Take Me To… is an ongoing series of travel recommendations provided by the experts – Peace Corps Thailand volunteers who have been there! If you’ve traveled to or live somewhere interesting in Thailand, submit your recommendations to us at pctm.stickyrice@gmail.com.
Cloé Fortier-King, 134 YinD
Thailand is renowned for its numerous picturesque islands, boasting jewel-toned seas hugged by golden beaches, where one can find an abundance of whole coconuts, smoothies and cocktails of every variety, as well as insanely fresh seafood dishes. These islands, notably Koh Phi Phi, Koh Samui, Koh Phangan, Koh Lanta, and Koh Tao often top the list of destinations for foreigners to check off during their travels to The Land of Smiles. But if my time in the Peace Corps has taught me anything, it’s that the most well-known and highly recommended places often pale in comparison to those off the beaten path.
So, when I was presented with the opportunity to visit Koh Chang, a farther-away and lesser-known Thai island, I jumped at the chance. Koh Chang is off the coast of Trat, a province bordering Cambodia, and the farthest east I’ve gone in Thailand thus far. In an attempt to honor my volunteer budget, I opted to take exclusively ground transportation. I found myself on a 4-hour van from Pai to Chiang Mai, a 10-hour overnight bus from Chiang Mai to Bangkok, a 6-hour van to Trat, a 30-minute songtaew to the pier, and, finally, a 30-minute ferry to Koh Chang. Clearly, there’s not much I won’t do for a beach trip.
Through the entirety of this hefty travel day, I nourished my spirits with thoughts of tanning on the beach, eating wonderful meals, and making a few new friends of fellow travelers. When I arrived though, I found that Koh Chang had entirely different plans in store for me.
The moment I stepped foot off the ferry, I was whisked away into my own private plot of castaway. The roads on the island arced and climbed in steep curves that tossed me around in the back of a songtaew going down the road at a breakneck speed. The pouring rain and deep puddles lining the mountainous roads didn’t help. The hostel I had booked on (the aptly named) Lonely Beach had nearly 100 beds but ended up with a population of one: me. The plethora of restaurants I had pinned beforehand on my Google Maps turned out to be mostly shuttered or simply gone. And the empty beaches, although stunning, were turned to mud and churned by the moody gray seas.
I spent the next 4 days getting completely soaked every time I stepped outside, monitoring the weather for a glimpse of sun that never came, and wandering the roads and beaches for the occasional open restaurant and fellow castaways. It was distinctly eerie and decisively lonely, but I wouldn’t change a single thing.
The trip gave me an intimate peek into an off-season paradise still reeling from the blow of COVID-19. The very few residents and shopkeepers I ran into told me stories about the Island’s heyday of tourism and explained that it hadn’t bounced back in the same way Thailand’s more popular islands had after travelers returned to the country post pandemic closures and restrictions. I saw the effects of climate change in the increasing rainy season rainfall, and witnessed the salty sea air and jungle reclaiming the crumbling resorts and closed businesses that stood as ghosts of Koh Chang’s past.
I suspect Koh Chang presents a vastly different experience during the busy summer season, and I can only hope that the Island begins to recover in the following years. But something tells me it will maintain its aura of haunted-ness and air of melancholy that, in my opinion, make this island stand out.
I hope I get the chance to return.
Sticky Rice 
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