Krabi Sea Port
Phi Phi was a celebration—loud, vibrant, full of energy. But as we stepped onto Krabi’s sea port, we were met with an entirely different world. A calmness lingered in the air, a rhythm that moved slower, an energy that invited relaxation. The city was not in a hurry. It had nothing to prove. Krabi was peace itself.
Our hotel sat along the Krabi River, just a short 15-minute ride from the port. The moment we arrived, I knew this place was different. The river, stretching far into the horizon, reflected the golden hues of the setting sun. A quiet walkway ran along its edge, inviting people for slow strolls, deep conversations, or simply a moment to breathe. As we checked in, sipping fresh juice in the hotel lobby, I realized that some places don’t just offer rest; they insist on it.
We took our first walk along the river, where the breeze carried the scent of the mangrove forest. For lunch, we found a riverside restaurant, a simple yet beautiful place with a view that could make you forget time. The food was exceptional, the kind that nourishes not just the body but the soul. Everything about this place whispered tranquility.
Krabi River Side
After lunch, we hired a Grab car and set off to explore Krabi City. There was no rush, no chaos, just people living, enjoying, existing. Every street corner held a moment of simple joy—locals chatting outside their homes, shop owners carefully arranging their displays, street vendors patiently grilling skewers. Unlike the restless energy of Phuket, Krabi had a sense of ease, an unshakable contentment. It was a city that wasn’t chasing time but embracing it.
As I do in every trip, I found a spot to sit with myself, to talk to myself, to reflect. Krabi River became that place. For four hours, I sat there, watching life unfold slowly. With my AirPods on, I played one of my favorite albums—Tahsan Khan’s “Krittodaser Nirban”—on repeat. The blend of music, river, fresh air, the silhouette of fishermen at work, and the distant mangrove jungle made the moment timeless. Some evenings etch themselves into your soul forever. This was one of them.
The Community Bar (Ha ha ha!)
As I watched the river flow effortlessly, I thought about the complexity of human relationships. Just like a river, emotions take unexpected turns. Some moments are calm, predictable, and serene. Others are chaotic, rushing forward with force. Sometimes, relationships overflow, flooding everything in their path, and at other times, they run dry, leaving behind cracks of silence. Yet, through all the shifts and bends, the river keeps moving—just like we do, adapting, adjusting, learning.
As night fell, we walked through the city, stumbling upon an intimate, locally-owned bar—I called it a community bar. It felt like we had been there before. The warmth of the owner, the strangers who felt like old friends, and the laughter that flowed freely made it feel like home. We met travelers from Germany, Argentina, France, Italy, and Thailand. The connection was effortless, as if the universe had aligned this moment for us. We spent two hours there—talking, laughing, exchanging stories, and simply being.
Krabi
Later, we walked through Krabi’s quiet streets, stopping by a handicraft shop with beautiful collections. A foot massage followed, and then, almost instinctively, we found ourselves back at the community bar, as if pulled by an invisible thread. Another hour slipped away in song, dance, and shared joy. Sometimes, the best moments are the ones we don’t plan.
Mueang Beach, Krabi
The next morning was soft, golden, slow—exactly what a morning should be. Breakfast was simple yet perfect: pancakes, honey, banana, and coffee. The river, still wrapped in the hush of dawn, mirrored the sky in shades of pastel blue. The air was cool, the streets almost empty, and for a brief moment, time felt like it had stopped just for us.
We rented a scooter and rode through Krabi’s coastal roads. There’s a kind of freedom that only a scooter ride offers—the wind in your face, the endless road ahead, the world unfolding one turn at a time. Shamim, handled the bike like a pro, maneuvering effortlessly through the winding paths that led to hidden beaches. The sun warmed our backs as we rode, stopping whenever something caught our eye. Sometimes, the journey itself is the destination.
Top of the Tiger Cave Temple
Our final adventure in Krabi was climbing Tiger Cave Temple. 1,237 steps. It took one hour to climb and 35 minutes to descend, but reaching the top was worth every aching muscle. From above, the world stretched endlessly—mountains, rivers, forests, the vast sky melting into the horizon. We shared conversations with fellow climbers, exchanged encouragements, and encountered the footprint of Buddha, a symbol of presence and enlightenment.
Travel doesn’t just take us to new places—it reshapes our perceptions, rewires our thinking, and reminds us to celebrate life. Every city leaves a different imprint on the soul, a different lesson, a different kind of wonder. Krabi reminded me of the beauty of slowness, the necessity of reflection, and the simple joy of being present.
River Side Restaurant
Way to our hotel
As the sun dipped, we made our way back to the hotel for a final meal at the same riverside restaurant. The food, once again, was nothing short of incredible—a perfect farewell to a city that had given us so much peace.
With a sense of calm lingering in our hearts, we checked out of the hotel, returned the scooter, and headed toward Krabi Airport. The two-hour flight to Chiang Mai gave me time to reflect. The transition from Krabi’s stillness to the cool, quiet air of Chiang Mai felt symbolic—a reminder that every journey carries different rhythms, and different lessons.
As the plane descended, I noticed the city lights twinkling below, but what struck me most was how life always offers a new chapter just as one closes.
