Kanchanaburi & Sangkhlaburi
We’d been warned not to expect too much from a visit to Kanchanaburi. We’d read that the levels of tourism here had reached circus proportions and that no-one took the gravity and profundity of the events that occurred here during the war too seriously. With that in mind, we only had 24 hours in and around the place, feeling compelled to visit but anticipating that we’d be glad to get out of there. But, for once, all the nay-sayers were completely wrong.
Yes there were moments when hearts sank watching people more interested in selfie shots, all inane poses, pouting and posturing as per usual, but that was few and far between. The general mood we encountered was sober and reflective, just as it should have been.
Kanchanaburi was a major node on the Thai-Burma railway, the so-called Death Railway, built in 1942/3 by the Japanese to supply their troops in Burma through a reliable land route and avoid the hazards of submarines sinking their ships in the Andaman sea. It was a vital aspect of their bid to ultimately invade India and kick the British out of their remaining Asian colonies. After the humiliating fall of Singapore, the Japanese had acquired a large supply of British and Australian prisoners of war, supplemented with Dutch troops captured in Indonesia, and decided to go ahead with the project. The British had also considered the idea years before, but based on the engineering required and the appalling terrain had discounted it as being just too damned hard. But, using the POWs as labour, along with thousands of Malay and Burmese conscript workers, the railway was built in just over a year, a quite unbelievable feat that is both testament to the increasing desperation of the Japanese, who realised the tide of war was changing and their merciless ability to drive a slave workforce to the point of destruction.
Kanchanaburi War Cemetery
It’s estimated that around 100,000 people died during the building of the railway, 80% of whom were Romusha, the term used to describe the Asian workforce that had no organisational leadership to resist the Japanese or access to any medical care. They died in their droves. To us, the railway is better known for the thousands of our own POWs who were killed through beatings, overwork, malnutrition and disease. At least 6,000 British troops were effectively murdered in this way.
There are several museums in and around Kanchanaburi where you can learn and be horrified. We focussed on just one, the excellent Death Railway Museum next to the British, Commonwealth & Dutch war graves cemetery. I’ve rarely visited a museum where complete silence prevails (the only other one that springs to mind is the Rwandan Genocide Museum in Kigali where the utterly unimaginable stories you hear leave you speechless), but here everyone moved around slowly, paying close attention and being clearly moved by first hand testimonies of torture and hardship and the death of comrades. The cemetery is also difficult to deal with. Row upon row of neat, uniform stone graves, each next to plants or flowers and on which are etched personal messages by families and friends. Most of the dead were brought here from the hundred or so makeshift camps along the railway route where the western victims were originally buried, easily identified by the meticulous records kept by other prisoners. Of the 80,000 Asians buried, only 2 were ever identified.
River Kwai bridge
River Kwai bridge
We visited the biggest draw in town of course – the bridge on the River Kwai. Made enormously famous by the film, it’s strange to reflect that the bridge here was actually just one of several steel constructs (not a big wooden one) and that it actaully spans the River Mae Klong (though this section was in fact renamed ‘Khwae Yai’ based on the success of the film). None of this matters of course. It’s still a bridge made, originally, by the POWs and is suitably emblematic of their endeavours and skill. We timed our visit to coincide with a crossing of the bridge by one of the few daily trains that ply the route still in operation, from Thonburi station in Bangkok to a tiny place called Nam Tok, stopping way short of the Burmese border. Here it was, inevitably, a little touristy. Naff souvenir stalls galore and a few loud Russians, but still enormously worthwhile.
