We sat in a pointed shelter by the river taking in the early morning vibe.
The rice had been cooked inside bamboo. The other items were dessert like and wrapped in banana leaves. When we headed off we took a slight detour. We were being tested by a large number of hounds. On reflection we agreed that despite the number of hounds we’d seen there hadn’t been any dangerous or serious incidents. A lot of people have found dogs restrict their cycling, but we found them to be more scared of us.
The road, 3178, we returned to out of Petchaburi was very long and straight. Our hosts had confirmed that we should take it to the coast where there was a beautiful temple for us to see. There were many agricultural fields but there were trees on each side. The Sun was beginning to breakthrough and the wind wasn’t nearly as strong. It was a much brighter start to our day than the day before.
We stopped in Ban Laem to see an old palace of King Taksin and saw a mummified body which a monk gladly showed us. We know it isn’t the king but we have no idea who it is. Outside was a shrine with dozens of chicken statues. As we left, taking a slight detour to avoid a closed bridge, the road was dusty despite being brand new. The road sliced through a large number of open pools. This was salt refining country. We were more windswept now. There were no trees, so no shade and no protection from the wind.
After a brief toilet stop at the petrol station we reached the recommended temple. A large circular building with a Chinese shrine on the ground floor. On the first floor was a Thai shrine. We finished off our breakfast. A couple more banana leaf wrapped puddings. Then we got back to the grind.
We crossed a mighty bridge into the next town. Low gear required. It was probably the most ascent we would do all day. From the top we could see an incredible view of fishing shacks on stilts out to sea. It was a wonder how they survived the tide, let alone storms.
Apart from the insane number of temples that we passed, nothing else happened. The flat lands gave rise to windy, dead straight roads. A cycle path appeared. We were on the ‘scenic route’ again. The 2021 had a narrow suicide lane and quite a high volume of traffic that seemed to be more impatient. Perhaps our proximity to Bangkok was to blame. The road became very windy towards its end. There were a large number of businesses rather than the large pools of water we’d be passing.
We abruptly hit Rama II road. A triple laned highway. At first we joined the highway because that’s the route that we’d been advised on the whatsapp group. After careful but swift surveillance of the Google satellite photos we realised there was a frontage road. It ran perfectly parallel. We’d have to keep going onto the main highway for the occasional water or dirch crossing, but for the most part it shielded us from the heavy traffic.
We went a little bit too far on the side road and had to backtrack to cross the Mae Klong river. We were soon sailing over the water. Initially on a quiet, just resurfaced, road, we were moved onto busier streets quickly. Weaving through the traffic, and across the railway. We peered down the tracks and saw the fabled ‘railway track’ market. Our hostel was a mere 200m further down the road. We’d almost stayed in a fancier hotel a little further out, but it sold out, and our die was cast.
Hometown hostel was run by a Thai woman who spoke near perfect English. Her mother appeared to be lying in a cot behind the fridge next to reception. It took a couple of little bits of speech before we realised where she was talking to. Our bikes were allowed to slot in by the front window. We were in a private room, which was tiny with just a set of bunk beds, on the second floor.
After a shower we headed out to the ‘railway market’. The receptionist told us that she still enjoyed visiting when the trains were coming, even though she’d been dozens of times. So, it must be worthwhile. We walked down through a parade of food stalls to reach the railway line. Where the railway line crossed the road, it was possible to use the track like a street.
We were doing the forbidden: walking down train tracks. One of the most harshly warned about dangers in the UK. We saw more western faces in 2 minutes than we’d seen in two days. The spectacle, is to wait for the train to arrive and watch the stall holders quickly hoist away the awnings in the nick of time. This happens about four times a day. The next train was due at 2:30pm. People had started lining up or taking up seating at restaurants. Phones sticking out on sticks. A tourist guide was advising his group to take the ‘front of the train’ selfie followed by the ‘rear of the train’. It was an extremely touristy affair. The novelty of it was still intriguing. We’d arrived here by chance, but Maeklong railway market was instagram renown.
We only walked through once, and returned via the comparably shabbier road behind the railway market. Buying half a kilo of jackfruit on the way. We hadn’t been reading in the common space for very long, when Ines approached us. She was from Spain and had also just arrived. We accepted an invitation to go to the market with her.
The bus stop was a short walk from the hostel. An almost full bus was about to leave when we arrived. It was only 10 baht each to be taken to Amphawa floating market. The moment we stepped off the bus we were being harangued about a boat. But it’s far more convenient to walk about. In fact, we couldn’t really understand why it was called a floating market at all. No trade was being conducted between boats. There were just lines of familiar looking stalls on platforms several metres above the water.
We ambled around for a while. Ines seemed to have a similar mindset as ourselves when it came to being upsold. She was content to just look around. However, on discovering our chosen vegan restaurant was now closed, we started buying up dinner in the form of little treats. Sweet potato balls, oyster mushrooms, and our favourite, squidgy deep fried tofu. The latter was so good we went back for seconds, much to Ines’s amusement.
Back at the bus stop, we were asked once more if we were going to Bangkok, before being told there were no more buses. Tuk Tuk it was then. We clambered into the tight little seating area. We understood the appeal almost immediately. They’re stupidly fast machines. Putting to one side that the slightest accident meant certain serious injury, we enjoyed the experience.
When we got back we sought to remedy our beige dinner and bought a big box of pick’n’mix salad. We couldn’t resist buying even more tofu, this time Japanese style, and crispy corn rolls stuffed with taro. Ines had gone to her room. Spanish people don’t eat till almost midnight. But maybe we spooked her with all our veganism. We ate downstairs, food was forbidden upstairs, while the owner continued loudly streaming Moana. We finished by eating an extremely creamy type of coconut and a papaya that we’d obtained.
When we went to our little hole we didn’t manage to go straight to sleep. First we booked accommodation in Bangkok. Then it became apparent that we were a little further away from the capital than was ideal. All notions of wiggling our way into the city on a more scenic, low traffic route, quickly evaporated. We’d have to find a more direct route. Riding into Bangkok was considered to be notoriously difficult. But then so was every city we’d encountered.
Surly They Won't Make It 