Bangkok Phil's Mom and Dad come to town (The Chiang Mai Saga)

[Guest]

Fri 28th

I was very excited about the prospect of spending a week in Chiang Mai. I was last there in December 1990, but that was a very different kind of trip to this one. In 1990, I was in northern Thailand with five American friends. The first thing we did was rent the biggest motorbikes we could find and then spent seven days raising hell. I remember us burning into a hill-tribe village in clouds of dust and exhaust fumes and putting the hill-tribe cause back by 20 years. But I’ve grown up a lot since then and this time my trailblazing companions were my parents and girlfriend. This trip would perhaps be a little more sedate.

I firstly had to endure a three-hour-wait at Bangkok’s domestic terminal and you couldn’t wish for a more miserable start to a vacation. It was chaos. It was as if the whole of Bangkok had decided to leave town on the same day. There were queues at every ATM machine and you couldn’t get a seat in Burger King for love nor money. And why is it that Thais travel with the most ridiculous amount of luggage for even the briefest of trips? I felt weighed down with just one item of hand baggage and reluctantly decided to leave it at the left-luggage counter for an extortionate 70 baht. The Thai woman in charge of the facility was rudeness personified and it seemed as though every one was having an off day. The girl in the newsagents was equally abrasive but even she paled in comparison to the bitch on the Thai Airways information desk. Sometimes the Land of Smiles can kiss my arse.

I ventured out to the front of the terminal building to try and escape from the passenger madness inside but it was even worse out there. Car horns blared, doors slammed, brakes squealed and all the time security personnel blew incessantly on their whistles (does that actually serve a purpose?). Close your eyes and it could have been Bombay, Mexico City or any other place in the world where the concept of noise pollution means jack shit. It came as an incredible relief to be tucking into dainty in-flight sandwiches at an altitude of 33,000 feet and on the way to the ‘Rose of the North’.

Way back in July, I had contacted the Lai Thai guesthouse in Chiang Mai and booked a room for seven nights. Here’s an interesting thought. Of all the hundreds of guesthouses in Chiang Mai, only half a dozen have an internet presence, which I find amazing. The six or seven guesthouses that have bothered to knock up a quick website must be coining it in. The rest are simply getting left behind. True to their word, the Lai Thai guesthouse had sent a representative to pick us up and it was the first time in my life I’d seen someone hold up my name at an airport. It made me feel important but I hadn’t seen the guesthouse yet. After a 15-minute drive through heavy Friday night traffic, the girlfriend and I arrived at the Lai Thai. One of my good friends, Gary Garber, another Manchester United fanatic, had arranged to have a welcome drink with me in the bar before he headed back to Bangkok the following day. Gary filled me in with the news that Chiang Mai was expecting a record number of visitors for the New Year and in neighboring Chiang Rai, the accommodation was at such a premium that a local hospital had opened up its wards and was charging 200 baht a night for a bed. Gary had walked all over Chiang Mai for the best part of a day looking for something a little more up-market than the Lai Thai guesthouse. My spirits fell.

“Oh no, this place is fine” he said “but at the end of the day, it’s a guesthouse”

“I’m paying 590 baht a night for this” I replied “ and just look at all the bloody backpackers!!”

I’ve rarely seen a guesthouse so busy. People were asking about the availability of rooms, booking elephant treks, complaining about the lack of hot water, and bemoaning the slow service in the restaurant. I brushed past them all with an elaborate swish of my Bangkok Post and the girlfriend and I faced the disappointment of a dark and dingy room on the second floor. After plonking our bags on the bed we re-joined Gary and his girlfriend in the bar.

My Mom and Dad were staying at the Royal Princess as part of their holiday package deal and had flown up to Chiang Mai some six hours earlier. When we met up with them for a late night drink, they had already been out and sussed the town. My Dad has a remarkable ability for navigation. He already knew the best bars and the best restaurants. I felt like the inexperienced traveler now. They were frankly not impressed by the Royal Princess if only for the reason they had been spoiled by a week’s luxury at the Dusit Thani. I have to agree though – the Royal Princess hotel has a poor location right on top of the night market, and inside the hotel is cramped and in dire need of refurbishment.

