GruffyddA Journal Entry
When I think back on Thailand, I don’t think of one single moment, I think of the feeling. The heat hitting you as you step out of the airport in Bangkok. The smell of street food smoke mixing with humidity. The sound of motorbikes, laughter, and someone yelling “tuk-tuk!” before you’ve even found your bag.
I didn’t see all of Thailand, just the south, but it felt like a world within itself. From chaotic cities to quiet beaches, fire shows to temples, strangers to friends. Southern Thailand wasn’t just a place we passed through; it was the heartbeat of the trip.
Bangkok – The Crash Course
It all started in Bangkok, loud, hot, humid, and relentless. The kind of place that hits you all at once.
We’d flown halfway across the world, landed after a long connection in Qatar, and jumped into a taxi that moved slower than walking speed through endless traffic. That was Bangkok: constant movement, constant sound.
We stayed in hostels near Khao San Road, where tuk-tuks screeched past and vendors tried to sell us scorpions to eat. The heat was heavy, the smells were strong, and everything felt just slightly chaotic, but that chaos was addictive. We explored temples, dodged scams, and ended our nights covered in neon paint, surrounded by strangers-turned-friends.
Bangkok was our introduction to Thailand’s madness, and our reminder to slow down and laugh when things went sideways.
Phuket – Beaches and Madness
A short flight later, Phuket welcomed us with sea air and sunshine. After Bangkok’s chaos, it felt calmer, but only for a minute. We stayed at Mad Monkey Hostel, which was basically a never-ending social event. Quiz nights, beer pong, bar crawls, there was always something happening.
Days were spent at Patong Beach, watching the sun sink behind the ocean, and evenings at night markets, choosing dinner from rows of sizzling woks and smiling vendors.
Phuket had its own kind of energy, beach bars, pool tables, street chaos, and while it was touristy, it was still brilliant fun. It was our first proper taste of Thailand’s coastal side, and it set the tone for the islands that followed.
Koh Phi Phi – Paradise and Parties
Koh Phi Phi was small but full of life, a postcard by day and a full-blown party by night.
The ferry ride in was unforgettable: turquoise water, limestone cliffs rising out of the sea, longtail boats drifting between them.
We stayed at Coco’s Guesthouse, a quiet spot away from the noise, which was a welcome change after Phuket. But it didn’t take long before we found the fun, Muay Thai fights at the Reggae Bar, fire shows on the beach, and drinks under glowing lights.
We hiked to the Phi Phi Viewpoint early one morning, sweating our way up for one of the most beautiful views of the trip. Later, we sprinted to join a last-minute boat tour that took us around the islands, Maya Bay, Monkey Beach, snorkelling stops that looked like movie scenes.
Phi Phi was paradise, but with just the right amount of madness.
Krabi – Chaos and Connection
Then came Krabi, maybe the most unexpectedly brilliant stop of them all.
We were meant to stay two nights and ended up staying four.
At Nomads Ao Nang, the first thing that happened was someone knocking on our door with a bottle of rum, handing out shots and signing us up for the pub crawl. That pretty much summed Krabi up, friendly chaos.
Days were spent kayaking through mangroves, getting stuck between tree trunks, and laughing until we cried. We visited Railay Beach, easily one of the most beautiful places in Thailand, surrounded by towering cliffs. We stumbled on hidden river spots where locals swam, laughed, and called us “Harry Potter” for reasons still unknown.
The nights? Loud quizzes, beer funnels, and one legendary 3 a.m. pool volleyball match that somehow involved the entire hostel. Krabi was pure energy, messy, human, and unforgettable.
Koh Tao – Calm in the Chaos
By the time I reached Koh Tao, I needed a breather. It was a solo ferry for me, an overnight ride next to the air-con unit that made it impossible to sleep. But waking up to sunrise over calm seas made up for it.
Koh Tao was slower, smaller, softer. I stayed first at Revolution Hostel, met a group of travellers within hours, and spent the morning swimming half-asleep in crystal-clear water. It was the kind of island where you make friends instantly and feel at home by the evening.
Later, me and my mate reunited at Tiger House Hostel, explored the beaches, played rooftop volleyball while a DJ played against the sunset, and took part in the island’s famous bar crawl — which, predictably, ended with everyone in the pool.
We rode bikes with our Aussie mates from Phuket, snorkelled at Shark Bay, found a hidden beach bar, and had the best duck dish of the entire trip. Koh Tao was peaceful but still social, the balance I didn’t know I needed.
Koh Pha-Ngan – Full Moon Fever
Then came the island everyone talks about: Koh Pha-Ngan.
We stayed in what was basically a converted shipping container with our Aussie friends from earlier in the trip. Our host, Nut, was the kindest man imaginable, he even drove us himself to the Full Moon Party in the back of his pickup truck.
That night was indescribable: neon paint, buckets of drinks, fire shows, DJs blasting every genre imaginable, and thousands of people dancing barefoot on the sand. And the best part? Everywhere we turned, we ran into familiar faces, people we’d met in Bangkok, Phuket, Phi Phi, Krabi, and Koh Tao. It was like the entire backpacker trail had converged on one beach for one night.
It was chaos, but it was wholesome chaos, the kind that makes you smile even when you’re exhausted.
Koh Samui – The Perfect Ending
Our final stop was Koh Samui, and it felt like everything we’d seen before rolled into one. It had energy, beauty, calm, and a real sense of balance.
We stayed at Ubox Hostel, instantly bonding with our roommates, two from England, two from Scotland, and a couple of girls we met in the common area who joined our group for the week.
Samui had everything: temples, beaches, bars, and cafés. One day I explored the Big Buddha and nearby temples with a friend from Koh Tao. Another, we played foot golf, which got a little too competitive (I won, for the record).
Evenings were a mix of chilled and social, cheap restaurants with fans spinning overhead and TVs showing the Euros, sunset bars with live saxophone players, and quiet pool halls where the owners insisted on feeding us fruit between games.
Days melted into each other, beaches, scooter rides, waterfall hikes, and the kind of sunsets that stop you mid-sentence. I even met my mate’s aunt, uncle, and cousin for a game of padel under floodlights, the most unexpected family reunion of the trip.
After four nights in the lively part of town, we moved somewhere quieter for our final two days — a reset before flying home. We spent them swimming, reading, and watching the sun disappear into the horizon, trying to process everything that had happened over the past few weeks.
Looking Back
Southern Thailand gave us everything: chaos, calm, culture, and connection. We met people from all over the world, shared stories with strangers who became friends, and experienced moments that don’t fit neatly into photos or captions.
Everywhere we went, we found the same rhythm — friendly faces, fans spinning in small cafés, food stalls sizzling on the street, music playing somewhere in the distance. Thailand runs on its own energy, and once you tap into it, it’s hard to let go.
I didn’t see northern Thailand or the islands on the other side of the country, but what I did see was enough to understand why travellers never stop coming back.
Because Thailand isn’t just about beaches or parties, it’s about feeling alive.
And that’s exactly what Southern Thailand gave me.
