Laos Part 1b - Chaing Mai old city temples

One more left day in Chaing Mai (well, for this trip), so much to do. I was grateful for the early night last night to be up so early. I had arranged with the hotel staff to take part in the morning alms offerings, or tak bart, with the hotel staff. Almost next door to Ping Nakara was a local temple, Wat Chaimongkol. Every morning before dawn, like in almost every Thai town and many parts of south-east Asia where Buddhism is practised, monks wonder the streets of the local town to collect alms (food offerings). The collected food becomes their main meal of the day. It is a Buddhist tradition that dates back to the times of the Buddha. Unlike begging, monks just walk, mindfully, without any expectations, present themselves at doorways or householders’ gates asking nothing, and then move along. If an offering is made, a prayer or blessing is offered in return. It is also an opportunity for lay people (i.e. non-ordained practitioners) to ‘make merit’ or good karma.

Standing in the pre dawn darkness, I could hear the city waking up. Already, a number of motor bikes cruised the black streets, many laden with fresh produce for the markets, or from the markets. Some with whole families crammed on, getting ready for their day of work and school. Here I was, a foreigner, straight out of a luxurious, latex bed, unlike those locals around me that had probably already been up for hours, slept on a 2-inch thick foam mattress laid on the ground, now taking part of a tradition that dates back to a time before Christ.

Now a little off topic, I truly don’t believe in foreigners taking part in tak bart unless they have sincere motivation. That, to me, means in some understanding of Buddhism and the three refuges in the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. Or at least an understanding in cause and effect – which is the law of karma. It’s not about the action, to some extent, but the motivation behind the action that speaks volumes.

In the morning cool, three saffron clad monks appeared from the pre-dawn gloom. The hotel receptionist tried to explain how to make the offerings in the local tradition, and I followed along, keeping in mind the refuge prayers of my own temple. Placing the little plastic bags of food in the large brass bowls, along with bottles of water and fresh fruit, I tried to imagine that this food would benefit all hungry beings. Once we had placed all the food in the monks’ bowls, all three folded their hands together and chanted a blessing prayer. And within seconds, they were gone. Making a prayer of dedication with the hotel staff, I poured the water that the monks blessed into the hotel grounds’ gardens, and went back to my room. It was now just before 6am.

No time to waste, I was ready. A quick (and sumptuous) shower after a simple breakfast beside the pool, I was ready to explore to city by foot. As usual, I had a large number of places I hoped to see. The night before, I’d plotted a vague itinerary using a map I’d picked up and the notes I’d made from TripAdvisor.com. Given that I had only two days, in what may be my favourite city in SE Asia, I didn’t want to waste it sleeping.

First area to explore was the Ping River, so recently swollen and overflowing into the streets of Chiang Mai. During my last trip, I didn’t even see the Ping, so an early morning stroll along its well made paths was in order. There are many bridges over the river. The sun was still low and less punishing this early in the morning. Even so, walking in its direct light still brought a slow roasting.

After walking the wrong way for a little ways along the river (luckily, on the more shady side), I finally came to Wat Gate Karam. A beautiful temple. It roof has five gables, which is unusual. Most Thai temples have three. Another ancient, white washed, chedi stood sentinel to one side, with small golden Buddhas marking the four directions of the winds. Ornate nagas guarded its entrance. And, go figure, with all the wonderful gold-leaf paintings and statues, the one item that most impressed me inside the little the temple was a large, free-standing, grandfather clock, with ornate mother-of-pearl inlay, ticking away. Something quite unexpected.