I must say that I warmed to Chiang Mai immediately. The people seemed friendly and ultra-polite and the cool evening air was gorgeous. The night market was bustling and every one looked happy buying souvenirs and hill-tribe clothes that they won’t possibly wear when they return home. I had that lovely warm feeling that you get when you are a stranger in a big city and you don’t have the first clue how to get around.

Sat 29th

Chiang Mai wakes up very slowly and most shops were still closed at 10.00 am when we met Mom and Dad for our first full day in the north. We had discussed a rough itinerary the night before - we would spend about four days using the services of a local driver who could show us the attractions that Chiang Mai province has to offer and we would use the other two days for exploring Chiang Mai on foot. Our only problem was getting a driver at a decent price. Chiang Mai has no shortage of willing tour guides – they are absolutely everywhere - drivers with jeeps, drivers with cars, drivers with minibuses. I’m sure that some of the locals would carry you around on their back if the price was right. Every corner you turn, every street you walk down, there is someone wanting to take you somewhere. It takes about five minutes for the whole charade to wear you down and become deeply irritating. ‘I’m going to punch the next person who asks me if I need a taxi’ I can’t begin to tell you how many times that thought crossed my mind.

It didn’t take long for me to get into trouble. I was accosted by a burly Thai chap in front of the Royal Princess Hotel, who pointed out his jeep and promised me the best possible price (don’t they all) – 1200 baht for the whole day including gas. I told him I would think about it because I was going to have breakfast with my parents first. He took this to mean yes and spent the whole duration of breakfast waiting in front of the café. Meanwhile, my Mom and Dad had been smooth-talked into an offer of a day’s tour using an old Toyota Corolla for 1000 baht a day. We weighed up our options over breakfast and decided on the more comfortable and cheaper option of the Toyota Corolla. However, the big Thai chap with the jeep was hovering menacingly. We duly finished breakfast and wandered over to our man and his Toyota. It was then that the man with jeep started wagging his finger at me and asking why I’d changed vehicle. I tried desperately to explain that I had said maybe and not yes, but he couldn’t get it through his thick skull. He was visibly upset. I slipped him 100 baht for his time and trouble and this seemed to calm him down. But when you’re Bangkok Phil you have to have the last word. “Don’t you ever approach me again” I warned him.

There was something about the man who Mom and Dad had chosen to drive us around that I didn’t like. He was too smooth for starters, and he never stopped yakking. He produced an ID card, which according to him showed that he was licensed by the TAT and gave him the right to tout for business in front of hotels. What a load of old cobblers!

On the road out of Chiang Mai we had no alternative but to sit back and listen to this prat drone on about where he wanted to take us – a buffalo training camp, a monkey training camp and an elephant training camp first of all. I asked him why so many animals in the north of Thailand needed to be trained but he managed to avoid the question. After the thrill of the training camps he planned to take us to a silverware factory, a lacquer ware factory, and a silk-weaving factory – anywhere where he received a kickback. It was our introduction to what I christened ‘the Chiang Mai network’ – the shoddy business of ripping off tourists left, right and center. Sure, it goes on all over the world, but I’ve never seen anywhere where the backhanders are flying about quite like they are in Chiang Mai.

Our first stop was the buffalo training camp. It was a tourist rip-off in every sense of the word. Our saving grace was that we’d just missed the morning show (but what can buffaloes do for f*** sake?). All we could see before us was a tatty old buffalo farm with great dollops of shit everywhere. And they wanted 200 baht per person for the privilege. We passed on it as did we the monkey camp, much to the driver’s annoyance.

While driving away from the buffalo camp, we passed a beautiful temple where some kind of elaborate ceremony was taking place. I implored the driver to stop.

Mom and Dad had a blast. This was the real Thailand and it was totally free. You can stick your monkey training camps where the monkey stuffs its nuts.

On to the Maesa valley elephant camp and this is well worth seeing. You get the chance to ride the elephants for an hour and it’s on the whole an enjoyable experience. But yet again your hand is in your pocket at every turn for bunches of bananas and sticks of sugar beet. After an hour’s ride, the elephant’s sick and you’re skint. It’s a pity also that we were charged 500 baht per person to enter the camp and ride an elephant but not given an official receipt. We found out several days later that it should cost 300 baht for two people. Our TAT-approved driver had put 1400 baht in his pocket or at least split it with the ticket-vendor at the elephant camp.

