A tour of Thailand has got to be pretty high on anybody’s ideal holiday list and for many; the easy way to do this is as a package through virtually any high-street tour operator. Whilst guaranteeing viewing the highlights of this dramatically diverse kingdom and a whetting of appetites in regards of culture, what they won’t provide is a real feel for the country and its people. Many tourists, on the whole are relatively happy with what their tour provides, do have the occasional grumble about a shortage of time being allotted to fully appreciate the many attractions that are often crammed into an all too short itinerary. Seldom, if ever, are the punters really allowed to halt the bus and spontaneously capture those picture perfect scenes or alight and explore some of the lesser-known attractions that constantly flash them by.
Having lived in Thailand for a number of years and set to depart for pastures greener (hopefully) what really appealed was a journey that would provide a little of the familiar, a lot of the unknown and an experience of the unusual. This could be achieved, I felt, by the freedom that a car allows. It was a journey stacked high in hope and expectation, and one that proved not to let me down!
So, with an itinerary in mind and a car hired with ease, I left Bangkok in the wee hours of the morn, departing early to avoid the bottle-necked traffic jams that Bankokians have learned to endure.
Four hours later I found myself in the quiet provincial town of Kampeng Phet, a small town nestled on the banks of the Ping River. Here you can amble at leisure amongst ruins aplenty, most dating some 500 years. The sheer tranquility of the ruins, the manicured lawns and neat little hedge ways made Bangkok and all its obstacles a near forgotten blur. It was like a dream come true, aided by a lack of crowds the fact that no other Westerners were there made me realise that Kampeng Phet wasn’t on the tourist route. But that doesn’t mean there’s not much to see. The Old City, its ruins and the National Museum were particularly interesting. Cheap food and reasonably priced simple hotels make Kampeng Phet an easy place to spend a night if you’re heading north, which I was, after a little diversion east the next day.
Now driving on snaking roads and crawling up steep hills comes as quite a shock after months of confinement in Bangkok’s flat unbroken vista but the winding tree-lined road that slowly took me east towards Mae Sot would also take me to Mahat Thaksin National Park and Thailand’s largest tree, a 700year old krabach.
The park unsurprisingly was deserted bar me and the handful of rangers that protect and help preserve this large national park and with a little help from one of them, I soon located the path that dipped down into a hot and humid jungle where black, Asiatic bears still roam. The ravines steep sides were covered by dense forest and abundant undergrowth which still couldn’t conceal the mighty goliath that soon came into view. Fifty metres high and with a sixteen metre girth this monster truly belonged in Jurassic Park. It was awesome. Time stood still in its presence creating an eerie silence, bar distant woops of monkeys feasting merrily on forest fruits, which filled the dank, heavy air. The twenty minute trek was less difficult than some of the fights I’ve experienced walking along Bangkok’s busy market streets but the experience was definitely more rewarding. My next stop was the nearby San Lang Waterfall. Great scenery, nature at its most impressive and once again, not another single tourist in sight, I was at one with the world but I knew this wasn’t going to be for long. Sukothai, and familiar ground, was beckoning me once again.
Now you can never say you’re truly alone at Sukothai and in a way, admiring this world heritage sites’ magnificent ruins, moats, manicured lawns and unforgettable charm is an experience probably best shared and but by doing this on a bicycle, hopping on and off at the many temples that are closely grouped together, allows your day to be taken at a most welcome and leisurely pace.
A paved road winds round the many wats, each housing something different; laterite prangs, columns, seated and standing Buddha’s, large and small chedi’s, all decorated individually, some adorned with stone frieze’s depicting scenes of worshipping monks whilst others house rows of elegantly restored elephants imposingly standing guard conspire to make Sukothai a photographers dream. If the day, its sights, scenes and experiences weren’t already etched forever in your mind, then a night in Sukothai will only compound the fact all the more that it really is a great place to stay, boasting up-market hotels, fine restaurants where you can experience a more traditional type of food whilst watching local dancers, dressed in traditional costumes, give cultural and ceremonial performances to an eager and appreciative audience. Needless to say, Sukothai, though both familiar and very popular, is one of Thailand’s must see/must do experiences and one that I wanted to experience once more before leaving.
