Chiang Mai

We are now in Chiang Mai, Northern capital of Thailand. We are planning on staying here for five or six weeks. The idea was to settle down in a town using the “Cinderella principle”: not too big, not too small; interesting tourist sites, but not too touristy; local color, but not without some larger infrastructure. You get the idea, and I think we got the town. The layout of the town itself is quite interesting. The old part of town is surrounded by a picturesque rectangular moat and decaying brick walls with large gates in the middle of each of the four sides. A morning run around the moat takes about 45 minutes, perfect for my weekly routine. People drive on the left in Thailand and traffic travels counter-clockwise on one road inside the moat and clockwise around the outside; a surprisingly effective system. The resources I come across call Chiang Mai Thailand’s northern capital and the spiritual center of the country. The place does seem very “Thai” and not overrun by tourists but there are, of course, a number of food and lodging options catering to visitors. I’ve also met a number of expatriates who have retired here because of the pleasant climate, interesting town, and affordable standard of living. Some parts of town are definitely geared to tourists, such as the famous Night Bazaar, but it is not hard to find the shops and restaurants frequented by the locals. Basically, all the places you want to go are within walking distance and, if Maya isn’t up to the trek, it’s easy and cheap to hire a tuk-tuk (note the baby in the back seat of the one to the right) or songtheauw - basically a pickup with benches in the semi-enclosed truck bed – who gather riders together who are travelling in the same general direction. Most of the locals get around on scooters. We have rented them as well. We can all fit on one and Maya really appreciates not having to walk so far.

We first stayed at Grace's Boutique House which employed a large staff of intern guides with whom Maya got along swimmingly. Most of the locals first assume Maya is Thai (which she looks as though she could be); in general, it's very easy to meet people when travelling with kids. The picture of the right is of Maya and Pon and the dog Noman on Pon's bike. While the staff at Grace's was great, we moved two doors down to the Na Inn for a larger sunny room. The photo on the left is of the kids and Mao who manages the Na Inn, which is shown in the upper right photo.

Train to Chiang Mai

We flew from Krabi back up to Bangkok and from there we boarded an overnight train to Chiang Mai. The train trip would take about 14 hours. We passed the time until dinner with a game of Farkle, a dice game “of guts and luck” according to the cover, which we have been playing frequently on this trip. The kids had never been on an overnight train and loved the little individualized sleeping compartments. We were settled in as others got on the train including a white-haired middle-aged European softly singing a little drinking ditty and clutching a large Chang beer. No worries I thought, he’ll just pass out and my earplugs will shelter me from any loud snoring. Sure enough, he fell asleep quickly but the ear plugs turned out to be little match for his snores which were punctuated with bizarre, small, sharp, nonsensical screams. Later, he sat up in his berth and, in some ambiguous state of consciousness, progressed to longer and louder screams or some inarticulate nature. He must have been in some state altered by something more than Chang beer, perhaps the “yaa baa” amphetamines that, according to the John Burdett novels I mentioned earlier, are apparently popular with some darker elements of Thai society. Luckily, and in no small part thanks to our esteemed train conductor on the left - who went for assistance only to find the train car locked at both ends for “safety precautions” - no harm more than some sleeplessness resulted. The kids and I actually got a decent night's sleep and enjoyed the scenery as the morning brightened and our crazed travelling companion slept. We arrived without further incident.

