July 7 , 2026

The sky is dull and grey and does not look promising. So how should I spend the day? This is hardly beach weather, so perhaps I could rent a scooter and travel across the island.

Of the week that I had slated for the island, I planned on spending at least several days in White Sands, then finding some more alluring beachside locale to spend the rest of the week, either to the south of White Sands or on the other side of the island. For now, I have decided to stay an extra day at the resort, but the prices have risen substantially online, presumably due to the usual machinations of the hotel services. But then it could simply reflect increased demand. When I speak with the manager, he assures me that he can offer me the room for the same price I paid online — except when I do the conversion, that price turns out to be far higher than what I originally paid.

I am utterly exhausted and suffering from debilitating stomach cramps, although I am just not sure why. I do know that if I sit down somewhere and relax, I should feel a lot better. What I do know is that the hernia I developed at the end of last year has made me a lot more sensitive to heat and cold — and here the heat isn’t necessarily prohibitive, but the humidity is!

I decide to explore the town of White Sands on foot, beginning with a foray to the south of the Grand View resort. As the road rises and curves uphill, any pretense at privilege dissipates, the hotels now stolid buildings along the roadside, the less tended ones succumbing to feral tropical vegetation, abandoned cars and scooters decaying in the open patches of vegetation along the side of the road, vintage-era signs emblazoned across the facades of dilapidated buildings that would have been unappealing in their heyday. Here the women seated in front of the massage parlours don’t even bother calling to potential customers, there is so little point to the effort.

There are small roadside eateries that are a far cry from the sprawling lounges in the town proper that cater to obese older Caucasians. The overgrown escarpment rises sharply behind the development on the inner side of the road, and beyond the abandoned budget motels and hospitality establishments of one-time calibre, there is no trace of a a burg that in any way caters to locals. Where do the Thai that work in White Sands live? Are there are other towns on the island that cater only to locals? It seems that the inland of the island is nothing but jungle, and the small towns lining the coast catering exclusively to tourists, although I will see more when I actually travel along the island’s roads.

The low-lying clouds hang heavily over the hills at the centre of the island, their shape continually morphing and threatening to engulf the lower hillsides. Buses are parked silently alongside the quiet bus terminal, presumably springing to life in the precise moments some small number of locals and tourists want to return to the mainland and the world beyond. There is traffic on the perfectly-paved road, mostly scooters carrying local passengers, often two, three, and even four, although the farang evidently don’t master the art of carrying multiple passengers on these compact but practical two wheeled vehicles. I am surprised at the number of cannabis shops, which must be struggling, given that it is only available here as a prescribed medical substance. You certain never smell marijuana smoke in the country, and beyond the confines of the farang hotspots, evidence of its culture are quite rare, which may have less to do with prohibition than mindset.

An older man wearing a baseball cap waves to me from across the street — he turns out to be a German who is looking for some local waterfall. I really wouldn’t know, as I don’t see it on the map; there is a waterfall at the southern tip of the island, but too far to walk. He was assured by some woman that the waterfall is around the corner — personally, I am not in the mood for going off on a random search for some waterfall that may be much further than anticipated and also deal with climbing. I just want to sit down somewhere and enjoy a coffee — but this area is definitely not home to any kind of coffee establishment, other than a cute kiosk that is definitely not air-conditioned.

The man originally hails from Berlin, and after having lived an intense life of work and play, decided to decamp to the small village his wife originates from in Buriram province after his second heart attack, realizing that there was no way he could continue working — or afford to live in Germany with a marginal income. For him there was little question about the move, but having two children that hadn’t yet reached maturity made the choice a lot more complicated. While the decision of moving may have been fantastic for him, it was hardly the case for his children, who despite the best of intentions would grow up into a culture to which they didn’t really belong and would have little chance of really thriving in.

And yet his son didn’t just take a tremendous liking but thrived in the village setting, picking up Muay Thai boxing and cycling, exploring the back roads of the countryside along the Thai border. Of course, despite the apparent drabness of the locality, there are always small gems to be found if you probe deeply enough in the countryside. By coincidence, the German met an Austrian locally whose brother happened to desperately need help at his guesthouse in the Steiermark, and soon the German’s son was off to work in the Austrian hotel, cook Thai food for guests, and enroll in hospitality school, paving a future life in Austria.

