PeterUK
June 22nd, 2008, 11:08
Last week my Thai companion and I spent three days in Sukhothai, a first visit for both of us. We took a sprinter train from Hualampong to Phitsanulok, which entailed staring out of a filthy compartment window for five hours as the flat, unchanging green expanse of the central plains slid by тАУ rice fields, rice fields everywhere. We stopped in Phitsanulok for a night. ItтАЩs an unassuming place, like most provincial Thai towns, but we enjoyed walking along the tree-lined riverfront in the evening and browsing the night market. The hotel we stayed at was the Pailyn, three-star-ish and reasonable value at 1000B including breakfast. In the morning we had a couple of hours to kill and so went to the тАШSgt Major Thawee Folk MuseumтАЩ, which sounds rather wacky but is actually an impressively large private collection of artefacts depicting everyday life in the central region over the centuries. Some of the items were weird and wonderful though. I wished weтАЩd had more time to look at them.
In the early afternoon we went by bus to New Sukhothai, about one hourтАЩs journey away. This is where most people stay who come to visit the old city. We checked in at the Lotus Village guest house, chosen pretty much at random from my ancient guidebook. It turned out to be a happy choice. It consists of about twenty clean and traditionally furnished cabins set in a luxuriant garden with a lotus pond as its centrepiece. The main reception building has a small restaurant and communal relaxation area with cabinets of Sukhothai antiques on display. ItтАЩs owned and run by an old French guy and his Thai wife. 1200B a night for our detached cabin, breakfast not included. Somewhat to my surprise, neither the ultra-firm mattress nor the constant nocturnal croakings and clickings outside did much to impede my sleep, such as it is these days. At dawn, in addition to the predictable crowing of cocks, a dozen other varieties of bird would weigh in with their breezy contributions. I was so intrigued the first morning that I went and sat on the verandah to appreciate it all the better. Such apparent joy! Such celebration of the start of a new day! It made me feel joyful myself. From the adjoining property came the raucous cries of peacocks from time to time, like fishwives in distress. When my bleary-eyed companion joined me, he mimed the firing of a catapult at the birds. I was forced to issue a stern rebuke.
My companionтАЩs name is Dam and IтАЩve lived with him for just over a year now. HeтАЩs nineteen, young for his age, sometimes shy in company, particularly farang company, and heтАЩs as sweet-natured and genuine a guy as you could hope to meet. HeтАЩs not unduly mercenary and I receive no family-related requests for money. I love him dearly without being тАШin loveтАЩ with him; I suffer from none of the usual possessiveness or jealousy. He, for his part, showers me with more affection than I know what to do with. HeтАЩs also a sex maniac. The disparity in our ages and limited range of shared interests cause some problems, but all of them are manageable with a spirit of goodwill and compromise on both sides. I am thankful to have met him. It happened at a time when my emotional fortunes were at a low ebb and he has helped to restore me.
In appearance he is on the small side. His spiky hairdo and assorted face furniture тАУ sunglasses, decorative piercings to eyebrow, ears, nose and chin тАУ give him a punk look. His tee shirts often advertise his love of hip hop (heтАЩll burst into song at the drop of a baseball cap) and chains hang from his pants. It was amusing to note as we wandered round Phitsanulok and more so New Sukhothai how the locals reacted to the sight of him. Wide-eyed young children would tap a parentтАЩs leg and point, teenage girls eating at roadside stalls would pause to gawp with spoonfuls of food half-raised to their mouths, guys on motorcycles would almost fall off as they turned for a double-take, old people would clutch at their chests and have to be supported. тАШDarling, why does everyone here look at me all the time ,тАЩ he would ask plaintively in Thai. тАШPerhaps because theyтАЩve never seen anyone from another planet before,тАЩ I would answer.
