After some seriously long greyhound journeys in the States our 2 1/2 hour plane flight to San Jose seemed very short indeed. The first port of call was San Jose downtown which acts as a main hub for public travel throughout the country. The cheeky bus driver thought he could get away with short changing Nic by about £10 so I stepped up with my ‘extensive’ Spanish vocabulary…..’No, Amigo’ while pointing to the measly 5 cents he had given us as change. His blank face told me I needed to do better. I went off to consult the Spanish phrase book and it paid off as we got the result we deserved…our money! Nic had found the arrival to Costa Rica a little over whelming and was fairly quiet for about an hour!
Some further shenanigans later and we finally arrived at our hostel. Once we had dumped our bags in our room the friendly owner Carlos helped us with our travel plans for our adventures soon to come (and also a little Spanish!) We chilled around the pool that evening and prepared our journey to Puerto Viejo de Talamanca the following day.
The bus journey was a crazy experience. Our driver was super nuts, over taking on blind corners and over taking just about anything he could - the record for the journey was 3 arctic lorries in a row! A little nerve racking to say the least, especially with steep drops either side of the road.
It was all worth it once we arrived… Puerto Viejo, what a town!! Coconut palm fringed black sand beaches, tasty food and friendly locals! By this time Nic had begun to settle in to Costa Rican life just fine!
The area is predominantly an Afro Caribbean community and Jamaicans were originally brought over to work on the banana plantations. For over 50 years these communities lived in racial segregation, forced to live independantly from the rest of the country. Infrastructure: roads, electricity and telelphone communications were not built until some time after 1949 when the racial borders fell. The result is a community and culture different and independant to that of the rest of Costa Rica.
We stayed in a lovely cabina with it’s very own tropical garden, a great place to view hummingbirds as they shot from one flower to another. The cabinas had a resident cat, a species which I have now seen in a new light… they are not quite as lame as I once thought they were. We were lucky to secure the cabina as the area was very busy with people coming to enjoy the New Year on the coast, just like us.
We spent the day admiring the town and stocking up on our goodies for New Years Eve….namely a bottle of Nicaraguan rum! And what better way to spend New Years Eve than on Playa Negra, the spectacular black sand beach of Puerto Viejo?! The celebrations were awesome. We went to a reggae bar that backed on to the beach and got involved with the locals and tourists alike. The locals were lighting some pretty big fireworks from their hands…whilst drunk on rum of course! We woke up in the early hours of the morning after passing out in our hammocks to find that Nic had been bitten a total of 28 times by mosquitoes!! That’ll teach us! We spent New Years Day recovering and enjoying some hammock and beach time.
With only 1 day left in Puerto Viejo we decided to go on a little adventure. We hired 2 rickety bikes and rode 12km to a small town called Manzanillo, passing a number of beautiful beaches along the way.
The heavens opened along the way and it rained so hard we were drenched in minutes. It was surprisingly refreshing though! We treated ourselves with an ice cold drink in Manzanillo at Max’s, one of the popular local bars on the beach. Nic fell off her bike on the way back as she decided to veer off into the hedge…!! (note from Nic - it was actually because Sup stopped dead in front of me to look at a dog across the road!!) We did have a good giggle about that!!
Puerto Viejo had a decent range of snack food and drinks, my favourite being the following: Mashed yucca plant stuffed with mince inside and fried in a thin layer of batter. I have also become a fan of meat sticks, Empanadas (meat or cheese wrapped in corn bread), Costa Rican pizza (which has about 10 times more cheese than pizzas in England!) and a drink called Heil made from sugar cane and ginger which as I have found is the perfect blend of ingredients.
The local nickname for the drink is the less tasty sounding ‘Frog Water’, due to the murky colour! These tasty treats are always accompanied by a bottle of piccante (hot sauce), as you know I love my hot sauce and have finished quite a few bottles along the way!
Cannabis was smoked openly in Puerto Viejo despite being illegal in the whole country. It did seem to be a way of life for many of the locals and I think it will always be for them.
