lucky nines?

During the drive across to Mae Hong Son, Sak reveals that he had a dream the night before, about the numbers ‘9 9’ and a third number that was about to be revealed to him, but the dream ended.  If he can find this number, and find a lottery ticket that have this combination, and if he prays enough and makes merit in enough temples, he may win the big prize!  As I want to walk round the market (where there are many lottery ticket sellers) and see the temples anyway, this works out well for both of us.  He finds the missing number by seeing it in association with ‘9 9’ in various locations.  He won’t tell me the other number – it might break the luck – but I suspect it’s a third 9.   

Later, sitting in a restaurant, I happen to look up and see written in pencil on one of the beams – maybe a constructor’s mark – three number 9s!  That settles it.  So we visit practically every temple in town and make merit (mostly this means buying flowers and candles and bowing to Buddha images). In one there is a sign that says that anyone can pray for good luck, but only if they are sincere.  He bows to the image that represents Friday, his day of birth, and gets me to do the same to Sunday’s, which is mine, going through a certain ritual with the candles and flowers.  He urges me to think of what good thing I would like to happen to me.  It felt like blowing out the birthday candles as a kid.  Well, I wished that Sak wins the lottery: I’ve been lucky enough.  I would sincerely like him to win, and he believes so sincerely that it seemed the only right thing to do.  For good measure, we also feed the carp in the lake: being good to animals is also a good thing. Then, in the night market, Sak finds the exact lottery ticket number he’s looking for!  Will it all work?  We will have to wait for the draw on Friday to find out!

to mae hong son

15 October
Up early, almost with the dawn.  Doi Inthanon has disappeared behind the clouds and mist that hang in the valley.  The road stretches ahead, winding through the village and on and on.  In fact it proves easier than the previous section, but there are myriad bends.  Someone has worked out that there are 1864 of them on the loop.  No doubt spurious but the figure has become etched in the tourist literature.  And there certainly are plenty.  Up, up we go, hairpinning to the next ridge, then snaking along it and plunging down the other side to the next little valley bottom with its Spartan village and few impossibly green rice paddies.  Across a concrete bridge and then winding up again to the next pass.  At the top, each time, we can see the ridges ahead fading to blue, towards the Burmese border.   There’s little traffic, mostly just local pickups either going very slowly, laden with cabbages, or very fast, cutting the bends and overtaking on the rare straights.  But we’re eating into the distance better than I expected.  Around noon we come across a little market in one of the larger villages and pull off the road.  Sak negotiates at a little roadside stall and we get 2 bowls of soup noodles with pork and 2 home made lemon teas for 60 baht (£1.20).  He’s already proved his worth at signpostless junctions, where he’s asked the way: I would probably have been lost by now.   

Soon we traverse the last ridge and drop down into the gentler contours of the valleys that lead us to Mae Hong Son.  Now we are in a region whose waters drain towards Burma, and Burmese cultural influence has always been stronger.  A motor road only came relatively recently.  Mae Hong Son means land of three mists, apparently, and is famous for training elephants. 

In the end the drive hasn’t been at all difficult.  Some of the road is washed out by recent rains, and it is very bendy, but actually all the more interesting driving because of that.  Sak declares that I’m a very safe driver – not without a slight sigh of relief perhaps.  In the end it’s only taken us four hours actual driving time, but with quite a few stops n the way.

The town is perhaps not quite so picturesque as it once was.  Even fairly recent guidebooks describe it as mostly wooden 2 story teak houses, and this is still true of most back streets, but the main street has now been partly colonized by those concrete bank buildings you find everywhere in Thailand, of standard design, built to impress, not blend in, plonked down like Studio Gibli robots.  There are also a few larger concrete hotels springing up to blot the view.  But mostly the town rides over all that.  There is a small lake packed with carp, and in every direction the vast blue ranges of mountains that give the area an alpine feel.  Next to the lake, some interesting temples, in the local Yai style, the roofs edged with pierced metal eaves of intricate design, like delicate lace doilies. 

We get hopelessly lost finding the hotel.  Sak asks for directions several times.  These conversations last several minutes each, with lots of polite bowing and pointing, agreeing and questioning, looks of puzzlement and dawning insight.  But when he gets back in the car, each time, he shrugs: “They not know.”  So in the end we have to get the hotel to send someone to meet us in the centre and we follow him back on his motorbike.  A much more friendly and well maintained hotel.  We have a little villa with a view from its terrace across a paddy field to the mountains beyond.  All for about £30 for the night. 

photos now online

You can see some of my photos of the Mae Hong Son loop by clicking here

to doi inthanon and mae chaem

14 October

And so we start on the loop.  It turns out that Sak hasn’t been on most of this route, so it’s as new for him as for me.  Asking around the bar it seems most of the locals and the foreign residents haven’t done it either.  And I get a few incredulous looks along the lines of you’re going all that way on that road?  I’m not doing the full loop via Mae Sarieng, but taking a short cut through the middle, cutting across the N-S mountain ranges on a less popular road.  Consensus is this is even more risky.