New Sukhothai is smaller and scruffier than Phitsanulok and we didnтАЩt do much exploring beyond the busy fruit and vegetable market and shady temple grounds close to our guest house. On our first full day we hired a tuk-tuk driver, a very friendly lady, to take us to the old city and show us round. The local tuk-tuks are a cunning variation on the standard model: the driver sits at the back, thereby ensuring that in the event of a miscalculation it is most likely to be the passengers at the front who cop it. ItтАЩs twelve kilometres from New Sukhothai to the old city and it didnтАЩt take us long to get there. I always feel that visits to historical sites should be educational but am guiltily aware that I never seem to learn much. On this occasion it was really no more than a pleasant wander round a scenic park liberally dotted with trees, ponds, lawns and ruins. IтАЩm sure Dam could have thought of better ways of spending a relaxing morning (like sleeping), but he showed his usual sweet forbearance of his ding-dong farangтАЩs strange urges and at least feigned interest. The most exciting thing that happened was when a three-foot-long green snake dropped from a branch and landed a few yards in front of us before slithering away into a ditch. From my description our driver declared that the snake was harmless; another driver disagreed and said it was poisonous. IтАЩm inclined to believe the latter and that we narrowly escaped a horrible death.
After four hours of looking at a lot of different stupas from a lot of different angles, we were both, well, stupefied and decided weтАЩd had enough. It had been lightly overcast all morning but heavier cloud had built up and as we set off on the return journey the heavens opened. At this point another design fault of these back-to-front local tuk-tuks quickly became apparent, namely, that in the event of heavy rain the passengers get fucking drenched. There are polythene flaps which can be lowered and fastened at the sides but the front has to remain open to allow the driver unimpeded vision. All we had for protection was an open umbrella round our knees and a fat lot of good that did us. The return journey seemed to take many times longer than the outgoing one; it felt as if we were rounding a storm-lashed Cape of Good Hope in a rowing boat.
Needless to say, we all looked like drowned rats when we got back, including the poor driver. тАШI take you again tomorrow,тАЩ she said, smiling broadly after generous remuneration. DonтАЩt bank on it, I thought as we walked away. We spent the rest of the day lazily тАШrecuperatingтАЩ at the guest house. In the early evening Dam spotted some old ladies doing aerobics to some bouncy music at a place across the road and had a lot of fun imitating their fluttery movements. тАШHip hop for old people,тАЩ I told him.
On our second and last full day we hired mountain bikes and a female guide from a small family-run local company (Cycling Sukhothai) and set off to explore the surrounding countryside. ItтАЩs been many a long year since I rode one of those critters (I donтАЩt think we even had mountain bikes back then, just penny farthings) and so it all felt like quite an adventure. Fortunately, the land around Sukhothai vies with Holland for flatness (not a тАШmountainтАЩ in sight) and nothing too demanding was required of me. We did have to negotiate a few quite mean-looking puddles. The hairiest moment was when we crossed a narrow, rickety wooden bridge with alarmingly wide gaps between some of its planks. I have no head for heights at the best of times and my progress over that wobbly bridge was not made any easier by DamтАЩs amused, provocative mutterings of тАШOh, my God!тАЩ behind me.
We travelled along narrow country lanes which wound through small villages, we went along reddish-brown dirt tracks beside rivers, through groves of broad-leaved banana trees and between rice fields which stretched to the horizon. The weather was perfect for our endeavour: overcast, quite cool, just a faint sun poking through. We hardly saw another vehicle; all was peace and tranquillity. Coolie-hatted farm workers straightened from their labours to wave to us, villagers shouted out friendly greetings. Only the dogs eyed us warily. When during a pause for liquid replenishment Dam spotted a familiar fruit high in the branches of a tree, a smiling old lady appeared from an adjacent shack carrying a long stick which she used to knock down enough of the fruit to fill two plastic bags. She shuffled off, no payment or even thanks expected. These are the moments when one loves Thailand.
After about two and a half hours I was feeling saddle-sore and weary and we headed back. I had a lovely traditional Thai massage at the guest houseтАЩs spa room, which eased away my aches and pains. In the early evening, in what had become a routine, I sat out on the verandah of our cabin, quietly absorbing the sights and sounds of the tropical garden and the fragrance which some of the plants gave off at that time of day. I was finishing off some small bite-size banana cakes that I had bought from a roadside stall. Dam appeared, saw what I was doing, frowned and made a growling noise. I smiled back meekly as I popped the last banana cake into my mouth. One of our many running jokes is his pretending to be angry at my indulgence in too many sweet things and my pretending to be duly scolded. He joined me on the wooden bench and nestled up to my shoulder.