It was at the elephant camp that we bumped into Brian Jacks enjoying a holiday in Thailand with his wife. Brian was an Olympic judo gold medallist for Britain in the 1970’s and later became a well-known TV personality. It was my Dad who actually recognized him and top marks for Brian for stopping to have a good old chat and pose for some photos. He couldn’t get over how wonderful Thailand was and was seriously thinking of retiring out here. You don’t know the half of it Bri.

In the afternoon we paid 20 baht each to walk around a craft village whose main attraction was a 6 foot square fishpond full of dead fish and rotting leaves but at least no one asked you for money. After that we adjourned to a silverware factory where you can yawn your way through the manufacturing process and then rush to buy the items in a glitzy showroom. And all the time you have some commission-driven vulture following you around like a bad smell. After further attempts to drain our bank accounts in a cotton garment factory and then a silk-weaving workshop, we insisted the driver take us back to Chiang Mai.

The driver tried one last desperate throw of the dice – a gemstone factory? Actually, it was my girlfriend’s idea. Were she and the driver in cahoots? Had she been bought for thirty pieces of silver? Sensing that my father was about to duff up the driver, I told him it was in his best interests to get us back home.

In the evening we enjoyed a splendid pie and chips at the Brittania Pub, near the Chiang Mai night market. If you’re up there, pop in and say hello to John from Ashburton. He runs a mighty fine hostelry.

Sun 30th

After the traditional northern Thai breakfast of bacon, egg and sausage, we were once more besieged by tour guides and taxi drivers in the area around the Royal Princess hotel but we had foolishly decided to give the smooth talker with the clapped-out Toyota another go. We started today’s tour with a few of Chiang Mai’s oldest temples – Wat Chedi Luang was impressive and mercifully free of tourists and then a Burmese temple whose name I can’t remember. The chief monk of the Burmese temple had recently passed away and his coffin was on display in the main hall. Someone had had the splendid idea of decorating the coffin with cheap, twinkly Christmas lights. I can’t believe it was what the dearly departed would’ve wanted.

The difference between yesterday’s tour and today’s was scenery. As we drove out of Chiang Mai, you couldn’t fail to be impressed by the rolling hills and lush valleys – a much nicer backdrop than seeing streets lined with tourist gift shops and lacquer ware factories. We drove on to the scenic Krisdadoi resort, with its display of flowers that would rival any flower display in the world. Unfortunately, all the New Year Thai tourists had hit town and there were possibly more people than flowers. You spent more time trying to keep out of people’s photographs than you did admiring the vista.

Our driver suggested lunch at the nearby Kaelae restaurant, which is at the foot of Doi Suthep. It was by now that we realized he’d totally lost the plot. The restaurant was packed, the food was average and you had to pay a 10% surcharge to sit near a man-made lake. In addition, the service was abysmal. Every complaint I have against Thai restaurants was evident at Kaelae. The waitress gave us one menu between four people and then stood there to write down the order. Each dish arrived at 5-minute intervals. And on top of that, it took them ten minutes to give us the bill.

We had set aside the afternoon for Doi Suthep, Chiang Mai’s premier tourist attraction, and also the King’s winter palace. One look at the hordes of Thais queuing to go in both of them and we were forced to re-arrange our plans. Most guidebooks tell you to avoid the very commercial Doi Pui hill-tribe village but we thought we’d give it a chance. Actually, it wasn’t too bad if you ignore the fact that you can wander around dressed up in hired hill-tribe gear for 50 baht or if you ignore the numerous hill-tribe kids who constantly approach you muttering the timeless legend “Take photo - money up to you” before thrusting a grubby hand in your face.