Tonsai Climbing and Eating

Zak and I did get in a little climbing while were at Tonsai and it was fantastic. We set up an outing with “Ra” at the Tonsai Rock Shop. He was to supply all the equipment along with his guiding services. However, when we arrived at the predetermined time, Ra was still asleep in his hammock. He was apparently suffering from a bout of over-indulgence the night before and, even after a colleague stuck his ipod speakers directly under his hammock, consciousness did not appear likely in the near future. Instead, we were escorted by his colleague Dee who brought us over to the "Fire Wall" at the North end of Tonsai Beach. One of the wonderful aspects of climbing is that it takes you to beautiful spots that you might not have had reason to go to otherwise. Climbing at Tonsai brought me to one of the most beautiful spots I have ever seen, period. We climbed the “Groove Tube” route up a colorful limestone cliff with a beautiful blue bay at our backs. Zak did great, back-stepping and stemming up the tube like a pro which was no small feat given its grade (French grading system 6A or about 5.9/5.10 U.S.). By this time it was getting pretty hot on the Fire Wall so we moved to the Dum’s Kitchen wall right on the beach. We climed “Pahn Taaled” (Always Pass), another excellent 6A, that involved some big reaches to bomber holds. That was it for Zak for the day but Dee and I moved over to the Tonsai Roof right next to the Freedom Bar at the South end of the beach. I literally belayed Dee from the floor of the Bar. Our route, Cowabungalow (6B or 5.10 b/c), started above the actual roof and involved a number of delicate moves between hanging stalactites. I’ve never done any climbing like this and I can’t wait to do some more although I will have to work on my climbing as we completed a large portion of the climbs under a grade of 5.11. After climbing, Zak and I met up with the folks at Phra Nha beach where we were entertained by some monkeys before going for a refreshing swim; this place is like paradise. However, even in utopia there is myopia. Zak was trying to hand feed a corn cob to a young monkey, when the father(?) leaped up, bared his teeth, and hissed in Zak's face; presumably for teasing the youngster with a cob and no corn. I got Zak to agree that would be the closest encounter to a monkey on this trip.

Everything here is simply beautiful, including the monkey encounters. The beaches are incredible, the climbing is world class, the bars and restaurants are all some combination of picturesque, good, and cheap. The following picture is of the dining area set into a cave at the Rayavadee Resort, the next is of the family eating at a beachside restaurant, the next is where I was waiting for the kids after climbing, the fourth is breakfast at the restaurant for our bungalow “resort”

and the last is of the lunch place where the kids and I have been enjoying the best grilled chicken

and cold coconut milk.

Stumble Bum

On our second full-day in Tonsai, I woke before the kids this morning and decided to go for my first run of the trip. I considered saving the legs because I had made plans to go climbing with Zak after breakfast but I figured what could a little warm-up run hurt, right? Besides, this was my first opportunity to do a morning run and I liked the idea if keeping the synchronicity with what Mary was doing back home. My route took me along a dirt path over steep hills through the jungle to East Railay Beach and back; beautiful morning, beautiful scenery, feeling great. I was almost back to the bungalow when I stumbled. Instinctively I tried to race my feet back under me but basically only succeeded in accelerating into the hard-pack dirt. I rolled to my feet thinking, "that wasn’t too bad" and looked down for a quick visual self-appraisal only to find that the fourth finger on my right hand took an unexpected 90 degree turn to the right at the middle knuckle. I of course showed off my new booboo to the only other person in sight, a kid who happened to be walking on the same path. Juvenile showmanship over, I quickly weighed the relative advantages of being able to clean my ear without raising my arm and the havoc a bent finger would play with my nascent, and largely hypothetical, career as a concert pianist. Reaching down, I grabbed the end of the finger, pulled it out, popped it back into place, and finished the run. I washed off the dirt and blood and treated the gashes with Neosporin. Perhaps slightly proud of my home doctoring, I simply changed the plans for the day from climbing to snorkeling. Those of you familiar with my home surgery prowess (appendectomy anyone?) may not be surprised to hear that the finger felt worse instead of better the next few days. The swelling increased, the wound kept weeping, and I started feeling worse. When the kids came in the room while I was resting and asked what smelled, suspicion rested first on the usual suspect (Zachary’s shoes) but when that possibility was eliminated I realized that the finger was infected and the smell of slow death was actually my rotting flesh. My Dad had some amoxicillin along so I start self-medicating but a quick internet search noted that this particular antibiotic was primarily prescribed for middle-ear infections and gonorrhea (I never did ask Dad why he carried them) so I decided to head to town with Zak to see a doctor the next morning. This required a combination boat and car trip to Krabi Town but the doctor quickly diagnosed the problem, prescribed the medication, and sold it to me on the spot. Total fee for doctor visit and medication (2 antibiotics, 1 anti-inflammatory, and 1 antibiotic cream): 500 baht ($15); the cost of transportation was double that but I was personally escorted and chauffeured by “An” and his wife who joined us for the farang (foreigner) paid trip to town. My injury hasn’t kept me from climbing completely but I have been subsequently limited in my ability to compete head-to-head with the group of K2-sponsored Chinese climbers who are always hogging the spectacular roof routes on the beach next to the Freedom Bar where the climbers all hang out.

