Legendary Sam Roi Yot

Two young visitors keep talking and laughing loudly on the trek from Ban Bang Pu to Laemsala Beach. I don't have the energy left to contribute to the conversation. Instead I'm gasping for breath. My legs are shaking and my heart is pumping fast.

It seems an opportune time to pretend to stop and take pictures. We have a full view of the coastal village of Ban Bang Pu, a ring of mountain peaks and the inland prawn farms of Sam Roi Yot National Park.

With boundless marshland, mangrove forests, saline ponds, limestone bluffs and 98.8 square kilometres of rugged coast, Thailand's first coastal national park was established in Prachuab Khiri Khan in 1966.

The name, Sam Roi Yot, means "mountains of 300 peaks".

No one knows for sure who counted the peaks, or weather it's actually 298 peaks, but some of them reach 600 metres, while many are only a few metres high, stretching the definition of "peak".

For those who enjoy local history, the area has tales to tell.

The province's most intriguing legend concerns Ta Mong Lai, a fisherman in Ao Noi who flipped when his beautiful daughter refused to marry a Chinese nobleman because she was in love with a poor local lad.

Her father tore her in two pieces and threw them into the sea, only to see the torso reemerge as an island, Koh Nom Sao, socalled because it's shaped like a young woman's breast.

This flight of the imagination extends to many of the beaches, bays and other islands in the province, and a mountain named for Ta Mong Lai's pestle.

Easier to believe is the Mountain of 300 Peaks' usefulness to early foreign sailors as a shoreline guide.

From craggy Khao Tien above Ban Bang Pu, I can spot a few of the famous islands, including the daughter's breast. Visitors commonly debate its size, possibly 34, maybe 36, but the waves tend to distract them from prurient jokes as they lash white foams against the shore.

Suddenly I'm thirsting for some fizzy pop, and the sea breeze refreshes me enough to keep me going.

Another 500 metres on is secluded Laemsala Beach, where a small sign translates as "You are still in good health!" The welcome doubles as a congratulatory boost and I'm feeling proud of myself for trekking this far.

Mountains enclose the beach, but if the climb seems too daunting, you can hire a boat at Ban Bang Pu for Bt400. It's a 15minute ride.

Once there, though, a little climbing is essential to visit the impressively huge Prayanakorn Cave and the royal pavilion of Kuhakaruhad.

They're another 500 metres uphill, suggesting that scaling Khao Tien was only a warmup, but the reward that awaits is worth bullying your leg muscles for.

King Chulalongkorn, the first monarch to visit Laemsala Beach and the cave, built the pavilion in 1890.

A strong wind coinciding with high tide can make swimming off the beach tricky, even though the water is shallow, but it's otherwise serene, and many people spend nights under the pine trees, gazing at Sattabut Island.

Most of the park is freshwater marshland and, at 70 square kilometres, Thung Sam Soi Yot is the largest such marsh in Thailand. It teems with blooming lotuses, birds, amphibians, reptiles and small mammals.

The World Conservation Union has recognised these fragile wetlands as a site of global importance, and more recently Thung Sam Roi Yot was designated Thailand's 11th Ramsar site under the Ramsar Convention, again acknowledging its international value.

I head inland to the village of Khao Daeng and arrive at Wat Khao Daeng, where the skippers of brightly painted boats charge Bt400 for a ride along a scenic canal.

A far cry from Bangkok's khlong, this waterway passes limestone peaks of various shapes and mangrove trees with big mudskippers and birds darting and poking among their roots.

Except for the thrum of the boat engine, everything is quiet and peaceful. The water is clear enough to reflect all of the scenery, doubling its magnificence.

This is a place that gives you back your privacy and space, and boosts your energy for the trip home.