We did get approached by a number of dealers who make a living selling to tourists. We were also approached by this fella… he was the biggest crab we have ever seen!
Next up on our itinerary was a town just North of Puerto Viejo called Cahuita.The National Park in the area was the main reason to visit and the amount of monkeys we saw just at the park entrance (as well as this crazy parrot
that spoke English, Spanish and a little Spanglish as well as having the most insane laugh) promised to be the start of good things to come.
Walking through the slim trail with the crashing coastline to the left and the jungle backdrop to our right, we found many secluded beaches and at times it felt like we were a million miles away from civilisation.
We saw this cheeky White Faced Capuchin monkey who almost succeeded in taking someone’s food! People have been feeding the monkeys which over time has taught them some very bad habits and they have learnt not to fear humans, but rather to scam them in order to steal whatever they can in the way of food!….speaking of which…Racoons.
We did see a cute family of racoons and naively we put our lunch bag down on the floor to take a photo and within seconds it was gone! Now we had been walking for 8km and at the time we were actually looking for a place to eat lunch. I had built up quite an appetite and while Nic found it hilarious that racoons stole our food, it did take me a little while to see the funny side!
We were also lucky to spot a sloth hanging out in the tree….that is one animal which is well suited to the laid back vibe of the Caribbean coast!
Cahuita had a great bar and few little Sodas (family run restaurants, usually their home) although we did find that not all grocery stores were as welcoming to tourists as Puerto Viejo. More of an excuse to eat out!
However, the dogs did give us a big welcome and they were particularly attracted to Nic. She would give them a little affection and then they would follow us around all night (and she named them too!). Our very own pets abroad!
I’ll leave you with one of my favourite photos. It has occurred to us that it would have been useful to take a short spanish course before we left, however, we are still attempting to speak spanish and it’s the trying that counts, right?! My initial impression of Costa Rica was that it appeared to be an amazing country, it felt like one big adventure playground waiting to be explored. The hardest decision was where exactly to start, which i’m sure you will agree was definitely not a bad situation to be in.
Our company provided the following summary of Varanasi, which we want to pass on to you all:
“Picturesquely situated on the crescent shaped left bank of the holy River Ganges, Varanasi, is one of the ancient seats of learning in India. It is said to be a compound of the names of two streams, the Varuna and the Assi, which still flow into the Ganges from the north and south of the city respectively. Varanasi is probably one of the most ancient living cities in India. From time immemorial it has been a great religious center for Hindus and one of their most sacred places of pilgrimage, being visited by millions of people every year. To every visitor Varanasi offers a breathtaking experience. The rays of the dawn shimmering across the Ganges; the high-banks; the temples and shrines along the banks bathed in a golden hue …soul stirring hymns and mantras along with the fragrance of incense (and smoke) filling the air…and the refreshing dip in the holy waters gently splashing at the Ghats. Baths in the Ganges are suggested for locals only! Varanasi abounds in the art of silk weaving, an exotic work of art which manifests itself in silk saris and silk brocades which are cherished as collector’s items across the world today. “ To sum it up…an amazing place to experience.
The security at the airport in Delhi (in India generally) is much more strict. You are checked before you even enter the airport and multiple times on the way to the plane. There is a final check just before boarding of your carry on baggage. Our flight to Varanasi was filled with tourists. There were probably only 10 or so Indian people onboard. Arriving in Varanasi, we got a taste of what an ‘authentic’ Indian transportation hub might be like. There was very little security and the terminal is common for departures and arrivals, with nothing more than one counter, a few bathrooms and a luggage belt that is only 20’ long. It was frustrating and funny to watch people scramble to get their luggage from the belt before it landed on the floor in the mountain of luggage piling up at the end of the short belt. It really seemed like all the tourists were scared someone was going to run away with their luggage.