Tham Krasae bridge
Tham Krasae bridge
Tham Krasae bridge
One of the most impressive features of the line are the wooden trestle bridges that are still in working order and that retain, in part at least, their original timbers. One such bridge is located near Tham Krasae station. Knowing there would be a train due over the bridge at 07:30, we got up early to make the hour long journey by taxi, and waited on a little platform next to the track (said platform was cordoned off with no entry signs, but as we were the only ones there, we ignored that, clambered through a wire fence and hoped no-one would come and shout us away). It was quite a sight – the bridge hugs a cliff face and stretches out in a graceful arc some 500 metres distant, so the train can be seen rounding the corner and approaching you at a very stately pace to avoid causing too much stress on the trestle structure. Four carriages were towed, some with early risers, heads stuck out of the windows, photographing me as I was photographing them, all with big grins on our faces……
Konyu Cutting aka Hellfire Pass
Konyu Cutting
We pushed on from there to the most celebrated part of the route, the Konyu Cutting, more famously known as Hellfire Pass, a notoriously tough section where thousands were killed cutting and blasting their way through huge slabs of rock. There’s a wonderful interpretative centre here, built by the Australian government as a good deal of work occurred here using Aussie troops, and sections of the now defunct railway line can be walked accompanied by a great audio guide that focuses on personal accounts and testimonies. The pass itself is a sobering sight. As well as recent commemorative plaques and memorials, you can still see areas of rock where prisoners hammered out holes for dynamite blasting. I walked a few more kilometres of the line (Helen retired for a drink) and in a few moments was hot, tired and sweaty. How anyone worked in these conditions, with just a handful of rice and barely enough water to keep them alive is beyond belief.
We’d thought we’d need to back-track to Kanchanaburi to get a bus to our next destination, the town of Sangkhlaburi situated near the three pagodas pass where the old railway crossed the Thai border, but our taxi man had a better idea. He spotted a big and rather knackered old bus coming towards us, turned around and drove like a madman in hot pursuit. He overtook the bus, then quickly braked, American cop-style, so the bus would stop behind us. Completely unfazed by the manoeuvre, the bus ‘conductor’ wordlessly grabbed our bags and stuffed them in the hold with a big smile and graciously welcomed us on board…
Mon Bridge, Sangkhlaburi
Sangkhlaburi had a totally different feel to the rest of the towns and villages we’d come across. Populated largely by the Mon, a people based mainly in Burma and western Thailand, it had a distinctly Burmese air about it and felt a million miles away from the tourist trail. It takes some effort to get here and to be honest there’s not a huge amount to do, but that can sometimes be the appeal for us. Once again we felt like we’d made a good decision.
The town is split into two by the River Songaria which is spanned by the tremendous Mon Bridge. At 400 metres long, it’s apparently the longest hand-built wooden bridge in the world and a lot of town life seems to revolve around it. At dawn and dusk, girls from the villages arrive with decorated alms bowls stacked on their heads and gently entice Thai visitors to have their picture taken with them. They do it for money, but never ask for it and are just grateful if anyone gives them anything.
The unsunken Wat Somdet, Sangkhlaburi
Wat Somdet, Sangkhlaburi
Wat Somdet, Sangkhlaburi
We took a ‘three sunken temples’ tour whilst here. Virtually anyone who owns a boat will take you out to see them, often for way less than their advertised set prices. The temples in question were ‘lost’ when the Srinagarindra Dam was created in the 1980s and at certain times of the year are submerged as a result. It wasn’t quite as it was claimed to be. The first temple was indeed partially sunken, but the second was perched safely on a hilltop and could be reached by a gentle stroll. The third was apparently so sunken, you couldn’t actually see it. A small flag fluttering on the surface of the lake was as good as that one got. Still, a lovely ride on the water in the setting sunlight and we were more than happy….
Mon Bridge, Sangkhlaburi
Mon Bridge, Sangkhlaburi
Mon Bridge, Sangkhlaburi
Mon Bridge, Sangkhlaburi
Mon Bridge, Sangkhlaburi
Mon Bridge, Sangkhlaburi
Mon Bridge, Sangkhlaburi
Mon Bridge, Sangkhlaburi
Another ‘thing to do’ here is to participate in, or watch, an alms giving ceremony. We’ve attended a few of these things before, mainly in Laos and it can be a little bit hit and miss (ceremonies in Luang Prabang for instance are hugely touristy). Here it promised to be different and to be fair we were the only tourists around at 06:30 in the morning. There were a lot of Thai visitors who’d come expressly for this purpose however, and the majority were dressed in very distinct white and red clothing, buying set-piece alms bowls in eager anticipation and giggling nervously. Once underway though, there was a rather celebratory mood about the whole thing, despite some rather non-plussed and disinterested looking monks. We wondered if they thought the process was a little too circus-like for their tastes.
