Nan's little treasures

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I should have taken big bag off. And why am i wearing two tops? Standing in Chiang Rai bus ticket office, to hopefully get on the day's sole run to Nan, I'm sweltering under shade in humid, cackling May. Calves dripped upon, I dab my brow and upper lip - pointless! A friendly smile, in full length jeans, from the waiting room seats. I motion jokily to my heat handling powers, just chilling here..
Back outside, waiting passengers lean on boxes and piled bags, text, sip fruit juices. The bus drivers and station runners can be picked out with their pale blue shirts and quick, knowing gestures to usher buses in, check tickets, load up trunks. A blue stream of activity.

A white bus rolls over, 'Chiang Rai to Nan' - the leaners swing up, the texters slide gadgets into pockets, the sippers finish the last and flick plastic into buckets.
Our bus driver is in pale shirt and a traditional northern woven hat. He ucks and ayys at the size of my bag versus the bus's 'nip around car' boot size.. He frustratedly flicks his hand in an upside down wave at me - 'get on, I'll deal with this'.
I'm on. Seat 11 on my ticket, i look down the aisle, and there's friendly face in seat 12. Nhuan is a student at the university in Nan, and as I discover at a stop 5 hours away, many on the bus are. During the bus ride we'd both doze off, the small air slits above our heads giving us little escape from the heat. We'd both grin and chuckle when one of us jerked awake again. It was a sleepy, hot ride of rewinded podcasts, swaying head and hot seat. Indeed on the ticket inspection, I'd hide my ticket in my palm to show only the driver and Nhuan next to me - an ineligible soggy paper piece! I took the laughs. Above the driver, on the bus's glass forehead were tacked up pictures of Monks, the fading magazine pages of forward facing, saffron-clad mascots. Other magazine pages laid up showed Buddha trinkets, antique pin-ups.

Nan. Here I am. I decide to walk into the town and to a side street where a couple of nice quiet guesthouses seem to be. Sudrit arts gallery, set back in a trinketed, tropical garden, is where I'd stay. It is a beautiful place. Walls, tables, fabrics, all as canvases. Exhibition rooms and hammocks, incense and piano, jazz waves always tickling through the space.
I was the only guest in my three day stay, but their breakfasts drew in small crowds. Whilst the thai iced coffee I ordered was made and presented in a most hipster way - dripped through an off centred shelf into glass jar, and presented on wood side board with elaborate spoon and milk jug set. It deserved taking time, as the music swooned and fans circled, as the fish eased around in glass bowls by paintbrush holders. I read up on the area some more.

The artist couple who helped run sudrit had recommended me to Saturday's walking street, and it was a wonderful way to spend my first afternoon-evening, about the grounds of Wat Phumin. It is a stunning temple, and indeed area with towering palm trees, rich green grass and white wall surrounds. Inside, centuries old murals dazzle on its interior walls. These famous pictures are now replicated across the city. Swirling, elegant and mischievous figures of the ancient Lanna kingdom courts and of ordinary town lives played out; of Buddha too, in a completely different depiction then I'd seen before. I'd be taking photos, then see monks beside me also capturing one of Nan's fine temples. Wat Ming Muang would also be very worth a stroll and close look - a radically different style just down the road. I wondered if the creator of Chiang Rai's famous White Temple had ever seen this complex.

But back to this afternoon, and as part of walking street, the Wat Phumin grounds were patterned with roll mats and small bamboo tables that were slowly being greeted by families, young couples and teenage friends, with teasing bags of food from the market stalls.
And it was some market! Treats, different treats, at each stall, each seemingly run by a smiling face, busy hands. Seafood skewers, fruit shakes, northern sausages, huge pots of vibrant curry, nuts and berries of all kinds, jelly deserts, huge pancakes being rolled in a ready line up, cute banana leaf bowls of fried critters, pizza.. And, I knew what I was looking for - sticky rice, a hot sauce, a salad bag, a spicy northern sausage - and I also grabbed little fluffy egg and herb crepes back to a table. Sandals and bag left to one side, a content sigh before starting my dinner. It was a lovely community atmosphere.

Through the market were small pockets where people sang, guitar accompanied..soft, acoustic music, and a corner of traditional folk instruments, the players in the wonderful northern fold over tops. In the eating square, there'd be more music on a stage throughout the night. I'd later retreat, as tables became fewer, and sat on a wall to watch, under a tree of falling blossom, and enjoy the music.. I wandered back through to buy some little gifts at the further on stalls of rich fabrics, cute handmade bits and topman esque shirts. Many people were friendly, kind, some asking if I could speak Thai, one mum encouraging her young daughter to show me her English - she slowly stopped hiding behind the clothes rack and we said hellos, buhbyes. A few policemen also on the outer walls chatted with me.

Infact, for such a small, seemingly quiet town there was quite a police presence. A provincial prison which I passed by the river took me back by its inviting surround - a waiting room with craft lights and hand made wooden benches, and on the Monday it must have been visiting day where crowds awaited with drinks and children playing around. Whilst there were big police stations and buildings dotted about; posters of policemen, shaded, eyebros raised and straddling big motorbikes; posters highlighting human trafficking and corruption; and I saw one sign to Nan Forensic Police... Maybe it was the border proximity (after all, local buses in the north tended to be stopped and looked through at army checkpoints, and a few days before two were made to leave the bus from Mae Hong Son), or maybe it was just the province's chosen police hub.