тАШHave you enjoyed yourself in Sukhothai?тАЩ I asked him. тАШYes, IтАЩve enjoyed myself very much.тАЩ A pause, then he continued, тАШDarling, are we going home tomorrow?тАЩ тАШYes, weтАЩre going home tomorrow.тАЩ Big grin, loud sniff-kiss and exaggerated return to nestling mode.
In the trees the birds sang on, giving the impression at least of boundless joy.
In the early afternoon we went by bus to New Sukhothai, about one hourтАЩs journey away. This is where most people stay who come to visit the old city. We checked in at the Lotus Village guest house, chosen pretty much at random from my ancient guidebook. It turned out to be a happy choice. It consists of about twenty clean and traditionally furnished cabins set in a luxuriant garden with a lotus pond as its centrepiece. The main reception building has a small restaurant and communal relaxation area with cabinets of Sukhothai antiques on display. ItтАЩs owned and run by an old French guy and his Thai wife. 1200B a night for our detached cabin, breakfast not included. Somewhat to my surprise, neither the ultra-firm mattress nor the constant nocturnal croakings and clickings outside did much to impede my sleep, such as it is these days. At dawn, in addition to the predictable crowing of cocks, a dozen other varieties of bird would weigh in with their breezy contributions. I was so intrigued the first morning that I went and sat on the verandah to appreciate it all the better. Such apparent joy! Such celebration of the start of a new day! It made me feel joyful myself. From the adjoining property came the raucous cries of peacocks from time to time, like fishwives in distress. When my bleary-eyed companion joined me, he mimed the firing of a catapult at the birds. I was forced to issue a stern rebuke.
My companionтАЩs name is Dam and IтАЩve lived with him for just over a year now. HeтАЩs nineteen, young for his age, sometimes shy in company, particularly farang company, and heтАЩs as sweet-natured and genuine a guy as you could hope to meet. HeтАЩs not unduly mercenary and I receive no family-related requests for money. I love him dearly without being тАШin loveтАЩ with him; I suffer from none of the usual possessiveness or jealousy. He, for his part, showers me with more affection than I know what to do with. HeтАЩs also a sex maniac. The disparity in our ages and limited range of shared interests cause some problems, but all of them are manageable with a spirit of goodwill and compromise on both sides. I am thankful to have met him. It happened at a time when my emotional fortunes were at a low ebb and he has helped to restore me.
In appearance he is on the small side. His spiky hairdo and assorted face furniture тАУ sunglasses, decorative piercings to eyebrow, ears, nose and chin тАУ give him a punk look. His tee shirts often advertise his love of hip hop (heтАЩll burst into song at the drop of a baseball cap) and chains hang from his pants. It was amusing to note as we wandered round Phitsanulok and more so New Sukhothai how the locals reacted to the sight of him. Wide-eyed young children would tap a parentтАЩs leg and point, teenage girls eating at roadside stalls would pause to gawp with spoonfuls of food half-raised to their mouths, guys on motorcycles would almost fall off as they turned for a double-take, old people would clutch at their chests and have to be supported. тАШDarling, why does everyone here look at me all the time ,тАЩ he would ask plaintively in Thai. тАШPerhaps because theyтАЩve never seen anyone from another planet before,тАЩ I would answer.
New Sukhothai is smaller and scruffier than Phitsanulok and we didnтАЩt do much exploring beyond the busy fruit and vegetable market and shady temple grounds close to our guest house. On our first full day we hired a tuk-tuk driver, a very friendly lady, to take us to the old city and show us round. The local tuk-tuks are a cunning variation on the standard model: the driver sits at the back, thereby ensuring that in the event of a miscalculation it is most likely to be the passengers at the front who cop it. ItтАЩs twelve kilometres from New Sukhothai to the old city and it didnтАЩt take us long to get there. I always feel that visits to historical sites should be educational but am guiltily aware that I never seem to learn much. On this occasion it was really no more than a pleasant wander round a scenic park liberally dotted with trees, ponds, lawns and ruins. IтАЩm sure Dam could have thought of better ways of spending a relaxing morning (like sleeping), but he showed his usual sweet forbearance of his ding-dong farangтАЩs strange urges and at least feigned interest. The most exciting thing that happened was when a three-foot-long green snake dropped from a branch and landed a few yards in front of us before slithering away into a ditch. From my description our driver declared that the snake was harmless; another driver disagreed and said it was poisonous. IтАЩm inclined to believe the latter and that we narrowly escaped a horrible death.
