Krabi Travel Guide: Island Hopping, Thai Food & Night Markets

There are two kinds of people who go on holiday. The first lot wake up early, put on their sunglasses, take 47 photographs of the sunrise and tick off every tourist attraction before lunch. The second lot want to know what is there for breakfast. I belong firmly to the second category. Not that I don’t appreciate beautiful landscapes. I do. At my age, I have learnt to appreciate almost everything that doesn’t involve climbing too many stairs. But give me a beautiful beach, a plate of something interesting and a little time to sit around and enjoy myself, and I am a happy man.

Krabi, in southern Thailand, turned out to be just the place for this philosophy of life.

On the second day of our Thailand trip with Adventure Safari Tours & Travels, we had a fairly ambitious plan. Island hopping in the morning, Thai curries in the afternoon, and a night market in the evening. Looking back, it was a plan designed by somebody who clearly underestimated how much food one could encounter in a single day. But then, when has that ever stopped a Bengali?

Breakfast First. The Islands Can Wait.

Our day began at Ananta Burin Resort, where we were staying. I have stayed in enough hotels to know that an expensive breakfast buffet doesn’t necessarily guarantee a happy morning. Sometimes, all you need is decent food, a comfortable place to sit and a cup of tea that doesn’t taste as if somebody has been particularly unkind to the tea leaves. Ananta Burin turned out to be a pleasant surprise. The buffet was reasonably extensive, especially for a hotel in its price range, and the open-air dining area made for a relaxed start to the day.

But what caught my attention was the dim sum counter. Three varieties of steamed dim sum later, I was feeling quite pleased with myself. Now, dim sum isn’t exactly the first thing that comes to mind when one thinks of breakfast in Thailand. Its roots lie in southern Chinese food culture, particularly the Cantonese tradition of yum cha — drinking tea while enjoying a selection of small bites. Over the years, the tradition travelled, adapted and found its way into hotel restaurants across Asia. And why not? Small, steamed parcels of food are a perfectly respectable way to begin a day. We also had Thai milk tea, with its distinctive roasted aroma and creamy sweetness, followed by chilled chocolate milk.

The chocolate milk deserves a special mention. There is something wonderfully democratic about chocolate milk. It doesn’t matter whether you are eight or forty-eight; a cold glass of the stuff on a warm morning can make you feel that life isn’t such a bad arrangement after all.

Soon, it was time to leave. Our pickup was scheduled between 8:30 and 9 AM, and the sea was waiting. I was reasonably well fed. The important thing was to remain that way.

Four Islands and a Boat Ride Later

If you come to Krabi, chances are somebody will tell you to take the Four Island Tour. And they won’t be wrong.

We boarded a traditional Thai long-tail boat and headed out towards the Andaman Sea. The landscape was spectacular, with enormous limestone cliffs rising out of the water. The sea changed colour depending on the light, and the islands looked as if somebody had arranged them specifically for a travel brochure. I am usually suspicious of places that look too good in photographs. One tends to assume that a little Photoshop has been involved. Krabi, however, is annoyingly beautiful even without it.

Our tour included Phra Nang Cave Beach, Koh Tup, Chicken Island and Koh Poda. I won’t bore you with a detailed geographical account of every island. There are enough travel websites doing that already, and I suspect most people would rather hear about what we ate.

Still, a couple of things caught my attention.

At Phra Nang Cave Beach, there is a shrine associated with local beliefs surrounding a princess spirit and fertility. Visitors leave offerings, including carved wooden phallic symbols. It is unusual, certainly, but also a reminder that places we visit for their beauty may hold a very different meaning for the people who live around them.

At Koh Tup, the sea had created a natural sandbar, known as Talay Waek, allowing visitors to walk between islands when the tide is right. It is one of those things that makes you stop and stare for a while.

Chicken Island, meanwhile, is named after a rock formation that resembles a chicken’s head. Once you see it, you understand the logic immediately. Sometimes, naming a place doesn’t require a committee meeting.

The final stop was Koh Poda, with its dramatic limestone formation rising out of the sea. We settled down for a packed lunch of chicken noodle salad, steamed rice and dry chilli chicken. It wasn’t a grand culinary affair, but food has a funny way of tasting better when you eat it beside the sea. There is also something to be said for eating a simple meal without checking your phone every three minutes. The sea, the breeze and the occasional passing boat provide quite enough entertainment.

One thing worth remembering, though: these islands are fragile environments. Coral reefs and marine life need protection, and the least we can do as visitors is follow local rules, avoid leaving rubbish behind and not treat every beautiful place as our personal picnic spot. By mid-afternoon, we were back on the mainland. And, as you might have guessed, I was ready to eat again.

