GruffyddA Journal Entry
The journey from Phuket to Koh Phi Phi was our first ferry experience of the trip, and it started with a near-death laugh. Our taxi driver spent most of the journey watching a film on his tablet, eyes flicking between the road and the screen. When he realised we were English, he kindly switched the audio to English with Thai subtitles, thoughtful, yes, but I’m not sure subtitles should ever be a driver’s priority.
The ferry itself wasn’t bad at all. A bit bumpy, but comfortable enough with spare seats to stretch out on. Bags were piled at the back of the boat, half-covered with a sheet of tarpaulin, and everyone just trusted the system, or rather, trusted that everyone else was too tired to steal anything. That’s the thing about travelling Thailand: there’s a sense of unspoken trust between backpackers. You’re all on the same mission, move, explore, repeat.
As the ferry approached Phi Phi, the landscape started to change. Sheer limestone cliffs rose straight out of turquoise water, longtail boats dotted the coast, and palm trees lined the edges of the bay. It’s one of those views that makes you quietly stop talking mid-sentence, cliché, but true.
Where We Stayed
We checked into Coco’s Guesthouse, a small, simple two-bed setup for me and my mate, a refreshing break from the chaos of dorm life. Just two nights here, and it felt right. Ironically, our Australian roommates from Phuket ended up staying in the same guesthouse, one floor below us. Thailand’s backpacker circuit really is like a game of tag, you keep bumping into the same faces in different places.
Later that night, we ran into two more people we’d met in Bangkok. At this point, it felt like travelling through a moving friendship web, no plans, no coordination, yet somehow everyone ends up in the same bar again.
Nights on the Island
Phi Phi’s nightlife feels like a smaller, more relaxed version of Phuket’s madness, still busy, but with more charm. We spent the first evening at the Reggae Bar, famous for its Muay Thai ring. The fights started out serious, but then the staff began pulling volunteers from the crowd to fight each other for a free bucket of alcohol.
One of our Aussie mates jumped in, confident, swinging wildly, only to get paired with someone who’d clearly done this before. A few punches later, he was lying on the mat but came back grinning, clutching his prize bucket. As he said: “Lost the fight, won the night.”
Later we drifted toward the beach bars, where fire shows lit up the sand. “Free entry” always came with a catch, buy a drink or toss a few coins in a donation bucket, but that was fine. We were there for the view: glowing ropes of fire spinning through the dark, waves rolling just metres away.
At one point, I found myself doing the limbo under a flaming rope while someone next to me tried to ride one of those mechanical bulls that had somehow been dragged onto the sand. Music blasted, people cheered, and it all felt perfectly chaotic.
Days in Paradise
Daytimes were slower. We hiked to the Koh Phi Phi Viewpoint, an easy climb but worth doing early before the sun turns everything into an oven. The view was incredible, two crescent bays divided by a thin strip of land, turquoise water shimmering below. We bumped into a group of Germans we’d met earlier in Phuket just as we were heading down, and they mentioned a boat tour leaving soon.
In true Phi Phi fashion, we sprinted down to the woman selling the tickets, begged her to let us on, and made it, sweaty, out of breath, but on board. The tour was small, local, and full of character. No massive tour boat with speakers blaring, just a handful of us, a smiling captain, and a few coolers of drinks.
We cruised around limestone cliffs, stopped to snorkel in warm, clear water, and visited Maya Bay, made famous by The Beach. It was stunning, yes, but completely overrun with tourists. A quick photo and we were ready to leave. One of the other stops had wild monkeys along the rocks. Our boat driver handed us some fruit to feed them, which sounded great until one monkey decided to jump on the boat. I’m still not sure if that was meant to happen, but it made for good entertainment.
What stood out most was how surreal the scenery felt, like every travel postcard of Thailand had been printed around us. Towering cliffs, emerald sea, longtail boats floating silently between coves.
Final Thoughts
Two nights felt perfect. Phi Phi packs a lot into a small space, beach bars, hikes, fire shows, boat tours, all framed by ridiculous natural beauty. It’s touristy, yes, but it’s also one of those rare places where you can have chaos and calm in the same hour.
By day, you can find quiet corners where it’s just you, the sea, and the sound of waves. By night, you’re dodging fire ropes and cheering on strangers in boxing matches. It’s paradise with a pulse, small, messy, unforgettable.
As we boarded the next ferry, heading for Krabi, I couldn’t help but look back at the cliffs fading into the mist. Phi Phi might not be the most authentic Thailand, but it’s the one everyone dreams of, and for good reason.