There is no proper road between Doi Suthep and the Doi Pui hill-tribe village but just a dirt track with a mass of potholes. Our driver told us that we had to make the journey of 3kms by jeep. When we returned from the hill-tribe village, we were instructed to pay the driver 500 baht for a round-trip of 6kms. We later found out that the proper fare was 250 baht at most. Yet again we’d been shafted and the car-ride back to Chiang Mai was unpleasant simply because the silence was unbearable. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife. Our driver knew he’d run out of chances and he’d screwed us once too often. We made it quite clear to him that his services were no longer required.

Mon 31st

Dad had somewhere found a leaflet that mapped out a carefully planned walk around the old city of Chiang Mai. Just what the doctor ordered – a 3-hour amble around this historic city with no Chiang Mai native telling us where to go or what to do – heaven!

I still reckoned on at least 50 opportunists asking if we needed a taxi or tuk-tuk and so we braced ourselves for the ordeal.

The walk around Chiang Mai is pleasant enough but like in any other Thai city, you find yourself gazing endlessly at Firestone tyre dealers and Chinese shop-houses with tatty awnings and miserable grey shutters. Sometimes the temples and attractions can be a long way apart.

In Chiang Mai, traffic seems to flow in eight different directions, pedestrian crossings are there for decoration, and all the time you have tuk-tuk drivers slowing down alongside you to offer the magical word “taxi?” (just in case you might not have seen it). You can only say no so many times before it becomes extremely irritating.

We stopped for lunch at a little café called The Amazing Sandwich & Deli Bar, which not surprisingly specialized in hearty sandwiches and home-made pastries. On the next table were a gorgeous young Thai guy and two aging farang queens, all blow-dried hair and elaborate hand gestures. They were discussing the merits of the English cooked breakfast and the thickness of sausages around the world (I swear I’m not making this up). When I went inside the café to use the toilet, only one table was occupied – by an unconvincing ladyboy and yet another farang sexual deviant.

Now I’m fully aware that these people need a place to hang out, but this establishment is recommended in none other than the Lonely Planet guidebook. Could Joe Cummings, the writer of LP Thailand and guru to millions of backpackers worldwide, really be a secret shirtlifter? And with that thought occupying an unhealthy amount of space in my devious little mind, we continued with our walk.

For me, New Year’s Eve in Thailand has always been one of life’s great let-downs – no truly great parties, no Auld Lang Syne, no knees up Mother Brown, and as 6pm rolled around, there was no reason to think that this one was going to be any different. Mom and Dad already had their evening planned – a New Year’s Eve buffet at the hotel, which they had been forced to book by the travel agent in Spain. However, me and the girlfriend were staring at the possibility of roaming the streets like a couple of Dickensian waifs. We could always nip round to Mom and Dad’s hotel and press our noses against the glass I suppose.

We had an evening meal at J.J bakery (another one of Joe Cumming’s Lonely Planet recommendations – two in one day – I was ashamed) Thankfully no eavesdropping on sausage jockeys this time.

JJ Bakery is up there with the best of Chiang Mai’s restaurants. It has a great menu and the dishes are served with some imagination. Shame though that they can’t employ enough staff to keep a busy restaurant happy.

Eating here does give you the chance to be in Moon Muang Rd, one of Chiang Mai’s backpacker/tourist enclaves. I had my first glimpse of Chiang Mai’s girlie bars and they had much in common with their Bangkok counterparts – namely loud music, crass tarts, and neglected pool tables. The one thing that struck me was no one seemed to be having a good time. At least in Bangkok the girls and the punters look to be interacting and having a little mutual fun. Here in Chiang Mai, the customers sat on one side of the bar nursing beers while the bargirls sat on the other side staring into space. It was weird.

It was on Moon Muang Rd that I witnessed an interesting and significant scene. A young, well-scrubbed European couple, possibly Scandinavian, were out for a pre-dinner stroll and had happened upon an authentic-looking hill-tribe mother and son. The European couple were delighted, positively enchanted by the native pair decked out in their hill-tribe regalia and stopped to wish them Happy New Year. But the hill-tribers couldn’t hear them. The hill-tribers didn’t want to hear them. And as the European couple expressed their greetings, so the hill-tribe mother and son kept repeating “5 baht, 5 baht” with hands outstretched. It was all very sad. I described the scene as significant because for me it rather summed up Chiang Mai - the grabbing, grasping locals who very often need to be a little more subtle in how they try to empty a tourists wallet. And I’m putting that as politely as I can.

