We went to Northern Thailand to be there, not to do things. One day all we did was go for a walk, watch Nee cook our lunch, then read books until dinner. On another we went to Singha Park, took photos and had a meal. I don’t know, it was like someone — a massive brewery — had taken over the world to wash and iron it for us. That’s not fair. It was like they’d taken the world and turned it into a very expansive garden. It was very nice but I preferred Oi’s.
But still, we visited three temples around Chiang Rai.
The first was Wat Huai Pla Kang, which was an instant reminder of how Thais love exuberant ornamentation. Whenever they erect a structure they seem overwhelmed by the desire to decorate it. And when that’s done, they go back to decorate the decorations — to add some frou-frou. This place should have been called the White Temple but that name was already taken. Erected at the turn of this century, it’s hard to give a sense of its scale. We took the lift, and looked out over the fields and rusty roofs from behind the Buddha’s eyes.
You’d think that if you’d seen one white Thai Buddhist temple you’d seen them all, but we visited a second, the actual “White Temple”, Wat Rong Khun, which ArtReview describes as looking like it’s been dusted in icing sugar. You enter its art gallery and gawp at the “ethereal baubles and confections” of its creator, the artist Chalermchai Kositpipat, born in 1955.
Our third temple was Wat Phra Kaew, in the centre of town, dating back to the 14th century. Truly beautiful, it felt less exuberant, more serene and serious. The strange eclectic museum was in a dark, two storey timber building, filled with everything from centuries-old manuscripts and artefacts to 19th century military regalia. The gardens and street planting reflected more of what we love about this part of the world.
That’s it, we said. No more temples. Not unless we feel like it
Nee told us not to miss the best Khaosoi restaurant in town. Its shtick is in its name, Khaosoi 100 Year. It claims to have been around for a century and to cook from the original family recipe.
It wasn’t just the rich, meaty noodles, but everything around them. Several courses, aromatic, fresh and delicious, elegantly presented.
Everything about it was charming, from the proud man who served us to the motor scooter parked next to our table, and the kittens near our feet.
We drove north for the day to the Golden Triangle, where the Ruak joins the Mekong, and a sliver of Myanmar wedges itself between Thailand and Laos. Once this place lived in our imaginations as a forbidden stronghold of warlords and opium, with the Mekong overcast by an aura of war, American patrol boats and the threat of gunfire from the jungle banks.
Crime and opium doubtless remain, but Chiang Saen is now a bustling little market town and a tourist destination. We wandered around and ate lunch at a nice place overlooking the river. I took photos of boats on the river, and the ominous Chinese Special Economic Zone going up over in Laos.
“Sin City” is thriving now that China has clamped down on gambling, even in Macao, and the gamblers and their accompanying vices need to look elsewhere.
On the way home we stopped for one more temple, the ancient Wat Chedi Luang, dating back to 1344.