An hour North of Sukothai lies Sisatchanalai. Now one can be forgiven for ignorantly thinking this historical park will only offer more of Sukothai’s sights and style and this is true, the obvious similarity in the ruins is there for all to see, but what I didn’t expect to find was myself being the only person there bar a rather elderly, tired-looking elephant and its even older, more-wrinkled mahout hoping to sell some black, rather sorry-looking bananas. Needless to say, I bought some and enjoyed the experience of feeding them to the second impressive giant I’d seen so far, he, and his charge, both seemed happier as I strolled off to view the grounds in the late afternoon sun’s golden rays that were slowly losing strength, not unlike the weary old elephant and its mahout in their fight against time. As I strolled around the grounds, climbed amongst the ruins and captured my sights on film, I suddenly felt a calm fall over me that I could only attribute to the peace and serenity of this once famous, but seemingly now forgotten, special place. The site is certainly not as well preserved or restored as Sukothai’s fantastic ruins but somehow, it seems to offer so much more. The sheer tranquility, its peacefulness, its long timeless shadows, its pockets of air where time stands still yet butterflies dance hypnotically all merge into one and create an ambience that’s truly hard to describe.
As I made my rounds, exploring the old ruins at leisure, the slightest tip of a spire caught my eye as it protruded from a ridge of trees to my left. I set off to explore and soon found myself under a cool and welcome canopy of shade provided by ancient trees that groaned in the gentle breeze. I climbed moss covered steps that could tell many a great tale if only they could speak, and found myself on a ridge to the West of the old city. Ruins ran the length of the ridge’s crest and it was here that I discovered views across the River Yom and the flats of the Central Plains that were as spectacular as anywhere in the world. For me, it had been well worth the hours drive to a special place of tranquility and undeniable charm that could so easily lose become tainted overnight if the hordes decided to trample that little bit further North in their quest to find a taste of time gone by. As I left ruins that now stood ominously in the dark shadows created by the near-fallen sun, I knew what I had just seen encompassed, what for me is and always will be, the perfect image of “My Thailand” but once again, it was time to move on, further North for a night in Lampang and still, with the hope, that the best of Thailand was still yet to come.
Now Lampang isn’t the most interesting town to explore but a friend once informed me you can have a pleasant night, good food and be sure to unwind, after a hard days work on your feet, in a pleasant setting beside the river. I duly booked into a moderately priced and reasonably clean hotel and headed straight for the Riverside Restaurant, my friend’s recommendation. He was right. The outside setting was both pleasant and relaxing at the edge of dark waters that slowly ebbed by. I was greeted with a menu much varied and with a mood that screamed silently “chill” which I managed to do with ease.
In the morning, I left Lampang, the gateway to the north; the second leg of my journey was well within reach now. Aided by my trusty steed, the car, I decided to take a slight detour and visit Wat Phra That Lampang Luang, one of the most renowned temples in Northern Thailand. Here I found history in many forms, the buildings - a carved wihan, some 200 years old, that housed a huge Buddha some 800 years in age, a gatehouse dating back to the 15^th century, murals and pillars inlaid with gold dating back to the 16^th century as well as the infamous Bodhi trees that seem as old as time itself. I was also lucky enough to meet a group of friendly young Thais who were keen to show me around, impart their knowledge in a jokey manner whilst practicing English; this was done amidst fits of laughter at my innocent attempts to communicate in Thai
Memories are what make holidays and the friendly banter, thoughts and ideals that we managed to share gave me much to dwell on as I made the long, and often hazardous when wet, journey north to Chiang-Mai. I decided, impulsively as ever and through the freedom that my vehicle allowed, to stop off at Bo Sang, a village famous for umbrellas but little more. In one of the cottage industry type workshops that sold thousands of different styled, sized and coloured umbrellas, I stumbled on a photo of famous visitor that once graced these humble floors not so long ago, Princess Diana, and a large entourage of noticeably shorter Thai dignitaries following her hallowed steps with zeal. It was a familiar face on the outskirts of a familiar town. Chiang-Mai. A large town cum city with temples galore, an exilorating night-market/bazaar, restaurants aplenty, mountains one can climb, elephant treks and raft rides on lazy rivers, an allegedly cooler clime and a definite slower pace of life. All in all, Thailand’s most famous city out of Bangkok, a place of which no-one could tire.