With still 5 hours to go to New Year my girlfriend had the ridiculous idea of going to see a movie rather than do 5 hours of Chiang Mai bar-hopping. We caught a tuk tuk for 50 baht (would have cost 30 in Bangkok) and found ourselves at the Central Shopping Mall near the Orchid Hotel for the 9pm showing of ‘Training Day’ with Denzel Washington.

The movie played to just five people – me, the girlfriend, a Thai couple in the back row, and the projectionist.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more sorry for a human being than I did for the cinema usher. Instead of celebrating New Year in the bosom of his family, here he was on the top floor of a windswept, faceless shopping complex, ripping the tickets for four paying customers and showing them to their seats in an empty auditorium. Sometimes, life can be so cruel.

As we waited for the film to start, we were treated to some Happy New Year Thai songs that sounded like someone having a life or death operation without the aid of an anesthetic.

The movie finished at 11.35 - less than half an hour to the midnight celebrations and not a drop of alcohol inside me. We hailed a taxi and ordered him to take us to the night bazaar in a ‘follow that cab’ kind of tone.

Have you ever spent midnight on New Year’s Eve in a traffic jam in central Chiang Mai? Well…. you’re looking at a man who has. But even from the backseat of a taxi, the hotel firework displays were magnificent.

Tuesday 1st

What better way to blow off the cobwebs than a lazy morning stroll along the banks of Chiang Mai’s Ping River?

As charming and well-kept as Chiang Mai is, the riverside area is decidedly shoddy with piles of garbage, rows of ugly boats and lawns overgrown with weeds. The Ping’s murky waters are apparently teeming with turtles and terrapins but no sharks (the sharks are all walking around in the city center or driving taxis).

We took a boat trip down the river for a very reasonable 150 baht a head and then had lunch in JJ Bakery where the service was once again appalling. (put that in the next edition of the Lonely Planet please Joe). After a heavy lunch rounded off with generous portions of sticky toffee cake, Mom and Dad went back to the hotel for an afternoon siesta, the girlfriend went off for an oil massage and I settled in for a couple of hours key-pounding in an internet café. Chiang Mai has no shortage of internet cafes that all boast tortoise-speed connections, clapped-out computers and worn-out keyboards. And of course the opportunity to sit elbow to elbow with unwashed backpackers whose knowledge of the internet begins and ends with the hotmail default page. Still….at 15 baht an hour who’s complaining?

Wed 2nd

I am going to give an unashamed plug to a lovely lady called Julie who runs a travel agency called Level Corporation. Her phone number is 053274497. Her website is www.levelcorporation.com Go and hand over all your holiday money to her because she is by far the most honest person I met in the Chiang Mai travel business. She supplied us with a spotlessly clean minibus and a wonderful driver for the princely sum of 1,800 baht including gas. It was an offer that couldn’t be beat.

We had reserved this day for Doi Inthanon, the highest peak in Thailand, hopefully more enjoyable now that the weekend Thai tourists had headed back to Bangkok.

To enter the national park costs 200 baht for foreigners and 20 baht for Thais. I decided there and then that the next time I come to Chiang Mai, I’ll simply staple lots of 100 baht notes to my jacket and let the locals pick it off as and when necessary. It would save a lot of hassle and bad feeling.

At the peak of Doi Inthanon, the air is cool and fresh and the view is breathtaking but oh my word what about the garbage? You couldn’t move for empty Coke cans and pot noodle cartons. If there are any Thais reading this, you should be ashamed. I know that my girlfriend was.

As you descend down the mountain, the tourist attractions come thick and fast. There’s the magnificent Nopamathidon Pagoda, built by the military to celebrate the King’s 60th birthday. (10 baht to go in, 2 baht to use the toilet, 25 baht for a fun-size Mars Bar from one of the most characterless gift shop/cafeterias I’ve ever been in)

Don’t miss the royal project, a valley area where with the aid of government funding, the hill-tribe people are cultivating organic fruit and vegetables. The whole backdrop of mist-covered mountains and cascading waterfalls will fill you with awe.

