Ban Krut to Khao Sok, Thailand.

I'm tempted to describe the fourth day of my Southern Thailand bike tour as the day of the debris. We start at Ban Krut, following the Gulf road and for the first time the road surface becomes potted and unpredictable. But that's okay, because there's little traffic, just the occasional ute-driving farmer and smiling schoolchildren on ancient scooters. We pass a fishing village, boats moored in the safe water of the river, racks with fish drying in the sun, old ladies at stalls selling fried banana, street dogs wandering aimlessly. A scooter repair shop owner has thrown all the disused tyres onto his thatched roof to hold it in place against the strong easterly. A pile of concrete water pipes are rolled into a ditch. Beside the river, piles of coconut husks are stacked twenty metres high. A man rides past on his scooter, a monkey on the handlebars, another on the pillion seat. They're used for climbing coconut trees to get the fruit. Much easier and cheaper than doing it yourself.

In every yard of every house, there is a pile of rubbish waiting to be burnt. Or buried? And well away from this pile, there is a spirit house. Before building a dwelling, the owner will consult a monk as to where the spirit house should be erected. It's wise to keep the spirits, both good and bad, happy by leaving food and water, or whiskey on a pedestal outside their brightly coloured and decorated miniature house. We stop for lunch at a non-descript restaurant on a backroad. Parked outside are a number of government vehicles. Good. It's where the local officialdom eat. Tempura prawns, thick soup with seafood and tofu, squid stuffed with egg, mild larb and a plate of mixed vegetables - all eaten while sitting in a pergola beside a pond. Verdict? Look up all the words under fantastic in your Thesaurus.

I don't really want to get back on my bike. I want to eat more. But my tour partners are already pedalling away and the tailwind is fading. I struggle the last thirty kilometres to Chumphon beach. Cathie and I walk along the sand. It's strewn with debris.

For breakfast, I carefully unpeel the banana leaves and scoop out the sticky rice topped with shredded coconut. There's enough sweetness in this serve to give me energy to ride today's projected one hundred and five kilometres. I have another one, just in case. The accumulated kilometres are making my joints ache. But after meeting Dave and Maria, two English cyclists, I stop complaining. They've ridden around the South Island of New Zealand, parts of Australia, and across the USA before arriving in Bangkok a few weeks ago. At a roadside stop, I try to lift Dave's Kona touring bike, complete with four panniers, front and rear. I need another sticky rice to get that much strength. The previous day they had ridden fifty kilometres with a road bike touring group, averaging 25 kilometres per hour. Easy on a road bike with no luggage. Dave has impressive thighs. We leave them to search for coffee. I fully expect they'll come racing past before the day is out. We're now deep into rural Thailand where there aren't a lot of tourists and all the seaside resorts look old, faded and desolate. The only people staying there appear to be the workers. Our hotel is called P&N Seafood and Resort. A few bungalows, a new hotel section and a restaurant beside the beach. Piles of rubbish are washed against the retaining wall between resort and beach, making it impossible to get to the sand. Flotsam and jetsam as far as the eye can see. We sit by the pool with a beer. Dave and Maria turn up on the bikes. They've ridden one hundred and twenty kilometres to our paltry one hundred and five. Dave dives into the water and swims a few laps. We are the only guests, even though it's high season.

The next day, Dave and Maria leave early. We hop in the support vehicle, guilt-laden, and are transported to Surat Thani for the start of our cycle west from the Gulf of Thailand across the country to the Andaman Sea. It's Children's Day today, so families are out enjoying the events on offer, an air-force display at the local base, carnivals, and best of all, no school. No school, but lots of traffic. We divert from the main cross-country road and ride through narrow lanes between rubber plantations and palm oil trees. The sap pots of the rubber trees are full to overflowing, like ornate shaving pots full of lotion. I imagine hooking up a mirror against the tree and shaving my beard.

The last time I cycled across Thailand, in July, I rode one hundred kilometres through a tropical storm. Today it's just rain, so heavy at times the road shoulder is flooded. We're pedalling against the current up into the hills. At the ninety kilometre mark, we walk into a restaurant hut and the owner offers us bath towels before the menu. We take off shoes and socks and sodden gloves and eat her delicious Chicken Massaman curry, green chicken curry, and tempura vegetables. Before we leave, she offers us a bunch of bananas from her tree out back. We apologise about the pool of water under our table.

We are now in Khao Sok National Park, home to virgin rainforest older than the Amazon. And where there is rainforest, there is... rain. We splash around some more on the bikes before arriving at the fantastic Cliff and River Jungle Resort. Our bungalow looks straight out at a limestone karst mountain three hundred metres high. And, in my outdoor shower is a frog, very similar to the fellow I met back at Ban Krut. I am happy here.

Best riding: Into Khao Sok National Park - scores of limestone karsts either side of the road. Who cares about the rain.

Worst riding: Through Chumphon city. Too many scooters and potholes.

Can I have some more, please? Green curry chicken, tempura vegetables, sticky rice with sweet bean.

You call that food: Maybe it was chicken, maybe calamari. Maybe neither.

Accommodation: NanaBeach Resort, Chumphon. ($$, great rooms, sticky rice for breakfast)

P&N Seafood Resort, Lang Suan. ($, the rooms were okay)

Cliff and River Jungle Resort, Khao Sok. ($$$, amazing views from the bungalows, good food, another frog!)