Anyway, the first section is well known to me, to Doi Inthanon, and straightforward.  It turns out Sak hasn’t even been to this, the highest mountain in Thailand and also regarded as a sacred site by Thais, so he’s thrilled to be going there.  We first have to traverse the boring linear development along the highway south of CM, but soon turn off along the pleasant wooded road that rises towards the mountains.  We stop at the Vatchirathan waterfall, in full spate just after the rains, and through the tribal villages where they grow temperate fruit and veg that can’t grow at lower, hotter altitudes.  On up to the royal chedi.  These are modern granite faced monuments to the Thai king and queen consort, surrounded by pleasant gardens, and when we visited swathed in cloud.  A large sign there states that this is the highest point on Doi Inthanon ‘measured by air pressure’.  I’ve puzzled at this each time I’ve passed it.  A few kilometers ahead the main peak is at least 100m higher at 2565m.  Does some quirk of the prevailing wind reduce the pressure on this side of the mountain?  It’s as if in the eyes of the Air Force (who built and manage the chedi) the barometer trumps the theodolite.  Now we turn off the Doi Inthanon road, after driving up and down a few times failing to find the turning, into new territory for me, the road to Mae Chaem.  Only 23km but probably the most difficult road I’ve driven.  It twists and turns seemingly round every tree and rock, and local drivers have little sense of keeping to the left, so lots of welly on the horn is necessary on blind bends.  If the other 300km are like this…  But the countryside is spectacular.  We cross a series of passes and then drop into the hidden valley of Mae Chom in the golden light of late afternoon.  

We stop at a guest house with the most amazing view across the valley.  We are greeted by a very handsome looking teenager, who looks entirely European – light brown hair and eyes, tall, with a perfect tan.  However, he’s a native Thai speaker with barely any English. 

This resort must once have been very pleasant if simple, with small villas getting the most of the view, in extensive mature gardens.  However it looks like it hasn’t had any maintenance for years and is in rapid decline.  The boy and another almost the same age, mope all day at a table in the restaurant they have colonized with the detritus of youth, playing computer games.  They seem to be the only staff.  There is a swimming pool, however, that appears to be properly maintained, so we spend our time there gazing at the view.  A middle aged European man is sunbathing: he merely grunts and stares when I say hello.  I take him to be one of the guests, but we keep seeing him.  At dinner, he sits alone at the corner of the largest table, beer in hand, occasionally glowering at the guests.  Eventually I realize he is the Nordic owner, and it feels like we are bit players in some Bergmanesque tragedy.  Great dinner though, served up by the enigmatic young man (perhaps the owner’s son).  Pra taptim (a plump local river fish) with ginger and a fierce green chilli sauce, red chicken curry with beans and green tomatoes, and tom kah kai. 

In the morning we decide to get out of the atmosphere here as fast as possible; and we have the longest leg of our trip ahead of us, 160km to Mae Hong Son.

chiang mai

 13 October

I’ve spent my first couple of days just wandering around at random in this city, which is always the best way to absorb the atmosphere (I’m not talking about car fumes, but that too).  I visited the National Museum today, which means, if you’re walking, negotiating the grandly named Superhighway, which is a bit like the North Circular but with 10 times as many motorbikes.  The only way to get to the museum on foot seems to be to hike along the hard shoulder in the blazing sunshine.  My advice – get a tuk-tuk if you do it.  The museum is a large, ‘modern lanna style’ collection of pitched roofs and stucco, quite fine and in pleasant grounds, but seems a little down on its luck these days, a shabby reminder of former glory days.  There seemed to be only three other visitors while I was there.  There was a wall of lockers for your bags, but only about 10 had keys and only half of those worked.  The exhibits (in the part that was open) were like the museums I remember from my childhood – mahogany cases with dioramas of stone age families and forgotten wars, papier mache relief maps of  the region’s geology, plaster casts of graves with skeletons and grave goods.  References to research and archaeological digs seemed to stop in the 1960s.  It was all quite nostalgic.  

I did learn quite a lot about the Lanna kingdom.  The earliest known people were taken over by more advanced people from the south, though their culture still exists in a few villages, and some elements of their religion have been absorbed into the local version of Buddhism.  Lanna – which is said to  mean ‘A million rice-fields’: quite a lot of meaning to pack into two syllables – was a catch, as its name suggests, its fertile river valleys surrounded by less arable mountainous regions.  As a result it has been constantly  invaded and conquered by its neighbours.  In the 18^th century, tyrannical Burma was kicked out with the help of Siam, which then demanded suzerainty, though the kings of Lanna continued well into the 19^th century, when they married into and were absorbed by the current Thai line.  Chiang Rai after the Burmese expulsion was abandoned with just the temples remaining.  A diorama in the museum shows the walls intact, the temples, and the few tracks linking them (which form the basis of today’s roads), with a scattering of single storey wooden houses.  How it’s changed.

Another trek along the merciless Superhighway and another oasis - Wat Jed Yod is one of the most important and has some great old chedi and other building in a huge forest park.  Calm and cool before I brave the fumes and solar glare again. 