A short distance away is a genuine hill-tribe market (about as genuine as you’re going to get in this area) The hill-tribers here are selling to mainly Thai locals and it was nice to see old women with weathered faces and toothless smiles and toddlers with snotty noses….and not one single outstretched hand.

The last stop was another Thai waterfall. And this was every inch, every droplet a proper waterfall and not the pathetic dribble of water that you usually get. It wasn’t quite Angel Falls, Venezuela, but we got drenched in spray and that’s what waterfalls are all about.

In the evening, we had a superb meal on the Ping River at a place called Thai Classique. The previous evening we had dined at an equally superb establishment ‘The Gourmet’. We discovered the joys of eating near the Ping river because we had originally gone in search of gastronomic tittilation to the Riverside restaurant. According to the Lonely Planet’s Joe Cummings ‘anyone and everyone makes the scene at the Riverside on the Ping River’

Joe I don’t want to upset you mate but it’s fucking crap. I made a mental note to throw away my current edition of LP as soon as I got home.

Thurs 3rd

When you’re in Chiang Mai, you have to go see Doi Suthep – it’s as simple as that. Now that the Thais were back at work, looking around the temple was a relaxing experience.

Doi Suthep temple is commercial and it is on every tourist’s itinerary but it still manages to be that little bit special. The view of Chiang Mai from the temple walls is something else.

The only downside to visiting the temple is the numerous bells that you are encouraged to ring. Most people will just ring one bell just one time and leave it at that. But not kids. Oh no not kids. They will walk along a line of 50 bells and ring every single motherf***ing one. It became like a bell-ringers convention and you just had to get outta there.

In a quieter part of the temple I chanced upon a donation box (donation boxes are everywhere in Doi Suthep) but this one had a huge ledger-type book beside it where you could enter the donated amount and add a word or two of comment. Most people had donated between twenty and one hundred baht but there was an entry in the book from a German couple. They wrote “wonderful, breath-taking” in the comments column and then had the balls not only to put 2 baht in the donation box but to enter it on the ledger. I’m not insinuating that the Germans are tighter than a nun’s chuff but I was full of admiration for this couple.

After Doi Suthep, you tend to gravitate towards the King’s winter palace but it’s every bit as impressive as the temple. The gardeners and staff were out in force because the Queen herself arrived the following day. There wasn’t a scrap of litter in sight (hope the Queen has plans to visit Doi Inthanon).

The palace rather disappointingly has a double-pricing system (50 baht for farangs, 20 baht for Thais). I asked the girl at the desk why farangs had to pay more and she skillfully evaded the question three times – twice with a fleeting smile and once with a mumbled answer that I made her repeat.

Moans aside, the palace is stunning and on a day like today when the mist was rolling in from the neighboring high peaks, it took on an almost eerie quality which made me shiver. (actually, the girlfriend had nicked me sweatshirt as well)

And to complete a busy half-day’s sightseeing – Chiang Mai zoo, touted as the best zoo in Thailand (an honor that I don’t think is that difficult to achieve). Like Bangkok Zoo it is hopelessly neglected. The animals have a fair amount of space to move around in but the attractions are ridiculously far apart and without a vehicle, you’re gasping for breath by the end.

Fri 4th

This was always going to be a ‘kill time day’ We were all catching flights back to Bangkok at 8pm and had to check out of hotel rooms well before that.

We found a nice tranquil temple called Wat Kate with its amazing museum (you have to get a monk to open the place up – admission is free). For me it was possibly the hi-light of the trip. The place has an incredible collection of black and white photographs depicting milestones in Chiang Mai’s history – the first motor car, etc. They really were fascinating.

We thanked Julie at the travel agency for her excellent service. She seemed grateful but like most people in Chiang Mai, she was a poor listener and was only happy when she was doing the talking.

We then spent some time browsing the second-hand books at Gecko bookstore near the Tha Phrae gate, which is run by a European guy. The shop is well-organized and the prices reasonable. Pity about the prominently displayed sign which states 1) Fixed prices 2) No bargaining 3) No cash refunds 4) No pissing in the pool.