After being met by our guide and driver we dropped off our luggage at the Hotel Hindustan International. The hotel was dated to say the least. We were a little surprised by the dirty sheets and blood stained wall (from squished mosquitoes it looked like). We were alright with the hotel, it was the one recommended by all of the Indian travel companies that we received quotes from. Varanasi is one of the most unique and amazing places we have seen, and you have to take the good along with the bad. A few minutes later we were on our way.
Our first stop was the Bharat Mata Temple (Mother India), built in the early 1900’s. The temple features a big relief map of India and surrounding countries engraved in marble. The map is to scale and is nearly 100% accurate to the best maps of that day. Our next stop was the 18th century Durga Temple, commonly known as the Monkey Temple due to the huge population of the monkeys. In recent years the monkeys have been pushed out of the area by the local people. The monkeys have found a much better life in the rooftops of the town rather than in the temple. Now instead of scavenging for scraps, they sneak into people’s homes and steal food straight out of their cupboards and refrigerators. The Durga temple was previously closed to non-Hindu’s however the priests of the temple have opened it up for foreigners, as long as a donation is made. This was our first chance to get a Tikka, or a Hindu good luck blessing (red or colored dot on the forehead between your eyes). However, as Non-Hindu’s we abstained from this blessing because we felt doing it wouldn’t be right. It’s a bit weird to see tourists walking around with Tikkas on their foreheads and at some attractions even with turbans on; we don’t quite get it and therefore don’t partake.
We drove through the BHU University campus, which is considered the biggest residential university in Asia. There are over 36,000 students living on the university grounds. The grounds are huge and also extremely clean compared to the real world outside of the University gates. Inside of the university we visited the Mosque of Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb, where we were again unable to take photographs.
The end of our night was a trip down to Daswamedh Ghat. This is one of the main religious areas on the Ganges, where people make pilgrimages and are blessed by the local priests who sit along the banks of the river. In the evening, a special show is performed (admittedly for tourists our guide said). The show consists of ceremonious chants, rhythmic movements with fire and incense. The normal religious ceremony that this show mimics is supposed to be very plain.
The next morning we were up early to head back to the Daswamedh Ghat for a morning river cruise of the Ganges. We were glad that we bought new sweaters and jackets for this leg of our trip. The temperature at 06:00 when we left the hotel was only 13-15 degrees and there was a strong breeze blowing over the water. The sight is simply majestic. You are truly in another world here. We saw the cremation Ghats and witnessed the living traditions of one of the world’s oldest religions. Thousands of faithful come daily to the banks to bathe and pray while in the background, temples and palaces rise in tiers from the water’s edge. After the boat ride we walked through tiny winding cobblestone streets along the banks of The Ganges. The shops were just opening, and the place now turned into a beehive of activity as the faithful are coming and going. A few hundred meters from the Ganges is the Kashi Vishwanath Temple. This site is disputed between the Hindus and Muslims as there is a Hindu temple and a mosque built upon the ruins of an ancient Hindu temple. This site is one of the 3 most holy sites in India that is disputed between Hindus and Muslims. Due to terrorist activities at one of these sites the security for a large area around this site is strongly protected with many guards. We entered the restricted area and had to give up all potentially dangerous goods (anything electronic, all bags, any liquids, even pens). Then we had to go through metal detectors (which are common everywhere) and a physical search (males get searched by males and females only by females). Once inside there were guards stationed every 15-20 meters. The experience was topped off with not even being able to go into the temple or the mosque. However, our guide knew someone inside who sold essential oils, funny how that works. We bought some oils because the prices were much lower than what we would have paid in Canada. We still think we were ripped off, hahaa.
