Driving in Thailand

We write a lot about our travels (travails?) on the boat but in the past couple of months in Thailand we have really only pottered about in the relatively protected waters of PhangNga Bay or down the coast into Malaysia to renew our visas. Much of our daily life and travel is in fact on land and our preferred mode of land transport is a rented motorcycle. The rental transaction enjoys some sort of government oversight as the one page contract is a fairly standard document wherever you get the bike and it is mandatory to produce a valid driver’s license at this point. Fortunately for those who have no motorcycle license and no known expertise on such machines, a confusing looking foreign car license appears to suffice (or in my case a bad photocopy as my license is at the bottom of Ao Chalong Harbour). This obliging approach is a good early indicator of the pragmatism that is a feature of road traffic here.


The arterial traffic routes are dual carriageway with each carriageway accommodating two demarcated traffic lanes (carrying approximately three lanes of actual traffic) plus a motorcycle lane - which in addition to motorcycles accommodates also parked cars, stopped cars, moving cars, unwary pedestrians, wary dogs, and motorcycles that are travelling in the opposite direction.

This disconcerting phenomenon of motorcycles travelling against the flow of traffic is because in order to get to a destination on the other side of the road it is necessary to overshoot the destination until you get to a designated U-turn point through the centre median and then double back. The official U-turn points through the centre island are at intervals of about 3 – 5 km and this detour is understandably inconvenient and time consuming and therefore widely disregarded in favour of simply crossing over into the oncoming carriageway at a U-turn point before reaching the destination and then driving against the oncoming traffic directly to the destination by the shortest path.

The first time we tried this and were confronted by a three / four lane phalanx of advancing traffic at a combined approach (collision?) speed of 140 kph, there resulted a convulsion of several muscle groups – one of which caused the throttle twist grip to be advanced inadvertently and another that causes that unstable feeling in the bowels. Muscle functioning returned to normal before any major consequences but only after some local motorcyclists learned a couple of new moves.

One of the other interesting local customs is to sometimes disregard red traffic lights. It must be said however that this only occurs when there is little crossing traffic and not much evident danger. It took us a few days of enduring noisy exhortations from bikes stuck behind us to overcome our sensible reluctance to invite attention from the law. We are particularly sensitive to the presence of the police as the somewhat imperfect status of my drivers license will at best withstand only the most elastic interpretation and invite a modest spot fine. Unhappily a new law on 1 July requires passengers to wear helmets and this has motivated a sustained programme of police roadblocks to promote compliance. We are ever hopeful that the authorities will tire of the game.

Motorcycles entering the main traffic stream from a side street simply enter without the inconvenience of stopping, or even of pausing or looking; albeit usually slowly enough to allow the mainstream of traffic sufficient time to take avoiding action. Cars and trucks entering the main stream often wait for a gap in the traffic. When they do not, it does behoove motorcyclists to hold their line and slam on brakes. Fortunately the brakes are rarely good enough to induce wheel lock and uncontrollable skids, but ones instinct and anticipation necessarily develops to a high level.

This all works surprisingly well and all drivers / riders with equanimity simply slow down or swerve or stop in order to promote traffic flow. The goodwill and pragmatism displayed by everyone is a far cry from the common driving practice back home of extending ones ego with the aid of a fuel injected, one ton steel cocoon powered by testosterone and armed with a bouquet of gesticulations and invective.

Petite Thai girls in dresses sit side saddle on the pillion seat – with feet delicately pointed upwards to retain their shoes on their feet. There is evidence of the odd lapse in concentration with single shoes and slip-slops found lying in the motorcycle lane. The Thais appear born to these machines and display the nonchalance of long familiarity. It is a common sight to see three girls on a single bike with all three engaged in animated conversation, texting and/or talking on their mobile phones and admiring one another’s purchases of clothing and jewelry; the passengers with painted toenails in the air and the driver easily controlling the bike.

Another common sight is entire families on a single scooter, including babes in arms and often with the driver carrying the baby – and then on top of this, the days shopping or laundry or whatever. And ‘whatever’ encompasses a remarkable range of building materials, furniture and appliances, pets. In our case we tried to emulate the locals with Irene on the back wearing a rucksack bulging with newly purchased provisions and equipment, complete with two folding stools that had legs protruding above her head like space antennae; another bag of stuff between us on the seat and a further bag between my feet. Did I use my feet to keep the bag on the scooter or to keep the bike on its wheels? …. I am getting so good at multi-tasking!

Motorcycling along city roads proves exciting on a different level. Multitasking is taken to new heights what with indicators, throttle, brakes, etc. plus keeping the bike on two wheels and remembering to put out a useful foot to steady the bike when stationary (and keeping slip-slop on said foot). Taking off from rest while turning sharp right at intersections (and remembering about the foot still on the ground); all while having a civilized discussion with my navigator about the relative merits of reversing a bike that cannot easily go in reverse compared with the simple expedient of making a u-turn and driving against the flow of traffic, in order to reach the destination we just passed. Thai script is entirely different from our Roman alphabet and most street names and other landmarks therefore remain tauntingly elusive. (In tourist Phuket, major street signs helpfully have English subtitles)

The navigator in question (aka crew/shark-bait) in the meantime is juggling a road map (in the breeze, and often the rain); wearing a huge backpack with purchases; balancing a couple of bags / packets of stuff on the seat between us; operating a camera (all photos in this blog taken by the navigator at speed; forgive some lack of focus….); remembering to point her feet upwards so as not to lose her slip-slops; providing commentary on passing sights, smells, sounds and my driving; remembering to not sway the bike unduly; making pleasant interactions with other road-users in passing; and directing us unerringly to the desired destination. Every time. Remarkable.

On the more rural, narrow roads or where there are road-works, one encounters gravel (treacherous mud!!) and potholes filled with water (sinister bike traps!!). Bikes don’t naturally stay up well in these conditions and we have had the odd heart stopping moment that requires a steadying foot on the ground (which is thereafter covered in mud and brands you for the day). However we have not (yet) had to display the true badge of the travelling tourist, which is a seeping bandage around an arm and a leg and a decidedly stiff and painful way of moving, and which can only be earned the hard way that draws expressions ranging from ‘ha ha - that must have hurt’ to ‘there but for the grace ..’

Initially, sight of the numerous dogs on the road caused some anxiety and persistent images of an unpleasant tangle of bike parts, body parts and extract of dog. However, the trick is, from a distance, to distinguish between young dogs and scarred old veterans. The gimpy old warriors are no problem – they have in their younger days obviously had some altercation with traffic and discovered its hazards; and the fact that they are old is the clincher. You do not become an old dog by going walk-about in traffic. So we confidently careened past the old fleabags at speed and fortunately did not see many youngsters – it’s obviously a hard school.

We are loving our travels in Thailand. Their pragmatic approach strikes a chord with the moderately robust treatment of most matters that we know from South Africa and being somewhat scarred old veterans already, we will hopefully become locally street smart with only a gentle learning curve.