He added the fourth one just to show us that he’s not totally devoid of a sense of humor but I was so upset by the first three rules that I refused to buy anything.

We took lunch at JJ’s once again – not because it’s a Lonely Planet recommendation but because it is spotlessly clean and from what I’d seen, the hygiene standards of restaurant kitchens in Chiang Mai were not the best in the world.

We flew back to Bangkok – you’re in the air for 55 minutes, barely enough time to read the Bangkok Post. When we got off the plane Mom and Dad had to be shuttled to the international terminal, so we had to say our goodbyes on the tarmac at Bangkok airport surrounded by the smell of aviation fuel. It wasn’t the ideal situation and it was all too quick but that’s life I guess.

And that was that. What can I say about Chiang Mai?

It’s 10 years since I was last there and 10 years before I go again probably.

I don’t want to give the impression I disliked the place but the need to get your wallet out at every conceivable turn wears you down fast. Chiang Mai is commercial to the extreme.

The cynics will argue that everywhere is like that these days, but I would say not to the degree that Chiang Mai is.

It made me so glad that I live in Bangkok. It truly did. I just couldn’t live in Chiang Mai. For those of you coming to Thailand for a vacation and looking for a completely Thai experience, you might well be disappointed with the Rose of the North.

[luckyfarang]

Amusing post Phil. I spent a few years in Chiangmai, so I know what you are talking about all the outstretched hands. The double pricing has always sort of bothered me, so last year on Inthanon I bluffed my way into getting the Thai price. I just went up to the booth and asked for tickets for three Thai persons and a car. When they looked at me blankly I explained (in Thai) that I was a LOOK(f) KREUNG(f) (half breed) and my mother was Thai and my father was farang and I worked in Bangkok (a load of bollocks). Nevermind I'm nearly twenty stone with blue eyes. By the way, the annoying 200B entry fee for national parks is good for as many parks as you can enter in a single day, though they're a bit far apart to capitalize on this.

Another one that bothers me is the official looking lady who collects 5B for parking in front of the SOMPET market. I'm sure this is a scam, but most everyone blindly pays it. Even when I refuse, my girlfriend slips her 5B. Oh, well...

I think the Burmese temple you saw was Wat Koo Tao. The waterfall on the right side of the road on the lower part of Inthanon is Wachiratan. I know some of the Karen tribe that have a "garden" next to the falls, and the spray waters it naturally. I brought them some seeds of various types to grow, and when I returned the following year in December everything was already harvested. But the village headman took me down to the falls and pointed up a tree full of bowling ball sized Persian melons. They looked strange hanging up there, since they grow on vines, not trees, but he pointed to the vines beginning at the base of the tree where he had planted the seeds. Most western farmers would have built a trellace of some sort for them to grow up, but this uneducated backwoods farmer had a simpler, better idea. Then this old guy in his late fifties climbed the tree barefoot and brought us down a melon to taste, something I couldn't have done in my twenties.

As far as spending New Year in a CM traffic jam, the whole town is gridlocked during Songkran, Flower Festival, Chinese New Year, etc. I once spent 45 minutes motionless in a tuktuk during Loy Kratong, and gave up and walked, which was not so easy to convince my CM brothel girl to do.

[ January 06, 2002: Message edited by: luckyfarang ]

[Umm]

I'm also convinced Joe Cummings is a secret mattress muncher. He writes so disparagingly about the hetrosexual night-life/bar scene but then goes into greater detail about the gay scene with no value judgements.

I endorse your comments about the food and cleanliness of JJ Bakery (both branches). None of my visits to CM have been during peak times and the service has been OK - maybe they just are staffed for normal times.

Sorry you didn't find The Riverside Restaurant to your liking. I've eaten at all the riverside places and the Riverside remains my firm favourite. Their version of catfish salad is simply the best.

[Roger]

quote:

---

Originally posted by Bangkok Phil:

the Royal Princess hotel has a poor location right on top of the night market, and inside the hotel is cramped and in dire need of refurbishment.