The man’s narrative was truly heartwarming, but I now need to sit down somewhere, ideally to drink a strong coffee in an air-conditioned environment. That won’t be happening on this end of town, so that means a long trek back — I really want to do nothing more as of right now, and certainly not look for a waterfall! Trudging reluctantly past the scooters racing past me and the vehicular detritus, I arrive at the stoop of the German restaurant that now seems to be open.

In another lifetime I would have laughed scornfully at the idea of this place being here, but now, after a month of unfortunate gastronomic experiences in China, I very willingly take the bait, and the ebullient Austrian host is only too happy to serve me an enormous schnitzel with roast potatoes. It may not be ideal food, it may be nutritionally imbalanced, it may reflect a limited imagination, but at the moment it couldn’t be more suitable, not that the Thai food served on the isn’t excellent.

Back through the town, one step at a time, the late afternoon light far from complimentary as I survey the passing facades of the souvenir shops, the clothing stalls oriented to locals, the loud outdoor bars with the obese British denizens doing what they and their kind do best, the Thai restaurants, the pizzerias, the few boutique hotels, hotels aspiring to boutique status, the utterly forlorn dated concept establishments that seem to have given up hope, a few barber shops and nail salons, generic convenience stores, and of course, the obligatory massage parlours, the women calling to me and any passing farang with a pulse.

The KC resort at the south end of town is probably the most upscale in town, although it is too institutional and predictable in its layout to warrant a stay, irrespective of how low the cost of staying here would be. The stylish coffee shop next to the entrance is very appealing – but ฿90 for an espresso? Forget it, I’ll just trudge back to either one of the two places that seem to be mainstays in town, or at least when the other places have closed. In the meantime, I just need to sit and rest in the lobby, although it would really help if it was air -conditioned. I am amazed at how debilitated I feel being outside in the not particularly intense heat.

A Dutch man frantically tells me to never consider eating in the 15 Palms hotel restaurant, as he got serious food poisoning there. Terrible, but a symptom of eating in any tourist establishment, which would be difficult to avoid here. My immediate destination is the Marin coffee shop, one of the only coffee shops open, and where the only other customer is a burly but sweet Russian woman who finds herself in somewhat of an existential conundrum, for very obvious reasons. I try to steer clear of politics, but in recent years, the war with Ukraine has hit the average Russian hard, in terms of the severe reduction of the economy, the threat of conscription for any young people if they don’t adhere to the strictest academic accomplishments, and so on.

Years ago she bought an apartment in Pattaya, and has now come to Thailand to deal with maintenance issues, although given her current economic circumstances, the apartment is more of a burden. She was trained to work as a lawyer, but hated it, then became a volleyball coach. Her children have been relatively successful, her son with top marks and five years and into an education in IT and her younger daughter a professional and accomplished volleyball player. But just for her son alone, one slip on an exam and he risks being sent to war, although the Russian government won’t consider sacrificing someone in whose education they have invested so much by sending them to the frontline of war.

My Italian traveler friend that I met in ShangriLa in Yunnan sent me a video on WhatsApp of a black-clad dancer performing ecstatic dance movements on a mat top marks — but the man has no legs. Watching it is both inspiring and heartbreaking, the beauty of the movement riveting, the sight of the man’s limitation overwhelming, but equally the recognition of his ability to transcend his limitations in such a powerful manner.

I have tentatively decided to stay at the Grand View resort for the last three days of my Koh Chang visit. I am suffering inexplicably from severe exhaustion, which doesn’t seem to have any specific cause, and which is somewhat disturbing. In any case, I want to minimize the amount of effort I make in trucking around the island. What I have not managed to see is any correspondingly affordable but attractive lodging alternatives further south on the island. White Sands’ beaches are by far the best from what I have read, and from reviewing hotel profiles on the Agoda and Booking websites, I see no evidence of beaches that are even remotely comparable to what I have before me where I am now — not that the weather is particularly favorable for spending time on the beach to begin with.

The price for my sea view room may be relatively high, but the prices for less impressive properties, with negligible beach — and no breakfast! — to the south are not much less. So here I stay, and I can do all the traveling I want thanks to the inexpensive rental of scooters. The bus station is around the corner, as well as every manner of eatery, which is a huge plus — being in some isolated resort could be romantic for a short period, but that romance quickly evaporates when you find that there are no services nearby.