Chiang Mai & Chiang Rai, Thailand: Inspecting The Old King's Jewels

As Jon and I stand on the edge of the Bangkok Train Station platform, the city stands on edge of my mind as a flurried memory of tangled neon, crowded shuffling denizens, and shadowy murky goings-on. "But that's all behind us now," I tell myself. "It will fade with each passing click-clack of our train." I try to sound reassuring.

But it's night and it's sweltering and that post-bender feeling is forcing its way through my veins and surging up into my stomach. I've got to get out of here- and the only way to do it proper is by overnight train. Our destination: Chiang Mai, the northern haven of culture and temples and serenity and everything antithesis of Bangkok. But it's only temporary- we'll have to return to the swirling madness soon enough. Think of Raoul Duke powering away from Vegas in that beat-up great red shark... knowing full well he'd be turning that bedraggled animal around and diving headlong back into the fray before he even knew it. Now you have an idea of how I'm feeling as we step onto the train.

Things start shakily. We find out seats but even a preliminary train-beer can't calm my overwhelming misgivings. I declare that we're men. And what's more, we're men made of hearty stuff and we need the type of proper consolation that one watery Singha simply won't provide. The train starts forth, rocking us in a not-so-gentle fashion. Despite the train's best efforts to dissuade our resolution, we stumble around seeking the true solution to the day's, nay week's, problems: beer. And in big-boy quantities. That's how the romantic does it. One does not sit idly by and nurse old wounds. No, embrace the carnage, ford the river, tally-ho and all that nonsense! I'm suddenly empowered, vigorous, driven, delirious with intent.

And that's precisely where the peculiarly (and reminiscently) named "Bogie Gourmet" comes in. Jackpot. It's a cafe car... or is it a bar car? Or is it a karaoke car? Or is it something else entirely? We try to decipher but it's a fruitless endeavor. The music is too loud, the beer too available, and the Christmas lights too Christmas-y. In no time the Bogie Gourmet is in full bedlam and even the cops are drinking.

By the time we've achieved liquid satisfaction the "psychedelic experience" is closing down and everyone else on the train has closed their protective blue curtains- seemingly to ward off late-night interlopers such as Jon and myself. We push past paying little heed with the exception of trying to figure out which of these homogenous bunks is actually ours. Seriously, what the heck is going on? It looks like an a legion of sketchy unidentifiable surgeons are performing a host of unsavory operations behind each bunk.

We eventually locate said bunks and the next thing I know we're in Chaing Mai. I feel terrible. I'm not sure if it's the food-bar-karakoke-car, the lack of sleep, or one of the host of other haunting things that could be plaguing me but I'm in dire need of a crash. We arrive at the hostel and the nice guy tending the front desk lets us store our bags while we walk around.

I make the most of our brief reprieve from the shaky movement of the tuk tuk to spew my guts in the recently refreshed washroom. At least I'm getting my money's worth. After a 7-Eleven pit stop, I've recovered enough to saunter around the city. First up, Luang Chedi- one of the many famous chedi's around Chaing Mai. This particular one was one of the biggest and most impressive until it was partially destroyed by an earthquake several hundred years ago.

I like the elephants. Jon doesn't even notice it's there- just storms right past it. I think he's hallucinating an ice-cream truck. I convince him I am not, in fact, selling ice-cream. We walk around a number of smaller temples near the hostel. We decide to simply relax and stare at the image of Buddha- imploring him to help guide our quest. I'm not sure if he decides to help but the break begins to refresh and revive me.

On the way back to the hostel I locate some signs warning us of a Satanic rock band in the vicinity. To be honest I'm thinking: I really need to get back to this street tonight and ascertain the idleness (or perhaps not) of these threats. Forget the Devil in Georgia, this promises a full-on a three-strings outfit.

But, alas, my Bangkok adventures, the train, and hot tiring day prevent me from escaping the hostel to find out. The next day we decide to play tourist and sign up for a cooking class with a man named Sammy. Sammy is a bit of a legend in Chiang Mai. Not only does he host one of the (and in my opinion THE) premier cooking classes, he is also renowned for the "best toilet in all of Asia."

In case you're wondering, this is the charming Sammy whose first task was to take us to a local market and explain all of the ingredients we would be using to cook our traditional Thai dishes. He's a real lady-killer this guy.

Back at Sammy's house the cooking class begins. Jon goes first and whips up a yellow curry with almost no effort at all. I opt for green. Both are good but Jon's confidence in his yellow is nigh impossible to overtake. Look at that swagger. It's like he's daring me to cast even the slightest of skeptical glances as an excuse to bite my ear off.

We prep, cook, and eat. Then, suffering from a Thai food coma, it's time to rest in hammocks for a few hours until we're ready to make more food and eventually a dessert. I'm beyond full. Even looking out across Sammy's backyard, I struggle to think of anything other than the delicious Thai delicacies swirling around my greasy innards.

The next day we're up early and on our way to Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep. Easily the most famous temple in Chiang Mai, the legend has it that one of the earlier followers of Buddha strapped a relic of Buddha to a white elephant and told it to march into the forest. Eventually it stopped on top of this hill, trumpeted three times, and then died. A temple was built here to house the relic (and presumably the elephant?) which stands to this day. The giant golden chedi is believed to house said relic- bones from the Buddha himself.

We opt to walk down the hill rather than utilize the inclined railroad again. It is a walk well worth the effort. Little girls inhabit the edges of the dragon-lined stairwell in traditional dress attempting to hawk wares. They're adorable but thankfully I have no emotions for pandering children. We breeze past them with ease.