At the market the next day (well there were many other things to try, beyond my faves) a group of students asked to record me in an interview, of course I said, and they asked me my thoughts on Thailand (the vibrancy..the nature.. the people.. I spoke about), and what food I liked (see above!) Later at the market, young kids would break dance for the crowds in flashing trainers, then bop about with a tip box.. a teenage girl sang with a lovely voice beside a boy besotted in his guitar role, I felt like I'd heard the songs before. Traditional dances were performed; slow, mischievous, yet elegant moves with alternately turning arms and wrists - bringing to life the mural figures in the temple metres, but hundreds of years, away. Proud dads with toddlers; sneaking off kids eating on swings, under trees or in groups with iPads; older women joshing - one passes on a motorbike and jokes about her friend's hat at her market stall, they were both laughing away.
The heat was intense, hitting 40 degrees by day and even under the moon with sticky rice, I'd be sweating!

Later on at Sudrit that first day I'd meet quite the kid.. his grandma, babysitting, was now relaxing and he wanted to play. I was sat reading, when a little Iron Man shield rolled over to me, 'you..', a little voice said. And the fun started! Marvel Lego battles, taking down and rebuilding superheroes for sequels, then off he'd run and return swishing his home made light saber. My Darth Vader and deep, 'scary' voices went down well. We'd later try and make a batman light. Markers, scissors, torches, new ideas, and though we couldn't quite get the famous sign to pow out into the room, the optimistic light switch offs and torch switch ons were fun. A very cool, sweet kid. It was a relaxed, incredibly friendly place to stay. Whilst there were machines to do my laundry down the road, a water osmosis machine round the corner, art in the room I stayed in and all about; easy and lovely.

The days were spent wandering around, sitting in parks (with swings!), to the river.. I'd see an antique stall meeting one afternoon with old men inspecting a myriad of objects with their observation tools; a dented magnifying glass and chinese porcelain pipe caught my eye. And there were hundreds of small buddha trinkets.
I'd visit the well preserved, quiet temples and the art and craft workshops dotted about. One of the shop keepers would tell me enthusiastically about Myanmar and a temple alike Wat Phumin, 'You will go, yes?!' - I'd really like to.
Then, I had an idea of mine, well used before, to find out if/where there was a fancy hotel with a pool. Aha!..
Spot located, I went to investigate. Through a cream and gold hotel lobby, and up to an outdoor pool level I stepped - and yup, brilliant, I can certainly do lengths here. There were some kids splashing about, mums watching on with magazines at the side. Okay, I'll come back this afternoon for a quiet swim. And I did go there later, imagining a good swim then a pool side read.. however, I walked up to a scene of wonderful chaos! Full of kids, rubber rings, goggled faces emerging after breath holding contests, holiday vibes. It was good way to bow out of the plan, the pool was won by those deserving.

Nan is a delight. Art, modesty, calmness and warmth. A family town too.

I had been a little aware that I'd not seen another westerner here, partly with it being off season, and at this I had felt like I didn't want to intrude as such. Though being in a quiet, honest, more locally serving town was really settling and enjoyable. Whilst some of its country and river lanes, when focused on the fore and not the tropical greens and hills beyond, actually reminded me of Kent village clusters. Strange, a projection of me returning soon? I also knew that Nan had definitely created a tourism scene with town bus tour, articles in many magazines, in making the tourism authority's 2015/16 go see list, with new signage and attraction marking. Unfortunately the Nan national museum, which I'd read was a very good one, was being refurbished. Nan as a destination was, i think, more set up more for Thai tourists, drawing those interested in Lanna tradition. And i'd wished I known more Thai language whilst here, to communicate better and give more to those I talked with. I went through my few phrase notebook pages one park sitting, knowing it had been pretty easy for me to be language lazy in other parts of Thailand. I hope to learn from this for next times.

On the Monday, my last full day here and indeed in the North, I grabbed a motorbike and headed out for an adventure. It was great to get back on a whizzing hot seat. It still surprises me a little at how comfortable I immediately feel on these scooters. Into the shop, license given, helmet received, and off you joyfully go.
Wearing one of the long, white linen tops that I'd worn for the monastery and with my black bandana tied about my neck (to keep the sun at bay), I drove up the 101 road. At this I wondered if I looked like a religious missionary with a modern twist, or someone attempting to pull off a 19th century French artist look! Karsts, rich hills, burning sun, long free roads.. It was a wonderful ride. I headed up to a village where there was said to be a good riverside art gallery. It was fantastic. Huge rooms of pieces covering so many styles, focussed on artists from Nan and Chiang Rai. One I particularly liked was Winai Prabripoo - he created such varied styles across his work, some of his pictures are below. I liked the clever takes on the famous murals, and his swishing colour landscapes (the type that can give more in a glimpse than a long look). It was a lovely stop, and easy to take my time. The photo exhibition was also very good, across the region's historical murals it picked out, scaled and framed different parts.



I then continued on a ride north to a small town called Pua, not for any reason other than a scenic ride! An obligatory coffee stop. Back in Nan later in the afternoon, I rode up the bending hill roads to its That Khao Non temple, with the golden Buddha standing and famously looking out. Here young monks walked up its vast steps, and some local teens came and said hi, drinking fizzy drinks and perhaps waiting for the sun to come down. It is a famous sight in the region, and beside or behind Buddha you see as he may - hills shadowing on the fading sky, green patches stretching, streets looked along in a bird sweep view. The next morning I took off along the river, its winding country roads to reach a golden chedi I'd spotted from the day before's high spot and to get a nice breeze after breakfast!



Its now off to the south, to hopefully find a calm, modest, warm beach spot. A few ask arounds at the bus station, a think, a read up, a weather check and i sussed a next route - Nan-Den Chai by bus, night train to Bangkok, night train to Surit Thani - and a morning boat to Ko Samui! I'd be there in less than 2 days time. Exciting.

How genuinely lucky I am. Nan has left a very special mark on my trip.

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