Inner city life, inner city pressure...

What a week it has been! Since the last blog we have decided on a name for Dan’s new boxer puppy (well, I say we decided, but the dog did by choosing a bit of paper that we’d written on) and its set to keep its original name of Naja. That is the way, as Taoists and Buddhists would say.

 

In the past week I’ve seen the jostle and crowds of central Chiang Mai, though they seem tame in comparison to the heart of Bangkok. I’ve seen the natural beauty of Chiang Mai’s mountainous ranges, limestone caverns, valleys and reservoirs. I’ve experienced the spirituality and theology of some of Thailand’s most majestic monasteries and temples. I’ve felt the adrenal rush at one of the largest thrill seekers paradise spots set in the canopies of the Mae Kompong tropical rainforest. I’ve shopped for fresh vegetables and rice at the small community street markets. I’ve even eaten insects – wok fried, of course.

 

The first day of our trip to Chiang Mai was really just used to set us up for the week. We slept well after our day of travel and spent the afternoon shopping for vegetarian food and renting a moped. With the traffic being a lot less dense than the capital there are many places available for motorbike rental, though the abundance of mopeds and one-way traffic systems doesn’t make it any easier! The cost of living is also noticeably different in the northern districts. A chicken Pad Thai in Bangkok will cost a visitor (not a local, who I’m certain get it cheaper) anything between 100 and 175 Baht while the same sized portion in Chiang Mai – with prawns instead of chicken, cost me just 30 Baht. Similarly, a can of beer is half the price, and even the prices in 7 Eleven are cheaper up north. That’s not to say that everything is cheaper for travellers though. You can expect to pay up to ten times more than a local to enter many public attractions, sometimes even being charged entry that is otherwise free to the natives.

 

With a good night’s sleep behind us and a full day of rest, our first attraction to see was Doi Suket – a small, peaceful temple situated at the top of a small mountain. On the way, we ventured out to a large reservoir located in one of the hundreds of national parks that dominate the northern states. With two of us on an already struggling moped, the predominantly uphill journey was both long and tedious but it allowed us to see much more of the scenery than we would have if we travelled at top speed. The uphill struggle was more than worth when we were rewarded with the tranquil man-made lake situated in the centre of an array of small foliaged mountains and a view of the thousands and thousands of acres of untouched natural forests. We stayed here while our bums regained feeling from the rumbling of the small engine through the ill-padded moped seat, and allowed Dan to get a few idyllic photo opportunities. Thankfully the way back down was much quicker and easier, and we soon found ourselves at the foot of Doi Suket with hundreds of steps to climb. Again, the gruelling task of stairs at elevation was rewarded- this time with the smiles of a large group of boys in orange robes, with shaven heads. These novices, the literal translation, are Buddhist monks in training, taken in by the temples and monasteries from the poorest families and offered the chance of an education and a life of more than just begging for your food. When we asked them how many steps there were to the top of the temple, they ran down and back up them for fun, counting as they went. It turns out there are 280 steps in all, which is probably about the same amount of time the boys have to go up and down them each day fetching food, clothing, books and whatever else is needed for the elder monks. The view from the temple at the top was breathtaking. With the sun setting behind the mountains, the rice fields and scattered villages in the valleys were all soaked in a crimson light, and the distant twinkling of the cities traffic could be seen on the horizon like a field of fireflies. You could certainly accept why the monks chose to live in such a remote, scenic location.

 

The itinerary for the next day involved even more moped riding as we ventured out to Tum Muang On caves. Found just over 100 years ago by a wandering Monk, the cool limestone caves were soon transformed into a network of shrines and Buddhist temples deep in the heart of a mountain. Today they attract more tourists than pilgrims, but the site still maintains a serene atmosphere similar to that of any other holy site. The chilled temperature in the caves was a welcome break from the relentless 30-something degree heat outside, but there is something unsettling about being in a cave below thousands of tons of rock, so our stay was only around an hour – though this was more than enough to see the majority of it. The only thing we had missed was a small fresh water spring inside the cave, but we were told that it was nothing special; perhaps to ease our minds. Our way home also provided more relief from the heat, when the skies opened up and a late afternoon monsoon shower hit. We managed to seek refuge in a roadside stall until the weather brightened up, and it gave us a chance to wring the rain out of our clothes! As soon as there was a break, we jumped on the ‘peds and were off home again!

