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Other entries in Chiang Rai

Silent Nights

It's somewhat unfair to Chiang Rai that we arrived here after three weeks of bliss in Chiang Mai - Paris, Rome, Vienna - all would have paled in comparison.  We arrived by VIP bus; not purposely sought after but as it was available we thought what the hey!  It was a plush affair with massive armchairs for seats, so big in fact that Lindsey could afford to tuck her feet in, curl up and fall asleep.  How she did so was a mystery to me, as we were climbing the very same twirling highway, up the mountain, the day we went on our tour to Mae Sai.

Once through the mountains we came to vast areas of farmland that stretched on for miles, into the distance, stopping only at the foot of the intimidating mountain border.  The lands were arid, dusty and packed to the brim with crops, paddyfields and huts; used one can guess, by the farmers to shelter under to escape the unforgiving midday sun.  For the most part they were deserted and were separated by dirt trails that were imprinted with the tracks of farmland machinery, water buffalo and by the farmers themselves.  Little towns and villages interceded this farmland from time to time, the occupants of which seemed idle even when busy, such is the Thai culture that they can make work appear easy and relaxing.  At the bus stations we passed Thai were laid out in cotton weaved hammocks, too relaxed to swat the flies that swarmed around them.

Three hours later we arrived at Chiang Rai's bustling bus station, fixing ourselves a tuk-tuk we made towards Chat Guesthouse.  We were greeted by a smiling young man, whose set of teeth seemed to consume his entire face, who gladly showed us to our room situated towards the back of the complex, standing alone, accessed by a narrow alleyway and near to the staff quarters.  Chat House, according to several sources, is the oldest guesthouse in Chiang Rai and in the process has built up a solid reputation.  It's of the usual standard; big courtyard, reception area with TV, adjoining seating area for food and drink, onsite tours and treks, drinks fridge for guests to help themselves, but it's the owners and staff that make the place that little bit more memorable. Chat House is owned by a Swiss man and his Thai wife, whose welcoming and helpful nature make this place stand out from the average guesthouse affair and as a result of their hospitality we became like those people we had thus far derided.  We became.  Guesthouse junkies.

Your guesthouse junkie is, just as your expect of a junkie, addicted to the guesthouse they reside in, so much so in fact that they eat all their meals, drink all their drinks, do all their socialising and live practically 24 hours in the guesthouse.  Then when they have had enough they move on to the next guesthouse, to do the same thing all over again and again and again.  It's a strange hobby and one that baffles us completely.  Our 'junkie' reasons were simply that of fatigue after burning the candle at more than both ends in Chiang Mai, Chat House became a refuge to our battered bodies and mashed minds.  However, we are not total converts to the junkie ideal, we merely dabbled and although the guesthouse junkie scene has it's benefits; you don't have to move far and you can start to treat the guesthouse as you would your own front room, we are far too nosy for that and are always eager to discover our latest port of call.

In fact our first few days were as normal, within minutes of getting comfortable in our room we were out and about exploring Chiang Rai's laid back and sleepy atmosphere.  Chiang Rai was established as a capital city, near the Kok river, in 1262 by King Meng Rai when the Lanna Thai Kingdom covered the area of Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai, Phayao, Nan and other provinces in the north of Thailand. This kingdom became a Burmese colony from 1558 to 1774, however, it was won back by King Taksin, the King of Siam in the Thonburi period, from the Burmese and the Lanna Thai Kingdom became a dependency of Siam (Thailand) with Chiang Rai finally becoming a true province of Thailand in 1933.  Chiang Rai is the northernmost province of Thailand, it is adjacent to Myanmar (Burma) and Laos, and covers a total area of 11,678km.  Situated at 410 metres above sea level, the area of Chiang Rai mostly consists of mountains covered with forests and incorporates several rivers, such as, the Kok, Sai, Ing and the mighty Mekong river.

The layout of Chiang Rai is like that of any other small provincial town in Thailand, noodle shops. mini-marts and home-ware stores line the main roads, which in turn branch off at a central point, usually a clock tower or a memorial statue of a King.  The side roads lead to the marketplace, tourist (farang) bars, up market cafes, posh hotels and residential areas, in this regard Chiang Rai could have been Lampang, Phitsanulok or Sukhothai.  The common layout is set out in a logical grid style, much like New York City, each square incorporating a designated share of shops and bars.  The city of Chiang Rai acted as a mellow alternative to the wild and heady nights of Chiang Mai, it's a much quieter place all round and for that, and for those people who have OD'd on the excess of Chiang Mai, we are truly thankful for it's intervention.

In defence of Chiang Rai's nightlife it has a great night market scene, it was here that we sampled our last Burmese curry and northern spicy sausage, that has a big stage for local cabaret and musicians to entertain the mixed farang, Chinese, Japanese and Thai audience.  We watched a unbelievably bad cabaret act where the lead singer did an awful job of lip-synching the farang playlist and danced out of tune.  The marketplace spreads wide and far, traders deal in the usual silk, silver and cotton wares, as well as many food vendors and artists plying their trade.  Lindsey was upset on witnessing a man selling puppies out of a cardboard box, the little critters were so young that they had trouble opening their eyes.  As uncomfortable as it was to see, we have also witnessed how well the Thai treat their pets, almost as extensions to their own family, so we were pretty confident that they would end up in a loving home.

Leading off from the night market there is a vibrant and tacky go-go bar area where the beer is cheap and, so it appears, is dignity.  Just down the road a quiet but brightly lit street leads to a more friendly farang area with modern up market coffee shops and backpacker influenced bars daubed in stark colours and marked with the ever-so-present Bob Marley mural.  Life is so quiet in Chiang Rai, even packed out bars barely raise above an audible whisper, just the tonic our crippled bodies were after.  On the other side of town the day market resides along a busy road selling everything from live fish in a bucket to freshly cooked green curry with sticky rice.  Back in the centre of town a lively main street bristles with people all day long, farang and Thai mix in the cafes and food halls as if this is the way life has always been.

We got caught up in the mother of all rainstorms during our visit, the only other time that we have seen rain in the past two months was in Kanchanaburi but that was short and sweet.  This one fell heavily and within five seconds our clothes were drenched and sopping wet.  Taking shelter under a shop front canvas we watched the scene unfold around us; raindrops bounced high off the tarmac, monks ran for shelter under giant golf umbrellas, tuk-tuks were covered in stretched plastic sheets and all Thai life came to a standstill, all watching the chaos ensue. Within minutes the road was a river, flowing fast and hard, carrying a debris of litter and leaves as it cascaded onwards.  On showing no signs of the weather relenting we decided to retire to our guesthouse, we tracked down a tuk-tuk, the driver helpfully secured our cab from getting wet by enclosing us in a hastily designed plastic cocoon.  On the way back to the guesthouse we watched, amused, as hordes of people desperately took shelter and traders in the marketplace frantically tried to save their produce from ruin by covering large areas in tarpaulin.

All in all a few nights of peace and quiet in Chiang Rai were all we were after so, once refreshed, we could head on to Chiang Khong; border town to Laos.  We spent our days idling around the city drinking coffee, sampling the cuisine and perusing the Burmese/Chinese wats littered within the vicinity.  For those evenings when we didn't wish to face the influence of the night we simply relaxed in the guesthouse area and either read a book, watched the football or even a film and chattered away to the owners.  It was a simple life and one that had to happen, another week of living the Chiang Mai way may have finished us off.  So fully recharged some six days later we embarked onwards to Chiang Khong where the very next day we should be entering, via crossing the Mekong river, the sparcely populated country of Laos.

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