Phetchaburi Bus Accident in Rain Awakens Safety Concerns on Hua Saphan Curve

In the tranquil nighttime hum of Phetchaburi’s roads, a journey meant to carry its passengers across the majestic landscapes of Thailand quickly morphed into a spine-chilling saga that will forever linger in their memories. Nestled in the back of a seemingly sturdy tour bus, 28 unsuspecting travelers, both Thai natives and eager globetrotters, embarked from the pulsating heart of Bangkok, the Southern Bus Terminal, poised for the azure shores of Phuket. However, at a notorious bend on the southbound sweep of Phetkasem Road, the tour bus journey spiraled into turmoil, cascading the unsuspecting in a cacophony of chaos and dread at precisely 8:30 PM on the night of July 8.

Police Lieutenant Sunantha Rotphet of Phetchaburi City Police Station could hardly have anticipated the distressing dispatch that would soon command her attention, reporting an overturned bus lying vulnerable at kilometre 151, nestled within Hua Saphan subdistrict. The peculiar fame of this bend flashed ominously, a segment infamous for casting a shadow of peril, ensnaring even the most experienced drivers in its treacherous grasp, particularly when rain tap dances on its asphalted stage.

The night deepened its drench as the rain intensified, and as emergency teams sprinted towards the scene, the symphony of sirens pierced the deluge, painting an urgent canvas of blue and red. Units from Phra Chom Klao Hospital and Mahachai Phetcharat Hospital, flanked by the unwavering dedication of the Sawang Sarn Phet Thammasathan Foundation along with intrepid rescue volunteers, approached what could only be described as a harrowing tableau playing out in shadowy confusion.

Visible through the cascade of shattered glass, the blue and white leviathan, registration 10-1057 Phuket, lay vulnerably on its side. The battered metal exterior stood as silent testament to the scramble for freedom undertaken by its passengers. Inside, an ensemble of trapped individuals, animated by primal survival, clambered and clotted over remnants of now-useless seats. Tapestries of confusion and anxiety mingled with the rain as survivors smashed glass to escape, their silhouettes cast against headlights in stark relief.

Locals who observed the catastrophe remarked that many had predicted trouble would cling to this curve ever since the rains had begun. Multiple accidents marred these curves, writing stories of despair, fear, and, too often, fatality. As the storm clouds beckoned and thickened again, inching across the heavens, caution was the clarion call—caution, that intangible preventative measure that, as officials pleaded post-accident, drivers could never indulge in too much when navigating Hua Saphan’s infamous curves.

Miraculously, everyone survived, but the collective consciousness bore the impression, a communal scar etched deeper by the knowledge of eleven of their own being whisked to Phra Chom Klao Hospital and Bangkok Hospital Phetchaburi, clamoring for healing via care and kinship. Meanwhile, those relatively unscathed were gathered and gently ushered towards the welcoming arms of Phetchaburi Provincial Hall, a haven until the mechanical successor—a replacement bus—would politely ferry them back on their way.

Amidst the hustle and the state-commanded response, pacing with authority and empathy, arrived Deputy Governor Phakphas Songwattanayut. Here, he steered alongside the committed duo of Chongnang Butrat from the Provincial Public Health Office and the acute acumen of Thanaradee Rattanamnuan, the sage behind many transport safety mandates. They came not just as overseers but as stewards of care, intent on ensuring each injured soul received their rightful sanctuary.

The echoes of Thelingsak Tapina’s voice, the bus driver, hovered—a humble recount of circumstances beyond control—”It was raining lightly when we entered the curve. The road was slippery, and the bus just spun out and flipped.” His words rang with the truth of mechanical misfortune, yet steered an implicit warning woven for others— caution isn’t just advisable; it’s essential.

As the night waned and order trickled back, the memory of this night—lost control, spinning wheels, and a flip—remained a haunting lecture, a persistent nudge reminding all who might frequent this path. Among the shadows of thunderclouds and rainfall, the collective embarked on the road of caution, shell-shocked yet resolute, echoing in silent promise to never forget the perils of the killer curve.