Things to Do in Songkhla in February

February's 76 percent humidity is about as forgiving as Songkhla gets, and the dry skies mean you can spend a full morning in the Old Town without ducking into convenience stores every fifteen minutes to cool down. Start around 7 AM, when the shopkeepers on Nakhon Nai Road are still hosing down the pavement and the smell of fresh Chinese pastries escapes from bakeries that have been running since before the shophouses had electricity. Three parallel streets, Nakhon Nai, Nakhon Nok, and Nang Ngam, cut through a quarter of Sino-Portuguese architecture that reads like a faded family album of southern Thailand's Chinese-Malay trading past. The walls are layered with street art murals now, many riffing on the neighbourhood's own history, and the Chinese shrines tucked between the houses still burn joss sticks that leave a sweet, waxy haze at doorway level. If you happen to be here during Chinese New Year week in early February, the whole quarter turns red with lanterns, and the crack of firecrackers echoes off the narrow lanes at unpredictable intervals. By mid-morning the heat builds fast, so finish at one of the old-town coffee shops, the kind with marble-top tables and ceiling fans doing their best, before the sun is directly overhead.

Songkhla Lake is Thailand's largest natural lake, technically a lagoon system connected to the Gulf of Thailand, and February's post-monsoon stillness leaves the surface so glassy that the longtail boats cutting across it barely rock. Ko Yo, the island connected to the mainland by the Tinsulanonda Bridge, sits in the middle and feels like a step back in time. The air smells of drying fish and the faintly sweet, woody scent of raw cotton from the weaving villages where women still work hand looms producing the intricate pha ko yo fabric the island is known for. The Folklore Museum on the island's hilltop is worth the climb for its collection of southern Thai artifacts and for the panoramic views of the lake stretching hazy at the edges in February's warm light. Down by the waterfront, stalls sell whatever came off the boats that morning: squid, prawns, and a local fish called pla gra pong, grilled over charcoal until the skin blisters and served with a sharp, chilli-loaded dipping sauce that numbs and wakes you up simultaneously. The lake villages go sleepy by early afternoon in the February warmth, so arrive before 10 AM for the liveliest atmosphere.

Thale Noi Waterfowl Park sits roughly 80 km (50 miles) north of Songkhla city, at the upper end of the Songkhla Lake system. February is likely the single best month to visit. The migratory birds that arrived from as far as Siberia and China during the cooler months are still in residence. The lotus flowers that carpet the shallows are in bloom. Thousands of pink and white heads break the surface of water so still it mirrors the clouds. The sound out here is notable. A constant low chatter of waterfowl punctuates the air. The slap of wings on water as cormorants take off. The distant thrum of longtail boat engines approaching from the reed channels. You might spot purple swamphen, painted storks, and, if you brought binoculars and the light cooperates, spot-billed pelicans nesting in the taller trees at the water's edge. February's dry weather means the access roads to the park are passable without the deep mud that plagues monsoon-season visits. The heat builds fast on open water with no shade at all. Bring a wide-brimmed hat. Pack plenty of water. Start as early as you can manage. Dawn departures around 5:30 AM catch the peak bird activity and the coolest air.

Songkhla's food is southern Thai to the bone. It is markedly spicier, more pungent, and more turmeric-stained than anything you have eaten in Bangkok or the islands. February evenings cool toward 23°C (73°F) after sunset. Outdoor eating at the Tae Raek Night Market becomes comfortable rather than the damp ordeal the monsoon months deliver. The market spreads along the Old Town's streets with stalls selling khao yam, the southern rice salad tossed with lemongrass, shredded herbs, toasted coconut, and a fish-sauce dressing that hits sour and salty simultaneously. The dominant smell is charcoal smoke layered with the nose-clearing heat of chilli paste being pounded in stone mortars a stall away. Seek out gaeng som, a sour curry thin as broth, loaded with fish and vegetables, that tastes nothing like what the central Thai version prepared you for. The roti stalls, a legacy of the region's Malay-Muslim communities, press and flip dough on hot griddles until it goes flaky and half-translucent, then fold it around banana or egg. During Chinese New Year week the market expands with seasonal sweets: sticky rice cakes wrapped in banana leaf and steamed buns stamped with red characters that the Old Town's Chinese families produce once a year.

Samila Beach is where Songkhla faces the Gulf of Thailand. In February the water sits calm enough that the fishing boats anchored offshore barely swing on their lines. The beach runs about 3 km (1.9 miles) under a canopy of casuarina pines whose dropped needles carpet the sand between the tree line and shore, lending the whole stretch a soft, resinous smell that mixes with the salt air blowing off the Gulf. The Golden Mermaid statue at the southern end is Songkhla's most photographed landmark. Locals treat it with a mix of civic pride and easy familiarity: families posing at every hour, vendors selling coconut ice nearby, kids chasing each other around the base. The sand here is coarse and golden-brown, not the powder white of Andaman coast beaches. The water in February is warm enough that wading in feels like stepping into a bath left standing. From the beach, the walk up Khao Tangkuan, the hill at the cape's southern tip, takes about twenty minutes on a paved path and rewards you with a view spanning the Gulf on one side and Songkhla Lake on the other. In February's clear, dry air, visibility is some of the best all year: you can trace the curve of coastline south toward the Malaysian border. Bring water for the climb. There is no shade on the upper portion. At midday the reflected heat off the concrete path makes the air feel ten degrees worse than the thermometer claims.