Mon Bridge, Sangkhlaburi
Sangkhlaburi at dawn
Getting excited for alms giving, Sangkhlaburi
Alms giving, Sangkhlaburi
Alms giving, Sangkhlaburi
Alms giving, Sangkhlaburi
Alms giving, Sangkhlaburi
Mon Bridge after alms giving
We came across a strange temple at the other side of the Mon village. The Cheddi Puttha Khaya, on the outskirts of town, has a stupa quite unlike anything else. Rather than the usual curved, slightly bell-like structure, this one was an enormous tapered rectangle of brilliant gold and designed with various types of squares, arches and cog-like blocks. It looked like a gigantic three-dimentional puzzle or something that could be rotated and revolved if you turned the right cog or pressed the right block. We never did find out why it was like that. Our only suggestion, later reached after a number of alcoholic beverages, was that it must be a portal to an alternative universe accessed by time-travelling monks during the summer solstice. Clearly. Also at the same temple we came across some monks, drenched from top to toe and busily scrubbing away at the bright white arse of a temple guardian. A strange place indeed….
Cheddi Puttha Khaya / parallel universe portal
Cheddi Puttha Khaya
Cheddi Puttha Khaya
The rest of our time in Thailand was spent, in the main, in some serious relaxation. After a few long, tiring and largely forgettable days* getting to Bangkok and then down to the town of Chumpon in the south of the country, we made our way via speedboat from the town of Ranong to the island of Koh Phayam. There we spent a week doing absolutely bugger-all, unless you count hammock lounging and cocktail drinking, in a little beach hut in a tiny and quiet resort called Sabai Sabai (which translates as “I’m feeling fine, relaxed and chilled”). How appropriate – it was sheer bliss.
* The notable exception was a chance to ride on the Death Railway itself. We stopped at Kanchanaburi again expressly for the purpose and spent three lovely hours riding to Bangkok in a very old wooden carriage with glassless windows as the day (my birthday) drew to a close. A hot, windy and very dusty experience, but one not to be missed.
Thailand, in all honesty, has been a bit of a revelation. We’ve undoubtedly chosen places we thought might suit, but reality often has an uncanny ability to confound your expectations and desires. Not here though. It is definitely possible, in one of the most touristed places in the world, to find the escape or experience you’re looking for, if you look hard enough and make enough of an effort. We wondered whether we’d regret coming here, but it’s turned out to be a most fabulous and surprising month. Malaysia is next, via a long overnight train to the border……
Foo(t/d)note: Alms giving is a rather strange affair in Sangkhlaburi. You expect rice, rice and more rice to be the staple product being dished out and occasionally we did see that, however, nowadays it seems the alms are a little more varied. Juice drinks in plastic cartons, packets of crisps, packs of biscuits, tissues & toilet rolls seem to be the thing to donate and are sold to alms givers in pre-prepared cellophaned packs. Not much fruit that we could see, hardly anything fresh at all. The process involved each monk presenting a sizable bowl to the alms giver. They then tip their goodies (or selected items) into the bowl and that in turn is passed to a helper who walks alongside the procession. The helper unceremoniously dumps the contents of the bowl into a large sack. When the sack starts to get too heavy, the helper takes it off to a nearby pick-up truck and tips it out into the back. It all seemed a little mercenary and somewhat undignified to us. It didn’t seem to bother anyone else though – as far as they were concerned they’d gained merit from the act and that was what really mattered….
Simon (9th February 2026)
Always interesting and beautiful photos. Especially poignant reading about the loss of life of PoWs and locals in building the Death railway x
Thanks Katrina. Very sobering place as you can imagine….
Sounds like a sombre experience, and frightening what people can be capable of. Fabulous photos as usual and youve given me lots of ideas for when i eventually get to thailand.
Good – never thought I’d be recommending it tbh, but we thought it was fabulous. It’s now on the ‘to go back to’ list, which is a very short list indeed (in a good way of course)
What a way to look at history, the railway ,& bridges.you can’t beat the real thing. Glad you got a rest before your next adventure. Photos are incredible as usual. X
What a way to experience history first hand railway & bridges. Glad you got a rest for a while.before your next adventure. Photos are magnificent as usual.