However, not two days later I was on my way again, this time heading north-west to Pie, a quiet little town of clean unpolluted streets giving access to nearby attractions such as hot springs where locals bathe and wallow in waters that bubble down a picturesque hillside to produce an unnaturally warm stream, Tham Pla Cave and its peaceful riverside walks where one can see, feed and view pools of huge carp. Perhaps most impressive of all are the Tham Lod caves and their cool, creepy, cavernous walks that yield a pleasant respite from the hot afternoon sun.
The journey to this region takes you along roads that snake, climb and plunge through vast expanses of mountain forest, and for the few that take this route they will find themselves blessed with countless images of how Thailand, and the world, used to be. Typically, as throughout Thailand, you’ll come across small clusters of road-side stalls selling local fruit, handicrafts, silk and other popular tourist wares. These, I guarantee, will be located in the most amazing precariously placed locations like at the edge of a hazardous mountain bend or upon some death defying ledge making it a “must stop and capture” image that only Thailand can seem to produce. It’s also a good chance to stretch ones legs, admire the view and meet and barter with tribes-folk, usually women and girls, dressed in local garb selling locally made goods with an inquisitive and friendly smile. It’s a three hour journey from Chiang-Mai to Pie, mid-point of my final journeys leg between Chiang-Mai and the rather dreamily named town of Mae Hong Son. Pie proved a welcome stop-off, an interesting little village (more than town) with a busy little late afternoon market where people from neighbouring villages come to sell their wares amidst the small offering of chill out bars and restaurants. It’s also a good place for a foot massage which was much needed after a long and tiring drive. The next morning, the gentle sounds of a river running by and birds singing gaily in the quiet morning air filtered through my bungalows thin wooden walls, Bangkok, its vibrant sounds, smells, hustle and bustle, at last forgotten.
Mae Hong Son, a name of a place that, to me, conjured up countless images of how rural Thailand used to be, it was the place I most wanted to visit from the very first moment I set foot in Thailand some three and a half years before. At last I was here.
It’s hard to believe, as a Westerner, that Mae Hong Son started out as a place where elephants came to bathe and drink; a place that only in the last 40years was reachable, by what we could call, a road and a place, that even to this day, allows ethnic tribes to live and practice their own religious beliefs, language and cultures as they so wish.
Walking around Mae Hong Son, you’ll soon realize this small town is rapidly expanding. Large hotels and an airport flank the outskirts of town but at its centre, you’ll find Chong Kham Lake and a namesake Wat. This scene single-handedly epitimises what Thailand used to be and is the main reasons tourists visit. Early morning, and late afternoon are the best times to see it in all its glory, to appreciate this dream-like scene, to discover its charm, serenity and unparalleled uniqueness, to admire the calm still waters of the lake, to appreciate the old teak houses and their well kept lawns that have stood the test of time, gasp at the bright and breezy fairytale architecture of Wat Chong Kham that dominates this village green, acknowledge in the distance the dark brooding hills that ominously glow in a blood red sky. Together, all these denominators conspire to tell me that life doesn’t get any better than this. My most wanted destination, the small frontier town of Mae Hong Son, perched near Myanmar’s borders has at last been found, my journey was near its end. Just two more ports of call to make tomorrow to a place quite different from the rest. A short drive and then a trek would take me into neighbouring hills to access tribal villages such as Karen, Meo and Padaung, tribes that dot the hills around Mae Hong Son, living in traditional style houses of made of teak or bamboo and thatched roofs.
Here I found a very different way of life. The villagers lived frugally, tilling the fields to grow rice, fruit and vegetables, keeping animals such as boar and chicken for their meat, and dogs I imagined for companionship and security in the dark of night, and here it would be very dark at night. No water or electricity in many of the remote clusters of houses I visited.