Our tuk tuk ride back down the mountain is harrowing but eventually we make it relatively unscathed. The next day, our last day in Chiang Mai, we decide on a road trip up to Chiang Rai and the Golden Triangle... whatever that means. As an aside, Chiang Rai was founded in 1262 as the ruling city of the Lanna Empire and was superseded by Chiang Mai ("new city") in 1296. Both were conquered and occupied by the Burmese for extended periods until the 18th century when they eventually came back under Thai (Siam) rule. Just in case you were wondering. You were, weren't you? You saucy minx you.

The day is organized as a bonkersly long mini-bus ride through northern Thailand- through Chiang Rai, up to the Golden Triangle, to the very top part of Thialand and then all the way back. The bus is packed. First stop, the highlight, Wat Arun (the White Temple).

I've been wanting to see this temple for several years since I saw a special on it on the travel channel. The back story is that a "crazy" Thai architect guy designed this work and commissioned it to be littered with pop-references as a way of relating them with (or really against) the teachings of Buddha. The result is a contemporary temple of such bizarre and off-putting imagery as to instantly make it one of my all-time favorites. As you approach the temple the first thing you notice is a likeness of The Predator seemingly stuck in the ground.

What is happening right now?!? On the way up the ramp there are hands reaching out at you as if you were passing over a hell of sorts.

The inside of the temple was filled with references to Superman, Batman, Neo (from the Matrix), Freddie Kruger, Pokemon, etc. The objective of these inclusions into the paintings is to say that believing in these people/things is merely the worship of false idols which will lead you astray of the teachings of the great Buddha. Witnessing it in person is a very surreal experience. Even the bathrooms are over-the-top.

FYI- this is the madman responsible for all of this. Or as I like to call him, my hero.

Next up we find ourselves on a boat heading up the river toward the Golden Triangle. Not the hypothetical region but the actual Golden Triangle- the spit of land between Thailand, Burma and Laos that was governed by no one and where the bulk sale of opium has taken place willy-nilly since the age of colonial western powers. The old opium markets are gone but the ungoverned spit of land still exists where, according to our guide, you can still shoot a person point blank without facing any type of punitive retribution. You know, in case you ever need that information...

This was also the closest we would get to Burma despite our early declarations to force our way into this sacred and conflicted country at the outset of our trip. It turns out that even with the proper permitting, only a small area of Burma is actually available to tourists. Venturing beyond without proper approval is not only illegal but is extremely dangerous. Between religious wars, bandits, and tribal battles, it's an almost certainty that you'll suffer a horrible fate should you stray from the specified tourist path. Or, at least, that's what the government says. Refusing to compromise, this is the closest we got to Burma. Flange, buddy, do us the honors?

We next find our boat careening toward Laos. For a mere dollar they let us loose in a tourist-trap river side city of Laos. Which, I guess, would be cool if you were the kind of person who just wanted to say you've "been" to Laos but didn't actually care to venture there. But, my friends, passports don't lie and yours would clearly say you've not been to that elusively-properly-pronounced land. But we sampled this particular venue's touristic fare- most prominently snake, scorpion, and tiger testicle flavored whiskies. Not, in my mind, the best thing to be known for.

Finally we hit Mae Sai, the most northern point in Thailand. From a temple atop the hill we can see both Thailand and Burma simultaneously. Can you see which is which? Ha, me either. Answer: to the left of the blue-roofed building is Burma and to the right is Thailand. What a bizarre place. Seems like from here you could just stroll right into Burma unannounced. But... you know me, I love my entrances only with trumpets blaring and the whole nine.

But before they'll take us home we have to visit a local tribal village- one that's exceptionally touristy. It's the exact reason why we didn't want to pay extra to go here. Have you seen the National Geographic special about the people with long necks that they've earned by compiling an ever-increase stack of rings that stretch their necks? Well this was a visit to exactly that type of tribe only it was entirely commercial so instead of us visiting a tribe that does this on their own, we were visiting one that did it solely for commercial purposes. No ticket, no fun. I hate that type of tourism, so we- out of principle- opt out.

The ride back is hot; it's cramped. We're all tired of cruising in this tight minivan. I'm next to a Thai woman with whom, without nary a word, I've attracted a fancy. The ride is bumpy; I drift in and out. We exchange knowing glances. Perhaps. "Perhaps on some other planet, in some other life where I don't already have a husband and a child and my where my life is free to pursue my desires, perhaps then we'll be free just the two of us," she says. "Perhaps when all else turns to ash and we both roam this solitary husk of a world, we'll find solace in each other and all of our past indiscretions will drift away like fallout blown by the trade winds and we can finally, after such a long and hard fought battle, find inner peace."

It's at this point I snap awake to see the Thai woman exit the bus with her family. It is only Jon, myself, and a handful of others cruising back to Chiang Mai. That night we decide to test the bar district for some food and booze and are lucky enough to be serenaded by lovely Thai ladies performing a traditional dance along the rooftop of a popular bar. We begin a game of movie trivia with new friends. Nary a one can best us.

Before we know it, it's somehow early morning and we're already on our way back to Bangkok- albeit temporarily- as part of a 38 hour absurd travel-bender where we go by train from Chiang Mai > Bangkok > Vientiane, Laos. Whose insane idea was this anyway?

Chiang Mai was just the sort of break we needed. We step on the train back to Bangkok and I feel a level of stability and contentment that is nearly the exact opposite of my feeling when I stepped off the train only days before. We've been in Thailand for over a month now. I love the Thai people and Thai culture but I'm ready for something new. Laos is calling. And despite the collapse of our river boat plans and the destruction of Vang Vieng, it's still calling loudly.

We're going to overland- literally by foot- so that's got to count for something right? I suppose only time will tell. But this barreling-hell-bent-train-ride will be providing the answer in short order. Whooo Whooo! Time to get the hell out of Thailand.