After our morning Ganges visit we were back at the hotel for breakfast before heading outside of the city to Sarnath, home of the first preaching of the Buddha. Later, Ashoka, the great Mauryan Emperor erected magnificent stupas and other buildings along with his mighty stone pillar, Dharmarajika Stupa. The 110 ft. tall Damekh Stupa marks the place where Buddha preached first sermon. The stupa was never destroyed as it was built over successive generations from solid brick and was too difficult to tear down. Despite the beginnings of Buddhism in India, there only remains ~1% of the population who practices. The Mughal Empire and Hindu aristocracy feared the non-hierarchical structure that Buddhism taught. This eventually stripped away the rights and privileges that this class structure provided them and the religion was forced out of the country. After our visit to Sarnath, we were back to the hotel for a night of relaxing. We walked around a bit after getting dropped off and noticed how much the Indian people were staring at us, we’re not the typical couple around these parts. Chad is way to tall and Ewa is way too white, a match made in heaven. For Indians it is something out of the movies, they don’t fathom that people like us exist, only in the movies maybe, and so when they see us they stare…big time
We were off to the railway station to for our train to Agra. We were told that we were lucky, the train was only 1.25 hours late, the same train had been consistently 10-14 hours late in the past weeks!
Kia Ora, everyone! After 30+ hours of travel, I finally made it out of the Land of the Morning Calm and into Auckland, New Zealand. After a few days in Auckland to shake the jet lag and get my feet on the ground again, I headed north to Paihia in the beautiful Bay of Islands.
A little history: back in the 1800s, Paihia was the main whaling port for the European powers that were in the South Pacific. Thus, all the sailors and various unsavories stopped off here every few weeks, and naturally, a degenerate crowd grew to call the place home. For some time, it’s nickname was, in fact, “the hellhole of the pacific.” Locals love to report that back then, the only establishment with a higher gross income than the brothels were the pubs, and even then, only just. These days, it’s quite a bit more calm in the bay. Over 144 islands to explore at my leisure! And explore them I did.
For the first bit, I was still attempting to get over the reverse culture shock of leaving Asia. It took a bit to get out of my Korea Shell, but soon enough, I took up with an English lad who was thrilled to have found himself traveling with an American Girl. (Which makes…one of him. The general reaction to my nationality is a sort of disappointed look, and then some sort of comment along the lines of, “why can’t you just be more like your older brother, Canada…he never seems to get into trouble like you…” Well, sorry for all the muck-ups, folks, it’s really not my fault.) Anyway. That first day, I lazed about on the beach. The weather’s been lovely, especially after coming from dead winter in Seoul. The next day, I went on a little cruise and saw my first dolphins! Turns out my aquatic photography skills leave quite a lot to be desired, so I abandoned the attempt and just watched them frolic. One word: CUTE.
Next day, I went for a little paddle and explored the various inlets and coves throughout the bay. It felt good to be out in a kayak again–first time in a year! I also went for a little coastal walk, which afforded plenty of good photos. Unfortunately, I left my cable in my room, so you don’t get to see them this time around.
Long story short, it’s gorgeous here, I love it, people are unbelievably friendly (even the bus dirvers say, “Have a lovely day, darling!”) and I may never come home. Well, at the least, I know where I’m retiring.
Despite the fact I worked New Years Eve I still managed to have a wicked night though I probably shouldn’t have acepted EVERY shot offered to me or at least stopped when my basic motor functions began to deteriorate and the ability to swallow left me.
It was a fun night though with Family Bar’s fashionably late countdown (trust the homos, late for everything as they finish straightening their hair and touching up their make up) and I managed to escape early and stumble to Ponsonby with my mate Suz to watch the Sunrise on the new decade.
Most of 2009 sucked like a $2 whore but I know 2010 is going to be awesome. As the sun rose over my adopted city I made just one new years resolution; To do whatever I damn well please.
So apparently Queenstown isn’t all about jumping off stuff or out of things. No, really, it’s possible to visit to NZ’s adventure capital and leave with your adrenalin levels at a level your heart doctor would approve of and your internal organs where you left them.
My best mate in Auckland, Rohan (affectionatly known as Rosie), was going to Queenstown to chill out for a couple of nights and press the reset button and he needed someone to go with. I hadn’t seen my reset button in a while. It was probably rusty from the lack of pressing and living and working on one of the noisiest road in Auckland wasn’t doing anything for my stress levels so off I went to the south island to gaze wistfully at snowcapped mountains and think about skiing. Only think about it, mind, I’m quite fond of my teeth where they area and my face the shape it is.