I explored some of the side streets and shops in the area before crossing back across the river to the Wororot market area. It was bustling with activity. Beside the river, there was a small row of open-air restaurants, each with a table and a few chairs for eaters to sit. Street food vendors wondered the narrow lanes, wheeling their carts, honking their horns and calling to stall holders and shoppers alike. We walked across the pedestrian overpass to cross the busy road, busy with bikes, trucks, cars and song-thaews. Rows and rows of stalls selling brightly coloured fresh fruit and vegetables lined the main road and narrow streets. We walked around, content exploring the maze of shops. There was a small ‘mall’ area with more stalls with more food, spices and dry goods of all descriptions. I wasn’t brave enough to go through the butcher and fishmonger area (being vegetarian, the smell of meat really doesn’t agree with me). The herbs and spices smelled so fresh and fragrant. I would have bought up big, bit this was day 2 of a few week journey and I had a lot of suitcase lugging ahead of me. It took a lot of self control to not buy too much, promising myself I’d have more opportunity in Laos and Kuala Lumpur later.

From the markets, we navigated through some narrow alleys and lanes, to meet up with Thapae Road which leads to the old city. Coming out of the maze of streets, we were met with Wat Saen Fang. It’s a small Burmese style temple, set within a compact compound. I loved the wood carvings of the main entrance. Inside was dark and dusty. A few men were fixing the beams and re-painting the pillars, renovating the gorgeous little sanctuary. Sensing we really weren’t welcome, we quickly left and explored the grounds and gardens. Behind the temple is a large, white chedi decorated with hundreds of bright mirrored tiles. It was quite blinding in the late morning sun. To the side was another entrance guarded by two massive nagas whose serpentine bodies snaked the length of the narrow lane.

Almost across the road from the nagas was Wat Bap Pharam. It seemed quite new and decorated in a contemporary style. Out front, an engraved stone stated that it was built in 1496 on the site of King Tilokarat’s palace, and had a few renovations and additions over the years. (I researched King Tilokarat and turns out he brought the Lanna kingdom to the height of its power into a golden age, supporting many Buddhist works and construction, and he’s also considered one of the greatest of the Lanna kings.) The temple has two floors, downstairs is a bit of a dusty museum with upstairs heavily decorated with two large seated Buddhas. The highlight was the gardens – or should I say all the statues in the gardens. Along with traditional carvings, gold Buddhas and chedi were Disney and other cartoon characters, including a large Donald Duck eating a bowl of noodles (or maybe that delicious khao soi) standing right at the front of the main temple like a guardian. Most amusing.

The sun was high in the sky by now, and it was time for some sustenance in a cool place to rest and re-fuel. Across from Thapae gate of the old city we found the ‘Art Cafe’, with booths along the side and a few tables around the front. The painted signs on the window promised the best Mexican food in Chiang Mai. The lemon juice was so good I had two along with a very yummy toastie with avocado, tomato and cheese. It was clean, with friendly efficient staff. The menu was huge too. I definitely recommend it.

Crossing the road was hair-raising, dodging motor bikes and cars. You pretty much have to pick a gap in the traffic, which are few and far between, and cross as fast as you can. Crossing in front of bikes isn’t a problem, as they go around you. It’s the cars and mini vans you have to worry about. Safely across, we wondered around the moat under the trees before passing through the gates to the old city.

The vibe on the other side of the circa 1296 crumbling wall was lively, noisy and bustling. Dusty, busy streets, with lots of street vendors, tourists and tuk tuk drivers greeted us as we walked down one of the main roads. Every three steps, we were approached by touts offering guided tours of the city, temples and other sites. Lots of smaller cross streets had shops selling everything from wood carvings, silver works, groceries, fabrics, clothes, and even white goods. Many restaurants competed for business, each with a more tempting special than the last. You could spend days exploring all the shops and temples, and eating your way through all the eateries of the old city. I love it!

First stop was Wat Pan Tao, which is next to Wat Chedi Luang. We didn’t have a chance to see it during our tour with Paul, but I was keen to see it. It was built around the same time as Wat Chedi Luang. It’s a beautiful old teak temple with some old artefacts and a relatively simple alter. I loved that aged-wood smell mixed with the lingering scent of hundreds of years of incense smoke. Unlike many other temples, Wat Pan Tao wasn’t adorned by gold leaf paintings and patterns on every wall or pillar. It was quiet, dark, austere, and natural, and welcome refuge from the blazing sun. If it wasn’t so scorchingly hot in the sun, I would have taken more time to explore the temple grounds. Instead I ‘shade hopped’ between trees and buildings, finding every spec of shade.