Pursuing all things Lanna, I went to a restaurant recommended for its northern style cooking last night. No, not tripe and deep fried whippets: bear with me.  It is located in a little back street, based on two traditional teak houses with lots of flowing water and a small jungle of plants, very atmospheric.  The waiter, seeing me struggle over the menu, and after a bit of mutual  incomprehensibility over my questions and his answers, recommended a tasting plate of local specialities.  This included: roast pork knuckle; minced pork in spicy tomato curry; pork scratchings; belly pork (beginning to spot a theme here?) in chilli and garlic gravy; and northern pork sausages infused with lemon grass; and a slightly steamed salad with fiery green chilli sauce.   Yes, a lot of pork, but somehow it was a meal that rhymed rather than clashed.  Anyway I got through the lot.

the route: oct-dec 2013

 12 October

So here’s the plan.  After a couple of days in Chiang Mai, I’m heading off to the remote valleys to the north west, near the Burmese border, a four day tour through hill tribe country doing about 100km average a day.  It doesn’t sound too much as Thai roads generally are good quality, generally built to American standards, but in the hills they are said to be extremely winding.  But it’s something I’ve wanted to do for some time. I wouldn’t feel confident about doing it alone, but I’ve persuaded Sak to come with me (he helped me a lot during my last visit).

Next up is a tour of some of the remoter corners of China.  Again, I thought local knowledge would be helpful, and another friend, Hong, is accompanying me there.  Then, by train to Hong Kong for a few days where I will meet up with some old friends from my time there, and back to Thailand and the more chilled half of my trip (on which Ian will be joining me), mostly on beaches, and including a side trip to Phnom Penh and Kep.  So a few familiar places and a few new ones – that’s the kind of mix I like.

Chiang Mai - again

 11 October

So I’m back in Chiang Mai on the first leg of a new Asian trip, sitting in the shady garden of my little home from home, reading the comforting headlines about storms and torrential rains back in England.  Here, the rainy season has just ended and the dry cool season is starting.  It feels like the best sort of English summer day.

The trip out was smooth and uneventful.  My brief encounter with HMQ (or a cardboard cutout!) was the only excitement at terminal 3.  But then airports the world over are homogenized and deliberately bland, to make you focus on the retail opportunities no doubt.

I had to transfer at Bangkok to my domestic flight to Chiang Mai, which meant going from one end of the huge airport to the other.  It’s so big that the direction signs give distances: after about 10 minutes walking I was told I had another 900m to go!  

Jiab, all smiles and hugs, collected me from the airport and there I was back in this oasis in a quiet soi.  Just enough energy after 13½  hours of flying for a couple of quick drinks in the local bar, where I was greeted like a long lost friend.  They have decided to hold a birthday party in my honour on my last night in CM (which means food and whisky for the staff – but should be fun!).  Any excuse for a party - welcome back to the land of smiles!

London, summer 2013

 “Why, Sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford."

I write about my trips, but never about London: but this city is where I spend most of my time – and I’m with Samuel Johnson.  Ian and I have sometimes flirted with the idea of moving out of London, as some of our friends have done; but a look at our kitchen calendar tells you why that’s not on the cards.  “Ah! The space, the country walks, the fresh air…” “Yes, and there are cultural things you can do in the country…” “Yes, it would be lovely – but we’d want to visit London now and again…” “… we could stay for a week now and again…” “well, maybe stay a few months every year and…” “…or keep a flat there…”   “Why was it we wanted to move to the country again?”

Late afternoon sun in central London

This summer particularly has been one to remember.  The weather (after a dreadful spring) has been superb throughout and right through into early October.  And as a man of leisure now I have really made the most of our metropolis.  I got some weekly season tickets for the Proms and was a regular prommer for the first time in my life.  I have become a volunteer at our new local theatre and seen many productions there, and am getting to know local people.  I’ve been on many long urban walks: along the river (Canary Wharf to Westminster, Barnes Bridge to central London); through the central London parks; or from our house up Highgate Hill, across the Heath and all the way to Golders Green.  And a huge number of concerts and theatre, partly thanks to a free ticket scheme my brother introduced us to.  My best concert was Nigel Kennedy’s radical reinterpretation of the Four Seasons, with the youthful Palestinian String Orchestra, in a late night prom, incorporating elements of jazz and Arabic classical music.  Other highlights were Daytona, with Maureen Lipman, and two Ibsen plays: Ghosts and Hedda Gabler (with Sheridan Smith), both deconstructions of conservative morality written in the 1880s but still relevant today.  It’s also been a great year for outdoor performances.  I’m a big fan of the Globe Theatre and the Regents Park open air theatre. 

London’s streets really become alive in the summer, with pop-up outdoor restaurants, and crowds outside every pub, and special events in the parks and along the South Bank. Now that I'm not working (and avoiding rush hour transport) I actually enjoy the bustle, the crwods - even the tourists - though the 'living statues' are getting a bit much!).  Then there have been visits to events such as the Hampton Court flower show and the world athletics championships at the Olympic park.  A time to explore many other of London's open spaces too, including the Chelsea Physic Garden and Kew. 

So it’s been fun, and far from tired of life, this summer in London has reinvigorated me and made me hungry for more.