So here’s your cut out and keep guide to surviving Queenstown with your nerves intact.
ONE: Stay at the Crowne Plaza because Rosie doesn’t do shared dorms. I’m not used to accommodation that supplies towels and has housekeeping and Sky TV in the bedrooms with a remote control that works. At the places I stay we’re lucky if someone hasn’t stolen the TV from the shared area but here we had a double bed each, ideal for reclining on as one sips cheap bourbon from the 1.5 litre plastic bottle. Yep, I reckon with practice I can achieve the level of class I know I’m capable of; just slightly above the gutter.
TWO: Instead of standing at the edge of a platform 134 metres above a canyon with your feet bound together with velcro or hanging out of a plane at 15000 feet with a man called Dave strapped to your back, if you want to be high up why not take the gondolas instead? Much more relaxing and doesn’t require that you pack a change of undies.
We headed to the top and I actually had to walk past a bungy jump, The Ledge.
Walk. Past.
Do you know how hard that was? I SO wanted to do it but my budget said no. Actually my budget openly laughed at me, slapped me round the chops and told me to go for a luge ride instead so we did which I managed to do without adding to my fine collection of scars.
A cup of tea later and it was back down the hill by gondola to discuss the possibility of starting a knitting circle or a bridge club or something else that reflected our new found calm on our return to Auckland.
THREE: Fergburger. You can’t visit Queenstown without at least one burger from there. Of course, if you’re on a relaxation kick it’s best to avoid the Big Al and settle for something smaller and less dangerous to your intestines, a burger that perhaps doesn’t fight back when you attempt to bite into it.
FOUR: Ahh, the Shotover Jet, a rip roaring ride up the Shotover river complete with 360 degree spins and uncomortably close encounters between your head and sharp rocks. If one were an adrenaline junkie as opposed to a classier act that stays in establishments such as the Crowne Plaza one would embark on this jet of which they speak and get those juices flowing, most probably out through their anus. Me and Rohan, however, much prefered to sit in a vat of hot water and watch the action from afar from the Onsen Hot Pools.
Fuck. Yes. Totally and utterly worth a visit, they even pick you up from town and drop you back off afterwards, fabulous for those that shudder at the idea of public transport.
That was possibly one of the most needed mini breaks I’d ever been on. Me and reality don’t get on very well together, this Normal Life thing, although it’s made me heaps of fantastic friends and I really do love Auckland as my home, normality has a way of driving me insane and I need to escape and press the reset button. I think we all do. Everyone needs to take that time out to just stop, take mental stock of whats going on in your life and your head, reevaluate if neccessary and refocus on your goals and what’s really important to you.
Well that’s my excuse for travelling and damnit, I’m sticking to it.
We took a train up to Gokarn, and arrived safely after a day’s travel. After battling touts who wanted to charge us 400 rupees to get to the beach, we landed in the sand with our heavy backpacks, and set out to find a place to stay. Backpacking on a beach in barefeet… in the dark. Only in India. Well, possibly not ONLY in India, but it was an experience none the less.
We got a beach hut at a little place called Dolphin right on the middle point of Om Beach. Om beach is so named because it looks like the Om symbol - kind of like the number 3. They set us up in a hut with a sand floor, walls made of woven palm leaves, and a bamboo skeleton. It had a fan, light and powerpoint, so everything we needed. They rebuild these huts every year after the monsoon. Not very soundproof, but they’re right on the beach, and I woke up to the sound of the surf every day.
Gokarn is still a pretty undeveloped place. It’s got about 7 restaurants along the whole beach, and each one has a selection of these coco huts. Other than that, there are no shops or anything, and there’s only (recent) road access to one end of the beach. I doubt it’ll last this way for long though. Apparently Varkala was like that 10 years ago, and now look at it! We’ve spent our days on the beach, reading and swimming. Despite piling on layers of sunscreen and keeping to the shade except to dry off from swimming, I’ve managed to get burnt almost every day we’ve been here. Sigh. But I’m looking scarily brown for me! My fair dutch skin is slowly looking a normal shade of tan. Who would have thought!
