Ao Nang Beach Thailand Stories: A Quick Stop In Ao Nang Beach   Recently updated!

Kuala Lumpur Airport: Chaos, Confusion, and Self-Check-In Failure

Is Kuala Lumpur Airport worse than Paris Charles de Gaulle? Hard to say. But if there were an award for most frustrating airport experience, KL would definitely be a contender.

It was finally time to leave Kuala Lumpur, so we caught a Grab to the airport—straight into the depths of self-check-in hell.

Airports around the world have embraced the magical concept of self-service—which is just corporate speak for do our job for free and suffer. The idea is simple:

1. Check in online.
2. Print your own boarding pass.
3. Print your own luggage tags at the self-service kiosk.
4. Drop your bags at the self-service counter.
5. Pray it all works.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

One of our bags was accepted into the system but never actually made it down the chute. The computer, however, was convinced we had successfully checked in a 20kg suitcase. Do you think we could make the staff understand this? Absolutely not.

First, we were told to reprint our luggage tags and try again. Then, we were directed to another line—because standing in more lines is obviously the solution. Thirty frustrating minutes later, with our flight time creeping closer, we finally found someone who grasped the concept of “our bag is missing” and checked it in manually.

Then came the passport control and security screenings, which—as always—felt designed to test both patience and bladder control. But at last, we reached our gate and collapsed onto the plane.

So, is KL Airport worse than Paris CDG? No, because nothing can top the inefficiency and rudeness of France’s main airport. But KL is definitely gunning for second place.

Arrival in Ao Nang: Welcome to Tourist Hell

After an uneventful flight, we landed in Krabi. Our destination? Ao Nang Beach, about 40 minutes away. We were only staying one night before catching a ferry to Koh Yao Noi the next morning.

We had been to Ao Nang a decade ago and hadn’t liked it much. But we had also stayed in a mediocre hotel, and where you stay can shape your impression of a place. This time, we had booked a hotel right on the beach, hoping for a different experience.

We arrived in what can only be described as a nightmare theme park where the theme is “Over-Tourism.”

The streets were gridlocked with cars and motorbikes, the sidewalks overflowing with people, and every shop along the main road sold the same tacky tourist junk—elephant pants, fake Ray-Bans, and wooden frogs that make that weird croaking noise when you rub a stick across them. It was awful.

Now, we usually avoid heavily touristed places like the plague (which, ironically, is probably easier to escape). But we had no choice—our ferry left early the next morning, and we had to stay overnight. C’est la vie.

A Tiny Oasis in the Madness

Our hotel, however, was a glorious little pocket of peace in the middle of the chaos. It had a prime beachfront location, a pleasant room, and, best of all, a stunning restaurant right on the sand.

The moment we saw the restaurant, we made a very important decision: we were not leaving the hotel until it was time to board the ferry.

And so, we settled into a beachfront table, ordered cocktails, and watched the sunset. It was absolute bliss. We followed this with a delicious dinner, realizing that this hotel was the only thing standing between us and a full-scale tourist-induced meltdown.

The next morning, after a leisurely beachfront breakfast, we were picked up and taken to the ferry pier. Next stop: Koh Yao Noi.

Ferry Mayhem: Welcome to Southeast Asia

The ferry pier was exactly what you’d expect from an Asian transport hub: chaotic, disorganized, and yet—somehow—functional.

Ferries to multiple destinations left from this pier, meaning it was packed to the brim with confused travelers. Watching first-time visitors navigate this chaos was pure entertainment. There was a lot of nervous darting around, frantic questioning of staff, and blank stares when they were inevitably told, “Just wait.”

Boarding was an adventure in itself. First, we had to walk across the beach (sand + luggage = instant regret). Then, we handed our backpacks to ferry staff, climbed a wobbly ladder, and scrambled onto a very wobbly boat.

I watched as fellow passengers dragged enormous suitcases through the sand, struggling spectacularly. Seriously, who brings a full-size, hard-shell suitcase to a remote island? This was the moment we thanked ourselves for traveling light.

And then, at last, we were off—cruising across the water to Koh Yao Noi, a place we had loved years ago.

Would it still be as peaceful and charming as we remembered? Join us in Koh Yao Noi to find out!