PeterUK
July 1st, 2014, 12:09
I just returned from three days in Kamphaeng Phet, which lies about 70 kilometers to the south of Sukhothai and is similarly dotted with temple ruins, though not so profusely or famously. It's on the central plain and rice fields stretch away in all directions. The Ping river flows past on its leisurely way down from Chiang Mai to Ayutthaya. I've long wanted to visit, partly because of the town's historical associations and partly because it is off the usual tourist trail. I had another reason for going which I'll come to shortly.
My first impression, as I sat in a song theaw going from the bus station to my hotel, was that this was a typical Thai provincial town, grubby and bland. Once I started to explore, though, my opinion improved considerably. There are plenty of open spaces and greenery, including a shady little riverside park where, in the early evening, people jog, lift weights, thwack shuttlecocks, shoot hoops or gyrate to the commands of a sadistic fitness instructor and to the accompaniment of pounding music. Nearby the best takraw players I've ever set eyes on were practising, casually revelling in their outrageous superabundance of ball-body coordination. There is a long, pleasant, tree-lined promenade beside the river. Strolling there in the evening I saw many people picnicking in groups or sitting alone. The brazen come-on stares obligatory in Pattaya were nowhere in evidence.
The shopping districts are nondescript overall, but a surprisingly large number of traditional wooden houses break up the monotony and add a bit of character. I saw more coffee shops than I would have expected. The indoor night market was always packed and dozens of food and drink vendors were doing a roaring trade. I had a 'gung'-less pad thai followed by a custard-like dessert for the princely sum of 32B.
One quickly realises that, as the guide books state, KP is not a place geared up for tourism. I saw only a handful of farangs and the locals sometimes looked at me as if I was a visitor from another planet. Signs are generally in Thai, though I did see one at an eaterie announcing 'hygienic pork', which I thought gained in practical reassurance what it lost in snappy presentation. Not too much English is spoken, so it helps if you can speak some Thai. In Pattaya silver-tongued rascals are always telling me that my pronunciation is 90 percent clear, but here I couldn't help noticing that I often had to repeat myself. Overall the locals were incredibly friendly, ever ready with smiles, waves and greetings.
On my first full day I hired a bicycle from the hotel and went to explore the Historical Park where most of the temple ruins are situated. It was early morning, the sun was shining through cloud and there was a gentle breeze. I wobbled my way along the almost traffic-free streets, which turned greener and greener, and soon I was at the Park. It is divided into two adjoining zones, the one more open, the other more forested. Both are worth visiting (in which case some form of transport is pretty much essential). The temple remains look very picturesque in their splendid and well-maintained natural settings. Little plaques next to each tell you all you are likely to want to know about them. Buddha images in a variety of postures stare serenely ahead; some are so worn smooth that they resemble modern sculptural pieces. I had the Park almost to myself and enjoyed about three hours of whim-driven wandering. All around me crows were cawing, lazy dogs lounging, butterflies fluttering (there was also that fucking snake that dropped from a tree and scared the shit out of me, but we'll pass over that). Altogether a good, good morning.
I saw quite a few strikingly handsome youths in KP, usually with girlfriends in tow. There were groups of boys everywhere, but only one or two individuals looked obviously gay. I received some friendly comments but just smiled and moved on. I'd be the first to admit that I am not a talented boy-hunter, lacking both the flair and persistence required. On these short trips I can't be bothered anyway, knowing that I'll soon be back in Pattaya with my regulars. Also, as I mentioned above, I had another reason for being in KP, which carried a sexual charge of its own.
An old flame of mine lives thereabouts and I was hoping to meet up with him. I first met him about seven years ago when he was 19 and working in a Boyztown bar. He was slim, stunningly beautiful and oddly diffident. He had a way of cupping a hand over his mouth while speaking, giving him a conspiratorial air, which kind of appealed to me. I was soon having regular afternoon trysts with him at my condo. As I became more smitten, he remained frustratingly distant. Usually careful with money, I was reaching a stage of airy recklessness in that regard (please, please, let me buy your love!) which has led many a foolish farang into bankruptcy. At that point fate (it seemed cruel at the time) intervened and he was whisked off to Bangkok to live with an equally smitten farang university lecturer. I lost an alarming amount of weight in the weeks that followed and spent a lot of my time brooding over the best method of murdering an unsuspecting Bangkok university lecturer.
