It only recently dawned on me that Phuket isn't actually an island at all, but rather a peninsula that has only minimally separated from the mainland. The strait that separates them is like a river that has burst its banks; they're like a couple who recently divorced but are still in contact, perhaps even too much so.

Crossing the Sarasin Bridge from Phang Nga to Phuket with my friend Allano and his family made this clear to me. The bridge was at most a kilometer long; since a rainbow appeared to the east of it amidst the storm clouds, I almost didn't notice when our time on Saphan began and ended.

To put it very clearly: This realization – that Phuket is not an island, at least not like the Similan or Phi Phi islands or even the Yao islands – has helped me to put my long-held negative perception of Phuket into perspective: that a trip here is something you have to endure rather than enjoy.

I never particularly liked Phuket, not even in its heyday. That's why, on the second Sunday of 2022, as the clouds of the pandemic slowly began to clear, I tried to show understanding.

And yet, while the birds were awake and the power lines hummed at 5:42 a.m., not a single store was open or even operating. "Open 24 hours," proclaimed the sign of the FamilyMart near my hotel in Kata Beach. The windows were covered with newspaper on one side and a layer of dust on the other.

I saw seven destroyed 7-Eleven stores – I didn't count the other brands – during my two-hour walk between the southern end of Kata Beach and the southern end of Patong, where I planned to turn left and walk the kilometer-long uphill path to Freedom Beach.

Unfortunately, three stray dogs blocked my path for less than a hundred meters; I'm not afraid of dogs, but I am afraid of rabies. I went back to the run-down main street, where half a dozen abandoned hotels stood eerily behind a faded billboard for Simon's Cabaret, Phuket's most famous ladyboy singing and dancing show.

The driver of the yellow songthaew, who was apparently operating as a private taxi, had already spotted me before I could even begin to look for him.

“Saam roy baat,” he said when I told him my destination, justifying the exorbitant price with the steepness of the road—as if that would make any difference for a motorized vehicle. Since I'm supposedly here to support the local economy, I only managed to haggle the price down to 250.

The bad news? Freedom Beach was not only incredibly difficult to reach, but also nothing special compared to what I've seen elsewhere in Thailand, or even compared to Kata or Karon – perhaps better than Patong, but that doesn't mean much.

I was not only disappointed by the overgrown vegetation blocking the viewpoint for which I had paid 100 baht, but the beach itself also reeked of a distinct sewage smell, which, strangely enough, didn't seem to bother any of the other tourists. I would have said they were all infected with Covid, if people with Omicrons didn't lose their sense of taste and smell.

The only positive thing about my rather disastrous morning was that it laid the foundation for my afternoon, which I spent on the other side of the island in Phuket Town. Well, when I got there: I had to wait an hour for the bus (which was also a songthaew) and during that time I turned away at least half a dozen con artists.

I want to contribute to the local economy, but not too much.

The old town impressed me far more this time than during my last stroll through the colorful Sino-Portuguese shophouses of Soi Rommani and Soi Dibuk; this was surprising considering how many other places I've visited since then. In fact, I still prefer Georgetown on the Malaysian island of Penang, which I visited long before Phuket Town.

And yet, sometime between the sight of the blue and white tiles under the turquoise arches of the Standard Chartered Bank building and enjoying a Thai whiskey and cola in a kitschy Thai-French restaurant – I'm not ashamed to admit that I only visited it to take photos – the suddenly bright sun of a day that had started cloudy lifted my entire mood.

Like the dutiful Phuket tourist I never really was, I ended the day with a sunset at Cape Promthep, where I downed another Sangsom cocktail near two young and relatively attractive men who, judging by their loud conversation, were nevertheless sex tourists.

On the way back to Kata with a taxi driver I had overpaid – I was too hungry to argue or complain – the emerald green lights of distant fishing boats lined the horizon, much like how in Patong you used to be able to spot all the prostitutes from hundreds of meters away when they were still numerous and in demand.

(That's not really a fitting metaphor. My first day back in Phuket was undoubtedly good, even though my experience at Promthep Cape clearly showed me that I should have stayed overnight in Nai Harn rather than in Kata.)