Railay and Krabi

Greetings from Paradise! From Bangkok we took a short plane flight to the beaches of Krabi on the West (Andaman/Indian Ocean) coast of the long tail of Thailand that runs down to Malaysia. From the airport, we hired a taxi to the beach at Ao Nong where we hired a long-tail boat to take us to Railay, a peninsula that is only reachable by boat. There are no cars on the Peninsula but the many "resorts" have motorcycles with side-car platforms to bring luggage to and from the beach (see the photo of Carol and Maya in the photo below). The coast down here is incredibly beautiful. Massive limestone cliffs in shades of white and tan and gray jut up through tangles of green vegetation. Some cliffs are separated by crescents of beautiful light sand, others jut directly from the ocean forming anthropormorphic-shaped islands all around. We are staying in a bungalow on Tonsai Beach. It turns out Tonsai is a Mecca for international sport climbing and has a groovy, laid-back feel. Commerce in Tonsai is consists largely of bungalow guest-houses, climbing shops, and open-air restaurants and bars scattered along the beach and through the jungle along rutted dirt paths. The restaurants and bars are all open air and all feature some type of colorful rope light/Christmas light illumination. Many have platforms on which you can lounge against triangular Thai pillows. Most have a slack line strung across the sand where patrons can display their feats of balance on a nylon-webbing tightrope. The whole place is evocative of a huge festival featuring climbing and diving and beaches instead of live music.

The beaches, framed by the limestone, cliffs are simply stunning. Because of the large limestone outcroppings, travel between the beaches requires some planning, generally the long-tail boat pilots are willing to ferry you for a small fee. Zak and I also walked between beaches at low-tide, swam at high-tide, climbed over paths, and even rented a kayak for an afternoon. The latter was particularly fun as we were able to explore various small sea-caves at the base of the limestone cliffs in the area.

Chinatown

On our last morning in Bangkok we went to nearby Chinatown where we wandered through a maze of walking streets choked with vendors organized by product; various small purses and pouches on this block, wholesale zip-lock bags and boxes on another, children’s games on this one, kitchen house-wares over here. We made our way over to a heavily-used Chinese temple with many locals offering incense and flowers and fruit to the various altars inside. Just another day in the life of the Thais of Chinese-descent but very interesting and exotic to us farang (foreigners).

Soi Cowboy and Patpong

In my research for the trip I came across a series of novels by John Burdett featuring a half-caste Thai police officer and his experiences in the seedy underside of Bangkok. The primary setting for the books is Soi Cowboy, a short strip of go-go bars named for an African-American vet who found the states too dull after the Vietnam so returned to Thailand and opened up his own club. I stopped by the street early in the afternoon before anything got rolling just to see the place. Very intereting. I had a beer at a sidewalk bar with Julian, Dave and another 50-60ish long-term ex-pat who were drinking off their hangovers from the night before and regaling each other about their exploits from the night before. Apparently Dave’s girlfriend came in last night catching him with another girl who he had stashed out on the balcony covering his tracks completely except for the interloper’s shoes which were sitting by the door. They were certainly a colorful group but I just couldn’t see a life of continuous adolescence in lieu of the rewards of a loving family and rewarding career. What impact will they have left on the world when they are gone? Before heading back to the hotel I stopped by Joe’s Bar where they were still in process of opening up for the night. Seeing they weren’t yet open for business, I made to leave but the proprietress insisted I be the first sale of the day in honor of my name.