 

The next day was a personal highlight of the trip so far; a day at Flight Of The Gibbon. Voted as one of the best tourists attractions in Thailand, I could certainly see the appeal of over 2km of zip lines and absailing platforms. The locals of Mae Kompong originate from the Chiang Mai area but ventured into the mountains to farm and harvest tea and coffee, and our bus trip up the mountain made it more than apparent with the various coffee shops that adorn the roadsides. In fact, it was with the natives knowledge of their local environment that allowed the company to set up their platforms so quickly. Originally mountain climbers, the Flight of the Gibbon founders had no idea how to scale the trees to attach the zipline platforms. They therefore employed the locals, who regularly climbed the trees to harvest honey from beehives, to climb up and attach the rigging. Once this was done, the engineers could then use pulleys and ropes to hoist up the platforms and secure them properly. This reduced their construction time from an estimated 18 months down to just four! And to show how grateful for the help they are, the owners donate a percentage of all ticket sales back to the villages to help preserve the local ecosystem, and regularly plant trees to offset the carbon emissions from the regular bus trips up and down the mountains. The site is just one of several new “ecotourist” ventures in Thailand, making the country aware of how profitable it can be to be environmentally friendly. Not that they need much persuading, mind you. A quick walk about the Walking street markets in Chiang Mai made it very apparent that environmental awareness is very, very fashionable. Every other person was selling bags or t-shirts with slogans like “One world, one chance” or “burn fat not oil”, and the like. Even in developing countries like Thailand, the inhabitants are very conscious of their duty to preserve their country for future generations.

 

Another day, another temple; Doi Suthep this time. Again, nested high up on a mountaintop, Suthep provides visitors with 304 steps to climb (at an elevation of nearly 1500m) and an unrivalled view of the Chiang Mai city basin. That is, of course, if you get there on a clear day. Arriving at about eight in the morning to beat the crowds, we had nothing but cloud cover to view from the look-out point, limiting our views to just a couple of feet in front of our noses. Luckily, as the day heated up, the clouds cleared and by the time we’d reached the temple at the very top, the clouds had almost completely evaporated allowing us to see the amazing scenery and landscape that stretched for miles.

 

The temples in Doi Suthep are over 700 years old and are considered to be some of the most elaborately decorated outside of Bangkok. Golden, Jade and Marble statues of various Buddha’s bejewelled every possible crevice, while rows and rows of bells line outside for visitors to ring for good luck. Each bell has been bought from money donated by various sources – obviously the larger the bell, the larger the donation. Some were the size of your hand, while one or two were the size of a small car. Inside the temple square stands a huge golden spire, which, on a clear day, is visible from Dan’s house – about 15km away.  According to legend, walking three times around the spire and providing an offering of candles, incense and flowers is enough to bring good luck. Luckily enough, there are stalls dotted all over the temple offering such goods for a nominal fee. It is also possible to be blessed on the site by a Buddhist monk who says a prayer, blesses you with water, and gives you a white cotton wristband to protect you from bad spirits. There is no charge for this (presumably as its included in the entrance fee), though you must remember to kneel at all times and never raise your head higher than the Monk or any of the ornamental statues around the room. Doing such, as well as showing the soles of your feet, is considered enormously offensive.

 

Doi Suthep was the last real attraction that we visited in Thailand, and it was probably best to end on such a high note. Our last night was celebrated with a barbeque of local meats and vegetables in Dan’s garden, and an early night before our day of travelling 2 continents, 3 airports, 5 timezones, and 10 hours of airtime.  After all of this, and almost a day spent in the now familiar sterility of airport waiting rooms, we touched down in Sydney, Australia.

 

But that’s another story…

Take me to the beach...

Greetings from Chiang Mai! I've travelled far and wide, by various means, since our last update but i honestly don't have too much to talk about for now. I'll still try and fill the page though.

From leaving Ko Tao, Cass and i headed to Ko Pha Ngan for our next stop. Ko Pha Ngan is probably one of the most notable destinations on the infamous Banana pancake trail (a term given to the well trodden and constantly growing routes around South East Asia travelled by backpackers and tourists), predominantly for its full moon parties on Haad Rin beach. Starting off as a small birthday bash by a couple of backpackers in the mid-eighties, it gathered attention and momentum and now reaches numbers of around 30,000 people - foreign and local, every full moon. With our stay on the island coinciding with May's full moon, it seemed only logical to pay Haad Rin a visit!