High on a hill I visited one of the Meo tribes. The men of the village, I guessed, were at work on terraces that were carved out of the steep hills sides. I met a mix of young and old who greeted me with the same curiosity that I viewed them. The children’s reactions were comical. Some followed me warily, keeping a safe distance but watching what I did, others laughed and interacted without a care in the world while one little boy, standing before his mother wailed loudly when I greeted him in Thai. In doorways of tired little huts young mothers breastfed their young, gazing without concern as I walked them by. At their side some of the elderly women sewed handicrafts that would end up at local markets or as far afield as Bangkok whilst others prepared food for the men that would return later in the day. It was an image of yesteryear, of a lifestyle on the brink of change that was inevitable as I heard the sounds of a generator firing up, the noise coming from a larger house made of concrete and a brand new pick-up parked under the haphazardly made lean-to that was designed to protect. On the roof, a large TV aerial signified that perhaps, already, change had arrived.
Now the “long neck Karen” tribe and village were different again. A pristinely kept village, with a 250 baht entry fee, consisting of two-storey wooden huts selling handicrafts from market style stalls. The women and girls wore their rings with pride, posed happily for photos that they had come to expect and chatted innocently with me in their adopted language of Thai. Most had sneaked over the borders of Myanmar in search of a safer life. Now, dressed immaculately in their tribal clothes, faces adorned with colourful make-up, complexions and teeth to die for, they looked a picture of health.
It had been a long and remarkable journey I’d made, one that covered nearly 1500 kilometres all in all. But here I was, listening to a very demure young lady with an unusually long neck, telling me how she came to exist in this foreign land, of her penchant for coke, how she liked her food hot (phet) and how happy she was. I guess she assumed I felt likewise, it was a question she chose not to ask. But I guess it was obvious as we laughed on the porch of her small wooden hut, Bangkok, and England, were a million miles away. It was then that I sadly realized I was at my journey’s end. My “Tour of Thailand” did not disappoint, as I’m sure you’ll agree.
It was going to be a long journey home but that, as the old saying goes, is another story






Rai Lay beach, Krabi seems a million miles and a world away from the hustle and bustle of Bangkok, the good news is its not. Three and a half hours from my apartment door to my toes curling on golden sands was all it took. Was it worth it? Oh yes!
My journey consisted of a short flight to the remarkably small airport at Krabi followed by a taxi to Ao Nang and finally, a short boat trip to my chosen destination. After hauling myself into one of the waiting long-tailed boats at Ao Nang, it wasn’t long before I felt the Gulf of Thailand’s salty water splashing favourably on my furrowed brow, at last I was beginning to unwind. Sailing into Rai Leh is one of life’s magical moments, the scenery is truly breathtaking. One long idyllic beach has been split in the middle by a large clump of out-cropping rocks to form two beaches, Ton Sai and Rai Leh West. These two pristine beaches in turn are sandwiched between massive headland cliffs, below which palm trees stand motionless as mannequins. Blue skies illuminate the water which is crystal clear, perfect for snorkeling and scuba diving at the numerous dive sites in throughout the region.
I arrived late afternoon, no reservation and even though it was SongKran I soon found a clean and quiet bungalow on the Eastern side of the island, prices are a little cheaper here I was reliably told by a Scandinavian on the boat across.
Watching the sunset anywhere in the world is always special but for me, Rai Leh beach pushed many of my previous favourites into a poor second place, and this was only my first night. I took my seat on the beach amidst many others doing likewise, temperatures had began to fall and a pleasant sea-breeze picked up, those ever popular early evening cocktails beckoned, promising to quench ones thirst after a hard days baking on the beach. As the sun sank behind distant hills the sky changed from a fiery red to shades of violet I had never seen before in a sky. The small crowd fell silent, bewildered by one of natures spectacles. The headland cliffs looked ominous now, dark and brooding in the twilight, darkness was about to fall.
Rai-Leh has a number of outdoor restaurants serving good local and European food. Whilst not teaming with choice, hopefully a stand against over-development, there are sufficient to choose from on either side of the peninsula. It is worth mentioning that not all restaurants serve alcohol, some close relatively early and loud music is not one of the complaints you will hear. Strolling back to my bungalow, all I could hear was the occasional call of a frog and the squeak of a bat flying overhead, Bangkok, all its noise and smells was but a distant memory.