The boy reappeared in Pattaya after a few months тАУ suddenly, amazingly, there he was again working in a different bar тАУ and I tried to resurrect the relationship, such as it was. I took him off once or twice but was sadly aware that nothing much had changed in his attitude. In a rare display of commonsense I finally accepted that there was no mileage to all this and I stopped seeing him. In the years that followed I would sometimes catch sight of him with other farangs тАУ he was a very successful barboy тАУ but by now my feelings were well under control. I still fancied him but no longer at fever-pitch. He was filling out, becoming quite muscular and, much to my surprise, had started working at a bar associated with more manly boys. I would sometimes see him sitting outside drawing on a cigarette with the distracted air of the true addict. I would try to catch his eye, but usually felt that he was deliberately pretending not to notice me. There followed a period of about two years when I didn't see him at all and I assumed he had finished working in bars. I hardly gave him a thought any more.
Then, a few weeks ago, I was browsing through some old photos and suddenly there was one of him standing next to a potted palm in my bedroom, wearing the briefest of briefs and staring solemnly at the camera. He looked so sexy. Carnal memories flooded back. On impulse I sent him a text message simply asking how he was, not at all expecting a reply since the contact number was so ancient. But lo and behold, I received a reply that evening, friendly, asking after me. It turned out that he was working full-time on the family farm in KP nowadays, as I had supposed he was. I left it at that, but woke up a couple of weeks later brightly resolved to go to KP at long last and, if he wanted to meet me there, so much the better. I sent him a text to that effect and back came the reply that he had now gone to work in Lamphun (near Chiang Mai and I seemed to recall his family having a longan farm out that way). He hoped I could meet him there. Not much further than KP he said (a mere 300 kilometers or more!). Did I detect a certain pleading tone to this request? I had no illusion that anything but shortage of money could have suddenly made me so important to him. But who cared? Those carnal stirrings were not to be denied. I texted to say I would go to see him.
Such was the state of affairs when I arrived in KP. I was intent on spending some time on my own there, but was then going to move on to visit my old flame. We'd chat, I'd enquire sympathetically about his present circumstances тАУ oh, and then we'd screw. My only problem was that I was not quite sure whether he was in Lamphun or Lampang which is a bit nearer. We exchanged some texts in which I noticed that he was now liberally sprinkling the 'dears' and 'darlings' тАУ pretty hilarious all things considered, but a boost to my mood all the same. After some confusion he settled on Lamphun as his whereabouts. I replied that I liked the idea of visiting Lampang and could he meet me there. The shortish hop from Lamphun seemed like a fair exchange to me in view of all the mileage I was racking up.
And that, gentle reader, marked the end of our correspondence. I apologise if you were anticipating a juicy finale. I heard no more from him. Zilch. A death-like silence. I sent one more message which also disappeared into an electronic black hole. It was all horribly reminiscent of the old days when there would be mystifying changes of mind, unanswered phone calls. The big difference was that back then such occurrences would send me into a tailspin of terrible anxiety and deep gloom which might last for days; now it was just a mild irritation which I quickly shrugged off. I couldn't even be bothered to speculate as to what might have happened to change his mind.
In fact, the folly of this whole project finally came home to me. There had been a nagging sense of unease from the moment I left Pattaya. I knew logically that a plan based on the ogling of a seven-year-old photo was almost certainly a bad plan. I didn't trust my own motives. There were all sorts of ways much worse than mere anti-climax in which this thing could have ended. The more I thought about it the more unreal it all seemed, a feeling underlined by the realisation that we hadn't actually spoken a single word to each other since I first contacted him; we'd only exchanged disembodied texts. Relief swept over me. I felt I had been protected from myself. Let it go, let it go. Remembrance of flings past is all very fine and dandy, but best to leave them where they are тАУ in the past.
So I had an extra day in KP. A lazy day just spent enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of the place. I was very pleased to have made the trip at last, even if it had taken a fit of madness to achieve it. I liked my hotel. The Navarat Heritage Hotel it calls itself rather pompously. It bills itself as 4-star but is closer to 3-star. Perfectly satisfactory and recommendable, close to the night market and riverside park. My standard room was 800B per night with so-so breakfast.
A few shots from the Historical Park (my thanks to Smiles for his kind assistance in reminding me how to load them).
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4701new_zps479bae24.jpg
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4704new_zpsbeea6c5f.jpg
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4705new_zpsae05837e.jpg
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4696new_zps79f3ba97.jpg
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4708new_zps2ce3a1a5.jpg
Lots of these traditional wooden houses all over town.