The whole family ventured out to Patpong, a couple of subway stops from our hotel. This apparently used to be ground zero for go-go bars and touts advertising shows of questionable cultural value. While some of the clubs remained, the famous red light district of Bangkok had gone decidedly tourist. The central parts of Soi (street) Patpong 1 and 2 are transformed every evening into a night marked chocked full of vendors selling knock-off Rolexes and Cartier. We wandered under the neon lights through the confusion stopping for dinner from a food vendor who had set up shop outside of a bank. The main seating are consisted of a couple of plastic tables and some chairs set up in the fenced off area around the ATM machines. The food was fine and I was particularly impressed with my mother who must have been suppressing her concerns over cleanliness as she jumped right in and enjoyed the meal with us. The kids were really starting to get tired by this time so we dodged across another busy street to another brightly-lit “Joe’s Bar” where we could sit and have a drink alongside the street and enjoy the spectacle before us from a position of relative comfort.

The Floating Market

Wooden canoes, laden with exotic and brilliantly-colored fruits and vegetables, ply narrow canals. Brightly-clad women prepare elaborate dishes and beckon potential customers as the heavy canoes of the both buyers and sellers bump past each with distinctive heavy "thunks".
The floating market of Damnoen Saduak began years ago with farmers selling their produce on the many canals that crisscross this area. At that time the river was the focus of the community. Water was the primary avenue of both transportation and commerce. The water was used to irrigate the crops and communities grew up around the river. While this is all still true to some extent today, for instance I did see locals selling goods from wooden canoes to residences along the larger canals, the primary reason this particular floating market retains its vibrancy is tourism. Which is fine. One could lament over the large covered shopping areas spreading out from either side of the main floating market canals selling wooden elephants and silk scarves but what would be the point? The floating market would not exists without the tourists and all parties benefit by their presence. I know that I personally loved it. All of it. The sights, the sounds, the smells, and the food.
The experience really began when we transferred from our bus to long-tail boats for a fast and loud trip down larger canals to the market. Long Tails are long, skinny brightly-painted boats powered by small automobile engines mounted on a kind of swivel in the back of the boat. A drive shaft runs through a pipe from the back of the engine to the propeller. The driver guides the boat by turning the entire engine from side to side and lifting the drive shaft and propeller in and out of the water. They’re noisy, colorful, fast, smelly, and not necessarily the most efficient looking watercraft I’ve ever seen all of which makes them, from my foreign-tourist perspective, wonderfully, distinctively Thai. From the long-tails we transferred to the smaller wooden canoes for a trip through the market canals. The kids and I were buying food and fruit from the other boats. None of us were particularly hungry; that didn’t seem the point. The food was delicious and it was particularly interesting to see the women prepare relatively elaborate dishes – such as small muffin/waffle things made from batter poured into molds on a large metal cooking surface, noodle soups of multiple ingredients, and small white semi-translucent turnovers made by spreading a batter on a white cooking drum-like surface which was then folded over the interior ingredients – right in the little wooden canoes. It’s all a matter of perspective but I’m beginning to realize that Thailand can be a real feast for the senses.

We have arrived!