After four hours of looking at a lot of different stupas from a lot of different angles, we were both, well, stupefied and decided weтАЩd had enough. It had been lightly overcast all morning but heavier cloud had built up and as we set off on the return journey the heavens opened. At this point another design fault of these back-to-front local tuk-tuks quickly became apparent, namely, that in the event of heavy rain the passengers get fucking drenched. There are polythene flaps which can be lowered and fastened at the sides but the front has to remain open to allow the driver unimpeded vision. All we had for protection was an open umbrella round our knees and a fat lot of good that did us. The return journey seemed to take many times longer than the outgoing one; it felt as if we were rounding a storm-lashed Cape of Good Hope in a rowing boat.
Needless to say, we all looked like drowned rats when we got back, including the poor driver. тАШI take you again tomorrow,тАЩ she said, smiling broadly after generous remuneration. DonтАЩt bank on it, I thought as we walked away. We spent the rest of the day lazily тАШrecuperatingтАЩ at the guest house. In the early evening Dam spotted some old ladies doing aerobics to some bouncy music at a place across the road and had a lot of fun imitating their fluttery movements. тАШHip hop for old people,тАЩ I told him.
On our second and last full day we hired mountain bikes and a female guide from a small family-run local company (Cycling Sukhothai) and set off to explore the surrounding countryside. ItтАЩs been many a long year since I rode one of those critters (I donтАЩt think we even had mountain bikes back then, just penny farthings) and so it all felt like quite an adventure. Fortunately, the land around Sukhothai vies with Holland for flatness (not a тАШmountainтАЩ in sight) and nothing too demanding was required of me. We did have to negotiate a few quite mean-looking puddles. The hairiest moment was when we crossed a narrow, rickety wooden bridge with alarmingly wide gaps between some of its planks. I have no head for heights at the best of times and my progress over that wobbly bridge was not made any easier by DamтАЩs amused, provocative mutterings of тАШOh, my God!тАЩ behind me.
We travelled along narrow country lanes which wound through small villages, we went along reddish-brown dirt tracks beside rivers, through groves of broad-leaved banana trees and between rice fields which stretched to the horizon. The weather was perfect for our endeavour: overcast, quite cool, just a faint sun poking through. We hardly saw another vehicle; all was peace and tranquillity. Coolie-hatted farm workers straightened from their labours to wave to us, villagers shouted out friendly greetings. Only the dogs eyed us warily. When during a pause for liquid replenishment Dam spotted a familiar fruit high in the branches of a tree, a smiling old lady appeared from an adjacent shack carrying a long stick which she used to knock down enough of the fruit to fill two plastic bags. She shuffled off, no payment or even thanks expected. These are the moments when one loves Thailand.
After about two and a half hours I was feeling saddle-sore and weary and we headed back. I had a lovely traditional Thai massage at the guest houseтАЩs spa room, which eased away my aches and pains. In the early evening, in what had become a routine, I sat out on the verandah of our cabin, quietly absorbing the sights and sounds of the tropical garden and the fragrance which some of the plants gave off at that time of day. I was finishing off some small bite-size banana cakes that I had bought from a roadside stall. Dam appeared, saw what I was doing, frowned and made a growling noise. I smiled back meekly as I popped the last banana cake into my mouth. One of our many running jokes is his pretending to be angry at my indulgence in too many sweet things and my pretending to be duly scolded. He joined me on the wooden bench and nestled up to my shoulder.
тАШHave you enjoyed yourself in Sukhothai?тАЩ I asked him. тАШYes, IтАЩve enjoyed myself very much.тАЩ A pause, then he continued, тАШDarling, are we going home tomorrow?тАЩ тАШYes, weтАЩre going home tomorrow.тАЩ Big grin, loud sniff-kiss and exaggerated return to nestling mode.
In the trees the birds sang on, giving the impression at least of boundless joy.