---

Well, I guess your parents must have been relegated to the old wing or the staff quarters. The Royal Princess underwent a massive refurbishment in 2001. All the rooms that I have seen in the last 2 months have been very tastefully redecorated and kitted out along with the lobby area too,for aroun 1500 baht per night I find it hard to beat. I have been going there about 10 times a year for the last five years and cannot faulttheir service. The location is OK for me as I usually only spend one night there, saves me a taxi from the outskirts...

Cheers

[JCK]

Wow Brian Jacks! He was my boyhood hero! Does he still have the afro-cut? I bet he is a bit chubby now so top marks to your dad for recognising him.

Judo Olympic gold medal? Gold? Brian’s lucky I wasn’t there. I would have pulled him up big time for telling whoppers. He only ever got a bronze at the Olympics!

p.s. you didn’t tell him to read this site did you? Oh s**t. Sorry Sensei Brian.. Sir..

[anonymouse]

As usual a great report Phil, Personally I love Chiang Mai, horses for courses and all that. Have to agree on the lonely planet issue if a bar or hotel is listed in the "backpackers bible" it is a good indication to avoid it. People watching is one of the great delights of Chiang Mai find a bar on Moonmuang Rd early evening settle yourself into a nice chair with a cold beer and watch the great unwashed shuffle by, you can guarantee at least 90% will be clutching a bottle of water in one hand and a Lonely Planet in the other.

I have my doubts about old Mr Cummings myself ask any expat local and they would confirm your story of the Amazing Sandwich & Deli - apparently old Joe lives in Chiang Mai so I'm sure he would know..I wonder!

[anonymouse]

Forgot to mention, I'm another Brian Jacks fan along with Neal Adams and Dave Starbrook one of the Judo greats.

[Mekong]

Keep them coming Phil,

I too have also had similar expriences with the parents over here, but no way could I explain so eloquently, the way you do, of what really happened.

My GF now thinks I am totally mental because I have just re-read all your postings on this topic , so many memories.

Keep up the good writing, and I look forward to the next update of mouth.

Sawadee pii mai

[rovineye]

quote:

---

Originally posted by Bangkok Phil:

Fri 28th

Gary filled me in with the news that Chiang Mai was expecting a record number of visitors for the New Year and in neighboring Chiang Rai, the accommodation was at such a premium that a local hospital had opened up its wards and was charging 200 baht a night for a bed. Gary had walked all over Chiang Mai for the best part of a day looking for something a little more up-market than the Lai Thai guesthouse. .

---

 

I arrived in Chiang Mai on the 26th and my GF (from CM) and I were leaving on the 29th for a 6 days around Mae Hong Son. I asked her about hotel reservations, but she says no problem. She is from MHS. The night before we are to leave I read in the BKK Post that every accomodation in the north is full up. All hotels, gest houses, Wats, AND hospitals. She says no problem, and calls cousin in MHS. Cousin says no problem, call back in the moring and she will tell us where our hotel is. In the morning, problem. Everything full. EVERYTHING! Cousin says we can stay at her house. We show up and find that her one room has one bed and she and her hubby will sleep on the bare floor next to the bed. BTW, this room is also the sewing room for Lisu girls making stuff to sell at the night market. Shower is a hose outside. Use the bathroom in the guest house next door. I am very dismayed. My GF says it is either that or the green hotel. After a few seconds I relize her truck is green. I check all the hotels in the area and they only laugh. Cousin disappears and comes back with a key. Takes us to a guest room next door with 2 rooms, a proper toilet and hot shower, and a great bed! She called the renter in Switzerland who gave her permission to let her relative use the room. Cousin is somewhat dismayed tho, because the guest house is going to charge us the rip off price of 400 baht a night. Whew.

Walking around the next few night we saw many folks sleeping in their cars. Some were folks obviously used to 4 star accomodations and not digging it at all!

Lesson learned for me, and I bought that cousin tom yum goong every night we were there!

[Guest]

Originally posted by Umm:

"I'm also convinced Joe Cummings is a secret mattress muncher. He writes so disparagingly about the hetrosexual night-life/bar scene but then goes into greater detail about the gay scene with no value judgements."

Knowing the man personally, I can assure you he's as straight as a brand-new doornail. I'm sure his very attractive and intelligent American wife has no doubts either.