Arriving at the port in Thong Sala, we were greeted by a taxi which was run on behalf of our resort. As it was completely unexpected (and free!) we had no qualms about waiting a few minutes for a second taxi while the first one took their full load away. The local vendors saw this as an ideal opportunity to convince us that their resort was much better! Our resort, Sunset Cove, had been recommended to us by a friend who'd stayed there earlier in the year. The location on the west-coast, as far away from Haad Rin as geographically possible, acted as a deterrent for any hardcore ravers or party animals and ensured a peaceful nights sleep for the rest of us! As the taxi pulled up outside the resort, we were greeted with a handshake and a pineapple juice, and let through a maze of wooden platforms set into a scene of vivid green plants and vines. The occasional passing car was easily masked by the noise of chirping crickets and the splashing of the tide against the restaurants wooden terrace. The setting couldn't be any more different from the crammed budget accommodation of Ko Tao despite only being 50 Baht (£1) more expensive each night!

The room itself was spacious. A double bed, fridge, dvd player, television, security box, air conditioning, front decking with table and chairs, and a partially external bathroom. While the bathroom had four walls and a roof there was a gap, around 15 inches, at the top of the wall acting as ventilation for the area. This also ensured that the bathroom was twice as hot as the air conditioned sleeping quarters, and played havoc with you getting out of the shower!

The three days at the resort were spent relaxing by the infinity pool, watching the boats and fishermen wading in the surf, drinking lime soda and topping up the tan. The nights were spent in the restaurant, watching dvd's in the room, and of course at the full moon party. A taxi ride from the resort to the other side of the island cost us 200 Baht each and took about 15 minutes, but was more than worth it considering the luxurious aura of the resort, and the price of the room. You'd be pushed to find similar accommodation for double that on the other side of the island. Coming from outside of the Haad Rin area, we also had to pay a 100 Baht entry fee for the party which pays for the morning after clean-up operation and the manning of the beach by police and private security.

When we finally made it through the dozens of arriving taxi's and bucket-sellers (drinks at the party were sold in plastic buckets, just to make sure you really enjoy yourself), we were met by thousands of already wasted partygoers, neon lights, UV paint stands and, synonymous with alcohol in Thailand; fire. Anyone talented (or drunk) enough was able to partake in a plethora of dangerous party games. Fire Poi, Fire Limbo, Fire Jump Rope, Fire breathing. You name it, you can get burnt doing it.

The atmosphere was... schizophrenic. Pounding drum and bass soundsystems were placed next to Rock music speakers, which in turn were next to cheesy 90's dance music. Independent on where you stood, the mishmash of high hats and snares was guaranteed to be completely out of time and enough to make you think that you need another bucket of SangSom and Coke. As the night went on, more and more boats arrived on the shores of the beach bringing more and more ravers destined to end their night covered in UV paint and spilt SangSom. The party itself continues well into daybreak, with many people going back to their hostels for a few hours sleep and returning to see it through til the last songs just before lunchtime. Cass and i however, were happy with seeing it through until about 3a.m. before we returned to our room.

Leaving Ko Pha Ngan meant two things; that our Thailand trip was entering the third and final phase, and that we had a long day of traveling ahead of us. This time, opting for the slightly faster Lomprayah Catamaran as opposed to the ferry, we left Ko Pha Ngan for Chumphon. The journey was noticably quicker to Bangkok than from Bangkok, trimming a further hour or so off of our journey; mainly because of the efficiency of Loprayah's large scale operations. Leaving at 9a.m., we arrived in Bangkok almost dead on 8p.m. A cheap and cheerful microwave meal from Tesco and a pre-booked night's stay in old faithful Lub D assured a good nights sleep before our flight to Chiang Mai the following day.