The ghosts of my past as a prostitute were the last thing on my mind Monday morning as I sped from Chalong Pier towards Racha Island. I also tried to shake off my expectations, mainly because of the tour's low price: 1,000 baht isn't worth much in 2022, at least not in Phuket.

I knew that neither Koh Racha nor Koh Khai would be as spectacular as the Similan Islands – and I tried not to think about how Koh Haa or Koh Rok would have compared, had I had the chance to visit them. So I focused on Phuket, which quickly disappeared behind me as the boat headed south. The Big Buddha seemed imposing at first, and then in an instant was barely noticeable.

Once I'd had my fill of the horizon, I focused on the water, on how the ship sliced ​​through and then split the surface of the sea as it hurtled through it like a missile. How could I have missed this phenomenon? It was like a physics problem in 3D; aerodynamics—no, hydrodynamics—in vivid color.

Before I could even find a solution, my speed suddenly decreased. An object in motion doesn't always stay in motion.

The beauty of Koh Racha, like that of most Thai islands, reveals itself gradually. The sea appears dark and deep until it suddenly brightens; when you realize you're above a crystal-clear pool with a coral bottom, you're almost blinded by its fluorescent light. Although I would have enjoyed the perfection of the crescent-shaped beach even more without the cacophony of countless longtail boats, yachts, and speedboats in the harbor, I savored every moment.

Although Koh Racha did not quite reach the standards of its sister island Koh Similan, it captivated me through accidental references to my own biography.

On the shore, where my feet sank so deep into the wet powder snow that the fragments of coral beneath them ached, a black butterfly followed me like a stray puppy. Its presence reminded me of a 2010 bike trip to the Blue Lagoon of Vang Vieng in Laos, which had produced one of my all-time favorite photographs.

The run-down-looking restaurant where the tour group ate their lunch buffet reminded me of Monsoon Marge's at the Six Flags Hurricane Harbor amusement park near St. Louis. My first summer job was in 2000 in the souvenir shop, completely unaware of the adventures that awaited me on a ship in my middle years.

Coral Island was undoubtedly more sensual, probably because I actually took the time to wallow in the bathwater-warm, shallow water where sea and land meet. As I dug my fingers deep into the sugary mush, pieces of shell trickled out – the sand was still developing.

It's as if I'm playing with the past, I thought to myself, feeling a little crazy as I considered the reality of the situation: the rotting bones of all our ancestors slipped through my fingers; I was as happy as the shells lurking just off the coast, with a sneering grin at least as long as the Sarasin Bridge.

Phuket is basically reachable from anywhere on a day trip, if you view the island the way I do: an unpredictable peninsula whose tides have other plans. Phuket Town is easily accessible from Kata, Karon, and Kamala; Cape Promthep from Mai Khao and Phuket Airport; and the Big Buddha is reachable from almost anywhere on a day trip.

I skipped a day trip to Koh Khao Ping Kan, better known as James Bond Island. As I sat in my hotel room on my last morning in Phuket, waiting for my return trip to Phang Nga, I wondered if I would regret missing this attraction. Allano had assured me it was disappointing and not worth the entrance fee.

The wind rustling in the palm trees above my bungalow was unusually strong for a clear morning. It had a cooling rhythm, exactly what my sunburnt shoulder craved. It sounded cold, as if a blizzard (and with it, the apocalypse) might break loose outside my window.

Other frequently asked questions about day trips from Phuket

Is it possible to take a day trip to Phi Phi Island from Phuket?

Although a day trip from Phuket to Phi Phi by speedboat is theoretically possible, it would be very rushed. A better option would be to spend a night on Koh Phi Phi and use the first day to explore the main island. On the second morning, you could then take the speedboat to Maya Bay and return to Phuket in the evening.

Is it possible to take a day trip to Krabi from Phuket?

You can take a day trip to Krabi from Phuket, although this naturally depends on what you want to do in Krabi. While sights like Koh Phi Phi and Railay Beach can be visited on a day trip, I personally think an overnight stay is worthwhile to truly enjoy them.

Which is better, Phuket or Phi Phi?

If you're looking for stunning nature, idyllic beaches, and typical Thai landscapes, Phi Phi is the perfect place. Phuket, on the other hand, although officially an island, offers more of an urban feel than typical island life. Whatever that means to you!