For the week prior to last monday I had been travelling with a women
whom i met at the Lopburi (monkey town) train station. Thereza is a
Czech citizen living in London. She had been working as a graphic
artist and designer there for three years before taking a one year
vacation. Much of Thereza's work was for fashion magazines- Elle and
crap like that. Can anyone reading this imagine me spending like 100
consecutive hours (minus separate bed time) with a cultured
fashionista? Perhaps owing to her previous nine months of travel, we
havesomething in common- we are both really cheap at present.
The
two of us rented bicycles on Sunday. They were identical vintage
looking Raleighs- to me, an essential part of the picture of the
suburbs and nuclear families of the 50's. The bell and the basket help
to complete this picture, but i myself ruin it- mostly on account of my
long hair, stupid grin and the inevitable gangle factor. The bike
actually seemed to fit Thereza, both aesthetically and physically. The
price worked for both of us anyways- something like 90 cents each for a
days riding.
As every tourist to Asia must so often do, we set
off to see the Wats (temples) of the surrounding area. First we rode
out of the walled city of Chiang Mai, across the 'river' and along the
college campus to a dirt road leading to Wat Umong. Wat Umong was
recommended by some fellow tourists due to its 'creepy fasting
Buddha'. At this complex of temples in the woods, there was indeed a
sculpture of a fasting buddha- it was somewhat stylized, but remarkably
true to what images i have seen of starvation- as well as a series of
artificial caves for meditations and a network of paths through the
forest where trees were decorated with various truisms. We left Wat
Umong and decided to try to visit the one Wat that looked really really
great.
We couldn't see this Wat, really, except as a white speck which appeared and reappeared through the clouds
on top of the highest mountain visible. Really really great idea. As
luck or fate would have it, we came upon a row of taxis offering rides
to Wat Doi Suthep. It would be stupid to rent two bicycles for a day
only to lock them at the bottom of a beautifully forested mountain for
3 hours- on this we agreed. Thereza bargained and i grinned- it would
work so well. The taxis hear are sometimes- as these were- small
trucks with vaulted canopies and two benches facing each other. In
time, Thereza succeeded in getting us and our bikes a decent one-way
fare to the top.
There were two thai men in the back of the
truck with us on the way up, one (unnecessarily) hanging outside of the
truck, both grinning at us every so often as continued to climb and
curve up a narrow mountain road for what seemed a very long time.
Thereza and I had time to consider and reconsider the prudence of our
decision. We said things like, 'i don't see anybody else riding back
down on bicycles.', 'my travelers insurance information is written in
the back of my green book' and 'i wonder if these brake pads are
combustible'. At the top, seeing no proper bicycle parking, we
nonchalantly left our cruisers locked up with the motorbikes.
The view from Doi Suthep could be incredible. You could
see forever if not for the haze of pollution hanging over Chiang Mai
and the entire valley below. We were able to recognize the small old
walled city of Chiang Mai and so see approximately where we started.
The
grounds of Doi Suthep were really memorable. To get to the temples you
walk up over 300 stairs. At the top of the stairs you find a sea of
abandoned shoes, add your shoes to the chaos and buy a ticket. Like
Doi Suthep, most of the temples of northern Thailand have been really
bright and vividly painted. Adding to the impression of the shining
gold, orange and reds is the tropical environment- vibrant flowers,
vast green trees and blue skies. At this temple, children lined up to
play with a huge ancient looking bell and every Buddhist lit incense.
Around
the walls of the compound, separated by statues of the buddha were
murals depicting his life, from birth to enlightenment. I walked
around the whole courtyard, looking at each of the paintings, trying to
make sense of what each one represented or just appreciating it
anyways. I didn't see one other person notice them. Most were getting
their pictures taken in front of statues or a gigantic stupa which was
covered in gold.
With a little over an hour and a half to return
our bicycles and retrieve my passport from the little dot that was the
walled city, we decided it was time to get moving. We gave a mutual
pep talk, which was join by a thai man with almost no english as we
unlocked our bikes. This man checked that both of our bikes had
functioning brakes and returned my gesture of 'downhill on bike' with a
thumbs up and a grin. With that we were off.
It was actually
surprisingly easy on the way down. The lane we shared with all
downhill traffic was too narrow to allow for passing, which was my only
serious worry. I was really happy to find the Thai drivers, in
general, to be much more sane and respectful then their Vietnamese
neighbors. They waited to pass until it was safe and doing so gave us
plenty of room. Thereza and I took a few breaks on the way down- some
wonderful time away from holding onto the brakes for dear life. With
no dysfunction worse than hand cramps, our descent was over and we
continued through Chiang Mai, returning our bikes within minutes of
closing time, and getting every Bahts worth.
I didn't really
intend for this to be an essay on our descent, but its time for me to
eat and so that is just about what it is. That and this: monkey town (Lopburi) is in my opinion the home to the cutest thieving sexual predators of the primate family, and i suggest it as a wonderful place to visit... never to live.