Nothing highlights the cultural and financial differences of Thailand better than the advertisements and articles of an in-flight magazine. One one page, spacious top-end condominiums are advertised for anyone looking to invest in Thailand's islands booming residential industry while the opposing page shows a poor local coconut farmer with a description on his long hours, low pay and poor health. Turn the page and Thailand's top Boutique resorts cleave their way through stories of street vendors and tradition. Though it seems the boom is not solely restricted to the Thai borders - Seam Reap in Cambodia, primarily used as a stay for visitors to the temples of Angkor Wat, now boasts two high end shopping malls in magazine adverts aimed at western travellers. It makes you question what next stop on the Banana pancake trail will supernova, crushing its unique identity under the enormous strain of its own popularity.

Our arrival in Chiang Mai wasn't any more eventful than any other airport arrivals lounge. The only difference was the highly anticipated reunion of Cassie and her brother, Dan. I'll admit that it was reassuring to see a familiar face after several weeks away. After a quick introduction and some negotiations in Thai with a taxi driver, we were driven to Dan's house in a large residential complex just northeast of Chiang Mai centre. This is where home will be until we depart for Australia. And what a home it is! 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and an en suite, kitchen, dining room, living room, and a reception area, with a large gated drive and garden. Oh, and a 3 month old Boxer puppy, too! As of yet, it hasn't been named so suggestions are welcome. I'm pushing for Karma, but Qi and Chakra are both strong contenders, as is No Name!

Well i managed to write a fair bit about nothing so that should keep the masses content until the next chapter. I'll attempt to get one last update in from Chiang Mai before Australia while the internet connection is free and private! Bye for now!

Old man on the front porch.

Never travel on May day! When we arrived at Hua Lamphong train station in Bangkok for our train ride to Champhon, we expected a little bit of a crowd as it is one of the cheapest ways to travel the country – second only to buses. We didn’t expect the masses that spilled out of the main gates and onto the streets outside, though. It seemed that all manners of people were waiting for their iron stagecoach. Buddhist monks waited in small groups, iPods and mobile phones glued to their faces. Families with bags and bags of luggage waited for their transport for their weekend holiday. Lone businessmen sat in solitude counting down the hours until they return to their families for the holiday. The whole station was a hive of inactivity.

I did ponder whether or not we should have booked our tickets in advance!

When we were escorted to the information office, we were advised that though there were still 18 seats remaining on the train, none were together. One solitary seat was available in second class, while the remaining 17 were all first class upper and lower berths. On a shorter journey, this wouldn’t have been an issue but neither of us embraced the prospect of 12 hours travel in different carriages, surrounded by strangers, with only our bags for companionship. We therefore made the decision of travelling by bus instead. It cost us the same to travel in first class on a private bus, including our ferry transfer from Champhon to Ko Tao, as it would have to travel by train to Champhon alone. The cheaper option, surprisingly enough, is also the fasted – knocking almost 4 hours off of the total travel time.

The bus journey itself was trying at times. In-flight (well, drive) entertainment was provided but was more suited for anyone suffering from ADHD. We managed to watch Hitman in its entirety, followed by fifteen minutes of Balls Of Fury, the first half of The Matrix and about 45 minutes of one of the worst films I’ve ever been forced to sit through; Anacondas: The Hunt For The Blod Orchid. The acting still gives me shivers. Travelling by night meant that admiring the views was not an option. All I could do was sit back, relax and attempt to catch some sleep.

Just as I was reaching the land of nod, the bus pulled over. All the lights came on and we were hastily ushered off of the bus into a crude truck stop by the side of the road. The bus itself was heading on to a further destination, while any passengers travelling to Ko Tao were loaded onto a second bus with all of their luggage. Well, almost all of their luggage. One poor guy who was rudely awoken from his sleep when the bus stopped had managed to grab his bag, but in the crude light of 2a.m. and the semi-delirious state of consciousness had forgotten two huge ornamental war masks that he’d acquired in Indonesia. They most certainly wont be seen again – by him, at least.

It may be the cynic in me, but with the extremely brief notification of the stop and the quick exit (20+ passengers and their bags were unloaded in under 5 minutes), it is almost as if the operators plan for tired and weary travellers to leave something behind. Some days it may be an Indonesian war mask, other days it may be something of a lot more value. Our second bus ride was a very brief one. We were taken from the side of the road to a small travel office to pick up any other travellers heading to Champhon docks. After an hour or so’s wait here, and a fully loaded coach we headed to the port.