Rai-Leh isn’t just about sun-bathing, there’s lots to keep you occupied and plenty of nearby places to visit too. Boat trips to neighbouring islands such as Ko Poda and Ko Hua Kwan start from as little as 350 baht for the day. Lunch, diving and a great experience are guaranteed and unquestionably great value for money. There are kayaks for hire, caves to explore, rocks to climb with experienced climbers to instruct you and even a hidden lagoon known as Princess Pool.
This captured my imagination and as it involved a fair old climb off I set. The climb is certainly not for the faint hearted and although the pool was a little murkier than I had imagined I did get a good taste of the jungle and the opportunity to see some colossal teak, a fantastic view across the island and even some wild monkeys- a little scary at first as I watched trees shaking unexplainably.
Further afield is Phi-Phi, the quieter islands of Lanta Yai and Noi and not forgetting Phang-Nga and Phuket.
So, if you’ve got three days or three weeks there’s a myriad of reasons to visit Krabi province, whether its to unwind and top up that tan, dive and explore the many coral reefs or simply throw yourself into the challenge of outdoor pursuits such as kayaking and rock-climbing then Krabi is the place to come. One could even be so bold as to say “Krabi has it all.”

Factfile
Getting there- Phuketair 02
Email- Phuketair@
Approx 4800baht

Where to stay- based on twin sharing
Diamond Cave- 600-1200baht bungalow-
Tel 075621728/9, diamondcave@hotmail.com
Railay Bay Resort-1100-2500baht (depends on season),
Tel 075622571/2, Fax 075622573
Sunrise Tropical Resort -2500-4750 baht
Tel 075622599 www.sunrisetropical.com

RAI LAY BEACH
A tour of Thailand - by car!
Parklife

Living in the melt-down metropolis of Bangkok, one can be forgiven for losing one’s sense of control. This city can absorb, re-mould and re-identify you with ease, turning you into one of its own. “Townies” was the nick-name we country folk given to describe the city-folk who rarely ventured out from their urban sprawl. They always seemed different, affected by engaging in a city-style life. Some cities struggle to keep their inhabitants occupied, not Bangkok though, it doesn’t have to try. There’s so much going on one can barely find the time to sit still. Shopping malls, markets, restaurant after restaurant after restaurant to try, nightclubs, bars, historical and touristy type offerings in abundance, Bangkok is a city that compels you to delve into it, to explore and experience it, an act that really is impossible to complete. No matter how hard you try, all you manage to achieve is waking up, eventually, feeling drained, beaten and bettered. In defeat, we leave the city in search of the coast or the islands to recuperate, rejuvenate and replenish our weary bones, vowing on return to lock horns and beat this city once and for all. It never happens though, it never will.
So, after finally and ungracefully accepting that Bangkok is always going to win, I decided to search for a more leisurely way of spending my time. I could join the old guy who sits at the end of my soi every day, content to watch the world rush by. But that didn’t really appeal, not beside a bustling street with its deafening noise and choking pollution, I wanted a peaceful vantage point from where I could truly relax, but where?
Parklife. The word flashed in my mind in a rare moment of personal inspiration.
Bangkok has them, quite a few in fact, and Parks are where you can go to relax, take the kids, sit with the family, read a book, play chess, people watch, eat, exercise or whatever. The list of what do there is possibly never-ending. Bangkok’s park-life should offer something for us all, and me I hoped.
So, aided by my trusty map I chose to start my quest at Sanam Luang, not so much a park as a meeting place. Armed with my hat, mat, sunglasses and a book, I picked a shady spot beneath one of the many trees that run round the perimeter of this park. Astounded by the sheer number of people here and coupled by the relentless noise of traffic thundering by, my initial conclusions were that surely it’s impossible for anyone to relax here yet somehow, the park proved me wrong.
Stretching out on my mat, the first thing to catch my eye was the multitude of brightly coloured kites filling the clear blue sky. Others danced merrily just a few feet from the ground as they waited to be sold for as little as 20 baht. I remembered my own frustrations as a child trying to get that dammed piece of plastic off the ground. I thought about buying one, then decided against, leaving it to the experts of which there seemed to be a few of them around.