Glen and I went for a walk south along the hills and beaches, and ended up in a place called Paradise Beach. And man, it really is paradise down there. There’s no road, so you can only get there by the small track (which requires you to rock hop a good distance) or by getting one of the local fishermen who sit around Om Beach to drop you down there. There are two restaurants which rent huts or hammocks for people to sleep in. It’s only a tiny beach, about 20m across, and bordered by boulders. But it’s beautiful. The pictures I have just don’t do it justice. The atmosphere there was amazing too - some people seem to stay the entire tourist season, and know the locals well. Wish we’d found the place earlier, and spent a few nights there. Sadly, time was running out on us, so it wasn’t worth the effort of getting our packs down there. Still, we passed on the word to people arriving in Om Beach.
The food here is awesome too. We heard on our first night that the place to eat was called Dragon, situated at the far south of the beach. They had fresh fish brought in that afternoon, cold Kingfisher beer, and an old charcoal bbq. We got grilled tiger prawns, and kingfish tikka. Amazing. Soooo good. And you could never replicate it back home, because half the flavour came from that bbq.
Today we head inland to Hampi on an overnight bus which we’ve repeatedly heard is death. People have told us that it’s like travelling 13hrs down a very unkempt dirt road. They’ve told us that their bus has crashed on the journey (and that this seems to be unnervingly common). They’ve told us to take the train at all costs. Still, the trains were booked out, and everyone says that Hampi is worth it. So we’re getting the overnight bus tonight. Needless to say, we don’t expect to sleep.
See ya’ll on the other side!
The past two weeks I have felt so excited and anxious about getting out of the cold and hitting some beaches down under. Those plans vanished when my boss presented our crew with the opportunity to work for an additional month. No one took the bait except for me and two others. I figured I needed the extra money because I don’t have a job lined up when I get back to the States. And I know I am going to travel the nations until my wallet tells me to go home. That equals a recipe for trouble so I thought I would earn an extra month to supplement my expenses. I also applied to work at McMurdo Base next year and thought this will be a good way to gauge if I would like to return or not. I could choose between here and the Pole. At McMurdo, the carpenters go on helicopters and small airplanes into remote locations to set up field camps for scientists. What better way to experience Antarctica than to camp on a glacier that no one has ever set foot upon.
So here I sit at McMurdo Base. I felt a lot mixed emotions today seeing all of my friends and coworkers boarding the airplane that would have dropped me off back in civilization. I hugged everyone and exchanged a few emails before I didn’t want to be in the cold anymore and turned around for warmth of the station. The other two guys who were originally going to work with me here, both boarded the plane to Christchurch as well. Each of them will winter over at different bases on the continent and were taking a week off before reporting to their respective locations. So here I sit alone once again.
Only McMurdo has about 6 times the station population that the South Pole does. The computer lab displays fewer computers for use and there is a 20 minute time limit. So although I now have 24 hour a day internet access it will still be a pain in the ass to use the computers. The temperature here is about 55 degrees warmer than what I have become accustomed to. I’ll be working inside too, from what I understand. If only I knew where to go. When the plane landed, I was dumped off and waited around for a shuttle bus to pick me up. The airstrip, just minutes from the base when I came here in November, no longer exists. The warm air melted all the snow, so instead of flags and runway, there is now a shimmering body of water. McMurdo is actually on an island in the middle of the Ross Sea. The shuttle bus driver quipped that the ride back to base would be 40 minutes.