Three Curries and a Little Lesson in Thai Food

We headed to Thai Me Up / Khai Mue, where the main dishes we tried were around 300 Thai baht. Thai food is interesting because it refuses to behave like one single cuisine. The flavours change from region to region, shaped by geography, local ingredients, migration and centuries of cultural exchange. For a Bengali, this isn’t entirely unfamiliar territory. We may argue endlessly about which part of Bengal makes the best fish curry, whether a particular preparation needs mustard oil or whether somebody has committed a culinary crime by adding sugar to a dish. But we understand regional food loyalties. Thailand has its own version of this diversity. Our afternoon meal featured three dishes: Isan-style pork larb, Panang curry and Massaman curry.

Larb: A Salad That Doesn’t Believe in Being Subtle

Larb, also spelt laab or lap, is associated with northeastern Thailand’s Isan cuisine and neighbouring Laos. Calling it a salad is technically correct, but it doesn’t quite prepare you for the experience. This is not a bowl of lettuce designed to make you feel better about skipping the gym. Larb is usually made with minced meat, fresh herbs, lime juice, chilli and toasted ground rice powder. That last ingredient is important. The roasted rice adds an earthy, nutty flavour and a little texture that gives the dish its personality.

The combination of heat, acidity, herbs and savoury meat makes it a lively dish. Every mouthful seems to have something to say. What I particularly like about dishes like this is how they challenge our assumptions about food. We often imagine a salad as something light and forgettable. Larb proves that a dish doesn’t need to be complicated to be full of character. Of course, whether you enjoy the chilli is another matter. At a certain age, one begins to appreciate spicy food while also keeping an eye on what the stomach might have to say about it later. Experience teaches you many things. Some of them are culinary.

Panang Curry: Comfort in a Bowl

Panang curry was a completely different experience. Rich, creamy and fragrant, it is generally made with a curry paste containing ingredients such as dried chillies, lemongrass, galangal and other aromatics. Coconut milk gives it its characteristic richness, while finely sliced makrut lime leaves add a beautiful citrus fragrance. Compared with some other Thai curries, Panang is usually thicker and relatively mild, with a slightly sweet finish. It is the sort of curry that makes you reach for another spoonful even when you have already decided that you have eaten enough.

There is a lesson here for anybody who thinks a good curry must necessarily be fiery. Heat is only one part of the story. The fragrance of the spices, the richness of the sauce and the balance of flavours matter just as much. And yes, steamed rice is a very sensible companion. I wasn’t going to leave a bowl of curry sitting there simply because I had promised myself I would eat less. Some promises are best postponed.

Massaman Curry: A Little History in Every Spoonful

Massaman was perhaps the most interesting dish of the three. 

Unlike curries that rely mainly on chilli, Massaman builds its character around warm spices such as cardamom, cinnamon, cloves and star anise. Depending on the recipe, you may also find coconut milk, meat, potatoes, peanuts and tamarind. Its story is tied to Thailand’s historic connections with Muslim communities and the trading networks that linked Southeast Asia with the wider Indian Ocean world. The precise origins remain debated, but the dish reflects the movement of people, spices and cooking traditions across regions.

Think about it for a moment. A curry on your table today may carry traces of journeys made by merchants and travellers centuries ago. Food has a remarkable memory. We tend to think of history as kings, battles, treaties and dates that we were forced to memorise in school. But sometimes history is sitting quietly in a bowl of curry, waiting for somebody to ask where the spices came from.

The Massaman we tried in Krabi was lighter and more delicate than some of the thicker versions one encounters elsewhere. The fragrance of the spices was more prominent than the heat. And that is another pleasure of travelling: a dish you think you know can surprise you when you try it somewhere new. By the time we finished lunch, I was beginning to feel that the day had been rather generous to my appetite. Unfortunately, the night market was still waiting.

Ao Nang Landmark Night Market: My Kind of Evening

There are few things I enjoy more than a good food market. You don’t have to commit to one restaurant, study an elaborate menu or pretend that you understand the chef’s artistic interpretation of a potato. You simply walk around, look at what is cooking, follow your nose and eat whatever catches your attention. The Ao Nang Landmark Night Market was exactly the sort of place I enjoy.

As evening settled over Krabi, the market came alive with food stalls, drinks, clothing and a steady stream of hungry visitors. There was a relaxed holiday atmosphere, and the variety of food made it difficult to decide where to begin. Prices for many of the snacks we sampled were around 60 to 150 baht, which made it possible to try several things without committing to a full meal at every stall. Our first stop was a fresh coconut, cracked open in front of us. In the heat of Thailand, chilled coconut water is a blessing. It doesn’t need a fancy description or a celebrity endorsement. You drink it, feel refreshed and move on.