Sunday is a family day in Thailand and where better to spend it than at the park appeared to be the general consensus as I watched group after group of people arrive and set up camp. Some were as a small family unit, others with as many as ten or more, all seemingly happy to spend the afternoon playing ball or chase with the children, cards, board-games, or simply chat till sleep took hold. Behind me crowds continued to stroll by on their way to The Grand Palace, Wat Pho or the National Museum or simply out to stroll. I sat and smiled to myself, for once it wasn’t me. I tucked into my Moo Yang and sticky rice, quenching my thirst on the cold water I bought from one of the many vendors that trawl the park. Having declined to have my fortune told, I eventually settled down to read my book, the sounds of the traffic dissipating as my ears grew accustomed to its noise. Sanam-Luang was not quite what I expected but well worth the visit.
Now Lumpini Park, my second choice was different again. Two large lakes lie amidst a thick pocket of trees, this should be a peaceful place for me to walk was my first impression of what appeared to be more like your typical park. I didn’t like the blaring karaoke but the park was thankfully big enough to get away from its noise. As I walked around getting a feel for the place I saw the new and impressive children’s playground. Swings, slides and climbing frames all conspired to keep the children entertained. It was hard to tell who was happiest, the parents or the children that swarmed over it like ants. This time I’d planned my visit to arrive a little later in the day, interested in discovering if this was a park that attracted the keep fit brigade. I found a nice spot over-looking one of the lakes, book in hand and a good supply of food that I purchased at the Park’s entrance Silom side, a good selection of typical Thai fare on offer there. I also invested in a bag of bread bits for the fish to help wile away my time. It didn’t last long though; the lakes are teaming with cat-fish that fight in their hundreds for the tit-bits the public throws their way. As the afternoon sun began to fade, the park began to fill. Joggers could be seen common-place, the more elderly gathering to play chess or chat at the many tables around the park as their younger counterparts run or walked by. I noticed a large crowd had gathered near the gates which were now closed. As I approached to investigate, the rhythmic sound of music filled the air and the crowd began to move on mass. Aerobics I realized as I spotted the instructor, on his platform begin his routine. I estimated some three-hundred participants joining in. In England, one could have mistaken it for a rave, especially as the night clouds had closed in. I liked Lumpini park. It had something for everyone. I would definitely come again.
In England a park is a park. Granted they may all look different in shape or size, but their moods and activities are all too often governed by the inclement English weather. As a rule, and here at Benjarisi Park next to Emporium, that doesn’t seem to be the case as a feast of activities, sights and smells awaited me. For me this was the most interesting of the three parks I had visited so far. I arrived mid to late afternoon again and did a circuit of the park that took just a little under ten minutes to complete. Its centre-piece is a landscaped lake with a customary fountain in the middle. At the far end, away from Sukumvit Road, borders packed with a variety of flowering plants bring a welcome flash of colour to the park; amongst them modern sculptures catch the eye. Behind these was an area for youths to skateboard and strut their stuff to an appreciative crowd that had gathered to watch. To my right a fast and furious game of basketball was taking place, next to that, takraw was being played by a group of Thais. I continued my walk around the park and found a decent sized play area for kids and a selection of exercise bars for adults. Once again, I took my seat and prepared to watch the world go by. Benjarisi is a picturesque park, with its many flowers and well kept lawns, its lake and its fountain, even the presence of pigeons add to the calm that can be felt here. An acknowledgement to the parks beauty is confirmed by a newly married couple who arrive to have photos taken here, an act that causes much interest amongst the crowds that gather here. Joggers of all ages are now rife in the park. At the rear of the park a huge aerobic class was underway. I’d been here over an hour before suddenly remembering I wanted to finish my book. I didn’t though, there was simply too much going on. So, with my back resting against my chosen tree I watched the Park and its movements unfold like a movie on TV.
After a while, I consulted my map of the city, highlighting parks I would visit next - Suan Santi Phab near Victory Monument, Suan Romaninart near the Giant Swing, The Princess Mother Memorial Garden on the river, and there were others to. Sundays would never be the same, shopping malls and markets were a thing of the past, at least for the a few more weeks anyway, I pondered as a group of children and their maids fed the fish.
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