The Three Kings Monument and Chiang Mai Art and Cultural Centre was a few hundred metres along Phrapokklao Road but the burning sun made the short walk feel like a mile. In the heat of the day, with the blistering sun directly overhead, a few hours wondering through the museum made sense. In fact the museum was very interesting with well kept exhibits. Much of the displays show the history of the city, from past to present, with models and exhibits of day to day life, and Buddhist traditions. We took our time exploring the large building. A very enjoyable way to learn more about this wonderful old city.

After a stop for a cold drink, the next stop was the impressive Wat Prah Sing. It is perhaps the largest temple in the old city, and the most finely decorated. There are a number of buildings and an old chedi in the grounds to wonder through. I particularly liked the smaller wihram to the rear of the grounds that housed a large reclining Buddha. I can’t be sure, but seems to be a miniature replica of the giant 100 metre long reclining Buddha housed at Wat Po in Bangkok. Inside the main temple, a group of western school children were sitting in a large group in the centre of the large prayer hall, one by one approaching a monk who was seated on a small platform, who then chanted a blessing as he tied a thick white string around their wrist.

I spent much time looking at all the paintings, items, and Buddha statues around the temple, taking a few photos, stopping for a quick meditation and prayer. Once the group had left, and the monk had a chance to have a break, I humbly walked up and took a place, kneeling at his feet. Holding up my left hand, I cleared my mind to receive the simple blessing "I wish you good health, long life and happiness".

Braving the dozen or so tuk tuk drivers congregated at the temple entrance, waiting to pounce on tourists as they left for a fare, we decided to walk south along Samlam road towards the ‘Silver’ temple. The sky had become overcast, whether from cloud or pollution or a combination of both, making it bearable. Along the way, we looked in on Wat Muan Ngerrn Kong, another ancient temple. It was down a small dusty alleyway leading to the simple wooden temple. The locals didn’t seem overly keen to have us tourists wander around, and the temple was not open to visitors. From what I’ve found out, it was built around 1337-1339. The old chedi at the rear looked like it may come down in the next big wind.

A quick stop at the 7-11 for another cold drink before we came to another of the historic city walls. Up until now, there was little traffic on the road – well at least compared to most of the other roads in the old city. At the Suanprung gate, three roads met to form a major intersection. A constant stream of cars, motorbikes and song-thaews made crossing a challenge. I looked around and saw a young monk crossing just over the way. We quickly rushed toward him to copy his path through the traffic. Even so, I thought for sure I was going to be clipped by minivan or truck.

Once we had successfully crossed the busy Chang Lor road, we passed the Chinese consulate before turning down a tiny side street. A little sign pointed the way to Wat Sri Suphan. Many simple houses lined the paved street, with lazy dogs dozing at the gate waiting for their owners to return. Inadvertently, I disturbed a rowdy little terrier who then yapped and barked like the sky was falling, initiating a choir of woofs and howls of all the local canines. A local man looked out, giving me a dirty look for causing such a commotion. “I didn’t mean it” I pleaded with an apologetic look.

The silver temple itself was a little hard to find. The main prayer hall was ornately decorated with gold leaf carvings and coloured glass beads. Inside, the walls were lined with framed plaques of silver, hand-made pictures depicting a famous Thai story. The beautiful alter had four main Buddhas, with smaller status on either sides. Every wall was covered with elaborate gold paintings and patterns. This is a truly stunning temple. Sitting at the entrance were two large seated Buddhas, one gold, the other silver. I’d never seen a silver Buddha like it anywhere.

To the side was the main ordination hall, which is what gives Wat Srisuphan its name of ‘Silver Temple’. It was totally covered in silver; every tile, every gable, the walls, window frames and stairs – all coated in shiny silver. Between the main temple and the silver ordination hall was something very unusual (we to me at least), a person-sized, silver Ganesh sitting under a silver parasol adorned with gold crown and garlands of marigolds. It was really striking.