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4725new_zps10b9df84.jpg
Part of the riverside promenade.
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4721new_zps0403f37b.jpg
Shooting hoops at the riverside park (Sirijit Park).
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4727new_zpsb7cb5289.jpg
My first impression, as I sat in a song theaw going from the bus station to my hotel, was that this was a typical Thai provincial town, grubby and bland. Once I started to explore, though, my opinion improved considerably. There are plenty of open spaces and greenery, including a shady little riverside park where, in the early evening, people jog, lift weights, thwack shuttlecocks, shoot hoops or gyrate to the commands of a sadistic fitness instructor and to the accompaniment of pounding music. Nearby the best takraw players I've ever set eyes on were practising, casually revelling in their outrageous superabundance of ball-body coordination. There is a long, pleasant, tree-lined promenade beside the river. Strolling there in the evening I saw many people picnicking in groups or sitting alone. The brazen come-on stares obligatory in Pattaya were nowhere in evidence.
The shopping districts are nondescript overall, but a surprisingly large number of traditional wooden houses break up the monotony and add a bit of character. I saw more coffee shops than I would have expected. The indoor night market was always packed and dozens of food and drink vendors were doing a roaring trade. I had a 'gung'-less pad thai followed by a custard-like dessert for the princely sum of 32B.
One quickly realises that, as the guide books state, KP is not a place geared up for tourism. I saw only a handful of farangs and the locals sometimes looked at me as if I was a visitor from another planet. Signs are generally in Thai, though I did see one at an eaterie announcing 'hygienic pork', which I thought gained in practical reassurance what it lost in snappy presentation. Not too much English is spoken, so it helps if you can speak some Thai. In Pattaya silver-tongued rascals are always telling me that my pronunciation is 90 percent clear, but here I couldn't help noticing that I often had to repeat myself. Overall the locals were incredibly friendly, ever ready with smiles, waves and greetings.
On my first full day I hired a bicycle from the hotel and went to explore the Historical Park where most of the temple ruins are situated. It was early morning, the sun was shining through cloud and there was a gentle breeze. I wobbled my way along the almost traffic-free streets, which turned greener and greener, and soon I was at the Park. It is divided into two adjoining zones, the one more open, the other more forested. Both are worth visiting (in which case some form of transport is pretty much essential). The temple remains look very picturesque in their splendid and well-maintained natural settings. Little plaques next to each tell you all you are likely to want to know about them. Buddha images in a variety of postures stare serenely ahead; some are so worn smooth that they resemble modern sculptural pieces. I had the Park almost to myself and enjoyed about three hours of whim-driven wandering. All around me crows were cawing, lazy dogs lounging, butterflies fluttering (there was also that fucking snake that dropped from a tree and scared the shit out of me, but we'll pass over that). Altogether a good, good morning.
I saw quite a few strikingly handsome youths in KP, usually with girlfriends in tow. There were groups of boys everywhere, but only one or two individuals looked obviously gay. I received some friendly comments but just smiled and moved on. I'd be the first to admit that I am not a talented boy-hunter, lacking both the flair and persistence required. On these short trips I can't be bothered anyway, knowing that I'll soon be back in Pattaya with my regulars. Also, as I mentioned above, I had another reason for being in KP, which carried a sexual charge of its own.
An old flame of mine lives thereabouts and I was hoping to meet up with him. I first met him about seven years ago when he was 19 and working in a Boyztown bar. He was slim, stunningly beautiful and oddly diffident. He had a way of cupping a hand over his mouth while speaking, giving him a conspiratorial air, which kind of appealed to me. I was soon having regular afternoon trysts with him at my condo. As I became more smitten, he remained frustratingly distant. Usually careful with money, I was reaching a stage of airy recklessness in that regard (please, please, let me buy your love!) which has led many a foolish farang into bankruptcy. At that point fate (it seemed cruel at the time) intervened and he was whisked off to Bangkok to live with an equally smitten farang university lecturer. I lost an alarming amount of weight in the weeks that followed and spent a lot of my time brooding over the best method of murdering an unsuspecting Bangkok university lecturer.
