Off the Grid Travelog -Sukothai to Chiang Mai

November 27-December 8, 2002
Sukothai to Chiang Mai

Thank God for the rain! Otherwise, Koh Tao's siren whispers would have been too compelling to ignore and we would have spent our entire trip sprawled on its beaches and plumbing its waters. As soon as there was a break in the monsoon, we hopped on a boat back to the mainland. We topped off a five-hour boat ride with the first of many mini-bus adventures to come. The drivers pack in as many bodies as possible (usually eight to ten) and careen down the "highways" like madmen. On two lane roads, they like to pass on blind curves, playing a gentlemanly game of chicken with oncoming mini-buses. The ride to Bangkok was particularly special, as Tomas and I were sitting in the very back, enduring jolts that sent us half way to the ceiling every two seconds. To top it off, we blew out a tire at sunset (mosquito feasting time) right next to a bog. As the sun deserted us, trucks flew dangerously close by, flashing their lights and honking their horns. The trip took eight hours (instead of six), coming to a close in Bangkok at one in the morning. We tumbled into our first soft bed in a month and thanked the heavens that we survived.

Two days later, we hopped on the train and headed north in search of the historic heartland of Thailand: Sukothai. After Bangkok, Sukothai seemed more like a village than a town. In truth, there are two towns, Old Sukothai, where the temple ruins lay, and New Sukothai, where guesthouses and mini-marts dot the muddy banks of the Yom River.

We rented bikes and cruised the ruins in Old Sukothai on newly tarred roads, trying to find shade from the hot sun wherever possible. Some of the old stone monuments sat in the center of carefully manicured lawns and islands surrounded by ponds full of water lilies. Others simply rose out of the earth like the weeds around them. Unfortunately, the government is meddling with the artists' original intent; it has begun adding red brick to the crumbling blackened stones, making the monuments taller, but not as awe-inspiring.

However, at the end of one long, dusty lane, we found a fourteenth century Buddha at Wat Sri Chum so powerful in its presence that the air around it seemed to vibrate. Over fifteen meters high, it sat serenely with one hand resting palm-up in its lap and the other draped over its knee. Standing at its feet, feeling the Buddha's energy embrace us, we watched a leaf dance on the wind, flying higher and higher until the sun claimed it.

Rejuvenated by Buddha, we left Sukothai for Chiang Mai, the city in Northern Thailand renowned for its textiles. Our guesthouse was perfectly located, just inside Tapae Gate in the old city, a square area carved out by a moat and old brick walls. Hungry for reminders of home, we saw several movies over the next week in a surprisingly good theater with stadium seating and Dolby Digital sound. We also found a German restaurant-Bierstube-down the road from our guesthouse that had the best Thai food we ate in Chiang Mai, with the exception of delectable twenty cent Phat Thai and green curry we discovered at a special night market.

Our guidebook claimed that the School of the Blind in Chiang Mai offered the best Thai massage in Thailand, so we trekked to the other side of the city, where Tomas proceeded to get himself beaten to a pulp. His tormentor? The five-feet-tall, pageboy-hair-stuck-with-a-bobby-pin, face-like-a-wrinkled-apple, blind masseuse extraordinaire: Lek. Wearing a white polyester shirt covered in blue and purple orchids, shuffling around the room using her hands as her eyes, Lek hardly seemed capable of reducing my husband to tears. Behind her thin lips, one yellow tooth jutted out of place like a child stepping out of line. Her wrinkled cheeks rounded as she laughed in glee when Tomas cried out in pain. "You distract her, I'll make a break for it!" he mouthed in agony. I watched her stick her elbow between the muscle and bone of his quadriceps and lean all of her weight upon it. I watched her pummel, knead, and pluck his leg ligaments as if they were strings on a fiddle. I watched her twist his body until he looked at me beseechingly and cried, "If I don't make it out of here, know that I love you!"

The entire time she tortured him, Lek chattered to us in Thai, stopping occasionally to ask us again and again, "You speak Thai?" When my masseuse wasn't tormenting me to Lek's satisfaction (I guess my lack of yelping tipped her off), Lek pushed her aside and started to dig into me. Thankfully, my time was almost up and I escaped with just a few bruises. Tomas, on the other hand, practically crawled back to the guesthouse. Should Tomas ever have the misfortune to meet him, the Devil would surely channel Lek's mocking, "Hee! Hee! Hee!"

Once recovered from the Lek-encounter, we decided to explore the countryside around Chiang Mai. Without our passports (they were in Bangkok, where we left them to get our Laos, China, and Vietnam visas), our rental options were limited. Thankfully, Mr. Beer kindly lent us a Honda Phantom motorcycle for 750 Baht a day. The fat, Harley-like bike looked much badder than it was (only a 250cc), but served us well as we navigated a long loop around Chiang Mai with helmets sporting, "BEER" in large, white type.

We climbed our first mountain and entered the thick of the forest, leaving the heat of Chiang Mai behind. Our first stop was King Adulyadej Bhumibol's winter home, Puhping Palace, a rather under whelming place with manicured gardens and modern Thai architecture. Then we went to Doi Suthep, a temple at the end of hundreds of steep steps flanked by sinuous dragons that offered us a view of the entire Chiang Mai Valley.

With the tourist sights out of way, we hit the open road, a superhighway to Mai Rim, and then took 1096 east to the Mae Sae Valley. As we puttered along gorgeous wooded countryside, enjoying the wind in our faces, we spotted a sign for Tam Mork waterfall and decided to check it out. After all, it was only nine kilometers off of the main road. Little did we know that every kilometer would be hard earned as we dodged potholes, dogs, and boulders in the rapidly declining lane. Even so, our detour provided us with spectacular vistas of valleys crisscrossed with rice patties, banana tree groves, and fields groomed with neat rows of vegetables. We passed a mysterious botanical garden not on the map that was immaculately manicured and fit for a queen.

We finally reached the park gate, where the "ranger" extorted 450 Baht as an entrance fee (about twice as much as we typically spent on dinner). The waterfalls were nice, but not THAT nice. By the time we got back to the main road, it was past four o'clock and we had not yet eaten lunch, so I was famished. We discovered Pong Yang Resort tucked away in the hillside and stopped for a bite. Perched above a lush river bed, the deck of the restaurant at Pong Yang opened to beautiful views, including a fantastic waterfall about seventy meters away and far superior to the one we'd just seen. We very quickly realized that the resort catered to wealthy Thais, as we were the only westerners in the place. The delicious food confirmed our impression: it was so spicy that it gave Tomas hiccups!

It was getting late and we were hardly half way through the loop we were told would take us four hours. Speeding along the winding roads, we arrived at the pinnacle of Samoeng Forest at sunset. Densely forested mountains spread out before us, layer upon layer, as far as we could see. Wearing only thin cotton shirts and a layer of mosquitoes plastered to our faces and wedged between our teeth, we raced against the encroaching night. Soon, the hills around us flattened into black silhouettes against the darkening sky and the moon, like a shallow silver bowl, hung in the sloping valley between them. For over an hour, Tomas navigated lightless roads that snaked between the mountains until we finally reached the Chiang Mai valley.

Despite the harrowing end to our day, the beauty of the countryside encouraged us to leave Chiang Mai behind. Within a few days, we were on our way to the lovely Pai valley and the most beautiful countryside I've ever seen.

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