We left the temple making our way to Wualai road. The neighbourhood around there is known as the silver village, due to its numerous silver shops. Down most side streets and lane ways were silversmith workshops, with the silversmiths manually banging out sheets of silver into plates, bowls and other items. It was amazing to watch them patiently work with a little hammer and nail-like implement to knock out the intricate designs. I zig-zagged my way down the road, crossing to look into each shop, sporadically spaced along each side of the road. As well as all the serving wear, there was a myriad of rings, earrings, necklaces and bracelets, many with coloured stones, others with elaborate patterns. Though I liked a few with indigo-blue lapis stones, they were all too small for my thick, western fingers. Not to mention the prices weren’t that cheap. In one of the small shops, I fell in love with a framed, glass enclosed, silver picture depicting the 12 signs of Chinese astrology. With my limited Thai, I tried to ask whether they had another unframed picture, or be willing to take it out of its frame. With three weeks traipsing through Laos ahead, I didn’t want to lug anything more than I had to. It was not to be.

From the silver village, we made our way back to the old city wall and the busy roads around it. We hoped in a song-thaew to take us back to the hotel. After a little confusion about where the hotel was, and a quick phone call placed by the driver to someone who could help, I was soon up the stairs, in my swimmers and diving in the stunning blue pool of Ping Nakara. With all the dirt and dust on my skin from the kilometres of walking, I’m sure a little water-cloud of black soot trailed behind me as I swam a few laps. The cold water felt fantastic after the hot day; just what I needed before my last night in Chiang Mai.

By the time I showered, it was dusk, and clearly beer o’clock. We wondered up to the night market area, deciding to eat where we had beers last night in the Ansuran market, mostly because they had cheap, cold, beer on tap. The food was pretty good too.

With hunger satisfied and thirst quenched, it was time to do a spot of shopping. I had cased out the things and stalls I wanted. Now to find them again. My list was pretty small; some lovely little notebooks for the girls at work, some cheap thongs (flip-flops), a Tibetan painting, and something small for my daughter. A quick lap of the stalls, and I had all the items on my list, plus a random pair of short fisherman’s pants. Last stop before bed, another beer at the ‘Chang’ bar. I’m not sure that’s what it’s called. But it’s set in a little courtyard right in the middle of the market area with little white marble-effect tables and wrought-iron chairs. Last time I was in Chiang Mai, the group I was travelling with had way too many beers at this bar. Once plied full of alcohol, we had dared each other to go out and buy ‘stuff’ and make sure we got a bargain. This time, we just had a beer (which may have been the most expensive beer we had in our whole trip), while watching the antics of the stall holders and tourists. Some people are just so rude. It’s one thing to barter friendlily, but another to be demanding and disrespectful. But then again, some stall holders are a bit too pushy too.

We walked back to the hotel through the Ansuran for one last look. I don’t know why I didn’t see the stall when we had walked through before, but towards the back, there was an old man sitting beside his stall of silver pictures, diligently hammering a design into a sheet of silver. And sure enough, he had pretty much the same picture of the Chinese zodiac I’d seen in the silver village. Even though it was framed, I asked if he would take it out. We agreed on a price, and I quickly had the thin silver piece neatly wrapped in newspaper, ready to be packed into the bottom of my suitcase, ready for the journey ahead. - k

Laos Part 1 - Chiang Mai Temples and Tigers

We flew into CM from Kuala Lumpur via Air Asia without a hitch. Last time I was in Chiang Mai, I came overland from Lumpang and left via night train to Bangkok so was actually very impressed with the modern and reasonably spacious airport (well if you’ve been to Kuala Lumpur LCCT you’ll know exactly what I mean). We cleared immigration / passport control just as a big 747 Thai airways jet landed so really lucked in with timing.

After getting THB from an ATM (and almost leaving my card in the machine – what a disaster that would have been), we went to the taxi counter and were allocated our driver. Though the fare would have been 80 THB, we gave him 100 and he gave us his card and offered to take us pretty much anywhere at anytime. The trip took at most 10 mins and before we knew it we were greeted by a stout guy in a pith helmet and safari suit, the doorman at Ping Nakara.

