Jungle Dreams, Chicken Bats and the Hardest Night of Our Lives - Khao Sok National Park Travel Blog

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After the chaos of Koh Samui, we thought we were heading into the jungle for some peace and quiet. Floating bungalows. Towering cliffs. A bit of nature and a lot of calm.

Instead, we got monkeys stealing pancakes, chicken-sized bats blotting out the sky, and the most emotionally gut-wrenching night of our entire trip. Welcome to Khao Sok. It was stunning, surreal and completely unforgettable.

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From Beaches to Backroads

We booked our journey from Koh Samui to Khao Sok through a tiny tour stand in Fisherman’s Village. For 880 baht per person, we were promised a taxi, a ferry, and a jungle minivan. It was cheap. Suspiciously cheap.

Things started off well. The transfer to the ferry was smooth and the crossing itself was relaxing, almost scenic. We let our guard down.

That was a mistake.

As soon as we hit the mainland, it turned into four hours of tropical traffic and zero airflow. We were crammed into a van like warm sardines. No legroom. No AC. Just heat and slow-moving chaos. At one point, we drove behind a van with a monkey casually riding on the roof. It was the highlight of the journey.

Eventually, we arrived at our accommodation for the next two nights. The Rock and Treehouse Resort. The name didn’t scream luxury, and to be fair, our expectations were low. But what we found surprised us.

Welcome to the Jungle

The resort was tucked deep into the jungle, framed by towering limestone cliffs and criss-crossed by vines. Our room was simple but clean, with a balcony that jutted out into the trees. Within minutes, we spotted monkeys and squirrels through the glass doors. It felt like a David Attenborough documentary just with louder frogs.

Check-in was easy, though we had to pay in cash to avoid the card surcharge. We settled in quickly, grabbed a drink from the café, and listened to the jungle sounds growing louder as night crept in. It felt like we’d finally stopped moving.

That feeling didn’t last long.

Khao Sok Village Vibes

That evening, we took a walk down the gravel track and found ourselves in the middle of Khao Sok village. It’s a small place, full of chilled cafés, jungle hostels and that classic Southeast Asia backpacker energy.

We found a place called Black Stone Café and instantly loved it. Floor cushions. Flickering candles. No walls. It felt like a beach bar but in the middle of the rainforest. The sweet and sour chicken with rice was simple and delicious, the spring rolls crispy and fresh, and the price was as light as the vibe. After days of bouncing between destinations, this was the pause we needed.

We walked back happy, expecting a quiet night. But if you've ever tried to sleep in the jungle, you’ll know that nature has other ideas.

Frogs, Drips and Monkey Mayhem

That night, the jungle turned up the volume. Frogs croaked in 12-part harmony. Insects screeched. And our bathroom pipe began dripping loudly enough to wake the dead. At 2am, Steve got up to investigate, swearing like someone trapped inside a rainforest version of Water Torture Weekly.

We didn’t sleep much.

At breakfast, we were bleary-eyed and half-human. But the monkeys were wide awake. They launched from trees, ducked under tables and nicked food when the staff weren’t looking. It was like being mugged by a band of furry toddlers. Cute but terrifying.

Then, something unexpected happened. As we sat by the resort’s pool, the monkeys took over. Literally. They swam, splashed, dove, climbed out and did it again. We watched in awe. It was the best pool party we’ve ever seen — and a strong reason to stay dry.

But the main event was still to come.

Into the Wild: Cheow Lan Lake Tour

Late that morning, we were picked up for a private tour of Cheow Lan Lake. We’d booked it in advance through GetYourGuide, more expensive than local options, but as we were only there for one full day it was worth it for peace of mind.

Our driver sorted all the entrance fees and walked us straight to our longtail boat. Weathered wood. Mist on the cliffs. And just us, a captain, and a guide.

Cheow Lan Lake is absolutely breathtaking. Emerald green water. Sheer limestone peaks. And a silence that made everything feel sacred. Even more incredible, the lake is man-made. It was created in the 1980s when the Ratchaprapha Dam flooded the jungle, forming a lake 185 square kilometres wide and over 100 metres deep.

We cruised between cliffs, stopping at Khao Sam Kler, a famous viewpoint called the “Three Sisters.” Our guide took photos with Lauren’s phone that somehow looked like they belonged in a travel magazine. Angles. Filters. Magic.

We stopped at Nang Prai Raft House for drinks and a short break. Prices were steep and we started to worry that this might be the whole tour. But then the guide told us they had a different plan. A new route. Just for us.

Swing Seats, Deep Lakes and Chicken Bats

First up a viewpoint accessible by a short jungle trail. The kind with a handmade swing, a wooden platform, and a view so wide it made our hearts race.

Next, our captain pulled into a hidden cove and gestured toward the water. Swim time.

It looked amazing. But Lauren has a thing about dark, deep water. Especially when you can’t see the bottom. After a whispered debate on the boat, she sent Steve in first. Classic move.

The water was warm and still, and the cliffs loomed silently around us. Steve floated in awe. Eventually, Lauren joined him. For twelve seconds. Then she rocketed back onto the boat like she was being chased by a lake monster.

Steve tried to climb back in and resembled a wet boulder attempting ballet. Not his finest moment.

Our final stop was a tiny inlet. The captain killed the engine. The guide pointed to a tree.

At first we saw birds. Then we realised they were bats. Massive, fruit bat-style creatures locals call chicken bats. Our guide made noise. Nothing happened. Then the captain revved the boat.

And the sky turned black.

Thousands of bats erupted into the air. It was apocalyptic and magical all at once. Even the captain took out his phone to film it. We sat there, speechless. It was a moment that genuinely made the world feel bigger and more mysterious.

We didn’t know it yet, but that feeling would be shattered by nightfall.

The Hardest Night

That evening, we returned to Black Stone Café for dinner, feeling grateful and content. Then our phone rang.

It was our daughter. Isla, our dog, our gentle giant, was critically unwell. The calls started coming. From home. From the vet. Blood tests. A terrible prognosis. We spent the entire night on the phone, heartbroken and helpless from thousands of miles away.

We had to make the worst decision a pet owner can make. And we had to do it from a jungle guesthouse, without hugs or goodbyes.

Our kids were incredible. Brave. Compassionate. Stronger than we knew. But that night shattered us. We lay in the dark, unable to sleep. Unable to breathe properly. Just crying and waiting for morning.

Kamala and Quiet Grief

The next day, we travelled to Kamala for our final stop in Thailand. The Ayara Kamala Resort was beautiful. Clifftop views. Infinity pool. Total serenity.

But we were broken.

We barely filmed. We barely left the room. Grief doesn’t care about palm trees.

On our final evening, we visited a local tattoo studio, a place we’d booked weeks earlier. We told them we might cancel, but they welcomed us in, offered drinks, chatted gently, and helped lift the weight off our shoulders. For the first time in days, we felt human again.

The next day, we got our tattoos. A quiet tribute. A mark of love. And we left for the airport with hearts that were still cracked but starting to heal.

Final Thoughts

Khao Sok gave us jungle chaos, ancient cliffs, bats, monkeys, and one of the most beautiful boat rides of our lives. But it also gave us pain. Real, raw pain.

And somehow, both experiences became part of the same story. Because travel isn’t just about beauty and adventure. It’s about feeling everything. And we felt it all.

Thanks for being part of this chapter. We’ll never forget it.