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Published: February 13th 2007
Shiny happy person
Wat Phra That Doi SuthepChiang Mai sits in the north of Thailand, the country's second city and second most popular blogging location, though it has a very different feel to Bangkok. Hilltribe trekking and handicrafts are what bring many tourists here, but it's also a much easier city than Bangkok to relax in, not least because the climate is rather fresher.
The old city is a 2x2km square surrounded by a moat, though the current city limits are somewhat further out. The eastern end of Ratchavithi St inside the old city is the equivalent of Bangkok's Khao San Rd, with Loi Khro Rd doing a passable imitation of Patpong. Sprawling markets offer every kind of local produce from hilltribe costumes to fried insects to North Face knock-offs to the ubiquitous wooden "frogs" that make a supposedly ranine sound when you run a stick over their ridged back.
Of course the place is awash with temples, the main one being Wat Phra Singh near the west gate, which bursts with all the colour and radiance I'm coming to expect here. A little further east lie the hulking remains of Wat Chedi Luang, former home of the Emerald Buddha but wrecked by an earthquake over
Colours
Wat Phra Singh 400 years ago. Though the brick chedi hasn't been rebuilt, its size is still impressive.
I also made the obligatory trip up Doi Suthep to see Wat Phra That, the holiest shrine outside of Bangkok. Apparently a wandering white elephant bearing a sacred relic decided that Doi Suthep was the appropriate resting place for the relic, and promptly died at the spot where the temple was then constructed. The complex is again a riot of gold, wood-carving, mirrored tiles, Buddhas, bells, and tourists, sitting at the top of a frankly unnecessary 306 step staircase. In the absence of haze, there would be a great view over Chiang Mai from here.
I met up again with Anja on the final night of the annual Chiang Mai flower festival. A truly enormous market filled many of the streets in the southeastern part of the old city, and we tried out food from a selection of stalls along our meandering route, discovering some alcopop-like flavoured rice wine as well as some suspiciously gyoza-esque morsels that the stall-owner insisted had their roots in Thailand. A parade had taken place a couple of days earlier as part of the flower festival, and the
floats - the results of what must have been hundreds of hours of painstaking work - were parked along one street.
With it being Anja's last night in Thailand, a visit to one of the many Westerner-oriented bars just wasn't going to cut it so we jumped into a tuk-tuk and requested a Thai bar with no foreigners. We subsequently had to specify that we wanted no "ladies" either, a request which seemed to have been ignored when, 10 minutes later, we arrived in a street which was lined on one side with karaoke bars. Outside of each bar sat a group of bored-looking women fully made-up and in their glad rags. When they saw us, they started smiling and waving, while simultaneously touching up their hair, adjusting their push-up bras, etc. Perhaps they were backing singers.
On the other side of the street, however, were several bars. From behind the closed doors of one, guarded by a non-threatening bouncer, came the sound of loud music so we ventured in. The dark and deafening interior housed a small stage, from which a band was cranking out low tempo guitar rock - not the sort of tunes likely to
get a Western audience up and moving, but apparently satisfactory here. The floor was filled with wooden tables and benches, peopled by maybe 200 Thais and about 4 foreigners (including us). Some beer was purchased and we took a table near the back.
It didn't take long before the foursome of students at a neighbouring table noticed us and, after some fruitless attempts at interaction (they may well have spoken some English but with Thai AOR echoing around us at 110 decibels it was hard to tell), we clinked glasses with them at regular intervals. Another group then took up the responsibility of being welcoming hosts and started plying us with whisky (which I think is the best value-for-money alcohol here) as well as a plate of some egg and green vegetables concoction which was the last thing I needed.
I got an unexpected massage in the men's toilet. While standing at the urinal minding, and doing, my own business, I suddenly felt hands on my shoulders. My back was then kneaded, and when I stepped away my neck was given a crack for good measure. I couldn't really see the need for a massage in a toilet,
a place usually visited briefly and with as little interaction with the other users as possible, but I guess this is the mysterious east.
Not being much of a spirits drinker, I was soon on a downward slope and was glad when we decided to call it a night at about 12:30AM. Even making it out of the door proved difficult, as Anja was waylaid by a woman who insisted on dancing with her for 10 minutes. Friendly people.
The following day I felt grim, and wandered between my guesthouse, a cafe, and various Internet places like a lost soul. I'd also developed a stomach upset that, as I write this 5 days later, still hasn't gone away.
Chiang Mai was beginning to depress me by this point, with such a high frequency of English accents being heard that I was in danger of forgetting I was in Thailand, so it was time to head for the hills.
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