Railey Beach - Just Relax

On the Ferry to Railey

I’ve traded the seven-day-a-week beach party for something a little more relaxed. Railey Beach actually consists of two beaches, and that’s about it. It’s landlocked by enormous, jagged limestone cliffs to the North, and water everywhere else; not quite an island, not quite the mainland either. Long tail boat is the only way in or out, so it attracts a certain type of traveler: someone looking for chilled out beach or rock time.

West beach consists mainly of larger resorts, but has the best white sand beach seen yet. East beach has some smaller businesses, bars, and restaurants, an awful mangrove beach, and that’s about it. There’s a dirt walkway between the two. Similar to Phi Phi, there is no motor traffic here. There aren’t really any roads, or paths either making pedestrian traffic the only mode of transport. Railey literally is two beaches, and the path that connects the two with a few limestone caves around.

The limestone cliffs that enclose the beaches are really unique. Most caves in the world are formed from limestone, and in that, we can assume there are a lot of caves here. It’s true. I’ve walked on whatever small paths I can find to discover untouristed cave systems. Some are large, some are very small. Heaven for me though. Even without a true to the word ‘cave’, the cliffs have formed large stalagmites, and stalactites that just simply hang off the sides. Cave swifts (click to watch), small bats, and geckos are abundant. Railey really is one of the first places I’ve been to where wildlife is still viewable. Gibbons, Macaques, and spider monkeys patrol the place, while squirrels chase each other all day long. Fish are abundant, and are BBQed daily along the beach.

Diamond Cave

From my beach bungalow, I can hear so many interesting noises throughout the day. The morning starts with monkey calls, the ending songs of the cicadas (click to hear), the waves lapping and the occasional long boat. Long boat engines drone out most other noises in the afternoon, but by six the jungle comes alive again with deafening competition for the loudest call between insects and frogs. As I write this blog I hear thunder not that far away. I’m awaiting the afternoon thunder storm in my hammock. The waves are barely heard through the chorus of screaming cicadas, but I do manage to sleep well with the doors and windows open under a mosquito net. Two thumbs up for the tropics.