(wai) Sawadee-Ka. Oh how I miss Thailand. This was my fourth trip back, and scheduled to be the shortest visit yet. It was also my second visit to Chiang Mai – the previous one 6 years ago was as part of an Intrepid tour. This whole adventure was more a foray into Laos with Chiang Mai unfortunately just a starting point.

Ping Nakara was an amazing experience (check out my review on Trip Advisor -  http://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g293917-d1557579-r120215201-Ping_Nakara_Boutique_Hotel_Spa-Chiang_Mai.html#CHECK_RATES_CONT). Check in was quick with the staff providing excellent detail about the hotel, surrounds and room. In no time flat, I had my bags semi-unpacked, toiletries in the spacious bathroom, and itching to check out my surrounds. Swapping from long pants to shorter shorts, there was a little time for a quick stroll up the road to check out the neighbourhood. Paul Collins, of Best Tuk-Tuk Tours, was due to pick us up at 11am for a day trip.

The short walk gave me a glimpse into the riverside area. Only two weeks prior to arriving, parts of Chiang Mai were pretty badly flooded, including the area around the hotel. All along the road, smudgy brown lines marked the high water mark on shop walls and fences. Judging by the marks, I would have been waist deep in the flooded waters of the Ping River if I standing on the footpath. The river itself was less than 100 metres from the hotel, but now back to within its banks.

As we arrived back at the lobby (after a quick maybe 2km walk down the main road that ran parallel to the river), I noticed a tuk-tuk parked near the door, and a tall Western guy coming out the main entrance. I checked my watch and it was maybe 10:45 – fifteen minutes until pickup, but Paul was early. ‘Paul?’ ‘K?’ We greeted each other with questions and a brisk handshake. ‘Give me one minute’.

A super-fast visit to the room to pick up my camera, and we were quickly on our way in the back of Paul’s tuk tuk happily chatting away. Paul has Thai citizenship, was born to American parents and educated in the USA, but lived most of his life in Chiang Mai. I was instantly jealous – to live in this amazing country and wonderful city. We exchanged a few stories and talked about the itinerary, as Paul expertly wove in and out of the crazy traffic like a pro (as he was). Black plumes of exhaust wafted into my face at every intersection or stop. Along one of the roads near the moat of the old city, a couple motorbike riders and car drivers gave Paul (and us) a bewildered look; What the? Farang? (foreigner) Driving a tuk tuk? With farang passengers? Huh? That’s not right...  Their reaction amused us all.

Paul is a fantastic guide and knows so much about Chiang Mai. When I booked the trip, I gave him a list of what I hoped to try to see, and let him make the day’s itinerary based on locations and ease of drive between them. Through the whole day, Paul pointed out interesting facts or objects we may have otherwise overlooked. And he knows his Thai history and gave us the low-down on each place and the king (or other important monk) who built each.

First stop, Wat Chedi Luang. I’d visited it all those years ago and was very keen to see it again. Paul explained its architecture and major points of interest before we stopped and chatted with a monk, connected with the temple and Buddhist University there. They all study English and are keen to practise with native speakers. Many temples now have a ‘Monk Chat’ program to encourage visitors to spend some time talking with them, and at the same time learn a bit about Buddhism or the temple.

We chatted for quite some time, and were so impressed he knew the good old “Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi Oi Oi” chant. We talked about sport, Australian schools, his daily routine and study, thoroughly enjoying his friendly laugh and curious questions. As always, I took a few photos before Paul ushered us back into the tuk tuk, handed us a fresh cold bottle of water, and drove us to his favourite local restaurant for lunch.

Lunch. OMG! Seriously, it was maybe the best Thai meal I’ve ever had! Paul had mentioned that lunch would be in a local restaurant in an area not visited by tourists, advising that we would be the only foreigners there. We arrived at an innocuous open air shop front, with a dozen or so white, outdoor furniture tables, covered in red-checked plastic table-cloths. Along one side, benches were set up for food preparation, with a few large steel pots at one end, omitting ribbons of steam and luscious smells. Almost every table was occupied, with groups of locals enjoying bowls of yummy-looking curries and stir fires.