The boy reappeared in Pattaya after a few months тАУ suddenly, amazingly, there he was again working in a different bar тАУ and I tried to resurrect the relationship, such as it was. I took him off once or twice but was sadly aware that nothing much had changed in his attitude. In a rare display of commonsense I finally accepted that there was no mileage to all this and I stopped seeing him. In the years that followed I would sometimes catch sight of him with other farangs тАУ he was a very successful barboy тАУ but by now my feelings were well under control. I still fancied him but no longer at fever-pitch. He was filling out, becoming quite muscular and, much to my surprise, had started working at a bar associated with more manly boys. I would sometimes see him sitting outside drawing on a cigarette with the distracted air of the true addict. I would try to catch his eye, but usually felt that he was deliberately pretending not to notice me. There followed a period of about two years when I didn't see him at all and I assumed he had finished working in bars. I hardly gave him a thought any more.
Then, a few weeks ago, I was browsing through some old photos and suddenly there was one of him standing next to a potted palm in my bedroom, wearing the briefest of briefs and staring solemnly at the camera. He looked so sexy. Carnal memories flooded back. On impulse I sent him a text message simply asking how he was, not at all expecting a reply since the contact number was so ancient. But lo and behold, I received a reply that evening, friendly, asking after me. It turned out that he was working full-time on the family farm in KP nowadays, as I had supposed he was. I left it at that, but woke up a couple of weeks later brightly resolved to go to KP at long last and, if he wanted to meet me there, so much the better. I sent him a text to that effect and back came the reply that he had now gone to work in Lamphun (near Chiang Mai and I seemed to recall his family having a longan farm out that way). He hoped I could meet him there. Not much further than KP he said (a mere 300 kilometers or more!). Did I detect a certain pleading tone to this request? I had no illusion that anything but shortage of money could have suddenly made me so important to him. But who cared? Those carnal stirrings were not to be denied. I texted to say I would go to see him.
Such was the state of affairs when I arrived in KP. I was intent on spending some time on my own there, but was then going to move on to visit my old flame. We'd chat, I'd enquire sympathetically about his present circumstances тАУ oh, and then we'd screw. My only problem was that I was not quite sure whether he was in Lamphun or Lampang which is a bit nearer. We exchanged some texts in which I noticed that he was now liberally sprinkling the 'dears' and 'darlings' тАУ pretty hilarious all things considered, but a boost to my mood all the same. After some confusion he settled on Lamphun as his whereabouts. I replied that I liked the idea of visiting Lampang and could he meet me there. The shortish hop from Lamphun seemed like a fair exchange to me in view of all the mileage I was racking up.
And that, gentle reader, marked the end of our correspondence. I apologise if you were anticipating a juicy finale. I heard no more from him. Zilch. A death-like silence. I sent one more message which also disappeared into an electronic black hole. It was all horribly reminiscent of the old days when there would be mystifying changes of mind, unanswered phone calls. The big difference was that back then such occurrences would send me into a tailspin of terrible anxiety and deep gloom which might last for days; now it was just a mild irritation which I quickly shrugged off. I couldn't even be bothered to speculate as to what might have happened to change his mind.
In fact, the folly of this whole project finally came home to me. There had been a nagging sense of unease from the moment I left Pattaya. I knew logically that a plan based on the ogling of a seven-year-old photo was almost certainly a bad plan. I didn't trust my own motives. There were all sorts of ways much worse than mere anti-climax in which this thing could have ended. The more I thought about it the more unreal it all seemed, a feeling underlined by the realisation that we hadn't actually spoken a single word to each other since I first contacted him; we'd only exchanged disembodied texts. Relief swept over me. I felt I had been protected from myself. Let it go, let it go. Remembrance of flings past is all very fine and dandy, but best to leave them where they are тАУ in the past.
So I had an extra day in KP. A lazy day just spent enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of the place. I was very pleased to have made the trip at last, even if it had taken a fit of madness to achieve it. I liked my hotel. The Navarat Heritage Hotel it calls itself rather pompously. It bills itself as 4-star but is closer to 3-star. Perfectly satisfactory and recommendable, close to the night market and riverside park. My standard room was 800B per night with so-so breakfast.
A few shots from the Historical Park (my thanks to Smiles for his kind assistance in reminding me how to load them).
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4701new_zps479bae24.jpg
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4704new_zpsbeea6c5f.jpg
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4705new_zpsae05837e.jpg
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4696new_zps79f3ba97.jpg
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4708new_zps2ce3a1a5.jpg
Lots of these traditional wooden houses all over town.
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4725new_zps10b9df84.jpg
Part of the riverside promenade.
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4721new_zps0403f37b.jpg
Shooting hoops at the riverside park (Sirijit Park).
http://i778.photobucket.com/albums/yy68/PeterMurrell/IMG_4727new_zpsb7cb5289.jpg