Introduction
Before starting a new chapter, I felt the need to create some space. Space to think, to reset, and to test myself properly. So I chose a simple idea with a not-so-simple execution: cycle solo and unsupported from Bangkok to Singapore.
The route was roughly 2,100 kilometres. From the heart of Bangkok, down Thailand’s east coast to Surat Thani, cutting inland towards the southern border, then following Malaysia’s west coast to Georgetown for a single rest day. From there, it was four final days riding south to Singapore.
The plan was eleven days of riding with one rest day. On paper, it felt achievable. In reality, I knew it would stretch me.
I’ve always been drawn to A-to-B challenges. There’s something deeply satisfying about watching the map unroll beneath you. Each day has a clear purpose. Wake up, ride south, repeat. Progress is tangible, honest, and earned. That sense of momentum is addictive.
Riding solo changes everything. There’s no wheel to sit on, no shared suffering, no one to lift your mood when things dip. If this was going to work, I needed a plan I trusted.
Details
Article First Published on: Oct 23
One Long Line South
Bangkok to Singapore 23
Planning the Line
Most of the preparation happened quietly, long before the first pedal stroke. Hours spent staring at maps, weighing up road types, distances, heat, and terrain. I broke the route into daily segments of around 170 to 215 kilometres. Distances I knew were manageable, but only if I respected the pace.
Solo riding meant slower days. I assumed nine to ten hours in the saddle, sometimes more. The goal wasn’t speed. It was sustainability.
I kept accommodation flexible. Nothing was fully booked at the start. Asia makes that easy. As the days passed and confidence grew, I locked things in one by one.
The plan wasn’t about control. It was about removing unnecessary decisions when tiredness crept in.
Rolling out of Bangkok
I started where I felt I had to start. Central Bangkok, at Wat Pho. It would have been easier to skip the city and roll out from somewhere quieter. But that felt like a compromise I didn’t want to make. Bangkok to Singapore meant exactly that.
I left at 4 am, aiming to beat the traffic. An hour in, the skies opened. Torrential rain. Flooded roads. Warm water up to the hubs. It felt like the trip was testing me immediately.
Then, just as quickly, the storm passed. By mid-morning I was riding clear roads, salt in the air, heading south. Hua Hin was the first stop. One day down.
The following days along Thailand’s east coast were some of the best riding I’ve ever done. Long, open roads. Quiet stretches where time disappeared. The kind of riding where you settle into yourself.
Living out of three bags
Everything I needed lived in three small bags on a road bike. Lightness mattered. So did routine.
Each afternoon followed the same rhythm. Sort food before stopping. Wash kit in the sink. Clean the bike. Charge everything. Repack. Prepare for the next day.
These small tasks mattered more than they sounded. When fatigue builds, it’s easy to let standards slip. I didn’t want that. Good food. As much sleep as possible. Alarm set for 5 am.
Repeat.
The hard moments
This kind of ride always has its edges.
Wild dogs were an early surprise. The first few encounters were unsettling. Over time, I learned how to read them. Cross the road early. Time the effort. Stay calm.
Later came muscle pain and illness, including on the rest day. Day nine was the low point. Heavy heat. Traffic busier than expected. Flat scenery. A body that didn’t want to play along.
That day was about patience. Keep moving. Trust that it would pass. And it did.
Starting earlier helped. More stops. Ice. Cold water. Small adjustments made a big difference in the final days.
One lesson stood out clearly. The lows are never as low as you fear, and the highs are never quite as high as you imagine. The key is staying level. Stick to the plan. Keep turning the pedals.
Finishing in Singapore
Rolling into Singapore on schedule was quietly emotional. No fanfare. Just a deep sense of completion.
This ride was inspired by a friend who had done something similar. I hope, in turn, it nudges someone else to draw a line on a map and see what happens when they follow it.
For me, it was the right way to close one chapter and open another. Tired, sunburnt, and completely content.
The adventure lives in the photos and videos.
This is the story behind them.
The High Point
After crossing the Thailand / Malaysia border the road zig zagged up to the high point of the trip at Wang Kelian Viewpoint