Paul led us to a free table near the back, exchanging greetings and smiles with the employees. He explained that the local speciality was khao soi (pronounced cow soy). Interestingly enough, we’d seen a TV cooking show not long before our trip that showed the hostess, Poh, in Chaing Mai, talking with the locals and cooking khao soi. After a quick scan of the menu, we all decided to order the local dish. Khao soi is a spicy noodle soup similar to Malaysian Laska, but undoubtedly Thai. For what I’ve learned, it’s served mainly in northern Thailand, Burma and northern Laos.

A short, bow-legged, old woman, probably the owner or head cook, came over to take our order. Joking with Paul in Thai, she gave us warm and welcoming smiles. Knowing I was vegetarian, Paul ordered my meal ensuring no meat (or chicken stock) was used. A few minutes after ordering, the Thai woman delivered a large jug of iced green tea, as well as little plates of pickled cabbage and tiny little, super-sour Thai limes, about the size of a quail egg. A few moments later, our meals were brought over in simple, large, white bowls. The sweet, fragrant, aroma made me instantly hungry, given I hadn’t eaten since a dodgy sandwich grabbed from a convenience store as the airport before our flight earlier that morning. It was a soup-like dish, with soft rice noddles, deep-fried crispy noodles, shallots, veggies and chilies all swimming in a curry-like coconut milk based sauce, similar to a yellow curry.

Of course, I was wearing a white shirt. Perfect for a slurpy, soupy meal, eaten with chop sticks and pinyin (you know, the Chinese style soup spoon). Paul quickly pointed out how white clothing attracts curry sauce. After Paul had a quick chat with the restaurant’s cook a large red apron was draped around my neck, attracting many smiles and giggles from the other restaurant patrons and staff. I didn’t care how it looked; this delicious-aromatic-spicy-crunchy-herbaceous soup was worth looking like a clown or a freak. And no photos were taken to worry about re-surfacing later at a most in-opportune moment...

After considering a second bowl (and knowing that I would feel too drowsy afterward to enjoy the rest of the afternoon), I said a “khop khun kha” with a deep bow of appreciation to the cooks, climbed back into Paul’s tuk-tuk and we were on our way. Next stop was Wat Suan Dok, whose name means ‘field of flowers’, a 14^th century temple built by King Kew Na. I’d not seen a temple like it in Thailand. Its huge wiham (prayer hall) was built open on the sides rather than being totally enclosed. Inside, there were two large gold Buddhas, one standing and one seated, placed back-to-back facing opposite directions on a gorgeous alter adorned with candles, smoking incense and gold-gilt dancing buddhas.

In the temple grounds were dozens of stark white mausoleums containing the ashes of the royal family of Chaing Mai. A massive 48-meter golden chedi stands tall in the centre of a sea of white. According to legend, Sumana Thera a monk from the Sukhothai Kingdom brought a relic of the Buddha to Chaing Mai. When the relic was being readied to be placed in the temple, the relic is said to have miraculously duplicated. One relic was interred in the chedi; the other was placed on the back of a white elephant which was then allowed to wonder wherever it wanted. It walked up Doi Suthep mountain and died. Wat Prathat Doi Suthep was built on the exact spot the elephant came to rest.

A short drive from Wat Suan Dok was Wat Umong – my favourite of the day. It’s set in a forested area near the foot of Doi Suthep. There’s an old, crumbling chedi in the style of an Ashoka Pillar (which is the national emblem of India). Below the chedi are tunnels with alters and gold Buddhas to explore. In the rambling gardens are hundreds of moss-covered Buddha images, with overgrown plants and vines growing over all the stone works.

An unusual Buddha statue sits off to the side of the chedi. Before the Buddha attained enlightenment, he practiced severe austerity, wondering around in rags, only eating scraps he could find. The statue depicts the Buddha during this period, before he found the ‘Middle Way’ between austerity and indulgence, and attained perfect enlightenment. Looking at it, it reminds us of the balance required between these two extremes to find true peace. Today, there are very few Buddha images of the emaciated Buddha pre-enlightenment. I appreciated the rareness of the statue, doing a quick meditation on that illusive middle way.