We have arrived and it’s great to be here. The Asiana Airlines flight to Bangkok was downright pleasant which was very nice as travel time totaled over 23 hours. The leg from LAX to Inchon, Seoul took 12 hours and the leg from Seoul to Bangkok another 6. This left plenty of time for sleeping, eating, and watching movies. We were supposed to get another hour on a United Express feeder flight from San Diego to Los Angeles but the fog was so thick on departure, they put us all on a bus and drove us up to LAX. My parents left about the same time as us from San Diego and arrived about the same time in Bangkok but on a Northwest flight via Tokyo. We hooked up at the airport early in the morning on January third and shared a cab into town.
We awoke our first morning to a Bangkok that at first blush appears big, crowded, dirty, and beautiful! Interestingly, two friends and colleagues of mine are in town as well. The three of us all were all hired at the same time and knew each other well both on and off campus. Mark is married to a Thai woman, Boon, and is staying in her family’s house with their four-month old child Benjamin. Also in the house are Boon’s mother and grandmother both of whom refer to the baby only as Heng-Heng (Lucky-Lucky). Mark had previously arranged hotel reservations for ourselves and Gwenyth very near Boon’s family house which is very centrally-located in the city. He kindly met us on our first morning and helped us get our bearings showing us first a small morning street market and a Chinese temple area near Boon’s family house. Properly oriented, he led us toward the nearby Chao Phraya River. The traffic is notoriously gridlocked in Bangkok (but, for some reason, always seems to be whizzing by fast and furious whenever we want to walk across a street) so we decided to travel by river shuttle as headed out to soak up the city.
We were packed onto a crowded boat, taking care to keep clear of the area explicitly set-aside for monks who always travel for free. Most men in Thailand enter the monastery for at least part of their lives. The monks are supported by the general population at large who gain merit for themselves by offering food to the monks who circulate with their offering bowls daily. We travelled upriver to the Ko Ratanakosin royal district. The complex encompasses many buildings and stupas (conical towers) all of the spectacularly decorated both inside and out. One of my favorites was Wat (temple) Pho which houses the largest reclining Buddha in the world. The Buddha is over 150’ long and seems almost too big for the ornate structure in which he is housed. The Buddha is completely covered in gold leaf and his feet are inlaid with complex mother of pearl scriptures. The angle of repose reflects the Buddha’s posture as he left this world and entered Nirvana which I suppose is why it looks like he is just kicking back rather than fighting the end in death throes. I offered coins to the 100 bowls alongside one wall of the temple asking for good fortune on our travels in return.
Already in need of a break we all piled into the back of a little tuk-tuk; an anamotopeic three-wheeled motorized rickshaw to the oldest part of town a little further upriver for lunch. Getting out, we soon found ourselves in a rabbit-warren of narrow aisles serving small shops and restaurants. The smoke from many small kitchens drifted through shafts of sunlight slanting around awnings and metal roofs. Bumping elbows with orange-robed monks shopping for religious amulets and ray-bans, we savored the spicy smell of the food being prepared. Everything was open air and most restaurants were narrow with only two rows of small tables along a central aisle. We picked on only because of the availability of a table on the water and were rewarded with great food and serendipitous entertainment. We had noticed the large number of carp-like fish between the mats of floating hyacinths in the cocoa-brown water in the river next to our table. It turns out they were waiting there for lunch as well. Soon, two men began throwing what looked like small pieces of fruit and what were possibly fish pellets into the water from a small covered platform situated over the water at right angle to the table at which we sat. Soon the water was boiling with literally tons of open, whiskered mouths gulping at the food. For my part, I was enjoying what we were served and tried to show slightly better table manners. After both we and the carp were sated, we walked back to the royal district to visit the nearby Grand Palace and Wat Phra Kaew while the carp swam off to Buddha-knows where. Wat Phra Kaew is the most revered Buddhist shrine in Thailand and is ornamented commensurately. The entire exterior of the main building is covered in gold and blue and mirrored mosaic tile. Many other structures are similarly covered in mosaics others entirely in gold while others in mosaics of colored glass. The overall effect is quite spectacular. The Catholics may have the corner on the stained-glass market but the Buddhists really do up the color.
Properly touristed out, we headed back to the hotel where the oldest and the youngest of the party crashed out while Zachary and I hosted Mark Goodman, his Thai family, and Gwenyth for dinner. They chose a local restaurant featuring karaoke. The place was only about one-third full but there was no lack of people lining up to take their turn at the mic. Everyone would clap as someone started singing, possibly for their astute musical selection as talent seemed not to be a material issue. The meal was overall very enjoyable but one is always struck by the differences from home, hence the interest of travel I suppose. For example, from my vantage near the window, I was noticing how the massive amount of dirty dishes for the corner restaurant across the small side street were done by hand by one woman squatting over tubs of soapy water on the sidewalk. Similarly, while there was a small kitchen in the back of the restaurant, much of the cooking was done at a large metal stove on the street at the other side of the establishment.