Then came takoyaki, the Japanese street snack traditionally filled with octopus. The versions we tried included shrimp, sausage and crab stick, with savoury sauce generously spread over the top. Takoyaki originated in Japan, particularly in Osaka, but has travelled across Asia and adapted to local tastes. At a market like this, the fillings can vary considerably from the traditional recipe.

Next came small pancakes inspired by Vietnamese bánh khọt, a dish traditionally made using rice-based batter and coconut milk. Our version was served with sweet mango and creamy coconut milk. The combination immediately reminded me of the pleasure of discovering familiar textures in unfamiliar places.

As a Bengali, I am naturally inclined to compare anything made with rice batter to some form of pitha. We have spent generations turning rice into an extraordinary range of snacks, so perhaps it is inevitable that we look for a distant cousin whenever we encounter something similar. Of course, resemblance doesn’t necessarily mean the dishes share a common origin. Sometimes, different food cultures simply arrive at similar ideas using ingredients available to them. Still, the comparison is half the fun.

We also tried fresh Vietnamese-style spring rolls, wrapped in delicate rice paper and filled with vegetables and crab stick. Unlike the deep-fried rolls many of us know from restaurant menus, these were fresh and light. Then there was okonomiyaki, Japan’s savoury pancake, cooked on a hot griddle with shredded cabbage and assorted fillings.

Watching street food being prepared is often as enjoyable as eating it. There is something reassuring about seeing a vendor work the griddle, turn the food at just the right moment and serve it hot to a waiting customer. Our final discovery was a fusion preparation of spicy Mama instant noodles topped with a folded omelette and crab stick.

Mama noodles are familiar across Thailand and much of Southeast Asia. Like instant noodles everywhere, they have escaped their original purpose and become a canvas for improvisation. Add eggs, vegetables, seafood, meat or chilli, and a cheap packet of noodles can turn into a satisfying meal.

Our version was playful, filling and entirely appropriate for a lively night market. What impressed me about the stalls we visited was the attention to cleanliness and presentation. The counters looked well maintained, and the food was neatly prepared and served. Standards can vary between vendors, of course, but the care we saw was encouraging. And there was something else I enjoyed about the market.

It wasn’t trying too hard to be anything other than what it was: a place where people came to eat, wander around, have a good time and spend a few hours enjoying themselves. In an increasingly complicated world, there is something rather lovely about that.

A Few Things Worth Remembering

If you are planning a day like ours, here are a few practical tips.

• Start early: Island tours usually depart in the morning and return in the afternoon. Check the operator’s timings, particularly if you want to see the sandbar at Koh Tup.
• Protect your gadgets: A dry bag is useful on boat trips. Carry suitable sunscreen and comfortable footwear, and follow local guidance around marine conservation.
• Save some energy for the evening: After hours in the sun, a short rest before visiting the night market is a sensible idea. Check current opening hours locally.
• Try something unfamiliar: Don’t limit yourself to dishes you already recognise. Ask vendors about ingredients and preparation. Sometimes, a simple conversation makes a meal more memorable.
• Respect the place: Keep the islands clean, avoid disturbing marine life and follow local rules. We are visitors, after all.

The Last Bite

By the end of the day, we had travelled between islands, eaten three very different curries and wandered through a night market where Japanese, Vietnamese and Thai food seemed perfectly happy to share the same neighbourhood. It was a lot to take in, but that is what I enjoy about food travel.

A bowl of Massaman can take you back to the history of maritime trade. A plate of larb can introduce you to the distinct food culture of northeastern Thailand. A street vendor preparing takoyaki can remind you how recipes travel across borders and become something new along the way. You begin by looking at a destination on a map, but the real discoveries often happen when you sit down to eat.

And perhaps that is why food remains such a wonderful way to understand a place. You don’t need to know the language fluently or understand every custom. Sometimes, all you need is curiosity, a willingness to try something different and the ability to appreciate a good meal. Krabi gave us beautiful islands, turquoise water and dramatic limestone cliffs. But it also gave us stories, flavours and a few unexpected discoveries.

As for the food, I suspect I did my bit for the local economy. I would like to think of it as responsible tourism. After all, somebody has to support the local food vendors. And if that means one more coconut, one more pancake, or one last plate of noodles, I am prepared to make that sacrifice. Purely in the interest of travel, of course.

Bon appetit!!!

indrajit.lahiri@ymail.com