Paul tried to hurry us along, motioning fur us to go back to the tuk tuk. In my usual hyperactive way, I had tried to pack in too many things into a small amount of time, which meant that we didn’t have as much time as I would have liked at Wat Umong. I hung back, hurriedly trying to take some more photos. I loved the peaceful, jungle feel, bathed in lots of wonderful shade against the hot Thai sun. There was so much more grounds to explore, but it would have to wait until next time (and gave me a great excuse to justify another visit to Chiang Mai).

Our next temple was Wat Jed Yod, a major Chiang Mai temple that is seldom visited by tourists. Seven chedis top the large central structure. Many sculptured Buddha images are carved around the exterior, many missing hands or heads after years of weather (and the looting war parties of conquerors that came through over the centuries). A few other ancient chedis dot the large temple gardens and grounds. It was built in the 15^th century to host the 8^th World Buddhist Council. It was a lovely quiet spot, and again I cursed my lack of planning enough time to truly explore and appreciate it.

So far, so many temples. I have a particularly strong interest in temple architecture and history. Given enough time I would spend weeks and months, maybe years, exploring and studying all Chiang Mai’s (and the whole Chiang Mai/Ching Rai regions’) temples. But, needing to balance out the trip for the sake or poor Mr J, the next stop was the Tiger Kingdom.

I had researched and read much about Tiger Kingdom, and I had my reservations due to some ethical questions that have been raised. But in the end, the animals are being protected, appeared to be well cared for, and there would be no (or maybe very little) chance to ever have the opportunity to be up close and personal with these amazing cats again. So the choice was made.

On arrival, we scanned all the various options and prices posted on big boards at the front desk. There are four ‘cages’ of tigers that you can go in: very young, young, adolescent and adult. We decided to go in the cages with the very smallest and the very largest tigers. First the big ones. 

It was late afternoon and the big guys were mostly dozing. The handlers ushered us to a reclining, huge cat, encouraging us to lay on it, pat his back and rear, play with his tail. He barely looked up. All the while, the organised photographer took photos of us as we were posed into positions for the shots. The next big guy along decided he had had enough of tourists laying on him for the day, rising from his position and walking to the back of the enclosure. The handlers let him be. The last big cat was semi-sleeping at the end of the enclosure. Once again, approaching from behind, we lay our heads on him as if he was a pillow, and one of the handlers wrapped his tail around our necks. At that point, this 300kg cat decided that it wasn’t cool. He raised his head, sat up on his front paws, looking at us out of the corner of his eyes. Onlookers gasped. The handlers let out a little ‘ooooh’ with a giggle, and told us it was OK. “Pat, pat. No problem”, all the while the tiger watched us impatiently. I watched him back, nervously.

After making it out alive, the next cage was the 3-month olds. Cute is an understatement. Amazing. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Delightful. Adorable. Not enough adjectives for lovely exist in the English vocabulary to adequately describe these little darlings. There we met Tash, a volunteer from England who had the lucky privilege of working with these babies for a few months. We chatted with her about the cats, their care, their behaviour, and their training. But mostly we played with them. Tash gave instructions on dos and donts to make sure good traits were encouraged.

There were six little sweet-hearts in the large enclosure. They were running around, playing, interacting with us tourists. Just like domestic kittens, they loved to stalk and wrestle. We sat on a little bench while playing with one of the more gregarious little fellows, while Tash told us about the adolescents in the enclosure next door. Basically they didn’t let young children in the cage with them. Although they are well socialised and trained and never attacked people, small children were just too much of a temptation. You can see it. Toddlers are smaller than they are – just about the right size for a little snack... A few of the little guys were watching the other cage fascinated with their antis. The older cats were playing with their handlers in and around their wading pond, jumping in after their toys, splashing the on lookers.