Chumphon itself is a relatively small town. Its income is almost solely dependent on fishing, supplemented only by the commuters between the north of the country and the islands. This became rather apparent at the dockside. Rows upon rows of fishing vessels ranging in size, shape and age lined the sides of the makeshift harbour, while the smell of the nights catch filled the air. Again, we had another small wait – this time for the ferry. The sun had risen high into the sky by the time we departed for the islands. Having done a similar journey to this before (from Surit Thani to Ko Samui), I knew what to expect. I laid back, closed my eyes, and prayed for sleep. It never came.

We eventually reached Ko Tao’s beachside pier at just after 10a.m., which meant we’d been travelling for over 15 hours since leaving Bangkok. Add to that the fact that both Cass and I were each carrying 65L+ bags, and that equals two very tired travellers. Upon leaving Mae Haad pier, we headed straight to some accommodation that we’d seen previously on the net, which at £6 a night was cheap enough. A place called Utopia Resort. In Ko Tao, most places now offer two sorts of accommodation. Air-conditioned bungalows or apartments for families and holiday-makers ranging between £12 and £60, or low-cost budget rooms for travellers. We opted for the latter. While they were basic, they were clean. The room consisted of a double bed (well, two single beds pushed together), a fan, and a bathroom. Complete with a flushing toilet – a rarity on this beach island.

After dumping the bags, showering and sleeping until the afternoon we headed off for a look around the island. Though Ko Tao is only 21 km², the landscape can make if very difficult to navigate on foot. At its highest point, the hills breach over 370m. The only true way to explore the island without snorkelling round it is by moped. These can be hired all over the island, and at £2 a day (and 2/3rds of that again to fill the tank with petrol), there is no financial reason not to. A small ride soon revealed two things to us. Firstly, how isolated from the rest of the islands activity we were and secondly, how developed the island had become since our last visit just two years ago. Dirt tracks had become concrete roads, beach huts had become resort apartments, collections of shops had become small towns.

The irony of it all - as the island becomes more and more popular, the less of the original islands attraction remains. The crystal blue waters of Sairee beach have just a remnant of their original beauty as swarms of dive boats line the shore, and the tranquil beach huts that hem the coastline are now just the first line of hundreds of identical huts offering a cheap nights stay for the intrepid diver.

Despite all this, you get the feeling that without staying so close to Sairee, the backbone of Ko Tao, you’re missing out on what makes it tick. So after our first nights stay, we checked out of our room and headed to Seashell Dive Resort. Located towards the north of Sairee (the first Thoracic, if you will) it is one of the original resorts on the island, which makes it one of the cheapest, and most spacious. Our chalet offered all the same amneties as our room at Utopia, as well as a front porch area, a cooling sea breeze (a necessity in 35°c heat), and our own wildlife. We’re regularly visited by geckos and birds, and even had a stray dog asleep on our porch one night! Stray dogs are, or were a large problem on the island. People bring them across to start a new home on the island but after a season, or when their visa expires, they leave them behind and head off. The strays then breed, adding to more feral animals. Fortunately the island is very aware of any problems it may face in the future. Charities regularly arrange beach clean-ups to rid the coastline of rubbish, and funds are also raised for the de-sexing and vaccinating of homeless animals to reduce breeding and disease in the stray population without resorting to a mass culling.

On the beach today, another stray dog joined Cass and me – though it was incredibly tame. At first I was cautious of the animal, not knowing what diseases it may carry, but after watching a couple of locals petting it and playing fetch with balls of sand I grew more at ease. I was soon chasing small fish up and down the coastline with it, paddling out into the sea with the dog following me, and throwing balls of wet sand for it to chase. When I returned to my beach towel, it followed me and laid at the foot of my towel as if we’d been acquainted for years! For a dog without an owner, I’d never seen a tail wag so much. It got me thinking of the rest of the islands inhabitants, too. Years ago, the island was used as a prison. People were put here in solitude for their crimes. These days, the reasons for coming here may be very different but the majority of people who do live here, do it on their own. Much like the stray dogs on the island, they’re alone with everyone.

Hopefully, time permitting, i'll be able to update again in the next couple of days but if not, then the next time you hear from me will be from Chiang Mai in northern Thailand. Assuming of course, our journey is eventless!