That confused me, until I asked why. Minutes later I saw with my own two eyes. The same flat, white, sterile scene I have looked at day in and day out for three months vanquished and before me erupted 10,000 foot mountain peaks, bays of water, and volcanic rock forming hillsides. Once we got to McMurdo I noticed the complete lack of snow on the ground and even saw a guy walking around in shorts. Don’t think it’s warm; it’s still only twenty degrees as I type. But twenty feels down right pleasant after working in negative 55 wind-chill for the past week. I saw the first bird I’ve seen in three months glide in huge circles above me as I stared mesmerized. Soon I saw another and then another. I walked closer towards the water hoping perhaps to spot some penguins and seals. I saw neither so I wandered back to a main building.
I still didn’t know where my room was, where I was supposed to be working tomorrow, what time to be there, where my bags were or anything. I ate dinner in the galley looking around at all the new faces, but trying not to be too obvious that I was a newbie. I finally went to the general store and asked the clerk where I should go to find my room. She told me where housing was located and found an envelope with my name and key inside, dangling on one of several small hooks attatched to the door. They had been closed since the time I arrived. I huffed up a hill to the cargo area and grabbed my bags before heading to my room, complete with new roommate. Our beds are two feet apart. This should be interesting. I haven’t met him yet but from the looks of his bags, he’s from Arizona.
So as one door in my life closes, others open, and those will open more. I feel privileged and honored to have worked at the South Pole. I know most people at this base would like to even just take a photo next to the pole marker. I felt sad leaving today, even though I have been looking forward to the moment for some time. I said goodbye to friends I became quite close with. I’ll miss their smiles and laughs, their sense of adventure, and our relationship. And while I will undoubtedly see some again, others I know, I just crossed paths with for a brief moment in each of our weird and wonderful stories.
Lastly, we visited the palace of the King’s late mother at Doi Tung. She spent much of her life in this palace, where she was instrumental in getting the local farmers to stop growing opium and planting fruits, vegetables and coffee instead. Her palace gardens are open to the public, and are a very popular place for picnicing and paying respects to the very popular former resident.
Well, that’s all from Northern Thailand, I’ll start up with new posts after the big New Year’s Eve celebration here in Sydney. Happy new year everyone!
We also visited Chiang Saen, which calls for a bit more history of Lanna (sorry!). When the Thai tribes first came down from China into modern day Thailand, around 500 AD, Chiang Saen was the first settlement. The Thais quickly fragmented into lots of feuding kingdoms, and Chiang Saen was a bit of a backwater. But around 1200 AD, Chiang Saen’s king surprised all his neighbors by annexing all of them to form the kingdom of Lanna. The city of Chiang Saen was rewarded for all this hard work by having the capital of Lanna moved to the new city of Chiang Mai, so Chiang Saen promptly slid back into obscurity. Today, it sits on the Mekhong River, well off the tourist path and well worth a visit. The current town sort of lies on top of the ancient capital, so you have ruined temples jutting out of someone’s rice paddy or behind their House, for example. But there are plenty of ruins abandoned in the jungle. They’re small but quite atmospheric. As per above, I have lots more and better pics from my recent visit, but it will take me many years to eventually catch up to posting that.
I think I’m going to stop experimenting with multipicture posts. My first attempt turned the text orange in the first Chiang Rai post. (pardon the intrusion from 2010, but just ignore these various formatting comments; they relate to the old blog and die out pretty soon. I’m just too lazy to reedit all the text.) And I see that the last Chiang Mai post managed to fit all three pictures in by squeezing my sentences into two letter lines between pics, not really the aesthetic I was going for. We did some sightseeing around the Golden Triangle. Actually, our last trip before we left Thailand to move to Sydney was also to the Golden Triangle, staying at a great new resort, so I’ll be brief here since the pics from the latest trip are much better. This is Mae Sai, a border town connected by bridge to the Burmese town of [[Myanmar-(Burma)/Tachilek]],
probably misspelled. Both towns are hectic, messy affairs dominated by the business of smuggling Thai and other imported goods into Burma. This is one of the few border crossings, crossing the Mekhong River. It’s frequently closed due to border hostilities, but when it’s open, it’s very bustling.
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