Though we were only meant to be in with the little tigers for ten minutes, it wasn’t too busy and the attendants weren’t being too watchful, so we managed to get almost twenty minutes with them. I was jumped on and walked over, swiped, pawed and patted. One little girl even sat on my lap for a lovely little cuddle. Honestly, a once in a lifetime experience.

On the way back to the tuk-tuk, Paul joked with us about the big tiger that eyed us off, saying he was happy that we had paid up front – yeah, real funny. It was now well after 5pm and the sun was getting low. Last stop was Wat Doi Suthep.

Paul parked his shiny tuk-tuk in the row of other taxis and song-thaews, not without attracting a few curious looks from other drivers surprised to see a white man driving. He negotiated with a driver to take us all up the mountain, his tuk-tuk not having enough horse-power to climb the steep ascent. An older man, dark skinned with tobacco stained lips and fingers, finally agreed to a price with Paul. We jumped in the back of the red song-thaew. As the driver fired it up, a huge black plume of smoke from the rear exhaust wafted in to the back where we hunched over on the back of the little van, making us cough and splutter. The driver steadily drove us up the windy road, occasionally kicking back a gear to get around the steep bends.

Six years ago, I spent a couple of hours at this most sacred temple, sitting with other white-clad foreigners during the 6 o’clock chanting and meditation. This time, I wasn’t alone. Though I was happy to walk the 309 steps up to the temple, Paul and J headed straight for the cable car (funicular) to take the easy way up. Within a minute we were at the main entrance of the revered temple. After a quick walk around with the guys, I split off, purchasing a lotus flower, candles and incense. Time to pay homage. Clearing my mind, with a quick prayer of refuge, I circumambulated the golden stupa three times, slowly, along with other some other practitioners.

I lost track of time, and after my practice, I rejoined the guys for a walk around the temple grounds. Paul translated some of the signs as well as gave lots of wonderful history and information about the temple. We stopped at one of the side alters where Paul showed us how to use the fortune sticks. First, you light some incense and make a prayer. Then you shake a bamboo cylindrical container holding the fortune sticks (that kind-of resemble Chinese chop sticks) until one falls out. Each stick has a number. You then match the number on the stick to a set of fortunes in front of the alter. Apparently Paul has a fortunate time ahead with lots of hard work. I gave it a go, but when I shook the sticks, about five of them came out – looks like I have many fortunes ahead...

I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to sit in on evening prayers and chanting again. I wanted to soak up the calm energy of this place. I wanted to meditate in this holy place. I almost told them to leave me there. I knew that that wouldn’t happen. I slowly descended the 309 stairs. I climbed in the back of the song-thaew with the guys. I returned to the lights, smells and sounds of the hustle bustle of Chiang Mai. I knew that it was not my last visit to Doi Suthep...

We were dropped safely to our hotel as night was really taking hold. The last of the sun’s light was just fading from the sky. I was ready for a cold beer. But not before a change of clothes and a quick rinse. We headed off, taking the first street in the direction of the night market. Within a couple of blocks, we came across ‘The Whole Earth’ restaurant. It’s set in a surprising large garden, with some little paths around the trees and water features. From the branches of the trees, a steady stream of cool mist provided a refreshing spray.

We chose a table on the outdoor balcony and ordered a beer even before the waitress gave us our menus. Entree was marinated tofu skewers with beautiful peanut sauce, followed by a spicy green curry (which was great, but paled in comparison to our amazing khao soi from lunch). Service was great and we thoroughly enjoyed our meals.

From dinner, we ‘cased out’ the night market. Mr J thinks I’m a bit crazy. I like to check out all the stalls and goods on offer to compare the best deal and the choice items, and return the next day or night to go in hard, and bargain my heart out. We walked the whole length of the night market main road, including all the side streets, little side alleys, laneways, and lower ground malls, before settling in to one of the little restaurant/bars near the front of the Ansuran market area to watch the shopping and haggling. After a final beer, we headed back to our luxurious hotel, well and truly tired from a very long day. I needed sleep. Another busy day was planned for tomorrow.